Harry Potter and the Power of the White Phoenix

Disclaimer/Plot/Author's Note: SEE FIRST CHAPTER

Recommended Reads: The Focus of a Healer by OfficeSloth, The Potter Alliance by SpitKill, The Legacy by storytellerSpW, Saviour of Magic by Colt01, When Harry Met Neville by SlutPuppy, The Journey Begins by JayColin and Harry Potter and the Rune Stone Path by Temporal Knight

Key Pairing: Harry/Neville

Other Pairings: To be determined

Normal Speech

'Thoughts'

'Mental Speech'

/Parseltongue/

Review Answers:

So, no responses for this chapter: instead, there's this…

WARNING!

This chapter contains a MAJOR twist in the tale that, even before posting it to the site, I KNOW is going to be the victim of a lot of negative feedback, possible insults and even losing readers.

But, hey, remember, this is FANFICTION and it's my story, written my way, so, while you may hate it – and it's a 90/10 level of might, and that's me being kind – I hope the more-trusting and supportive members out there are willing to give it, and me, a chance;

Now…let's get this over with…

(Takes a deep breath…)

And…GO!

"We can work out the details after your so-called trial: for now, let's just get some rest and get ready, because even if Uncle's got a plan, you can bet one thing."

"What's that?"

With a snort, Neville took a deep breath and, as he closed his eyes, he whispered his final thought for the day.

"Whoever's trying to screw you over, they won't let us go without a fight."

Chapter 5: Trial by Light

At long last, the day of the trial came around.

For Harry, who'd spent the past few weeks preparing for what he was about to face, with help from Algernon and Sirius, he still felt a little uneasy, although whenever anyone asked him why, he always gave the same answer…

He didn't know.

He couldn't give an excuse, or even a feasible reason for why his stomach often clenched in such a way that he felt like he was going to be sick while his heart would freeze and his mind would go numb, but if anyone asked him why he felt these things, even though he knew he had nothing to worry about, it was always the same answer.

"I don't know…and that scares me even more."

Even with his troubled mindset, however, if there were any comforts that the White Mage felt, it was that he knew Neville was there and, despite the attempts Sirius suspected on the Order's part and the Minister's hate against Harry, the Longbottom Heir promised Harry he would stay there.

He would be at Harry's side, no matter what and, even if the idiots who tried to control Harry didn't like it, the bright-eyed boy whom Harry called his would never leave him alone. As for Sirius, he was displeased because of how he couldn't use his voice as Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black to help stand in Harry's corner, but in response to that, he did promise Harry that, whatever happened, he would always stand with and believe in his godson.

He might be a convict, but his loyalty was always, first and foremost, to his pup.

So, on the morning that Neville and Algernon would accompany him to the Ministry, Harry did admit it, though only to his boyfriend when he asked him about such things.

He did feel a little better, but the worry and unease still nibbled at his insides…why?

He didn't know and, if he was being honest, it was that revelation that frightened him more than any other.

He felt like he was about to step into the Lion's Den, figuratively-speaking, and he had no idea how he was meant to find his way back out again.

White

Given it was his first trip to the Ministry of Magic ever, Harry had to admit he was impressed and more than a little awed at the size of the magical governing body's main headquarters.

There were many floors belonging to many different departments and, aside from the steady rush of witches and wizards coming and going from the elevators, Harry was also surprised to notice the air of normalcy that clung to the building. This was especially true for him when, as he walked through the entrance, also known as the Atrium, he could overhear snippets of talks and whispers, some of which he heard the mention of his name as well as Dumbledore's.

Next to him, Neville took hold of his boyfriend's hand, as though he'd sensed his mate's ire, doing what he could to keep Harry in a calm, neutral state of mind for now as he whispered, "Don't let them get to you, H: as long as you know the truth and you know you have those who believe in it as much as they do you, you'll be okay."

Nodding once, Harry opened his mouth to respond verbally, but when he did so, his voice seemed to vanish on the way to his mouth, instead being replaced by a gasp of awe as he saw a large, pure-gold fountain that occupied a rotunda where many different elevators and notices could be seen flitting about the Atrium. Above the fountain, Harry's stomach turned with disdain and nausea as he found himself looking at a huge banner-sized image of Cornelius Fudge, his apathetic look and stern glare reminding Harry of what Sirius had said about the man's firm disbelief in the truth.

However, the boy's attention was distracted by the design of the fountain itself.

A group of solid-gold statues stood in the middle of a circular pool; tallest of them was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were several more gilded figures: a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin, and a house-elf. The last three were all looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard while glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of the two wands, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat, and each of the house-elf's ears.

"The Fountain of Magical Brethren," said Algernon, noticing Harry's look, which made the older man smile thinly while he explained, "It's meant to be used to symbolise harmony between witches, wizards and what many would call lesser breeds. The pool at the base is filled with donations that are sent to St Mungo's and used for many different magical purposes."

Harry's eyes softened as he looked away from the fountain and into the eyes of his boyfriend, who shrugged ruefully before he accompanied Harry and Algernon to one of the elevators. Over their heads, the young sorcerer then noticed what looked like a flock of animated paper planes flying into and out of many of the elevators along with his own, some of them darker in colour while others flitted about impatiently, as though they were of the utmost importance.

"Interdepartmental memos," said Algernon, earning a raised eyebrow from Harry as he explained, "They used to use owls, but the mess was almost insane: some of our more Muggle-raised members have also suggested what they call pigeonholes, but the Ministry…well…you know…"

"I do," muttered Harry.

As he said it, however, his expression darkened when, to the shock of the three wizards, they were joined by a familiar redhead, the sight of whom made Harry scowl when said man, also known as Arthur Weasley, offered a kind smile in their direction.

"Arthur," said Algernon, looking past Arthur where he, and Harry, saw a few others join them, one of whom seemed to hurry forwards.

"Algernon…and Harry too, nice to see you're okay," said Arthur, but Harry didn't respond.

Instead, he watched with suspicion as the man who'd run to them, a dark-skinned man dressed in blue robes, whispered something in Arthur's ear.

Whatever he said made Arthur's eyes widen before he asked, "You…are you here for your trial?"

"Or lack thereof," said Algernon, looking from Arthur to the dark-skinned man as he asked, "What is it?"

"They've changed the time and location," explained Arthur, earning an outraged, alarmed look from Harry as he told Algernon, "It's in five minutes down in Courtroom One…in the Department of Mysteries!"

"What?" asked Algernon, pushing his way through the small crowd, much to the displeasure of most of the magic users.

However, when they went to address him, arguing against his movements, many also saw and seemed to recognise Algernon's face and the stern glare, judging by how the protestors soon shut their mouths, giving Harry the impression that they knew who he was and how it was a fool's errand to speak out against him.

In the meantime, the crowd, along with Harry and Neville, then watched as Algernon pressed his wand to a magical panel next to the door.

"Override: authorisation: Unspeakable Level One," said Algernon, slashing his wand downwards while, at the same time, Harry's eyes widened as he saw and felt the elevator plummet down into the belly of the earth. Seconds later, the door opened and, as an unseen voice announced they'd arrived in the Department of Mysteries, Algernon turned to the curious onlookers with a calm, if apologetic smile.

"Apologies for the inconvenience, ladies and gentlemen: the override had to be triggered due to urgent business of the Unspeakable Department. On their behalf, I thank you for your cooperation: Harry, Neville, let's go."

With the two young men accompanying him, Algernon left the elevator.

As he did so, Harry raised his voice as he asked, "Algernon, what was that?"

"Think of it as being just one of the perks of being a man in my position," said Algernon, a note of amusement in his words as he addressed his young charges, "Normally, I don't prefer to use my authority if I can help it, but as an Unspeakable and the leader of said department at that, I have the authority to overrule any and all defences in the Ministry. Of course, the only ones who know about this are the two of you and my colleagues while anyone else just looks on in silent disbelief. If they were to try and mimic such things, however, the secrecy wards around the Unspeakables would trigger a defence that would chain up any false claimants and leave them there until the Aurors or one of my Squad arrived. Fortunately, it looks like we were unchallenged this time."

"Because they know your face?" asked Harry, earning a slow nod from Algernon before the White Mage asked, "Why did you do it now?"

"Because, according to the rules concerning all trials before such a large audience as the Wizengamot or the ICW," explained Algernon, his voice edged by a note of rage and what sounded like the promise of retribution as they walked along a dark corridor that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end, although he didn't know why.

In a bid to overpower his dread, he let himself fall into a habit of listening to Algernon as the older man told him, "Any notice of change in the time, date and/or location of the trial must be sent to the required parties at a minimum of twenty-four hours' notice. The fact that Arthur was only made aware of it because Kingsley Shacklebolt told him…I don't like it."

"Kingsley…that was the man in blue, right?" asked Harry, earning another confirmation from Algernon before he asked, "How would he know?"

"He's an Auror," explained Neville, earning a bewildered look from his boyfriend as he told him, "One of the best, actually: he was in the same class as Uncle James time and, with the exception of Mad Eye, he's probably the fiercest member of their ranks. Unfortunately, he's also a member of the Firebird Circus, so if he knows, then…"

"Dumbledore…" began Harry, but as he did so, he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye that made him stop in his tracks.

Along one corridor off to his left, Harry's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Lucius Malfoy, engaged in hushed conversation with none other than the Minister of Magic himself. Neither man seemed to have noticed their arrival, but as Harry looked, he was aware of Lucius' voice speaking,

"…not asking for much, Minister, but I'm sure you'll do the right thing."

"Yes," agreed Fudge, his voice laced with unease as he explained, "But we must be…"

Whatever else he was going to say, it was cut off as both men noticed Harry standing there; while Fudge's eyes darkened as he glared at the boy, Harry was a little surprised to notice Lucius Malfoy's eyes look him up and down before, to his bewilderment, the older man inclined his head curtly.

Why he did that, Harry didn't know, but he returned the gesture out of what little respect he was meant to show to the people he was about to meet.

As the boy made his way along the corridor towards the courtroom, he saw Algernon waiting for him while Neville looked a little uneasy and a bit worried for Harry as he asked him, "What do you think that was about?"

"I don't know," said Harry calmly, looking to Algernon as he asked, "Do I go in alone?"

"No!" said Neville firmly, but, to Harry's surprise, Algernon cut him off as he put a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, nephew, but from here, Harry and I have to go in alone," said Algernon, earning a shocked look from Neville.

Harry, meanwhile, felt his heart clench while his stomach felt like pixies had decided to go wild inside him as the older man went on, "As you are not yet Head of the Family, you cannot take your seat or vouch for Harry except as a witness. However, as such, you are eligible to be called when the time comes, so wait here and be patient, all right?"

"Yes sir," muttered Neville, a note of pain in his words as he looked to Harry before, stepping forwards, Neville embraced his boyfriend warmly, holding him close as he said, "Good luck…and go get them; that's what they say, right?"

"Right," replied Harry, sneaking a kiss onto Neville's cheek, much to the delight of the Longbottom Heir, as he added, "When we're done here, we'll go to the beach again: give us both a chance to let off some steam and try to enjoy the rest of the summer; would that be okay, Algernon?"

"Of course," said Algernon, his years of experience, the only thing that kept his face impassive as he accompanied Harry into the courtroom.

Needless to say, the sight of the leader of the Unspeakables walking into the courtroom alongside Harry Potter unnerved several of the men and women seated on the benches around the large chamber.

In the middle of the floor, a rickety-looking wooden chair was set up while one side of the courtroom had no-one seated there; Harry, however, knew that this was a spot for called witnesses and anyone who wished to bear witness to the trial, but since Fudge had betrayed tradition, likely in a bid to catch Harry off guard, the witness box was empty…for now.

As Harry and Algernon stood in the middle of the room, the older man leaned in close before he whispered, "Don't sit in the chair, Harry: there are suppression charms on the frame that stop prisoners' magic from reacting. Fudge must be deranged if he thinks he can treat you as such!"

Nodding his thanks, whilst hiding his own ire in the process – especially since he remembered how helpful Fudge had been once when he'd met Harry last time – the young mage looked up as said Minister walked into the room and took a seat that seemed to be higher than everyone else.

As he did so, however, his expression became stunned and a little frightened when he saw Algernon there.

"Patriarch Longbottom?" asked Fudge, a note of disbelief as well as what sounded like fear lacing his words, the thought of which made Harry's lips twitch in amusement as he saw even the corrupt little tosser pale in the presence of real power, "This…this is an unexpected pleasure; what…what brings you to these…proceedings?"

"I am here acting as a neutral witness for the defence," said Algernon calmly, a look of coolness in his eyes while the tone in his voice made a few members shudder as they wondered what he was thinking as he told the Minister, "I am also here to stand in as the counsel of legal representative and consultant to Lord Potter, although I am curious about a few things, Minister."

For a brief moment, the mention of Lord Potter made Harry curious, but he kept his face impassive as he watched events unfold.

At the same time, not to Harry's surprise given what he'd heard from Sirius, Fudge seemed to completely ignore his presence and, instead, he kept his eyes on Algernon as he asked, "What…what sort of things, Patriarch?"

"First," said Algernon, keeping his tone calm, though Harry knew he was displeased by more than just the change in circumstance, "You can tell me why we're having a full-scale, out-of-public-view trial for a simple question of a supposed case of magical use on behalf of a recently-recognised adult of the magical world."

As Fudge opened his mouth to respond, Algernon cut him off with a raised hand, earning a few murmurs from the assembled delegates while Harry smirked thinly as Algernon continued, "Second, you can explain why the charges against my client have been falsified to the point where the charge of which he is accused, use of a Patronus Charm in the presence of a Muggle, is not what happened as our own witnesses can attest."

More whispers rose up following this while Harry also saw Algernon clench his hands, like that was the only thing keeping his wand where it was, as he added in a voice filled with an air of finality, "And finally, you can tell me yourself, Minister Fudge, why my young charge's rights were apparently, willingly ignored when you tried to get the drop on him by changing the time and place of this trial, which we only heard about not ten minutes ago?"

Harry had to try very hard to keep a straight face as he saw Fudge's expression pale with fear and a hint of worry.

At the same time, he noticed a member of the crowd eyeing him and Algernon curiously: she looked like a stern witch by nature, with dark hair and eyes that reminded Harry of a hawk or falcon surveying their territory from the skies.

Given that she was dressed in robes of office, Harry put her down as being someone important.

However, as she caught him looking, the woman politely cleared her throat, directing Fudge's attention to her as he asked, "Yes, Director Bones?"

'Bones, as in Amelia Bones?' wondered Harry, remembering a few of the things Sirius and Algernon had told him over the past few weeks. 'Director of the DMLE and someone who used to be a friend to my family and Neville's? Huh, she looks young; I wonder if she's related to Susan?'

While Harry considered the identity of said woman, the Director rose from her seat as she asked, "Lord Potter?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Harry politely, his eyes on Madam Bones as he heard her address him.

"Is what Patriarch Longbottom says true about the incident in question, the lack of protocol and the fact that your rights have been waived?"

"Yes," replied Harry, his response earning a few curious looks from other members of the court while Harry, lifting his own voice, went on, "While I won't deny I can produce a fully-corporeal Patronus thanks to the teaching aids of a…a former teacher of mine, I do deny the charge of using said Patronus, especially in the presence of Muggles. In fact, as Patriarch Longbottom will vouch for me, the only Muggles present were, sadly, already Kissed by the Dementor that attacked my…my best friend and I in the Muggle town of Blackpool, Lancashire, on July thirty-first of this year."

More murmurs and whispers followed the exclamation made by Harry, but to his disgust, Fudge sniggered with a hint of mocking pity as he asked him, "A likely story; Muggles cannot see Dementors, can they, boy?"

A low ripple of familiar magic brushed over Harry's skin.

As it did so, Harry tried to keep his temper in check as he growled at Fudge, "Call me boy again, Minister, and you'll see for yourself what makes me the celebrity you lot claimed to respect once upon a time!"

"Harry," Algernon remarked, a note of warning in his words as he looked to his young charge.

At the same time, a glint shone in Fudge's eyes, as though he'd actually planned to have Harry lose his temper, just to make this easier on him to eliminate the threat of the truth for what it was, but Harry didn't seem so easily fooled.

"Sorry…" said Harry, taking a deep breath in a bid to calm himself.

In a bid to try and help his emotions remain on the level, he reached out with his magic, finding the bond he shared with Neville while, at the same time, he went on in a calmer tone. "I spoke out of turn, ladies and gentlemen…I apologise…"

Fudge suddenly looked like Uncle Vernon, as he went purple with rage at how quickly and easily Harry kept his temper in check again, while the young boy then smiled reassuringly as he nodded in Fudge's direction, "And, no, Minister: you're correct. Muggles cannot see Dementors, but we magical beings can and, with the court's permission, I would like to produce a witness to vouch for the events in question and help me prove my claim of innocence for what it is."

Before Fudge could argue the point, however, it was Harry's turn to do what he could to mask his rage when the door to the courtroom flew open and another familiar voice piped up.

"Witness for the defence…"

"…Is already present," said Algernon, turning to face the shocked expression that was plainly-evident on the face of Albus Dumbledore, before it was replaced by a look of rage in his blue eyes as he saw the older man standing there alongside an unrestrained and unbound Harry.

As he looked back with the same neutral expression he usually wore, again making it hard, if not impossible for others to know what he was thinking or what he was going to do next, Algernon raised an eyebrow as he asked, "This trial, or lack thereof, has already begun, Albus: so, why are you just announcing your falsely-recognised state now? Are we supposed to be working to some script of yours…or perhaps someone else's?"

Before he could stop himself, Harry's eyes flicked to Fudge before they returned to the old man.

At the same time, as Dumbledore looked from Algernon to Harry, his expression turned into one of pure surprise when he saw the young man smile before he winked once.

With that, Harry then looked away from the Headmaster before he chuckled, as though he'd just been told a funny joke, as he told Fudge and the others, "Don't worry: he's not my witness, but I do wonder who let him in here! Especially since he's been stripped of his power as Chief Warlock of this fine, noble, upstanding and fair governing body of authority."

'Thank you Algernon for those big words,' added Harry in thought, noticing how Fudge seemed to be borderline-pissed-off with the boy's knowledge, while, off to one side, Harry also saw Director Bones smiling, as though she agreed with his choice of words, as well as the light-natured humour he'd shown in questioning Dumbledore's reason for being here.

In the meantime, Harry cleared his throat as he shook his head, "No, my witness is actually Neville Franklin Longbottom, Heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom!"

Not to his surprise, a few sniggers followed Harry's proclamation, mostly from those whom Harry suspected had ties to Slytherin students, but even those sniggers died down pretty damn quickly when Neville, clearly sharing Harry's disbelief at the sudden appearance of the Headmaster, strode into the courtroom as bold as brass, dressed to impress and with a calm, but respectful look on his face.

As he walked towards Harry, standing next to his Great Uncle instead of taking his seat, Neville looked right into the eyes of Madam Bones as, without waiting for any further urging or protocol, he cleared his throat loudly as he addressed the awestruck faces of the Wizengamot, in particular, the Director and the Ribena-berry-faced Minister and his ilk.

"It's true, Director Bones: I can…and do vouch for Lord Potter's claims: no Patronus, nor any attempt to perform such a thing, was used in Blackpool on the date of what was, at the time, the day of our fifteenth birthdays. Furthermore, while the Dementor attack in question did result in the Kissing of a Muggle whom was, sadly, in the wrong place at the wrong time, I also question the way Harry could have cast a Patronus when, as my Family Patriarch will confirm, neither one of us possessed our wands on our persons at all throughout the day."

A look in the direction of Algernon, who nodded with unspoken confirmation, seemed to cause more than whispers and murmurs to rise up, though, again, thanks to the lessons preparing them for this farce of a trial, Harry knew that Neville had pretty much sealed the deal by using Algernon's rightful title of House Patriarch, instead of identifying him as Neville's Great-Uncle.

At the same time, as Harry smiled at Neville, he was aware of Dumbledore's expression darkening while the old man's jaw clenched in a way that would have made a certain Potions Master jealous.

As he returned his attention to the Minister, Harry kept his expression calm, despite the thunderstorm of rage that he wanted to let out, as he asked the Minister, "So, with all the evidence present, and testimonies from two members of another prominent Household, I have to ask it: what were you, or anyone else hoping would happen because of this, Minister?"

His eyes flicked to Dumbledore, who seemed to be fighting the urge to draw his own wand on Harry – though that was also probably because, unlike Algernon, Harry, Neville and, yes, even Dumbledore would have had to hand their wands in for safekeeping upon entry – before Harry sighed softly, rubbing the bridge of his nose in apparent fatigue as he continued.

"I mean, it's bad enough to have to learn that someone is using my name and my one and only claim about an event I will not repeat, if only out of respect for the fallen and this council, to fuel the fires of rebellion in certain other members of our community. But to be so desperate and tactless as to send not one, but two Dementors after two Heirs of Pure-blood Households with the intent of a Kiss on Sight…"

He trailed off, but not without shuddering in dread even as he gestured in Fudge's direction as if to say, "The ball's in your court now."

Looking left and right, Fudge's face was a sea of sweat and worry, as well as rage, wrath and disbelief while, as he looked to where Madam Bones sat, he saw her expression was one of thunderous, suspicious and powerfully-driven emotion, suggesting that this wasn't over.

At the same time, however, Dumbledore piped up as he exclaimed, "But there is a witness who can vouch that Harry Potter performed a Patronus Charm: and given the evidence about Dementors in Little Whinging…"

"Headmaster, with all due respect, weren't you listening?" asked Harry, shaking his head as he asked, "I was in Blackpool, as in the Lancashire coastal town, not Little Whinging, which I've never returned to since being invited to spend time in the company of my friend, Neville, and Patriarch Longbottom for the summer…as I'm sure certain sheep in wolves' clothing can tell you!"

Neville couldn't resist snorting in amusement at the reverse-use of the famous saying, while Harry frowned in confusion as he asked, "So, if I was in Blackpool, then how could I be in two places at once as you seem to believe I was? Let alone with my wand or casting said charm, the lesser of which Heir Longbottom has already said was in the possession of Patriarch Longbottom at the time, and in the company of a witness who I suppose is here on your word?"

Now, whispers were rising up, as was Dumbledore's blood pressure, judging by the tick Harry could see forming over one eye, as Harry heaved a sigh before, deciding to really stick the knife into those who seemed intent on silencing him, he looked back to Neville before he let out a dry laugh.

"Daft or dangerous…I don't think I can tell, how about you, Neville?"

The use of the headline Harry had seen in the Atrium had a few people eyeing Dumbledore suspiciously.

As he did so, however, Harry looked back when he heard a sound that both surprised and impressed him, "Hem, hem."

It was a bit of a dramatic clearing of the throat, if anyone had asked Harry, but as he looked to the source of the voice, he found himself looking at a dark-haired woman dressed in a flowery-pink cardigan with a smile on her face that seemed to be forced, which was something Harry himself had seen and known.

The woman seemed to eye Harry as curiously as Madam Bones had done, but only for a moment as she asked, "Would you mind explaining why you're still here, Professor? Lord Potter has clearly shown he does not need your…influence and, from the evidence given, I daresay this case is to be dismissed, Minister."

"Hear, hear," said Algernon casually, idly brushing a speck of dust from his robe while he waited for the inevitable.

"But…" Dumbledore began, but he was cut off by Fudge, who pounded his gavel on the desk in front of him.

"Case dismissed…with our apologies, Mr Potter."

"I wonder how hard that was for him to say," muttered Harry, silently comparing Fudge's clenched-jaw way of speaking to his and Neville's least-favourite teacher, earning a smirk from Neville as they saw the courtroom empty.

At the same time, Harry turned to see Dumbledore glaring at him with something akin to sheer disbelief and an expression Harry had worn before when he was the one giving it to others.

And that was a look of betrayal.

Before he could say anything, however, Dumbledore found himself looking at Algernon as the man stepped between Harry and the Headmaster, his eyes looking right into the man's twinkling blue eyes as though he was peering into the very essence of what remained of the old coot's soul before, clearing his throat once, he addressed him in that same soft, professionally-toned voice.

"I think that's your cue to leave, Albus: there's no further need for you to be anywhere near Harry outside school."

"Then if he'll come with me…"

"That's not going to happen," drawled Harry, a note of loathing in his words as, apparently free to let loose now that the trial was over, Harry let his proverbial dam burst as he hissed at the old coot. "First, you blacklist me all summer and then you come to my aid when this trial, or lack thereof, is given to me. You also send your sheep to retrieve me, including that treacherous, ass-kissing werewolf of yours who actually thinks he can try and replace my Dad and tell me what I can and can't do. And now, you expect me to toe the line and bend the knee to you and yours? No, Headmaster, I refuse…and do you know why? Because this isn't Hogwarts and, whatever secrets you may have, I want no part of them."

"In other words," said a familiar sweet voice, surprising Harry as he turned to see the pink-cardigan-wearing witch from before had remained behind, her eyes filled with a hint of victory as she told Albus, "Ta-ta, Professor: until we meet again…in the new school term, when I shall have the privilege of teaching Lord Potter and Master Longbottom at Hogwarts as their new Defence Professor."

White

Curiously, at a time when the sound of that sickly-sweet voice should have set Harry's teeth on edge, this time, they only gave him a sense of reassurance that, when he looked to Neville, he noticed was also felt by his boyfriend.

Whoever this pink, unfortunately-amphibious-like witch was, they found themselves glad to be around her.

White

With that, Dumbledore, sensing defeat, drew on every fibre of his grandfatherly persona as he told Harry, "Your friends have missed you…"

"Really? You could have fooled me," said Harry dismissively, indicating Neville and Algernon as he added, "Because, last time we checked, apart from these two, no-one else in the magical world seems to care that I'm still breathing…well, except for those slanderous titles in the Prophet on your word! I mean, I've gone over them like Hermione would go through her books in one night, and I can honestly say that I haven't said even half the things they say I have, but you claim to have heard them from my mouth: you know, in the Muggle World, there's a word for something like that, Headmaster…libel…and I can take you to…well, here, for using it."

He indicated the courtroom as he said the last part, silently reminding Albus of his lack of titles and influences, as he looked back to the old man.

"And unless you leave now, you'll lose more than just your Chief Warlock's mantle," added the newcomer, a note of genuine threat in her words as she told the old man, "As Patriarch Longbottom said, there's no further need for you to be here."

"And what is your interest in Harry, Madam Undersecretary?" asked Dumbledore and, although he didn't admit it aloud, Harry had to agree.

The sudden appearance and apparent support of this mysterious, if unfortunate-looking witch did make him curious, but, even so, he was grateful for the support from someone other than Algernon and Neville.

"None of your business," said Algernon, indicating the door as he added, "Leave, Dumbledore…now!"

For some reason, Harry thought that the words while you still can would have been more appropriate, though he also had a sneaking suspicion they didn't need to be said, especially with how Neville often talked of how scary his Uncle had sounded when he'd made the threat after the attack.

However, as though he'd got the message at long last, Dumbledore finally turned on his heel and left the room, leaving Harry, Neville, Algernon and the Undersecretary alone in the courtroom.

Turning to the strange witch, Harry coughed once before he asked, "Thank you, Miss…"

"Umbridge," said Algernon, his voice edged by a note of sly truth as he explained, "This is Dolores Jane Umbridge, Fudge's Senior Undersecretary."

"Thank you, Madame Umbridge," said Harry, a note of genuine curiosity in his voice as he asked, "But why did you do that?"

"For the same reason that Algernon was here for you today, Lord Potter," said the woman, Dolores Umbridge, indicating Harry and Neville before she said words that, in another time and place, Harry would never have heard from this toad-like witch's mouth.

"Because I am here to help you…and, in the days ahead, you will discover how, exactly, I am on your side, Harry Potter; yours and Master Zero's!"

Chapter 5 and…WOW!

Talk about really flipping the script!

Everyone's least favourite teacher is actually on the side of our heroes and, not only that, but she seems aware of the destiny Harry shares with Neville; God have mercy, what will this mean for fifth year?

Also, with innocence regained, battle lines drawn and new mysteries rising, how will Harry juggle not only a rift in the magical world, but OWLs and an inevitable encounter with those who've made it clear where their loyalties lie?

Keep Reading to Find Out

Next Chapter: After an interesting summer filled with surprising changes, it's back to Hogwarts for our heroes and, as you'd expect, it's not long before someone comes looking for trouble; three guesses whom? Also, a certain someone makes her own debut, in her own way, as Harry and Neville try and deal with the changes and dark clouds that have gathered over their home away from home: fortunately, as Neville is so fond of reminding his White Phoenix: he's not alone…not anymore;

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