Disclaimer: Nothing is mine; everything is J K Rowling's.
So from the more recent reviews I gather that you guys are hoping for pretty much every single character to die, mostly in horribly embarrassing or disturbingly sexual ways. I'm mildly concerned about who's reading this story now, and I really think encouraging you all is a terrible idea...
So, here's chapter 51!
Oh, and for those who saw the query about lemons and are curious, a lemon does feature in this chapter ;)
Chapter 51
Somehow Harry found himself on the chessboard again. Only this time he knew it was a dream, and he was no longer trapped. He stood at the centre as he had before, shrouded in flowing, grey robes.
The pieces were in different positions than before; the game had progressed. The black pieces had moved, pushing further up towards the centre of the board, but the white pieces had barely shifted, and the crying, bearded king could only watch as his cold-eyed counterpart took the advantage.
Harry didn't feel any urge to touch the pieces this time. His grey handprints lingered on some of the pieces, both black and white, and he knew that if he wished it he could move them.
A dull grinding noise began, rising louder and louder as a black pawn slid diagonally forwards on the board. The white pieces remained still, blissfully unaware of what was coming.
Something hot flared on his forehead, and he flinched from his pillow, clapping a hand to his face.
The heat faded the instant he was awake and upright.
Tentatively he raised his forefinger and pressed it against his scar. It hadn't troubled him since he had ripped Riddle's horcrux from himself, and Salazar had been sure that it was gone for good, whether it had been absorbed by him or expelled.
His forehead was warm, unnaturally so, but to his relief the heat was not confined to the area around his scar. He pulled the hangings open an inch to gauge how light it was outside. There was faint bird song from outside, and pale, orange light. He guessed it was somewhere around five.
Harry pulled the hangings open a bit further, just to check. Dean's glowing clock, a rather hardy piece of muggle equipment that he had to repeatedly charm to keep it working amidst all the magic, told him that it was actually half past seven.
Winter has come, Harry realised.
He was still used to it being light as early as four in the morning.
A second check of the clock told him that it was only one more day until the christmas holidays began. The holidays wouldn't make any difference to him. He would officially be remaining at Hogwarts, but he hoped to be spending at least some of it in France with Fleur. He would rather like to spend all of it in France, but he had plans to make. He needed another place, a more convincing, obvious target for the Dark Mark to be cast over.
Nothing springs to mind.
He knew his options well enough. The Dark Mark wasn't lightly cast by Death Eaters. It signified a victory of import, a signature to create a stir and strike fear. Harry couldn't just stroll around casting over random houses. Godric's Hollow was the only place he could cast that might be believable without someone disappearing, and he wasn't so in line with Dumbledore's beliefs that he would willingly sacrifice someone for such a small chance of convincing the Ministry. He was more likely to simply lengthen the list of his godfather's crimes.
Harry pulled his robes on as quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb anyone, though he doubted anyone would hear him rustling over Ron's snores. There didn't seem much point staying bed now he was awake and it was so close to the morning.
Pulling his wand out from under his still warm pillow he conjured a simple, glass goblet fro the air and then whispered the water conjuring charm.
Sipping his slightly warm drink of water he rubbed the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes, made one futile attempt to flatten his hair and slipped as quietly as he could down into the common room.
It was blessedly empty.
The fire had died down over night to nothing but cold ashes, so Harry threw a few logs onto it from the basket nearby and cast a quick spell to set it alight. He almost cast fiendfyre, the offensive, dangerous piece of magic being the first flame spell that sprang into his head, but fortunately he remembered at the last minute and used the simple Fire-Making Charm.
The logs crackled merrily, glowing a hot orange along the cracks in the ash.
Harry was fairly sure that the house elves were meant to take care of the fire, it was alway lit in the evenings, but everyone liked to add logs, and poke the flames, so the dutiful creatures kept a small basket full of wood to one side.
There were several things he could be doing and probably should be doing instead of warming his feet in front of the fire. He needed to speak to Sirius about the prophecy, though he was confident that he would have more success after Christmas when the members of the Order, who likely included the elder Weasleys and other staunch supporters of Dumbledore were unable to do anything to keep his godfather occupied. He could also be doing any of the three essays that were due in. Charms and Transfiguration were no longer a challenge, and he could probably breeze through Flitwick's and McGonagall's assignments in an hour, but Snape, who'd been avoiding him to the extent of only speaking a single sentence to cancel their occlumency sessions, had set an essay on the strengthening solution.
The potion had eerily similar ingredients to those Harry had procured for the second ritual he intended to carry out and a small amount of research had revealed that griffin's claw enhanced the strength of muscle fibres, while salamander's blood, the key ingredient sped up the rate at which the fibres moved, significantly increasing the speed of reflexes and movement, and slightly enhancing strength. The potion used a higher ratio of the claw to the blood relative to the ritual, but Harry had been quite fascinated to see the connections between potions, alchemy, rituals and blood magic all unfolding in front of him.
He knew too much about the potion because of his curiosity to feel satisfied with his normal acceptable or exceeds expectations grade. He also wanted to play with the potion teacher's emotions. If Snape couldn't bare to look at him or speak to him after seeing the memory of his mother, then Harry would have to find other way to remind him of his and its existence.
His other option was to continue plotting while he had no company and time to think. His plan to remove Dumbledore waited only on a single spell and Marietta Edgecombe, the moment Harry could make his way into the Department of Mysteries and see the memory of the prophecy then he would remove the headmaster from his way. That left him free to rid the school and world of Dolores Umbridge, whose recent efforts to claw back control over the students had left her more unpopular than ever.
The blood quill was gone, but a handful of the more outspoken students were beginning to suffer increasingly nasty accidents. The blond Ravenclaw who Harry occasionally saw around Ginny had been given detention for insulting the Ministry with absurd theories and speculation and made to open Umbridge's mail. Unlike Lockhart it seemed someone had sent her an envelope of Bubotuber pus, but Harry had heard that the letter had been blank, and the the Pink Professor had staged the accident herself.
Someone needs to keep an eye on that woman.
Harry couldn't watch her, he didn't have the time and couldn't afford the risk of sneaking into her office over and over again to prevent her from harming anyone else, but he knew of no other way to stop her. He was the only one who could move about the castle unseen and undetected with the cloak, nobody else managed to pass unnoticed.
House elves, he realised. A cruel smile crossed his lips. Perhaps Umbridge would like to have the protection of Hogwarts' only free elf just as I did in the second year.
He pulled himself out of the chair and disillusioned himself to sneak out past the sleeping portrait of the Fat Lady.
The not so secret entrance to the kitchens wasn't too far from Gryffindor Tower and Harry was sure he would find Dobby there.
He strode down the steps into the basement level, taking them two at a time and then along the well lit corridor with its many paintings of food.
At its end lay a large picture of a bowl of fruit within a silver bowl and Harry knew, from overhearing the escapades of the twins and Katie's ill-fated, alcohol inspired kitchen trips that tickling the pear would grant him access.
The pale, green fruit giggled and transitioned itself into a large door handle.
The kitchens were enormous, every bit as large as the Great Hall above, with a high vaulted ceiling, and walls covered in shelf after shelf of brass and copper pans.
It was also full of house elves.
'I'm looking for Dobby,' he announced loudly, drawing the attention of every elf in the room. They froze, staring at him curiously, pausing in their work to look at their visitor. The nearest elf, who was busy preparing fruit for the breakfast drinks, lost his grip on the lemon he was was holding, and the yellow fruit rolled across the table and fell onto the floor.
There was a loud crack and the bright green eyes of the mildly mad elf gleamed up at him in a disturbing adoration.
'Master Harry Potter called,' Dobby, bobbing his head up and down, setting his ears to flapping like broken bats' wings.
'I have something that I need your help with, Dobby,' he murmured so the others couldn't hear. 'There's a teacher at this school who's harming the students and needs to be stopped.'
'Dobby knows the one Harry Potter means,' the elf nodded, 'but Dobby can't help, not while he's an elf of Hogwarts.'
'Ah,' Harry sighed.
So much for that brilliant plan.
'Dobby could help if he had a different master,' the elf continued, still staring at Harry intensely. He was fairly sure the elf had yet to blink.
'If you had a new master would you be able to watch her office and remove anything that could be dangerous to students from it?' Harry asked.
'Yes,' Dobby nodded enthusiastically. 'If Harry Potter offers, if he wants, then Dobby will be accepting him as his master, and serving him as proudly as any elf could.'
'How should I offer?' Harry inquired. 'Is there something I have to do?'
'Harry Potter has to offer Dobby his magic, once Dobby has touched and accepted a wizard's magic Dobby is bound to them.'
'Do you want to be bound to me, Dobby?' Harry didn't want to enslave the elf again, not when he had been so happy to be free of the Malfoys.
'Dobby likes working here,' the elf finally blinked, and Harry almost sighed with relief, 'but an elf is best off with the magic off a master and a family. Hogwarts has enough magic to keep house elves alive and sane, but it's distant magic, Harry Potter, not personal, it's lonely magic.'
'I'm not sure if that's a yes,' Harry grinned.
'Dobby would most certainly like to have Harry Potter as a master, Harry Potter is a great wizard, one an elf would be proud to serve. Dobby heard how master Harry Potter dealt with his nasty former young master.' The elf grinned viciously, and Harry almost took a step back from the sheer malice and hate present in the normally cheerful eyes of the elf.
'Then I offer you my magic, Dobby,' Harry said, wondering exactly what would happen next.
The elf beamed, and reached out one small hand and firmly grasped Harry's wrist for an instant. In that moment he felt his magic surge to the surface and subside again, and Dobby shivered and straightened up.
'Master Harry Potter is a very great wizard,' Dobby uttered adoringly. 'His magic is stronger than Dobby imagined.'
'Can you watch Umbridge for me, Dobby?' Harry asked. 'And if she tries to harm a student, make sure she's stopped. I know you can use your magic within the school walls and remain undetected.'
'Dobby will stay and work at Hogwarts,' the elf agreed, 'he will make sure the nasty pink woman doesn't hurt any of Master Harry Potter's friends.'
'Thank you, Dobby,' Harry smiled. 'Do you still want paying?'
'Master Harry Potter freed Dobby from… from,' Dobby's face screwed up in hatred, 'from the Malfoys and lets him touch his magic. A house elf is greatly affected by his master's magic and Master Harry Potter's magic is strong. Dobby owes him a debt that he can never repay.'
Harry was tempted to ask the elf to stop addressing him as such, but he knew well enough that Dobby would likely no listen unless he gave him a direct order, and that was something he was loathe to do if it was not necessary. Harry did not want servants and slaves to follow his whims. That was a path he was determined never to tread.
'Dobby will go and start watching,' the elf decided, stepping back. Harry was surprised to see that the elf's skin had tanned to a slightly more healthy shade, the lines on his face and the curve of his spine had reduced, and his eyes glowed bright with magic.
Dobby disapparated with a loud crack, leaving Harry in the kitchen in front of a curious horde of elves, who were suddenly a lot closer than before. One of the elves darted forwards to place a lemon in his hands, along with half a slice of buttered toast wrapped partially in a napkin, nodding enthusiastically all the while.
Unsure of what to say he accepted the unusual gift and gave them a wave before turning and heading back the way he had come towards Gryffindor Tower, munching on the toast. Some of the earlier risers might be up and around by now so he snuck back as quickly as possible. The Hufflepuffs dorms and set was around the basement somewhere and he didn't need any more of them thinking he was up to no good than already did.
He ran into Katie in the passageway behind the Fat Lady, staggering forwards as he held her to him to avoid knocking her over, and dropping his lemon. It rolled out of sight.
'Harry,' her voice was shaky and upset, 'we have a problem, a big problem.'
He was suddenly aware that she was holding onto him rather tightly and that a warm, damp feeling was spreading across his shoulder.
'What is it?' Harry asked gently, guiding her back into the common room and trying to ignore the twist of anxiety in his stomach. Katie slumped onto the arm of his chair, sliding partially into his lap until Harry moved across to share with her. The room was otherwise empty, but Katie seemed distraught.
'This,' she pulled a copy of the Daily Prophet out from under her creased robes and Harry got a glimpse of red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks.
Love Triangle at Hogwarts, Harry read, the bottom dropping out of his stomach.
'Fuck,' he swore. Katie started slightly at the vehemence in his tone. It was the first time he had cursed out loud in front of her, normally her didn't swear often at all.
'This bit,' Katie tapped her forefinger weakly on the third paragraph.
'Undeterred by the obstacle I ventured to discover the truth of the matter,' he read aloud. 'Ginny Weasley, a fourth year Gryffindor student and close friend of Harry Potter, who's sensational stores and history have often been a feature of my articles, has her set herself on winning the heart of the Boy-Who-Lived. Your intrepid reporter has discovered that not only does Mr Potter appear to be allowing her affections, but at the same time is pursuing a relationship with former flame and ex-quidditch teammate, Katie Bell. The two of them were known to be briefly together before the Yule Ball last year, but separated under suspicious circumstances when the impressionable Mr Potter suddenly chose to abandon his girlfriend and accompany the French, part-veela instead.'
'It gets better,' Katie commented, her eyes welling up again as Harry's face hardened.
'It seems that having fallen for the allure of Miss Delacour, who subsequently abandoned him, that Mr Potter learnt a few tricks of his own about manipulating the opposite sex and is now stringing along two young, innocent girls in his games. Miss Bell, who according to reliable sources is often seen in close company of Harry Potter, was apparently the slighted party when he assaulted and gravely injured a fellow student, for which he was banned from playing quidditch, and has since become all but inseparable from him as he encourages her to bully and torment younger students.'
Harry stopped reading in disgust. The article only got worse, speculating wildly at what debauched things they must be doing and what dark magic he had to be using to influence Katie and Ginny.
Katie was quietly crying, curled into a ball with her head against his arm.
'Fleur is going to murder me,' Harry remarked, trying to inject some humour into things. His attempt came out weak, flat and worried. Fleur, Gabrielle and her parents would all see this article, and Fleur's family were already reluctant to accept their relationship.
'My parents are going to murder me,' Katie whispered, rubbing her tears away with the heel of her hand. 'They believe most of what the Prophet says, even though they think it sometimes exaggerates.'
'I'm sorry,' Harry apologised, smoothing Katie's hair. 'It's being around me that's dragged you into this.' He steeled himself, taking a deep breath before giving her an easy way out. 'If you want to keep your distance or pretend to dislike me then I understand.' He hoped she wouldn't take his offer, Katie was his closest friend at Hogwarts, Neville was more similar, more likely to understand him, but Katie brightened his day like nobody but Fleur could manage.
'The whole school is going to think I'm some kind of whore,' she spat, angry tears sparkling in her lashes. 'How did Skeeter even know about any of this.' She stabbed her finger at the article, indicating a quote supposedly from Ginny. 'That's word for word what Ginny said outside the portrait last night, but there was nobody there but us.'
There were too many similarities between the quotes and their conversation outside the portrait and Harry's mind was drawn to the speck of blue he had seen crawling over Ginny's top.
'I think I might know how,' he said.
'What?' Katie demanded. 'I hope it's something illegal we can destroy her career for.' Harry blinked, he had forgotten how vicious Katie could be when slighted.
'Sirius Black managed to get in because he was an animagus,' Harry murmured, 'but don't tell anyone that, it might start a panic, if Rita managed to sneak in then maybe she's one too.'
'Ginny had a beetle on her,' Katie remembered. 'It was bright blue. If she's unregistered she could be sent to Azkaban.' Katie seemed quite delighted by the prospect.
'I'm not going to try and expose her,' Harry shook his head. 'She's useful to the Ministry at the moment and she knows it, until they stop needing to discredit me she's more valuable than I am and nothing will happen.' He wasn't lying, the Ministry would never take his word over hers, not now. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try and do something about her, he might be able to bluff her into doing something useful for him.
'So she's going to get away with this,' Katie fumed. 'This article is going to make everything hell. My parents will believe it, the other students will, Fleur will be upset by it and you're telling me you won't do anything.'
'I'd like to think that Fleur knows me well enough not to be worried,' Harry smiled, ignoring the sharp plunging of his stomach at the fear she might not.
'What if I tell everyone about Skeeter?' Katie suggested.
'You've been manipulated and tricked by me, remember,' Harry said acidly.
'There's nothing we can do,' she realised in small voice. 'We just have to live with it.'
'Skeeter will eventually write something offensive about someone dangerous and get her just reward for it,' Harry decided darkly. 'I can reassure Fleur that there's nothing true in the Daily Prophet, even if I have to swear an Unbreakable Vow to convince her, and we will just ignore it, like we ignored all the other rubbish the paper has spouted. It's far worse for Ginny,' he finished, feeling quite sorry for the red-head.
'Oh,' Katie realised. 'She actually loves you, and now everyone is going to know and the think the worst of her for it.'
'Exactly,' Harry frowned. 'I don't think I'll be seeing very much of Ginny for the foreseeable future.'
'What are we going to tell people who ask?' Katie questioned, straightening up next to him and using the sleeve of her robes to hide the fact that she had been crying.
'The truth,' Harry shrugged. 'We have nothing to hide, we're just friends, anyone who really knows us, our genuine friends, will believe us and there's no reason for us to care about anyone else. Your parents will believe you,' he assured her.
Footsteps sounded from the steps down from the girls dormitories and Katie suddenly realised where she was sitting, squeaked in mortification, and threw herself into the chair opposite Harry.
It was Alicia.
'You're down here,' she remarked, coming across to sit next to Katie. 'Have you been crying?' Alicia shot a glare at Harry, the only nearby person and thus te likely guilty party.
'I'm going for a walk to think,' Harry told Katie, 'I'll let you and Alicia talk about things.'
I have a letter to send.
He made his way out of the tower again, ignoring Alicia's whispering behind him. She'd find out what was wrong soon enough, and Alicia knew Katie better than to believe the article.
The Owlery was a long, cold, quiet walk away from the common room. Very few students were up at this hour, and fewer still were out of their house areas. Harry only saw one student, a yawning, upper year Slytherin, who was making his way back from the greenhouses holding a small basket of something brightly coloured. Presumably it was a collection of flowers whose magical properties were lost unless they were harvested at a specific time like dawn.
The window of their dormitory was always open so the room didn't get too hot or stuffy, and once Harry was outside he summoned his quill, some parchment and an envelope to him.
Miss Rita Skeeter, Harry wrote on the envelope as he walked, then quickly continued to pen a brief note offering insider information on the sordid relationship of his housemates in Gryffindor. He left it unsigned.
Pausing on the steps up the tower to the Owlery he linked the envelope and a spare piece of parchment in his pocket with the Protean Charm that he'd decided to learn after seeing Hermione utilise it so cleverly, then Harry enchanted the envelope's address to change to whatever it's current location was, something Skeeter was unlikely to notice.
If he wanted to have a quiet, surprise meeting with Rita Skeeter in her home where they wouldn't be disturbed, then he needed to know where she lived.
Harry continued his way up the tower, folding the letter into the envelope, and sealing it.
'This is for Rita Skeeter, Hedwig,' he told his owl, who was eyeing him indignantly. 'Make sure you deliver it to her home.'
The snowy owl fluffed her feathers hooted softly and hopped towards the window before taking off into the sky.
Time for breakfast, I suppose, Harry thought, descending back down the tower.
The corridors were a little busier now, the wave of early breakfasting students were on their way to the Great Hall and Harry could already hear the whispers about him, picking out his name, Katie's and Ginny's from the conversations around him.
He gritted his teeth and headed into the hall.
The Gryffindor table was mostly empty, so he took a spot close to the end, and helped himself to sausages, eggs and toast. He was quite hungry having been up earlier than normal.
Katie came down when he was about halfway through his breakfast, but she was shepherded away from him by Alicia and Angelina who trapped her in between them as they went to join the twins.
Harry raised an eyebrow at her down the table, but Katie just shrugged miserably and focused on her breakfast, half-heartedly cutting up a piece of toast into smaller and smaller pieces on her plate.
She looked ever more unhappy than when he'd left her in the common room. He hoped her friends hadn't persuaded her to avoid him to try and prove the article wrong, but he had a niggling fear that they might have.
I shouldn't have made that offer, he decided.
He'd not wanted her to accept his proposition of remaining distant, not in the slightest, but by bringing it up he might have let her be convinced that he wouldn't mind as much as he did. Angelina and Alicia certainly had little care for him beyond being Katie's friend, not now he was no longer on the quidditch team and he didn't doubt that they would try to keep them apart if they thought Katie would be better off.
The worst part was that they might actually be right.
Harry returned his attention to his breakfast, moodily slicing his fried egg open and watching the yolk run across his toast and spill onto the plate. He was definitely going to try and do something about Rita Skeeter.
It's a shame I can't make her disappear under the Dark Mark, he thought viciously, stabbing the egg a few more times.
Skeeter's disappearance would not make sense, she was no threat or concern of Voldemort's.
'Has it offended you?' Neville asked, coming to sit beside him.
'It's not going to be a good day,' Harry told him tersely.
'Seen the paper have you,' Neville realised. 'Well it only gets better,' he added grimly, 'Umbridge first thing with ammunition to use against you.'
'I can keep my cool around her,' Harry promised him.
'It still won't be any fun,' Neville warned. 'I've heard from Gran this morning that there's another Educational Decree being passed today, something that lets Umbridge assess and dismiss the other teachers.'
'Wonderful,' Harry exclaimed sarcastically. 'At this rate the whole school will be carpeted and draped in pink, students will be writing their exams in blood, and she'll be the only teacher left.'
Neville watched him worriedly for a moment, before pouring himself some orange juice. 'Have you spoken to Katie or Ginny?'
'I talked to Katie this morning, she showed me the article, I thought we were ok, but I think Angelina and Alicia have since convinced her to avoid me, or are at least trying to make sure that she does.'
'She looks miserable,' Neville commented, glancing down the table to where Katie was sitting silently between her friends.
'It worries me when she's quiet,' Harry agreed.
'So you haven't spoken to Ginny, then?' Harry shook his head. 'I haven't seen her yet, but I overheard that she was crying in her dorm this morning from.'
'Great,' Harry replied dryly. 'I can't even really talk to her about it because she actually does like me.'
'It's a bit of a mess,' Neville decided, helping himself to bacon. 'Ron's furious about it, of course, Dean too.'
'I take it they blame me.'
Neville shrugged, his mouth full of bacon. 'I'm not sure,' he answered when he'd swallowed, 'but probably.'
The other Gryffindors from his year, brushed past them and went to sit with Katie and the twins, Ginny was in their midst, sheltered from the room. Evidently Neville was the only one who was concerned how he was reacting to the article.
'Fuck it,' he said, just loudly enough to carry down the table. 'I'm going to Defence, maybe I can charm Umbridge into loving me too.' There were a few smiles and chuckles, but nobody looked down at him and he had to bite his tongue at the unfairness. He'd been the subject of the article too, but that didn't seem to matter all that much to them.
He dropped his cutlery on his plate and swept out of the Great Hall. It was almost a shame Malfoy had avoided speaking to him since his stay in the hospital wing, he could use a target to let off some steam at.
Harry was the first student to Umbridge's lesson, though he took his usual seat at the back and pretended that the Pink Professor wasn't in the room eyeing him malignantly.
The other students joined him after a long ten minutes of ignoring her.
'Wands away,' she simpered. Harry bit back a laugh, as if any of them had even bothered to get their wands out to begin with. 'This lesson we will be discussing the theory of dark magic and why it is so dangerous to practise.'
Some of the class perked up, surprised to have their low expectations exceeded for once. The lesson had been supposed to be on theory, which really boiled down to Umbridge making them copy from another book while making sure anyone who seemed to be resisting her authority found themselves in detention for one reason or another.
'Dark magic is labelled by the Ministry as some of the most dangerous magic in existence,' the Pink Professor began girlishly. 'There are a whole list of reasons that lead to spells being classified as dark, but the underlying similarity is that they are corruptive.'
Her wide, vicious eyes came to rest on Harry, who was watching her curiously, waiting to see how she would twist this into Ministry propaganda.
'A wizard who practises or is exposed to dark magic becomes addicted to it,' Harry resisted the urge to sigh at the nonsense she was spewing, 'they are twisted and changed until they become dangerous, intolerable individuals with no respect for authority, society or morals.'
Umbridge smiled widely. The class was silent, but everyone knew to whom was referring.
'Half-breeds and dark creatures cannot be trusted for the same reason, dark magic affects them making them dangerous and to their superiors.' Umbridge's pretentious assumption of superiority was one of the few things that he truly couldn't ignore.
The first cold points of anger began to freeze in Harry's chest.
'Known dark spells to have this effect are of course spells like the Unforgivables,' her gaze retuned to Harry, 'those exposed to such magic become violent, amoral and inhuman, influencing and perverting those around them until their infection can be purged. Sadly such individuals often lead others very far astray from what could be considered proper behaviour, engaging in all sorts of lewd activities.'
The ice spread across him, flooding through his veins. Harry's fingers flexed in anger and he had to clench them shut to stop himself from doing something that might derail his plans.
We'll have our revenge, he reminded himself, smiling icily. Every insult now will make things sweeter.
Harry crossed his arms casually, leaning back in his chair with feigned nonchalance and tucking his right forearm under his left, so the faint, green glow emanating from his right sleeve was no longer visible.
Ron's jaw snapped shut with an audible snap.
'Do you have something to add, Mr Weasley?' The Pink Professor inquired sweetly. Harry caught a glimpse of Ron's scarlet ears.
He's going to explode, Harry realised.
The door creaked open and Professor Dumbledore stepped into the room, catching Ron at the moment of his outburst.
'I'm afraid, Dolores,' he said with calm authority, 'that I need three of your students to come with me. They will not be returning to the lesson.'
'Might I inquire whom and why, headmaster?' Umbridge was seething, her scheme to provoke Ron and set another example had born fruit, but Dumbledore had stolen it away from her.
'You may,' the old wizard agreed amicably. A few long moments passed as he waited, a patient, serene smile on his face.
'Whom do you require?' Umbridge asked, the sweetness slipping slightly.
'Mr Weasley, Miss Granger and Mr Potter,' Dumbledore answered immediately.
Harry picked up his bag, nodded to Neville, and rose to his feet. Hermione and Ron were similarly in motion.
'Why are you removing from my lesson?' The Pink Professor inquired.
'I'm afraid that it's a family matter, Dolores, and as neither their head of house nor the headmaster I cannot discuss it with you, especially not in front of other students.' The amicable tone of the headmaster had transitioned into something much sterner. A rebuke that even Umbridge would not yet dare ignore.
A family matter.
Harry assumed that that meant something must have happened to one of the Weasleys. He had no family, and there was no reason for he or Ron to be told about anything that might have happened to Hermione's family. They'd never met.
Ginny, he thought, concerned she might have hurt, or worse, done something stupid while she was upset.
'Follow me please,' Dumbledore instructed softly, leading them to the gargoyle that led up to his office.
'Ice Mice,' he said softly to the statue, then strode swiftly up the stairs.
The three of them followed, Hermione whispering questions to Ron about his sister that the red-head ignored in favour of clenching his jaw in anxiety.
The entire Weasley family with the exception of Percy was in the office. Their faces were pale and drawn, and they turned sad, angry eyes on Harry when he entered. Ginny was among them, crying quietly, and Mrs Weasley, while dry-eyed and silent, looked like she might fall apart the moment her daughter let go of her.
'Earlier this morning, while assisting the Order in guarding something very important, Arthur Weasley lost his life.' Dumbledore's tone was grave and filled with such sorrow that Harry almost believed it sincere. 'He was attacked by Voldemort's familiar, the serpent, Nagini, outside the Department of Mysteries and died before help could reach him. I am very sorry for your loss, he was a brave, good man that we will all dearly miss.'
How many other brave, good people have died following you, Harry wondered, then he realised that meant that Riddle was after the prophecy too.
It struck him as strange, because he had already known about it in the graveyard, so Harry stood in the corner of the office, turning things over in his head, while the Weasleys mourned and Hermione rubbed Ron's shoulder comfortingly.
None of them turned to speak to him, but he caught the condemnation in the eyes of Mrs Weasley when he moved and she glanced at him, and he knew in that moment that whatever Arthur Weasley had died protecting was to do with him.
Harry felt no guilt; he stayed in his corner, feeling very distant from the sadness in the room. It had not been his decision to send Mr Weasley there, it had not been his fangs, nor his familiar that had killed him, but he was certain now that he had to get his hands on the prophecy, because it and its guardians were simply not safe.
Dumbledore folded his hands on the surface of his desk and looked down at the desk. Harry hoped he felt guilty. The prophecy was not his secret to keep or guard. It was clearly about Harry and Voldemort, it belonged to them, not Dumbledore, and certainly not any of the Weasley family who had paid the price for the old wizard's decision to protect it.
I need to hear it, and then it needs to be destroyed, Harry decided.
Harry could make this work in his favour, salvaging some good from this sacrifice that Dumbledore had unnecessarily made.
At Christmas he would make sure that Fleur knew what he was doing, she didn't deserve to be kept in the dark, then he'd try and deal with Skeeter. Ginny didn't need to be trying to cope with the article at the same time as losing her father, and it would benefit everyone if Skeeter could be convinced to change her tune. It was just a matter of getting from Hogwarts into the Department of Mysteries after that. He was sure Sirius would agree that he deserved to know, especially since Harry knowing meant the prophecy could be destroyed and nobody else would then be hurt defending it.
Stick to the plan, he reminded himself, repeating the words over and over in his head. Skeeter. Sirius. Dumbledore. Umbridge. Prophecy.
He took one last glance at the grieving Weasley family and Hermione, then slipped quietly back down the stairs. He didn't spare a glance for Albus Dumbledore, the meddling, manipulative man who was so willing to sacrifice those dear to others, but never ready to dirty his own hands.
AN: Please read and keep on reviewing, thanks to everyone who has.
