Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

I'm back, baby.

Chapter 06 – Locked Girl ~ The Girl's Sealed Room

"Sirius Black." Harry clearly enunciated into the mirror.

It was Sunday night, two days after Dobby had led him to the Room of Requirement, and he was sitting in bed with a Silencio Circumta over the surrounding curtains.

Seriously, why he never suggested using this over literally anything else that would be more easily intercepted is mind-boggling to me.

Harry felt the mirror grow slightly warmer in his hands, and then his godfather's face swam into view.

"Harry? Is everything alright?"

"No, it bloody isn't," Harry said, a tad waspish. "Why didn't you tell me you had this mirror all along? Do you know how easily letters can be intercepted? And with Umbridge in Hogwarts, how long do you think it'll take before she starts doing things like reading students' mail?"

"I…huh, I never really thought of that." Sirius awkwardly scratched the back of his head. "I just thought it'll be a cool thing for you to have, you know. Besides, most wizards prefer writing letters – mirrors are pretty much only used within the Aurors and Hitwizards for quick communication."

"Well, now that we have it, we're going to use it." Harry nodded. "And I'm sorry about snapping at you. This week hasn't been good."

"So, what's up?" From his side of the mirror Harry could see the background shift slightly, which meant that Sirius was probably now lounging on the sofa back in Grimmauld.

"Well, how about I tell you about my first week, and then you can decide?" The words came slowly at first, then sped up. About the nightmares, about Umbridge and the Divination Professors, about his falling out with Ron and Hermione, about the idea to learn and teach Defence.

He could see Sirius grow more concerned with each word. At the end of it all, he let out a low whistle.

"You didn't say you were having nightmares." Sirius said slowly.

"Well, it seemed like a minor detail compared to everything else that's been happening." Harry shrugged. "Besides, I've had them since…well, since the graveyard."

"Merlin's trousers, Harry." Sirius shook his head. "And your scar's been prickling too?"

"Dumbledore says it happens whenever Voldemort was feeling strong emotions. It's probably worse now that he's back in full form." Harry gave a frustrated sigh. "I just wish I can…I don't know, just sleep without waking up screaming, or thinking of some random places or things that Voldemort's been thinking of."

Sirius looked to be on the verge of saying something, but he didn't. After a pause, he seemed to settle for something else. "If this was a one-off thing, I'd tell you to go get Dreamless Sleep Potion, but it's too dangerous – you might get addicted." Harry's godfather gave a wince. "Maybe Occlumency?"

"Isn't that just defending your mind from attack? And mental organization?"

"Yeah, and it also helps with, uh, stabilising the mind." Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Harry, have you been doing research of your own? Because I don't think Occlumency was ever mentioned at Hogwarts. At least, not before NEWTs."

"The new Divination Professor mentioned it during class. She's great," Harry became more cheerful at the thought of Professor Merry. "And she knows her stuff. It almost makes me glad that Trelawney was attacked." Harry gave a lopsided smile. True to his oath, he couldn't tell his godfather about Professor Merry cursing Umbridge, so he decided he'd just leave out that entire event altogether. "Which I more than I can say about Umbridge."

"I'm not surprised to hear about Umbridge. She's a nasty piece of work – you should hear Remus go on about her."

"Lupin knows her?"

"She passed some anti-werewolf legislation that made it nearly impossible for him to get a job. Apparently, she hates part-humans. But Occlumency in Divination?"

"Professor Merry said it counts. I don't think I want to argue with someone who can sense magic and dodge spells blindfolded."

"Dumbledore must have seen this coming, then," nodded Sirius. "I heard some things over the summer, when he and McGonagall were both over. Apparently it was an old friend from Grindelwald's War."

"Grindelwald's War?"

"I think Muggles know it as…" Sirius clapped his hands. "World War Two? Is that what it was called?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded. In the nonmagical schools Harry had attended (and also in the random books he had read), he knew, briefly, that Japan was involved in the Second World War, though not much more than that. Even as a child, history hadn't been what excited him, though he still found it somewhat interesting.

"Yes! I knew I still got it." Sirius pumped a fist in the air.

"Uhh, Sirius?"

Harry's godfather slowly lowered his hand. "Right, sorry. It's just that back in the day, Lily was bothering all of us with Muggle facts, and she said we'd never remember."

"Right…" Harry wasn't sure what to say, even if he was mildly curious.

"Alright, next topic!" Sirius waved his hand to dispel the awkwardness. "What's this about a secret Defence group?"

"I met some Hufflepuffs." Harry shrugged. "Seems like a lot of people are angry about Umbridge, especially those who accepted that Voldemort is back."

"Word from inside the Ministry says Fudge doesn't want the students trained in combat." Sirius nodded along. "He's afraid Dumbledore's going to form his own private army."

"Fudge is an idiot," said Harry bitterly. "Half the students here don't even support Dumbledore."

"Well, he's growing more and more paranoid. I wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore gets arrested on some trumped-up charge."

"Speaking of arrests, you'd better be on the lookout," Harry said, remembering what Malfoy had said to them at King's Cross. "I think they know your Animagus form is a dog."

"Tch. It's not as if I can go out anyway. I've just been stuck here all week my myself, with only that batty old elf for company."

Harry realised with a rush that Sirius was in pretty much the same position as he had been that summer.

"Actually, if you want something to do, you could help me."

Sirius' face visibly lit up. "Anything for my godson."

"Find me some spells." Harry suggested. "Combat spells. Support spells. Anything useful. I don't even care if they're Dark, I just want things that can help."

Sirius gave a bark of laughter. "Don't worry about that, Harry. That's usually a matter of Ministry classification, though James and I learnt to stay away from the nasty stuff like blood sacrifice."

Harry jumped slightly at the casual revelation that his father might have dabbled into the Dark Arts.

"Yeah, that was back in the first war with Voldemort. We learnt a few tricks to surprise Death Eaters. I'll comb through the Black Library and my old notes, send you spells that are safe–"

"Not by owl," interrupted Harry. "I wouldn't put it past Umbridge to be monitoring mail."

"By this mirror, then," nodded Sirius. "Though you'll need to copy it down."

"I don't mind. How does this mirror work, anyway?"

"Modified Protean Charm, some other charms, and some runework, I'd guess," Sirius shrugged again. "You can buy a pair at most wizarding shops, it's not that rare."

"Huh," said Harry, making a mental note. "And do I need to be holding it while I'm talking?"

"If you touch it every, hmm, about every fifteen minutes, it should be fine. Why the oddly specific question, though?"

Harry gave a cryptic smile. "Now, that would be telling."

~~[q]~~

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM: DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR

"For heaven's sake." Flipping open the copy of the Daily Prophet, Harry confirmed that the article was indeed, again, nothing but sanitised propaganda. With a feeling of renewed annoyance, he noted that Umbridge now had the power to inspect other teachers, which meant that she was likely going to appear in more than just the usual Defence classes.

He found it fortunate that she did not appear in History of Magic, nor in Potions, where Snape was being his usual nasty self. Heeding Professor Merry's warning about Snape being a Legilimens, Harry did his best to avoid eye contact, and succeeded in avoiding confrontation once again.

It was not until Divination, where he had settled down into his now-usual seat next to Neville, that Professor Umbridge appeared.

"Ah yes, Inquisitor Umbridge," Professor Merry mildly greeted, the moment the pink-clad witch swept into the classroom as if she owned it. "Kindly take a seat in the corner there–" She indicated a chair and a desk at the classroom's corner, which, unlike the other desks, had not been paired, "–and refrain from asking questions until the lecture is over."

Perhaps unused to the initiative, Umbridge mutely sat where she was shown, where she then retrieved a clipboard from her bag and waited for the class to begin. Harry noted that Professor Usami, who normally stood at the back, seemed to be flicking looks at her every now often.

When it seemed like most people had settled down, Professor Merry straightened her purple dress and began her lecture.

"Today, as a complement to dream interpretation, we shall embark on cartomancy, the art of divination using cards. The most common, of course, is the use of a Tarot deck." With a wave of her wand, a drawing of a deck, neatly laid out in rows and columns, appeared on the blackboard. "Of course, as with all things, multiple versions of Tarot exist. This is the Rider-Waite deck, the most widely-used variant of the Tarot. Hands up if you know which magician devised this."

When no answers were forthcoming, Merry simply smiled and continued. "To be honest, I expected magicals in a British school, of all things, to know about their more famous countrymen in modern history. It was devised by A.E. Waite, a British magician, and published by the Rider company, hence the name of Rider-Waite."

Merry tapped her wand on the board again, and the illustrations changed. "This is the Tarot of Marseilles, more usually used by the French." Another tap. "And this last variant is the Thoth Tarot, devised by Aleister Crowley, another famous–or should I say, infamous, British magical."

When she was again met with blank faces, the Divination Professor sighed. "The battle of Blythe Road is one of the few magical duels has also been recorded in nonmagical history. But since I am the Divination Professor and not a ghost that has been teaching in this castle for over fifty years, I shall not delve more into the topic of Modern Magical History."

There were a few mild chuckles.

"Now, compared to dream interpretation, where there exists multiple interpretations to each symbol due to personal experiences, the meanings of each Tarot card have largely been codified and agreed upon. I will touch more on symbolic interpretation as a whole during our next lesson together, but for now, please come to the front and take your handout for this lesson, as well as a Rider-Waite deck, to be shared between you and your partner."

Above the din of grinding chairs, she called: "A tarot deck only works if it has been attuned to the user, so please channel your magic through it before attempting a reading! The instructions are in the handout!"

Seeing as the lecture portion of the lesson had now finished, Umbridge had now stood up, and was walking over to Professor Merry, undoubtedly to begin to question her.

With a hasty burst of magic (which now came quite easily to him), Harry attuned the surprisingly thick deck of cards, and began dealing them into the Celtic Cross formation as indicated in the handout, all the while trying to listen in on Umbridge's and Merry's conversation. Professor Usami was walking around and helping the students, though she had a distinctly amused look on her face.

"Now," said Umbridge, looking up from her clipboard, "how many years of teaching experience do you have?"

"Five," Merry smiled at Umbridge, "though I am mostly a researcher."

"And your qualifications?"

"Mastery in Charms from Mahoutokoro Higher Magical Academy, and a bachelor's degree in Psychology from Kyoto University." Gesturing at Professor Usami, she went on. "Assistant Professor Usami there has a combined Mastery in Astronomy and Arithmancy, and a bachelor's in Physics, also awarded from the same institutions."

"I see." Umbridge's eyes had narrowed, presumably at the mention of Muggle qualifications. She scribbled a note. "And these qualifications are relevant to Divination?"

"I made sure to review the local textbooks and what was left behind by my predecessor before putting together this course. That is not to mention that a Mastery implies not only expertise in a particular field, but also competence in magical theory in general." Merry's expression had not changed from that same smile. "In any case, I was not aware that a Mastery in a subject was required to teach it at Hogwarts."

"No, of course not," Umbridge bristled, and made another note. "And as a foreigner, do you think you are able to teach in a manner adhering to our British customs and traditions?"

"Seeing as you did not show any look of recognition at the names of two famous British magicians, I would say I am reasonably confident. I am, after all, more well-versed in British magical history than a high-level government administrator who was presumably brought up and educated in this same country." Merry's smile, while remaining unchanged, somehow managed to convey to any onlooker that she thought her partner in conversation was an incompetent of the highest degree.

Harry suppressed a chuckle. Surreptitiously looking around, he noticed that almost the entire class was hanging on the conversation's every word. Glancing over at the other Professor, he saw that Renko now had a smirk on her face.

"I…I see." Umbridge was now furiously scribbling away on her clipboard. "And if you would make a prediction for me?" Umbridge stumbled for a moment, before returning to a tone of faux-sweetness.

"A prediction, you say." Professor Merry hummed, and tapped at her chin. "Well, I predict," she switched to a more ethereal voice, "that you will be out of Hogwarts by the end of the school year."

"I see." Umbridge raised her eyebrows. "Perhaps a little more detail, if you may?"

"There are limits to predicting the future, Madam Umbridge," Merry was still smiling, and Harry had to admire her inner tranquillity at this point. "But for you, I would most definitely say that the end of your time here would be more unpleasant than pleasant, given the track record of previous Defense Professors." She started listing off on her fingers. "Death from possession by a wraith, backfiring Memory Charm, having a private medical condition publicly revealed, and kiss by Dementor." She held up four fingers. "Not a good pattern."

"That is hardly a prediction!" Umbridge exclaimed. "All you did was logically reason!"

"I didn't profess to have the ability to prophesy, Madam High Inquisitor." Merry was still smiling, though her voice turned a hint frosty. "That is something that one is born with, like being a Metamorphagus. The discipline of Divination is simply that by which the average human attempts to recreate karmic revelation. In fact, I would say that a true Seer would actually be ill-suited to teaching Divination, since they would have little understanding of the process, having been gifted with the ability to skip to the conclusion."

Maybe Trelawney wasn't a fraud, just a poor teacher, Harry mused.

"Don't try to confuse me with all those fancy words," Umbridge gritted out. "So you admit that you cannot make predictions?"

"I make predictions as well as anyone who has studied as I have," Merry replied patiently. "True prophecies, as I have been saying, are in the domain of Seers. I am not a Seer. I cannot make prophecies that will detail hitsuzen–excuse me, that will foretell the inevitable."

"So you admit–"

"Madam Umbridge, I have never once professed to being a Seer. I was not hired to be a Seer. I was hired to teach the art of Divination, and I have been doing so in a systematic and rigorous manner." Merry was no longer smiling. "I plan a curriculum, design handouts, do demonstrations, and guide students when they practice. I do not understand what else is required of me. If you would like, I will send you a copy of my notes."

"I do not think that will be necessary." Umbridge gritted her teeth, then scribbled down more notes on her clipboard. Tucking it back into her bag, she made to leave the classroom. "You will receive the results of your inspection in ten days' time."

"Thank you." Merry said gracefully. "As for some free advice, you might want to try eating less at dinner, to improve the quality of your sleep."

Umbridge stumbled slightly, but did not say anything more as she left.

Did Merry just…reference how she cursed Umbridge? I guess nobody would know though. Except me and Professor Hearn.

"Right," Merry said, turning back to the class. "I hope that none of you will pretend that you weren't eavesdropping on that conversation." Harry noted how a few people seemed to have slightly guilty looks.

"So, let us turn that into, as they say, a teachable moment. Miss Patil, I know you were listening." Parvati jerked to attention. "Tell me, would it be possible for one to become a Seer?"

"No, Professor Merry."

"Quite so." Merry nodded approvingly. "Mr Longbottom. According to what I've said, do prophecies made by true Seers always come true?"

Harry felt Neville stir beside him. "Yes, Professor."

"Sorry, that was a trick question. While it is generally accepted that prophecies always come true, there is no way to prove it for certain. In my home country of Japan, several shrines and archives house scrolls of as-yet unfulfilled prophecies. In Britain, to my knowledge, all prophecies are automatically recorded due to enchantments placed long ago by your favourite wizard, Merlin, and housed in the Hall of Prophecy managed by the Department of Mysteries."

The students had now gone deathly silent and goggle-eyed. This was true Magic, with a capital "M", that made household charms and prank hexes look like parlour tricks in comparison.

"All of you would do well to take a deeper interest in your history and roots, even if you may not always like what you see." Merry said softly, only giving the faintest grimace at the end. "One last question, then. Mr Potter," Merry said, turning to fix Harry with a steely gaze, "even if prophecies may always come true, does that give us any reason to behave as if the future is fixed?"

Great, why do I always get the hard questions? Inwardly, Harry sulked slightly to himself, but his complaint seemed to be shouted down by the heaviness of the moment.

"No, Professor Merry. I think–" and here Harry struggled to find the words, "I think if we do that, then it might as well be fixed already?"

"A good attempt, Mr Potter."

~~[q]~~

"Reducto! Reducto!" Harry cast in quick succession, then dodged to the side as a jet of red light flew towards him. Beads of sweat were visible on his brow, as he turned up his wand for another attack–

–only to get hit by an Expelliarmus, followed by several Stinging Hexes.

"Ouch! Ouch! Stop, time out!" As Harry raised his hand, the training dummies froze, then returned to their starting positions.

The Room of Requirement had been a godsend. At least, after Harry figured out how to use it fully. Sure, it couldn't make food or water, and the things it did make couldn't be taken out of it, but it could produce a copy of any book in the Hogwarts Library and some others, and it allowed him to practice duelling–no, fighting, without the help of others.

Still, he had only gotten it to work by envisioning–

An enemy as strong as Voldemort. All of his skill, all of his viciousness, all of his knowledge. That was the opponent he wanted to learn to fight against, but he had been soundly defeated in less than ten seconds.

Thank goodness the Crucio-s that this Voldemort cast stopped when he told it to.

And that was how Harry began to train. Against the shades of the Dark Lord, pulled from his own memory, at just the right level to push him.

Against a group, like a mob during the Quidditch World Cup. Like the circle of Death Eaters back in the graveyard.

With the discovery of the room, almost all of Harry's free time was spent in here. If he wasn't training, he was doing homework, or plotting, or researching spells to use.

It had been two weeks, and Harry was discovering the joys of actually improving in combat, even if it was only slightly better dodging and slightly quicker casting.

Today, though, he would try something new.

"Consecto Arctus!" Harry looked away from the book on the table, and cast confidently. A bright blue ribbon of light erupted from the end of his wand, and Harry whipped it across the chest of a nearby dummy, creating a deep gouge in the magical wood that made up the dummy's chest.

Unfortunately, momentum curved the ribbon of magic back towards its caster.

Finite. Harry hurriedly clamped down on his will, and the Ribbon Slicer dissipated, thankfully only leaving a shallow graze on his forearm.

And to think this is supposed to sever limbs. Bloody hell. But if I can get good at this…

Obviously, a more practical (or even skill-appropriate) spell could have been learnt, but Harry' attention had been attracted to the animated images which showed a caster severing the limbs of several opponents at once.

Well, I guess that's all for spell practice today.

Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, Harry sank down into a simple chair.

And now for the plotting.

He was dimly aware that, apart from his usual morning routine with Neville, he had not really talked to anyone else casually for the past two weeks.

Reaching out a hand, he wandlessly Summoned his bookbag towards him from where it lay a few feet away.

Good, at least this time it didn't smack me in the face.

From within, at the very bottom, he retrieved a small notebook (owl-ordered, sixteen Sickles) and reversed the simple Ink Invisibility Charm he had been using to keep his notes hidden.

After his conversating with the Hufflepuffs, Harry had kept to his word and actually given teaching Defense some thought. Apparently, the fact that Harry had been somewhat agreeable to teaching had already been spread around some, enough for Neville to have brought it up during one of their sessions.

With that, he had been busy researching more Secrecy Charms of the binding variety, as well as thinking over exactly where and who to teach.

There was pretty much only one option for the location.

Not here – I'm going to need this place to myself. Maybe only as a last resort, but I have the feeling I haven't really plumbed the depths of what this Room can do yet. No, it's going to have to be a classroom. And I know a friendly teacher who'll probably let me use one.

The Divination classroom, or one of the Divination classrooms. And as for who he wanted in his little club…

Those three Hufflepuffs – Ernie, Hannah, and Susan, I think. Neville, obviously. Not Ron or Hermione.

After a second mirror call to Sirius, his godfather had basically called him out for basically ignoring his best friends for the past four years, but Harry had remained stubborn. At this point, Harry sort of knew it was descending into spite for the sake of it, but…

I can't let go. I just can't.

He drew his mind back to present matters.

Right. Not Ron or Hermione. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff…maybe a Ravenclaw?

He briefly though about inviting Cho, but…

Not after coming back on a Portkey with the dead body of her boyfriend. Nope, not a good idea at all.

There was only one Ravenclaw he felt friendly or comfortable enough with thus far. And whom he somewhat wanted to see again, for some strange reason.

Luna Lovegood.

"Well, I guess that's good enough for now," Harry mused out loud to himself. Names, a location, and a list of spells had by now been doodled down in the notebook, the contents of which Harry turned invisible again with a wave of his wand.

He once again got the strange feeling of amusement, as if the very room he was in was reading his thoughts. It wasn't the first time, too – the same thing had happened plenty enough, usually after he had been trounced particularly badly by his training simulacrums.

Nah.

Nevertheless, Harry still felt it was polite to at least ask, especially for the spells he wanted to perform next.

"Hey, Room," he said out loud, only feeling a little bit stupid. "Is it okay if I ward your entrance? I don't really want anyone else discovering this place, at least until I graduate."

There was no response.

Oh well. I guess I'll just go ahead and do it.

He had all but cleaned up and was nearly at the door when a heavy tome appeared and landed on his big toe.

Founders forbid, was that really necessary?

Bending to pick up the book, he noted that it was open to a chapter titled "The Agreement of the Sages". Sighing, he closed it and put it back onto a nearby table which just materialized.

Well, I guess that's a clear an answer as I'm ever going to get.

This chapter took too damn long because I was trying to find a way to write Sirius without relying on the usual fanfic tropes (like calling Harry "pup"). On the plus side, Umbridge's inspection of Merry was fun.

Rowling calls her Japanese magical school "Mahoutokoro", which literally means "magical place". It is the magical school equivalent of calling a boat Boaty McBoatface, except that I don't think Rowling was making an attempt at humour. Needless to say, I'll be using the term somewhat differently (and also ignoring Cursed Child and the new movies).

All the information about Tarot that Merry mentioned is true to the extent of my knowledge. The part about Crowley was inspired by A Certain Magical Index, New Testament Volume 18, though this is not a three–way crossover.

Not yet.

…

…

…

I'm kidding.

Review please!