Chapter Nineteen: Friend and Foe
The early hours of Sunday morning found Harry and Draco battling out their thirteenth game of wizard's chess. Over the course of the night, Harry managed to tell Draco about the Philosopher's stone, Moaning Myrtle, all three tasks of the Triwizard Tournament, and Sirius Black's escape from Hogwarts and the Ministry on the back of Buckbeak the Hippogriff (Malfoy still had a few choice words to say about the hippogriff). Malfoy listened, laughed, and almost cried when Harry talked about Sirius falling through the veil at the Ministry.
"What about you?" Harry asked as sunlight began to filter through the windows of the infirmary. "You've been avoiding my questions all night! Isn't there anything you can tell me about the life of Draco Malfoy?"
"Suffice it to say, that amulet I gave you has kept me alive on more than one occasion simply because I knew when to get out of the house. Malfoy Manor is cold and empty and old. If I go back when I'm sixty it'll be too soon."
Harry watched his new friend's face carefully. Time was getting short now, and maybe it was the sleep deprivation, but Harry decided to take a risk.
"How is it that you never knew that your father was a Death Eater, Draco?" Harry asked bluntly. "You always seemed like you knew, like you had every intention of becoming just like him."
Draco's eyes suddenly seemed to be glued to the floor. "Ignorance is bliss, Harry," he responded so quietly that Harry almost didn't hear him. "Subconsciously, I think I always knew. But I'd have done anything last summer to slip back into denial. When you came back from the Ministry last June, I hated you more because you broke my little bubble than because of what you actually did." Draco lifted his face and looked Harry in the eye.
"It was easier to hate you for tearing down my walls than it was to accept that I had been wrong," he said, and then he dropped his gaze to the floor again. "So I tried to convince myself that it wasn't such a bad thing if my father was a Death Eater, that maybe he had the right idea and You-Know-Who was the guy to get the job done as far as purifying the wizarding world. So when they asked me to help them get to you, I did it. My revenge turned into my undoing, though." He paused for such a long time that Harry thought he should prod him along.
"What happened?" Harry asked.
Malfoy continued then, as though Harry had not spoken at all, "It was when I saw you step out of that muggle car, the way you just knew…just knew that something was wrong. I could see it on your face. I couldn't do it, couldn't let them capture you. So I sent the stunner just to warn you. And then you didn't leave!" Draco sounded desperate, as though he were reliving the experience in the telling. "You made your relatives leave, but you stayed there to fight, and you must have known how outnumbered you were. I have never in my life seen anyone do anything so noble. You can't imagine how relieved I was when they came back and pulled you into the car. I have no idea how you managed to escape them, but you did, and that's the important thing."
"How'd you stay out of trouble?" Harry asked, "Wasn't your father angry about the warning shot?"
"Oh, he was angry," Draco nodded, "But he told the others it was simply the result of nerves and inexperience. And I got into plenty of trouble! He promised them all he would train me better than 'the old fool,' and he put me through hell the rest of the summer. He had me practicing curses and hexes and acting out fight scenes all summer long. I've never been so miserable."
Harry raised an eyebrow, "What was so miserable about that? That's what I've been doing to you in the D.A., too. You didn't seem to upset there."
"I was miserable because I knew every skill I was learning was meant to hone me into a killer to be enslaved to a Dark Lord. I was miserable because I knew that they would expect me to use these skills to help the Dark Lord kill you, and I didn't want to kill you. I still hated you for ruining my little world, and even tried to blame my new predicament on you. It was your fault that I was now in full training to become a Death Eater because you pulled my father's secret out of the closet. I couldn't hide from it anymore, and I couldn't deny it. So I hated you, but not like before."
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," Harry said.
"Don't be," Draco replied, his voice suddenly clear and full of determination. "If it hadn't been for you, if you hadn't gotten Father thrown into Azkaban, if you hadn't been so darn noble in the face of such great odds, if you hadn't stood up to me on the train, as usual, what was it you said to me? Oh yes, '…crawl back under the rock from which I sprang…' that was particularly amusing, I must say."
"Sorry about that," Harry murmured, looking at his feet that were dangling off the infirmary bed.
"No, you were right. I am a spoiled brat, or at least I was, hiding under the strength and power of my father. It was about time I got that lesson beat into me. How does your girlfriend do that bat hex?"
Harry laughed, but also felt the weight of Draco's statements and saw the anxiety and tension written on Draco's face, and thought it was time for a lighter conversation.
"So, um…how did you end up dating Parvati?" he offered as a change of subject.
"Parvati…Mmm," Draco's smile returned and a dreamy expression washed over his face. "It was right after I ran into you and your gang of Gryffindors on the train that I passed by her in the corridor. She is the most beautiful witch at Hogwarts! She passed by me and scowled at me, and everything you'd ever said about me seemed to be written all over her face when she looked at me. But I was smitten." Draco shook his head and laughed softly. "I sought out every opportunity to be wherever she was from then on. I was determined to show her that I wasn't everything you said I was, and wasn't anything like my father. But the harder I tried the more I saw just how much like my father I had become. Still, she was talking to me, and that was a start. It wasn't until after I joined the D.A. that she agreed to date me." He paused for a moment, as though relishing that happy memory. Then a sadness seemed to come over him and he continued, "When I told her I was in love with her on Christmas day, she said I would have to choose. It was either her or my father. She said she had no intention of giving her love to anyone who would try to hurt Harry Potter. That was harsh. There you were again, right in the middle of things. It seemed it was always you standing in the way of every dream, every expectation, every belief I'd always had, and I was angry. When I heard about the Weasley's house burning down, I had to take it out on you. It was so perfect. Here was me, everyone thinking I was the Death Eater in training, and Weasley's own brother, the former Head Boy, turns out to be the bad guy! And then the letter came from home…"
The blonde boy put his head in his hands, the chess game thoroughly forgotten. His shoulders shook slightly and his fingers raked through his hair. When he looked up again, tears were streaming down his face. Harry looked away, embarrassed, but Draco's next words pulled his attention back to the suffering Slytherin. "He hurt my mum," Draco spat venomously. "That bastard actually performed the Cruciatus curse on my own mum!"
"Who did it, Draco? Was it Voldemort?" Harry asked, emerald eyes locking with silver.
"I wish it had been him…no…my father did it, on You-Know-Who's command, but still, he did it. He tortured her and then gloated about it to me, saying I'd get the same if I didn't behave better. Father said Mother deserved what she got for not teaching me to be the kind of son and heir I was meant to be. He said he would kill Parvati and her whole family, and me as well, if I didn't come back and join the brotherhood."
"The brotherhood?" Harry asked incredulously, "They consider themselves brothers?"
"Oh, far from it, at least their actions would suggest otherwise. And yet, they refer to themselves as the 'Brotherhood of Victors over Death.'" He said the title with a sing-song like derisive tone. "Death Eaters is what everyone else decided to call them."
"Wow," Harry breathed heavily. It seemed his change of topic wasn't as lighthearted as he'd hoped. Still, he was aching to know more about this veritable anomaly before him. "So I guess I know what you decided to do after that," Harry prompted.
"Yeah, but it was not an easy pill to swallow. Looking into Weasley's face, that day in the library, it was just too much. After everything I'd done to him, and his sister, and you, and even Granger, I almost couldn't do it. Asking Dumbledore for help was one thing. He's a Professor. He's been letting me stay here all this time, and surely he always knew what my parents were. But if he could let Professor Snape teach, even be head of Slytherin house, surely he could forgive me for what I had become under my father's training. But you…" Draco ran a hand through his hair again, "I had done unspeakable things to you, and to your friends, and knowing what you thought of me…what you knew about me…I really expected you to send me to the dogs!"
"I wouldn't do that," Harry whispered.
"I know," Draco whispered back, his eyes on the disused chess board. Then he added more clearly, "I know that now, but not then. Still it was my only hope, and it helped that you let me tell you without the Weasleys and Granger there."
Draco's mention of Hermione brought another huge question to Harry's mind. "Can I ask you one more thing?" Harry said, fearing Malfoy might be too wrung out to talk anymore.
"Sure," the other said, a quiet resignation in his eyes.
"Why…why do you hate muggle-borns? What do you have against wizards and witches who are born to muggle parents?"
"I don't hate them anymore, Harry," Draco said.
Harry's mind did a little flip-flop as he tried to process that statement. "You don't?" he asked disbelievingly.
"No," Draco shook his head lethargically, "I used to though. Father always said…and who doesn't believe their parents about things like that? But anyway, Father always said that the more wizard kind mixed with muggle kind, the more their children would be born with fewer and fewer powers until there would be no wizards left. Such a fate is frightening for a young person, and it seemed to make sense. But Granger is the most powerful witch I've ever dueled. Even Bellatrix Lestrange can't measure up to her in sheer fighting ability. Bella's just quick, that's all. She knows when to duck and when to run to keep herself alive. But Granger is powerful, no question about it. I don't know how, but she is. And then there's you."
Harry looked carefully at Draco. There was that characteristic smirk again, but it was coupled with a look of pure awe as the other surveyed Harry's face, his eyes coming to rest for a moment on Harry's scar. But then Draco looked Harry directly in the eye and his voice took on the sort of strength that comes of conviction, "You have to be the most powerful wizard I've ever met. And you're only a half blood. And Neville Longbottom, and Vince and Gregory, they're all pure-bloods. But they're practically squibs. Of course, Longbottom's head and shoulders above those two buffoons now, thanks to you and the D.A, but he's not nearly as powerful as you or Granger. I don't understand it, and I can't say as I ever will. But what Father always said just doesn't ring true. Powerful witches and wizards don't always come from powerful pure-blooded wizarding families."
There was such sincerity, such remorse in Draco's words, and the sheer honesty with which he offered up these compliments to Harry was overwhelming. Harry sat in silence and simply stared as Draco spoke, and he was thoroughly relieved for the distraction when Madame Pomfrey came in to check on him again at daybreak.
"Have you two slept at all?" the healer questioned them. "For crying out loud, Potter, you should be resting. Well, that's that, then, there's nothing for it. The both of you are going to take a dose of dreamless sleep potion and sleep for the next six hours at least!"
"Can we have some breakfast first?" Harry asked brightly, "I'm famished!"
"I'll have some sent up shortly, and then you are both going straight to sleep. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Ma'am," they both answered.
Breakfast arrived a few minutes later carried in by Dobby and a few of the Hogwarts House Elves. They set the trays in front of the boys' beds and apparated out again. Harry tucked in hungrily, but noticed that Draco was barely picking at his food.
"Is something wrong, Draco?" Harry asked.
Draco put down his fork and stared at his food. "I was just thinking to myself how much better the food is at Malfoy Manor than it is here…and then I remembered that I won't be eating at Malfoy Manor again for a very long time."
"I'm sorry. You've given up a lot…you must be wondering if it was worth it," Harry tried to understand.
"No, it's worth it. The choice was really between becoming a horrible tyrant in an old stuffy castle where the food happens to be good, or have a clear conscience and live with the famous Harry Potter, heaven only knows where, and take a chance on the food…"
"Well, if it's any consolation, I expect the Weasleys will be there this summer too, and Mrs. Weasley is a fantastic cook!"
"The Weasleys?" Draco sounded startled at the thought. Harry glanced at him and grinned.
"I imagine Hermione will drop in as well at some point, if she doesn't stay the whole time like she did last year."
"Granger too?" Draco sounded like he was going into shock.
"And her parents…"
"This had better be a big house Potter!" Draco glared at Harry.
"It'll suffice…" Harry grinned at the horrified look on Draco's face. "Don't worry so much. If the Dursleys can survive a summer there with us, I'm sure you'll fit right in."
"Please tell me your muggle relatives won't be back this year!" Draco sounded exasperated as he scrunched up his face and covered it with his hands hiding the redness in his cheeks.
"No, I certainly hope not…though Dudley was almost civil there at the end."
Draco let out a long, low sigh and said, "This is sure going to be an interesting summer."
Harry wondered what Draco would say if he told him that members of the Order of the Phoenix would be in and out every day as well, and he thought about what a shocking transition it would be for Malfoy to leave a huge castle where he was always alone and live instead at the always crowded, always busy, always noisy house at 12 Grimmauld Place. It would probably be very much like leaving the cupboard under the stairs to enter a world where he was famous for something he couldn't even remember.
"You should eat," Harry said in what he hoped was a comforting tone, "before it gets cold."
Malfoy offered Harry a wan smile and placed a sausage obediently into his mouth with a "Yes, mother," expression on his face, and Harry laughed.
When Breakfast was finished, Harry and Draco took their potions obediently and settled back into their pillows for a good nap. After the depth of their conversations through the night, Harry was looking forward to a dreamless sleep.
"…what made you think you could deceive the Dark Lord?" a cold voice hissed. "You shall suffer for your insolence! Lord Voldemort is not betrayed so easily!"
"For nearly twenty years I have opposed you in secret. If you destroy me now, it does not matter. I have lived honorably and shall die honorably!" a caged man with dark, oily hair and a hooked nose said.
"HONOR! What honor is there for you? None but the old fool knows of your true allegiance. Your name will go down in history as having lived and died in my service. There might have been honor, had you served me faithfully, but among my faithful brethren and within the public eye alike, you shall be known as the traitor! For that is what you are."
"The Boy knows what I have been! He will fulfill his destiny and vanquish you and all your host of slaves and inhuman minions. You, Lord Voldemort, will die!" The captured man spat the name with intense distaste, as though attempting to remove the filth of it from his lips.
"You dare to speak my name!" screamed the captor, " Crucio!" The caged and shackled man fell to the floor, his body arched in excruciating pain, but he refused to scream, refused to utter a single sound as the torture continued.
"How have you come to this end, Severus?" the Dark Lord asked when he had lifted the curse at last. "I could just kill you now, but I shall wait. Yes, at the end of this week my faithful servants will have accomplished the tasks I have required of them, and then, in full view of all, as an example to them of what happens to those who dare to betray me, then you and Potter both shall die."
"The school will be expecting my return before then," Severus said dully, knowing the pain he would endure through the coming days. "They will come searching for me. You cannot afford to keep me alive for so long."
"Oh, not to worry, my dear Severus, though it is most kind of you to show concern for my welfare. But that little problem has already been solved. I believe you are expected to return tomorrow morning along with the crew I've sent to…investigate…The School will not miss you. I assure you of that. I have sent another in your stead, a more accomplished, and far more faithful spy to take your place at the old fool's side. They will not even know you are gone from them until it is much too late to rectify the situation."
"You cannot fool Dumbledore with Polyjuice or a Morphus Draft. He will know."
"He will be far too preoccupied with the investigation to pay it any mind," the Dark Lord sneered. "Don't flatter yourself so. He will not know, nor will he miss you all that much when your absence is discovered. By then, he will have discovered what a treacherous troublemaker you truly are. Good day…Severus…my pet."
An angry growl emanated from behind the bars of the cage as the Dark Lord turned his back on the prisoner and strolled purposefully out of the room.
"Harry…"someone was calling. "Harry!"
"Hmm…" Harry grunted and rolled over.
"Oh for Merlin's sake, Potter, wake up!"
"What?!" Harry sat bolt upright and a startled Draco fell backward and landed with an "Oof" on the floor.
"Bloody Hell, Potter…"
"Draco? What are you doing on the floor?" Harry asked as he rubbed his eyes blearily. For having taken a dreamless sleep potion, he'd sure had one heck of a dream. Something about a dungeon, or a prison, perhaps he'd simply been cooped up in this infirmary too many times and it was starting to affect his subconscious thoughts.
"Oh, me? I'm just checking for spiders," Draco drawled sarcastically. "Look there goes one now," he added truthfully, getting up in a hurry and dusting off his robes.
"Probably one of Aragog's children," Harry said, and his pronouncement was promptly followed by a wide yawn.
"Aragog? Who is Aragog?"
"Spider…big…lives in forest…friend of Hagrid's…" Harry explained disjointedly as he swung his bare feet over the side of the infirmary bed and began to pull on his trousers.
"I don't suppose I want to know the rest of the story, do I?" Draco drawled.
"I dunno, do you?" Harry peered at his companion with one half-open eye. Without waiting for the Slytherin to respond he began brightly, "Aragog is a ten foot tall eight eyed spider that got Hagrid framed as the person petrifying students the first time the Chamber of Secrets was opened. Ron and I went and had a chat with him after Hagrid was arrested when the Chamber was opened the second time. The only thing Aragog could tell us was that Hagrid was innocent and that the muggle-born girl had died in the bathroom. We took a chance and guessed it was Moaning Myrtle who had died, and that's how we found the entrance into the Chamber of Secrets."
By the end of his story telling, Harry had finished dressing and the two boys began to walk toward the Great Hall in search of some lunch.
"Merlin, Potter," Draco said, "You spoke to a ten foot spider in its own domain and escaped to tell the tale? Add that to the Basilisk and four encounters with You-Know-Who, and we should stop calling you 'The Boy Who Lived' and start referring to you as 'The Boy Who Refuses to Ever Die'!"
"I'd rather you just call me Harry," Harry said sincerely as they stepped into the Great Hall. As always, every eye in the room immediately turned to see Harry enter, and a murmur spread through the room when they saw who had come in with him. Harry sighed and walked in, but Draco, not used to this kind of attention, stopped short. When Harry noticed that his companion was no longer with him, he turned around to see where Draco had gone. The boy who had always vied for the whole school's attention stood frozen in the doorway now that he'd gotten it. Harry walked back to Draco, took hold of his arm, and pulled him into the room.
"Why don't you come and sit with the Gryffindors today?" Harry suggested. "I think Parvati would like that, don't you?" Draco stared at Harry for a few seconds and then scanned the room again as he began to walk in the direction Harry was leading him.
"I've always wondered…" the pale boy said.
"Wondered what, Draco?"
"…Wondered what it was like to be you around here. Now that I know, I have to say, it's not as great as I thought it would be."
"I'd have to agree," Harry said as they approached his friends at the Gryffindor table. Harry kissed Ginny and sat beside her, pulling Draco into the seat on his other side. "A little privacy would be nice now and then."
Whispers and gasps washed through the room as the students watched Draco sit down next to Harry at the Gryffindor table. When Parvati picked up her things and moved to sit beside him, planting a kiss on his reddening cheek, there was a sudden shrieking from the Slytherin side of the room. Turning to look for the source of the noise, Harry observed a distraught looking Pansy Parkinson running out of the Great Hall. Draco ignored the Slytherin girl entirely though, his attention absorbed in the Gryffindor girl sitting beside him.
Harry smiled and said quite lazily, "Pass the chicken, will ya Ron?" Ron nodded and without looking up from his own food, passed Harry the plate of chicken.
Monday morning started out all right. Harry woke up early to look over his lesson plans, nervous about the start of Umbridge's "Ministry" investigation. He wasn't sure why he thought Voldemort was behind it, except for the obvious reason, Voldemort being in control of Percy Weasley and therefore the Ministry. Still, something was nagging him at the back of his mind, telling him this was going to be a week he'd never forget, no matter how much he'd want to. So he was studying feverishly, hoping that whatever he was teaching his students would by some miracle satisfy the Ministry as to the safety of the students at the school. A memo had arrived by Owl post in Dumbledore's office the evening prior detailing the safety measures to be inspected and requesting certain information. The memo had been passed to all the staff members, Harry included, for review. With a sigh, Harry set down his class notes and scanned the memo for the ump-teenth time.
"Dear Professor Dumbledore and Staff," Harry read quietly as he sat in his favorite chair by the fire in the common room, "Please see the itinerary below for expected and approved safety inspection procedures, their dates and times. We assure you that the best trained members of the Department for Magical Educational Review have been selected for their skill, dependability, and excellent record for service within the Ministry of Magic…Blah, blah, blah, blah…Dear Merlin, could they give any more praise to that toad woman and her league of educational bullies?" He scanned the list of procedures again.
"Monday: 9:00am until 12:00 noon, Testing of wards, defenses, alarms, and armory response.
Tuesday: 9:00am, Student Awareness Drill #1: Returning to school from grounds at the sound of an alarm. Time, orderliness, and cooperation noted.
Wednesday: 10:00am, Student Awareness Drill #2: Evacuating school in case of internal breech of security at command of Headmaster. Time, orderliness, and cooperation noted.
Thursday: 3:00-5:00pm, 7:00-10:00pm, (Serving of evening meal allowed between 5:00 and 7:00) Students Dueling skills examined. All students are to be tested within the Great Hall.
First Years:3-3:30pm
Second Years:3:30-4:15pm
Third Years:4:15-5:00pm
Fourth Years:7:00-7:45pm
Fifth Years:7:45-8:30pm
Sixth Years:8:30-9:15pm
Seventh Years: 9:15-10:00pm
Any students who do not appear for their test will be detained from 6:00-9:00am Friday morning at which time they will be examined for their dueling skills. Students who do not appear for either test session will be expelled from school for failure to comply with official Ministerial Educational Decrees.
Friday: 9:00am, A written exam will be administered to all students regardless of class level to determine their understanding of Evacuation and Return to School procedures, dueling skill procedure and technique, Dark Creatures that might be utilized by any attacking dark wizards, and seriousness of any attack situation. Students with high scores on the written exam will be rewarded with an extra Hogsmeade trip in June. Students who do poorly will be required to attend a training class to prepare them for the possibility of future attacks.
We respectfully request a written prospectus of all materials covered in all classes since the beginning of the school year, as well as those materials expected to be covered over the remaining two months. Ministry officials will be observing teaching procedure in several classrooms, according to the discretion of the investigators. Classrooms to be observed will not be pre-disclosed, and teachers may or may not be aware of the presence of said investigators.
The Ministry of Magic Department for Magical Educational Review expresses its gratitude in advance for the hospitalities and cooperation of the staff and students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Most Cordially Yours,
Minister Percy Weasley, Minister of Magic
Ms. Dolores Umbridge, Head, Department for Magical Educational Review
Mr. Angelo Rumsfedlt, Senior Undersecretary, DMER
Harry laid the memo on the table in front of him and picked up the pile of prospectuses he'd hastily put together after first receiving the memo last night. If there was anything to be gained from this investigation, it had at least helped him see the value of a prospectus in a teaching assignment. It had taken him hours to find all the old parchments that held his former lesson plans and read through them. Tonks may have been the official teacher, but for the four grade levels over which Harry had been given leeway, Harry had been entirely in charge. Tonks had never once questioned him in his motives or decisions, nor had she offered anything but praise for his methods. Classes had gone smoothly, and were often very enjoyable, but his record keeping, other than individual grades of students, had left something to be desired. How was he to know next year what any given student had learned or observed? Now that he had all these records found, he realized how far his first through fourth year students had come, and he couldn't help but feel proud of them. Little Brittany Maddox had gone from a cowering softie to a formidable opponent, disarming, hexing, and blocking in a duel with speed and agility. Dennis Creevey was less of a revering fan and more of a commensurate equal. And Courtney Mikhail was among the few Slytherins who had joined the D.A. half way through the school year.
Taking out his wand, Harry made a duplicate of each prospectus, one for each of the four grade levels he taught, and set aside the copies to keep for reference in the coming school year. The originals he set on the stack of parchments to be delivered to Dumbledore by 8:00am this morning. With a wide yawn he leaned back in his chair and stared at the fire. Holding up his Occlumency barrier so as to permit Ginny a peaceful sleep during his personal fit of anxiety was almost as tiring as the tedious paperwork he'd been working on all morning. He was glad to know that teaching wasn't always like this. The moments in the classroom when he'd seen a student perform a spell correctly for the first time were exhilarating, and he lived for those. And the lessons he'd learned about himself along the way were precious pearls of wisdom. This year had been less dangerous so far, but certainly not any less interesting than the previous ones. His experiences had included the Ptolemy bond, Pettigrew's impersonation of Filch, working with the D.A. and teaching classes, they'd won the Quidditch Cup again, and he'd learned a valuable lesson in forgiveness and second chances from Draco Malfoy. Still, he wasn't so sure he was apt to be fool enough to extend the same hand of welcome to Dolores Umbridge today as Ron had given to Draco on the night of the championship game. Second chances had to be earned.
Students began filing out of their dorms and milling about in the common room now, and Harry quickly realized that his time for concentrating was over. He stacked his parchments neatly and sorted them into his book bag. Then he slowly dropped a portion of his Occlumency barrier and focused his mind on the familiar Unicorn fountain and his sweet Ginny. As the vision came into view, he saw her sleeping comfortably on a bed of feather pillows just out of reach of the droplets of water. He leaned over her and stroked her back gently, whispering in her ear, "I love you, Ginny; it's time to wake up."
She stretched and yawned and he smiled at her lovingly. Then he slowly pulled himself out of the dream. About ten minutes later, Ginny arrived in the common room, her uniform smartly in place and her hair still wet from a shower. He took her hand, kissed her cheek, and they left for the Great Hall together for breakfast. Normally they would have waited for Ron and Hermione, but today Harry needed to stop by the Headmaster's office to deliver the required materials for the investigation.
"Fizzing Wizzbees," Harry muttered, and the Gargoyle stepped out of his way. At the top of the stairs, Harry knocked lightly and then entered the office without waiting for a response, knowing Dumbledore was expecting him.
"Good morning, Harry, Ginny," the headmaster said as they entered.
"Good morning, sir," Harry responded as he placed his stack of parchment on the headmaster's desk.
"I hope you didn't stay up all night working on those," Dumbledore sighed.
"I did most of it this morning. I hope I've filled everything in properly. Has Professor Snape returned as planned, sir?"
"Yes, he sent up his prospectuses with a House Elf a few hours ago. He has always been quite the early riser."
"I trust his injuries have healed without complications, then?" Harry asked. He wasn't quite sure why he was so interested in Snape's health, of all things, but it had been bothering him all morning, along with his nerves about the investigation.
Something just wasn't right about all of this; he just couldn't place what it was. But then, anything coming from the Ministry of Magic of late was easily classified as bad news. The auror training laws they'd put into place had done more to tie up the department in red tape than to assist in the fight against Death Eater attacks, and the informants the Ministry was paying to find information on the whereabouts of Lord Voldemort and his followers (Death Eaters and Dark Creatures alike), had turned up nothing, proving to be a tremendous waste of public revenues. Harry was sure this investigation was to prove the same type of despicable faking of the fight that the other measures had been. But what could one expect from a Minister under the influence of an Imperious Curse controlled by Lucius Malfoy? If only Harry could get someone else to believe him about that. Dumbledore, and Harry's closest friends believed him, of course, but the rest of the wizarding world remained unaware, trusting a blinded man to lead them in the dark.
"Professor Snape seems to be in perfect health, Harry, as far as I can tell. Is there something troubling you about him?" Dumbledore broke into Harry's introspection.
"There is, sir, though I'm not sure what. Perhaps I will discover the reason when I attend his class later. I suppose I'm just nervous, though." Ginny gave Harry's hand an encouraging squeeze.
"Nervous, Harry?" Dumbledore inquired.
"Yes, sir, about the investigation, and especially about confronting Ms. Umbridge again," Harry glanced down at the words permanently inscribed on his left hand and sighed. "She's not my favorite witch in the world, you know."
"I must confess, she's not my favorite either," Dumbledore smiled, and his eyes twinkled merrily. "Good luck today, Harry. Whatever the results of Ms. Umbridge's investigation, keep in mind the opinion I expressed to you at your last meeting of Dumbledore's Army. You are a superb teacher, and it has been our honor to have you on our staff."
"Thank you, sir," Harry smiled wanly. "Your opinion means a great deal to me, though I do hope she will not find some way to prevent my teaching next term."
"As do I, Harry, but for now, all we can do is perform at our best and place our hope in the goodness of fate."
"Yes, sir," Harry bowed slightly, "I'll see you at breakfast then?"
"I should say so," Dumbledore nodded, "I'm thoroughly famished."
Harry chuckled happily as he left the headmaster's office, but his merriment was short lived. Approaching the Great Hall, the first person he came across was none other than the infamous Severus Snape, fully healed and in a rare bad humor. Harry supposed this investigation wasn't his idea of a welcoming party. Snape's scowl only deepened when he caught sight of Harry and Ginny.
"Isn't there some stipulation about staff members carrying on relationships with students?" Snape reproved them.
Harry narrowed his eyes to survey the cheerless man. There was something distinctly dark about him, an aura of anger, fear, and loathsomeness that seemed harsher than his previous encounters with his least favorite professor. Something about the man's countenance was disturbing.
"I imagine there is a loophole for staff members who are also still students," Harry responded guardedly. "Are you quite well, Professor Snape? You seem a bit off today."
"I assure you, Potter, I am in perfect form, not that your sympathy is at all my concern."
"Ah, of course, well, if you'll excuse us then, Ginny and I would like to go in and eat." The potion's master's scowl turned even darker, if that were possible, and Harry suppressed a shudder with some amount of difficulty. He was quite sure he would not have liked an Occlumency lesson with that man today.
Breakfast was rather uneventful, and all too soon Harry found himself walking Ginny to her first class of the day, Transfiguration, and kissing her goodbye. He descended to the dungeons with some measure of trepidation, his earlier conversation with the waiting professor still pressing in on his mind. Something was definitely off about Snape today. An odd phrase suddenly jumped into Harry's mind as he entered the Potions classroom. "…They will not even know you are gone from them until it is much too late to rectify the situation."
Harry could not suppress the shudder this time as a feeling of unparalleled dread spread through him. Neville seemed to be feeling equally distressed about Snape's return as he fiddled with his cauldron fire excessively, eventually burning his shirt sleeve. Snape seemed to take no notice of Neville's predicament until after Hermione managed to extinguish the blaze with a well placed water charm.
"What is going on back here?" Snape sneered as he looked down his hooked nose at the four Gryffindors. "Five points from Gryffindor, each, for making a ruckus in class." He turned and walked away then without a hint of concern for Neville's injured arm or soaking wet robes. Hermione cast a quick cooling charm on the arm and whispered her condolences to their now nearly hysterical classmate.
Class began and Harry noted that the handwriting with which Snape placed today's potion making directions on the board was ever so slightly different from its normal mien. The g's and y's curled too much underneath and the t's were crossed with a waving line rather than a straight one. Could this be a flourish Snape was using to dress up his teaching skills in the presence of the investigators? It seemed an odd change to make.
As the class period passed, Snape seemed bent on restoring the usual pallor of his dungeon environment, and Neville botched his potion so badly he had to be sent to the hospital wing to have the sticky film removed from his skin. He was not sent away, though, until he had been dealt a detention as well. Harry made a mental note to check up on Neville a few times over the course of the day.
Harry paced nervously as he waited for his own students to show up in Defense Against the Dark Arts. The investigators would be here by now, probably up in Dumbledore's office. Any minute now he might, or might not, see Umbridge's face peering up at him. He let Dumbledore's reassurances wash through his mind to combat his raging nerves and sighed heavily when he realized he could not remember what he had planned for today's lesson. He picked up his notes and reviewed one more time, only laying them down when the last of his second years had settled into their seats.
"Good morning, class," He began, "I have some very interesting experiments planned for our lesson today."
Class carried on smoothly from there until the first test of the Hogwarts alarm system was conducted. Startled by the noise, Brittany dropped her wand and the fire-barrier she had been producing deteriorated into a small ball of flame that left a scorch mark on the floor.
"Don't worry," Harry comforted the agitated class. "It's just a test of our alarm system, part of the Ministry's investigation. Did you all receive the notices that were handed out at breakfast?"
The students nodded their common response, but Harry still scowled slightly. "They might have forewarned us a moment ago with an announcement, though, wouldn't you say? We are likely to experience several such interruptions today until lunchtime. Now, let's see. Where were we? Oh yes, Brittany, would you like to try that fire shield one more time? And then Tristan, will you take the next turn?"
Class resumed and Harry deliberated that perhaps fire-repelling charms were not the best idea for today's lesson material. When the time came, he was quite grateful for the opportunity to wrap up the exercise and dismiss the students. His morning break with Ginny awaited. He stepped out of his classroom with visions of her lovely face dancing in his eyes, only to come face to face with doom itself.
"Ms. Umbridge," he gritted his teeth as he acknowledged her, "I can't tell you how… enchanting…it is to see you again."
"Mr. Potter," she simpered, "Just the person I had hoped to run into. I understand that you are assisting Professor Tonks in teaching our younger, more impressionable students. I trust you have maintained a standard of discipline and education befitting this marvelous institution?"
"I suppose you would have to ask the headmaster about that," Harry shrugged, and then feeling slightly rebellious he added, "Though his most recent appraisal included the words spectacular and phenomenal."
"He certainly spoke highly of you in our meeting this morning, though I am anxious to evaluate your performance myself. Percival, that is, Minister Weasley desires a complete report, you know."
"Yes, of course he does. He would not want to let his Master down, now would he? I'm sure all this information about Hogwarts' defenses will come in quite handy when Voldemort plans his attack. Make sure you include in that report that we will still have a few surprises up our sleeves, however thorough this investigation may or may not prove to be."
Umbridge widened her eyes and placed a hand on her heart in a vain attempt to look affronted. "Rest assured, Mr. Potter, the information obtained in this investigation will not pass beyond the hands and eyes of proper Ministry officials. Our aim is to protect this noble institution, not destroy it."
"Yes, there would be no need for it to go further, would there, Ms. Umbridge? As for protecting the school, that obligation, as always, will continue to fall upon the worthy and able shoulders of the headmaster, and I will be there to assist him. You can be sure of that." Without further comment, Harry side-stepped his former Defense teacher and continued on towards Gryffindor Tower. He wasn't sure what had made him say those things to Umbridge. And now that he thought about it, it may have been better to keep his suspicions to himself. But what was said was said, and there was no turning back now to undo it. Somehow, those words simply needed to be said.
Back in the common room, Harry found Ginny bent over some books and a stack of parchments, studying for her OWLs as usual. "Hey Gin, how was class?" he asked her as he sat beside her at the table.
"Snape was a monster! I think his trip to St. Mungo's gave him a renewed sense of nastiness somehow. He nearly made Colin fall off his chair with the insults he slung at him. And Colin's potion really wasn't all that bad. Maybe a slight tinge too dark of a green, but it was green anyway. How about you? How did teaching go?"
"Defense class was great until the alarm testing began. Poor Brittany Maddox dropped her wand. But that's nothing. Snape was nasty to us as well, and Neville ended up in the hospital wing, and then I ran into Umbridge on the way up here. Pleasantries all around, I must say!"
"Poor Harry," Ginny pouted playfully. "Did you have to speak to old toady? Or did she just pass by?"
"Do you really think a woman as spiteful and malicious as her would simply pass by me in the corridor without stopping to harangue me? But I pretty well told her where to hang her hat. How's the studying going?"
"I was just getting started. Want to quiz me?"
"Sure, what could be more enjoyable than an hour of drilling my favorite girl in…what's the subject matter today?"
"Potions," Ginny grunted.
"Oh, fabulous, just what I was hoping for," he teased, and he picked up a book from the stack on the table.
"All right, describe for me the proper brewing of the Dreamless Sleep Potion, its proper color and texture, and its effects on the drinker," Harry read from the book.
"The Dreamless Sleep Potion is made up of Nettle, lacewings, and …I can't remember what else, but it's supposed to be light blue when finished and it causes the drinker to sleep like a baby with no memory of a dream when he awakens."
"No memory when he awakens?" Harry asked looking up at Ginny suddenly, "You mean it actually erases the memory of a dream rather than stopping dreams from coming?"
"I think it's supposed to do both, actually," Ginny said, "Why?"
"Oh, no reason, it's just…" he didn't want to start worrying her over nothing now. "Pomfrey gave me some of that stuff yesterday morning and I could have sworn I actually had some sort of dream, but I can't really remember it now. I'm sure it was nothing, though, just a silly dream that's been erased by the potion if it was ever there at all."
"Some of your dreams are anything but silly, Harry," Ginny countered.
"Yeah, but if it were really important, I'm sure I would remember. All right, next question…"
Harry continued to quiz Ginny for the rest of their hour and then they went down for lunch. A small table had been set up to the right of the teachers' table at the front of the Great Hall and there was a group of witches and wizards around it wearing official looking blazers with gold colored metal name tags. Harry spotted a black-fly hair bow atop a low-seated curly fringe and promptly turned away from the offensive sight only to inadvertently catch the eye of a rather sour looking Professor Snape. Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry as though trying to deduce just what offense might give him the off chance of landing him in detention, but apparently coming up short, simply turned up his hooked nose and continued with whatever conversation he'd been having with Professor Sinistra.
"This is going to be a very long week," Harry complained to Ginny as they reached their seats.
"I agree. The atmosphere around here is decidedly melancholy. Do you think Fred and George would come for a visit if I asked them?"
"With Umbridge here, I would highly doubt it, although I wouldn't say no to a crate of their Filibuster Fireworks just now."
"What a terrific waste of valuable class time," Hermione announced to no one in particular. "I should be in Arithmancy now and here I am, standing in the common room with nothing to do but wait until that old toad is satisfied."
It was two o' clock in the afternoon on Tuesday and the second "Student Awareness Drill" of the day was underway. The first had come as expected at 9:00am, but Umbridge and her associates had expressed their collective disapproval of the speed with which students had moved from the places where they'd been stationed out on the grounds into their house common rooms. So they had insisted on a repeat performance and had refused to divulge the time of day when it would be performed because, "Students will not be forewarned when it's a real dark wizard or creature attacking the school." Professor Trelawney had taken a slight offense to that, but just the same, the second drill had been administered without forewarning. This meant that some students were already inside the school when the alarm was set off, and Harry silently prayed that the investigators would not take issue with that, since the same was also likely to be true during an actual attack.
The last of the Gryffindor students filed in through the portrait hole, their hands pressed over their ears because the noise from the alarm was deafening in the corridors. A few minutes later the alarm fell silent, signaling that all students had in fact now returned to their common rooms. Harry sighed with some measure of relief, both for the absence of the irritating noise, and because the time factor of this drill had been considerably shorter.
A few moments later, Umbridge herself stepped in through the portrait hole and scanned the room with her protuberant eyes. A wide smile spread across her face before she sweetly called out, "Prefects, please bring me your head counts. We must be certain that everyone is here."
The head count was overkill, in Harry's view, since the alarm was charmed to keep ringing until every student had returned to their own common room and fooling it would have required the kind of skill that fooling the Triwizard Cup had taken. But then, someone had indeed succeeded at that, though not a student.
Truthfully, Harry wondered what use Umbridge might have for a headcount of each house's student body. Was she gauging the odds of victory, putting together an approximation of how many students the Death Eaters might have to battle with for a complete takeover? Or was this all for show, part of the "faking of the fight"? He shook his head, 'Perhaps I'm just being paranoid,' he thought to himself. Hermione went around and collected slips of parchment from all of the prefects and held them out to Umbridge. The self proclaimed investigator took them, a look of revulsion on her wide face, and, after stuffing the parchments into her handbag, proceeded to pull out a handkerchief and wipe her hands with it. Harry frowned darkly, and Ron's fists were clenched tightly, a vein in his neck beginning to bulge.
"I would like to take this opportunity," Umbridge smiled her sweetest smile, "to inform each of you of an important new safety measure the Ministry has placed into effect just this week."
An odd cooling sensation began to flow from the amulet Draco had given to Harry.
"In light of the recent attack on this school, as well as other attacks around the country, the Ministry has doubled its efforts to keep the Magical community safe. Aurors have been placed on alert, and a new spell has been developed to allow a witch or wizard who believes him or herself to be under attack to contact the Aurors directly. Simply raise your wand above your head and call out, 'Aggravare Informare,' and an Auror will be dispatched to the location of your wand."
"That's ridiculous," Harry blurted out, not thinking. He really didn't want any attention from this woman just now.
"Excuse me, Mr. Potter?" Umbridge turned to observe him coolly. "Did you wish to say something?" Her tone was demeaning, deliberately condescending, and Harry couldn't help but take the bait.
"Yes, Ma'am," he said, "Voldemort and his Death Eaters," Umbridge went slightly pale at the mention of the Dark Lord's name, and several students drew in apprehensive breaths, "are not going to wait around for their victims to call in Aurors. Even if someone were to manage to use that spell and call an Auror, they'd just disarm him and leave the wand behind. It's a waste of time and public revenues, and it'll stretch the Aurors so thin they won't be able to function."
"Are you suggesting, Mr. Potter, that you know better than the Minister of Magic how to protect the wizarding community?" Umbridge turned up her nose. "Perhaps you fancy yourself the next Minister?" She chuckled to herself, reveling in her little joke.
Harry seethed with fury as he took in her haughty stance. "I am suggesting that this so called 'safety measure' is nothing but another way to keep the people of the community pacified while deliberately sabotaging the Aurors' efforts to locate and detain those who carry out these attacks." He knew he should stop there, but the next words just flowed out of him, like fire from a dragon's nostrils. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were working for Voldemort yourself, giving him as much of a free hand as possible while keeping good witches and wizards everywhere unaware and under-protected."
Umbridge's eyes flashed dangerously and her appearance suddenly seemed less like a toad and more like an overfed cobra, preparing to strike as she raised herself to her tallest height and puffed out her chest slightly. Then, just as suddenly, she composed herself again and smiled as sweetly as ever. "You have always been such an imaginative child, Mr. Potter. But as a member of the staff here at Hogwarts, I would have expected you to have matured a bit more. I shall have to speak to Dumbledore about your appointment. Frightening the students with such sensationalism simply will not do, Mr. Potter." She turned on her heal then, and pushed her way out of the portrait hole, and Harry stared after her angrily. He knew better than to think Dumbledore would listen to anything she had to say. But her insults still infuriated him.