For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

11 – Classes, Week Eleven, Second Year
Thursday, November 11, 1999:
Hogwarts, Entrance hall: 12:11
"…So, we're all standing around outside the staff room, and I can't go through the door because of the bloody charm," Mattie said. "My people aren't going to go in without me, Fred Weasley is looking embarrassed, so I clear my throat, and say, 'Miss McGonagall? The charm?' and she ignores me."

"Not the brightest thing to do," Amanda said as she loosened her winter cloak. Arthur snorted agreement.

"I figure maybe she didn't hear me, so I wait a minute or so, Dumbledore is sitting there looking right at me with this little half-smile on his face," Mattie continued. "I'm thinking this may be some sort of weird etiquette thing, so I clear my throat again. McGonagall gets this little half-smile, like Dumbledore, but continues to sort through her papers. At this point, it's clear even to me they're ignoring me, so I take a couple steps to the left and do 'Stan Dividere' on the wall."

"How'd they like that?" Charlie asked.

"Shocked the hell out of them," Mattie grinned. She paused to dig the fragment out of her bag, passing it to Arthur, "Souvenir, thanks for finding the spell. Anyway, at that point, I was tempted to do some sort of dramatic announcement, like 'you need me more than I need you, go ahead and close the school!' kinda thing."

"No! You wouldn't!" Andrew gasped, and Mattie grinned.

"Would I do that to my friends? Na, thinking on it later, I decided that they've been on top in these situations so much they're not used to being the supplicant." Mattie grinned again, "I also knew exactly what they were spending where. So I toss that fragment on the table, sit down cool and collected, and start to introduce people."

"Why toss the fragment on the table?" one of the twins wanted to know.

"Business psychology, the same reason Dad keeps a collection of weapons in his office," Mattie explained. "It intimidates people on a subconscious level. The HR manager used to keep a hatchet buried in a block of wood…" The double doors banged open, a man shouting, "Nobody move! I'm Deputy Minister Edward Hansen, from the Ministry! For your own safety, we're taking the three werewolves into protective custody! Co-operate and no one will be hurt!"

Mattie glanced at Sprink, then at Charlie and Arthur. Pushing through the crowd as they hurried her away, she called "Minister Fudge is a cowardly arse!"

Hansen sneered, "Wayne. It figures you'd be the troublemaker here. Run off to class, little girl."

"Oh, I'm a little girl now? Tell me, Deputy Minister Buttlicker Arsewipe, is Fudge's arse still soft for your tongue, or has he had to switch bog papers with his budget crunch?" Hansen's face turned red, as Mattie continued, "Last year I was a dangerous assassin, now I'm an innocent little girl. Get it straight, you stupid twit. If Fudge wants my friends, asshole, he's going to have to go through me first," she sneered, "Of course, Fudgie is too much of a bloody coward to show his face. Don't you get tired of his hiding behind your robes, you bootlicking arsewipe?"

"You don't know what you're talking about, little girl," he sneered. They both spun when one of the DMLE thugs called, "Here's one!" as he grabbed Amy Johnson, portkeying out.

"You managed to kidnap a little girl, asshole," Mattie taunted as student wands were drawn. "Congratulations. The odds were only eight to one, but that's considered high odds for you dunderheads. Tell me; is that justice under the Fudge ministry, torture and imprisonment of children for political gain? Is the rule of law for sale, or just for rent?" She saw his fingers twitch toward his wand, adding, "Go ahead, bootlicker. Draw on a 'little girl'. You don't have the balls." Mattie stood, arms outstretched, ten feet away from Hansen, adding, "Here I am, arselicker, I'm not hiding behind someone's robes!"

Hansen growled, "You asked for it, Wayne! Stupefy!" Mattie danced out of the way as a DMLE thug stunned Jeremy, calling, "Here's another, the male!" as he portkeyed out.

A dungbomb went off in the middle of the DMLE group, as Mattie called, "You missed, Hansen! How can you miss from ten feet? Let me try: 'tarantellegra'!"

"I've had it with you, Wayne! 'Stupefy'!" She dodged again, and he screamed, "Stand still!"

"Why, so you can kidnap me again? Do I look that stupid?" Mattie asked. A spell zipped in from the crowd, Hansen flipping upside down and screaming in rage. Mattie moved to stand in front of him, and spat in his face.

The spell holding him upside down was cancelled, Hansen climbing shakily to his feet. Mattie stood, three feet away, and made a rude gesture. "Pass that on to Fudgie, would you, arselicker? Thanks," she turned and casually strolled away.

"'Incarcerous'!" Hansen screamed. Ropes spun out of his wand, hitting Mattie. She pulled out a knife and started cutting, when someone said, "'Finite Incantatem'."

"Thanks," Mattie said. Calling to the smirking Hansen, "So, you can only attack from the back. It's what I would expect from Fudge and his arselickers. Very honorable. You'll notice I'm facing you, bootlicker. 'Everte Statum'."

Hansen flew backward, slamming into the stone wall. "Wayne, I have one word for you," Hansen said, slowly raising his wand. "Cruc…" a small sharp stone came flying in, hitting his right shoulder near the carotid artery; he screamed and dropped his wand.

Mattie called, "Thanks, whoever did that. Now it's my turn to play, you naughty, naughty, arselicker. It's a traditional one for my house: 'Serpensortia maxima'!"

A huge king cobra materialized, sliding toward Hansen. The students screamed and vanished as the snake's crest flared, its mouth opened, venom dripping from its fangs. One of his thugs blasted the snake, as Hansen called, "Search the castle! The last one's here somewhere!" He clutched his bloody shoulder and staggered off toward the stairs.

While Mattie insulted Hansen, Ginny slipped through a hidden corridor, emerging outside the Slytherin dorms. She rushed down to the dorm her parents were in, telling them, "Ministry raid! I've got to transfigure you two into firsties!"

"All right, dear," Molly said, adding to her husband, "Follow my lead."

"An' jus' where d'ye think y' gai'n, lad?" Hagrid asked the DMLE thug. "T'ain't nae wee 'wolves in Gryffindor t'wer. I'm th' Dang'ous C'tures p'fessor, I'd knae aboot any."

"This is an official search, authorized by Deputy Minister Hansen!"

"I dinnae care if Fudge flew u' here on a' dragon wearin' a pink dress!" Hagrid said, and the Fat Lady sniffed in her portrait. "Sorry," he said over his shoulder to her. "Tha' ain't nae 'wolves in Gryffindor! Nae, bugger off."

"But you have searched…" the calm voice of Harry Potter said, locking eyes with the thug. "You've searched all of Gryffindor tower, and the sixth and seventh floors. You haven't found a thing; you're going to report this to the Deputy Minister…"

"…I'm going to report this to the Deputy Minister…"

"That's right. You haven't found anything, your information is in error…"

"…My information is in error…"

"You need to report to the Deputy Minister straight away…"

"…Straight away…" Harry stepped back, and snapped his fingers. The thug shook himself; then nodded politely. "Thank you for your co-operation. I must report straightaway."

Harry and Hagrid smiled, and moved out of his way. They watched him go, then Hagrid leaned over, "Think it worked?"

Harry sighed, "I don't know. I'm going down to Hufflepuff to see if Miss Wayne needs help. Can you check the Ravenclaws?"

Surrounded by a green glow, Mattie watched, sweat dripping off her face as two DMLE thugs walked in place, opening invisible cupboards and trunks, yanking open invisible bed hangings, and pulling open doors. Professor Harry entered, Mattie's eyes flicking to him, as the two thugs turned as well. She forced her eyes back, and they resumed their invisible search as the Hufflepuffs watched; wands ready.
"Just where do you think you are going?" the icy voice of the Potions Master inquired.

"Searchin' for the werewolf," the braver of the two replied. He remembered classes with Professor Snape. "Our information is that she's in Slytherin."

"I see," the Potion Master replied. "If your information is true, then you will also have the password for the Common Room, Mr. Miller. Yes, I quite remember you and Mr. Shultz as well. Failed your Potions OWLS, the both of you," he sneered. Waving, he stepped aside, adding, "It is a common phrase in parseltongue. You should not have any problems."

"But… we don't speak parseltongue!" Shultz protested.

"Failed at inter-house relations, too," Professor Snape sighed. "Didn't you dunderheads learn anything in your time here?" He turned and hissed at the statue, which obediently slid aside as he commented, "Members of the Snake's Den speak parseltongue, Mr. Shultz. I suggest remedial studies."

The two nervous thugs entered, Professor Snape announcing to the students in the common room, "These two…gentlemen… are from the Ministry. Unfortunately, they do not speak parseltongue, so please assist them in English. They believe we are harbouring a werewolf in our midst. Please assist them in searching for such a dangerous creature." He moved to the side, crossing his arms as the students started to hiss at each other as they glowered, fingering wands. They moved down the stairs leading to the dorms, where after a minute, a piercing scream echoed up the stairwell. Professor Snape was down the stairs in an instant, his shout echoing, "These two girls are clearly NOT your alleged werewolf, you fools! Didn't your mothers teach you thickheaded dunderheads to knock before entering a room?"

The two DMLE thugs left the Hufflepuff common room, where Mattie collapsed. Eleanor reached her first, helping the Slytherin into a chair, and asking, "What did they see?"

"Exactly what I wanted them to see," Mattie said, nodding her thanks for a glass of water. "They searched every space in every dorm that someone could hide, and found nothing. Well, I should say, in the older boy's dorms, they did find some copies of Playwizard." Eleanor smirked as Mattie heaved herself out of the chair. "I've got to get to Ravenclaw."

"Professor Harry said he'll take care of them, and Hagrid took care of the Gryffs," Eleanor said. "Sprink's in the second-year boy's dorm if you want to check on her."

"Thanks, although I'd love to see what Professor Snape does to these idiots."

Eleanor put out her hand, "Wayne. You know I'm muggleborn?" Mattie nodded, and Eleanor asked, "I watch telly; I recognized the green glow you were using. Where'd you get a Green Lantern power ring?"

Mattie sighed, slumping back into the chair. She raised her right hand, displaying the ring, "My brother got it for me after Fudge kidnapped me last year, and I really wish he hadn't." She glanced at Eleanor, adding, "Don't ask how he got it, please. I don't want it, I don't dare leave it anywhere and I can't trust anyone with something like this. This is really the first time I've used it, keeping those two seeing what I wanted them to. Got any suggestions?"

Eleanor sat back, "You're in a box, all right. I can see why he got it, but what you do with the bloody thing…" She glanced at the ring, "Sorry, all I can think of is Quidditch. What are your plans?"

"Professor Snape wants me to surrender it before the game. I think that would be the ethical thing, if I can't figure out how to turn it off." Mattie got a glazed look; then shook her head. "The ring just told me how," her brow scrunched, then she gave the ring to Eleanor. "Put it on and try to command it. Will something to happen."

She slowly slid it on her finger, saying, "What do I do?"

"Try… try willing that chair to move," Mattie suggested. Eleanor pointed her fist at the chair, scrunching up her face; shaking her head, "Nothing." She reluctantly took it off, handing it back to Mattie.

Mattie slid it on her finger again, scrunched her face, then pointed her fist, a thin green beam shot out of the ring, lifting the chair and moving it across the common room, then gently setting it back down. "Wow."

"Wow indeed."

"Mr. Hansen, how good to see you," Minerva McGonagall said. "Have you come regarding Felicia?"

Hansen blinked, his shoulder bandaged, "What are you still doing here?"

"Oh, I'm much too busy to take a holiday now," Minerva said, addressing the statue, "Puking Pastilles." She motioned to the Deputy Minister, who preceded her up the stairs.

"Edward! How good of you to drop by!" the Headmaster called. "Would you care for a lemon drop?" Minerva smirked behind his back.

"Did you find her?" Edward Hansen asked.

"Not in Gryffindor," one said. "I searched the tower, and the sixth and seventh floors, and found nothing."

"Nothing in Hufflepuff," another said. "We kept within sight of each other; the only thing we found was last month's issue of Playwizard."

"I searched Ravenclaw, and didn't find anything but textbooks," one said. "They have no social life; I didn't even find a copy of Playwizard!"

"The only thing we learned in Slytherin is that they all speak parseltongue," the last said. "That; and they're really creepy. They kept hissing at us, I thought they were going to throw curses at any time."

"I'm not surprised," Hansen said. "That's where You-Know-Who came from, they're all probably Death Eaters. It's a good thing you got out alive." He sighed, adding, "At least we got two of them. Let's get back to London."

Thursday, November 11, 1999:
London, DMLE holding cells: 17:11
"Where is she? Where is the last of you filthy mongrels?" the interrogator demanded of Amy Johnson, chained by the neck in the small stone cell. He backhanded her, "We know there are three of you! Save yourself some pain!"

"Pain? You have no idea what pain is like!" she spat.

The interrogator stepped back, slamming the cell closed. "You'll be singing a different tune in Azkaban, little girl." He walked off as Amy shivered in her school uniform.

Jeremy waited a minute; then said, "I didn't really believe it last year, when I heard about what Wayne went through. Now…"

"Yeah," Amy said. "You really attack that arse Wayne was insulting?"

"I was going to," he sighed, then asked, "Can you transform? For the fur?"

"I tried earlier, there's some sort of blocking spell," she said, and shivered, raising her manacled hands. "Do you think they'll feed us?"

"From what Wayne reported, a stale half scone and a small tin of water every other day," Jeremy said. He yanked at the thick chains on his wrists and ankles, "All we can do is wait."

Amy's teeth chattered, "For how long?"

Friday, November 12, 1999:
London, Ministry of Magic, Minister's office: 07:11
"Ah, the man of the hour!" Cornelius Fudge called, asking, "Edward, what happened to your shoulder?"

"Wayne happened," Hansen spat. "She interfered and I found myself dueling her in the Entrance Hall."

"Ah, well you had eight DMLE assistants with you," Fudge chortled. "I assume congratulations on her death are in order," Edward shook his head, "Severe injury? She's in St. Mungo's?" Hansen shook his head again, "Injured… at all?" Another head shake, and Fudge asked, "She wasn't injured at all? She must have been across the hall, then, under cover."

Hansen swallowed hard, and shook his head, "She was…three feet away," he mumbled.

"Did you say she was three feet away, and you couldn't hit her with a single curse?" Fudge asked in astonishment. Hansen nodded, Fudge looked at him and repeated, "She was closer to you than I am, and you couldn't even hit her with a stunner?"

"She kept MOVING!" Hansen yelled. "She's like a bloody Snitch! And then she turned, and made this…gesture, and…"

Fudge stood, shouting, "You couldn't hit a little girl IN THE BACK from THREE FEET with a stunner, or a body bind, or even 'Avada'? Did anything go right?"

"We managed to get two of the three werewolves; they're in the special animagus cells now. The third slipped through our fingers however, despite a thorough search for her."

"A thorough search," Fudge sneered. "Tell me, Edward, did the two you did manage to capture put up a fierce resistance? No doubt many of your squad were injured or killed in their capture."

"Err, not exactly," Hansen admitted. "They were just…standing there. We grabbed them and portkeyed them out."

"Edward, Edward," Fudge said, shaking his head. "I give you a very simple assignment, one that you had suggested. You were to go to Hogwarts, arrest these three werewolves, and if you had the chance, you were to kill Wayne." He sighed, "Perhaps I should give the contract on Wayne to Weasley, now that he's finally gotten the backbone to kill. Not only do you fail on this extremely simple assignment, even with sufficient force from DMLE, but you fail to remove one of our three main enemies. She's not Dumbledore, Edward, or even Potter. Wayne's a second year Hogwarts student; she shouldn't have taken more than a twitch of your wand." Fudge sighed, "Well, I'm sure they'll root out this dangerous werewolf themselves, so it can be properly disposed of," Fudge said. "Let them think she's hidden. Keep a proper eye on Hogwarts and she'll turn up. When she does, we can get all of them," he added as he turned to face Hansen. "The core of our enemies are at Hogwarts. Dumbledore, Potter, and Wayne." Fudge sat back in his chair, musing, "Perhaps we should have Weasley take them out. Killing off his parents seems to finally have given him some backbone."

Friday, November 12, 1999:
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 08:11
"Professor Dumbledore, what's being done to rescue Amy and Jeremy?" Harry Spencer called as the headmaster entered the Great Hall.

"We are studying the problem, and will effect a rescue in due time, Mr. Spencer."

"That's not good enough!" someone called from Hufflepuff.

"These are our mates!" someone else from Ravenclaw called. "They could be dead by now!

"We have not yet had a report from our spies in the Ministry," the headmaster said, and Felicia Hansen smirked. "We need information before we can formulate a plan. Now, I think it best that you all move off to class." Grumbling, students started to leave the Great Hall. Albus sat down, Harry leaning forward, "What exactly are your plans, Albus?"

Friday, November 12, 1999:
Hogwarts, Charms class: 08:16
The second-years stood outside the Charms class, waiting for Professor Flitwick. Sprink broke the silence, "What do we do about Amy and Jeremy?"

"We've got to go after them, that's what they'd do for us," Charlie said.

"I don't even know where the Ministry is, or where they are," Mattie said. "I know it's in London somewhere, but that's it." She sighed, "The headmaster's right, we need information first."

"I never thought you'd give up, Wayne," Andrew said.

Mattie turned in response, "What do you want me to do? I don't know where they are, or what condition they're in. If we invade the wrong place, it won't do them any good, and it might get us killed."

"Last year, it took a while before we found Mattie," Sprink said. "We knew where she was, but not where Azkaban was. Once we knew, Professor McGonagall could sneak in with her mum and rescue her. Th' professor said both my animal form and Professor Harry's were too big." She turned red, covering her mouth, "I shouldn't have said that about Professor Harry!"

Friday, November 12, 1999:
Hogwarts, DADA class: 08:21
Professor Harry arrived to find his first-year class waiting for him. Waving his hand, he unlocked the door, following them in. Throwing his robes across a chair, he said, "Well, since we've got a bit of time before class officially starts, I'm sure that you want to discuss the kidnapping of two students yesterday."

"Too bloody right!" Daphne said. "I saw what Wayne did in our common room, what about the other houses?"

"Professor Snape convinced them we all spoke parseltongue, and browbeat them until they left," Jeremy said, "What did Wayne do?"

"She convinced them they searched the dorms and didn't find anything, when all those two louts actually did was march about in the common room," Stephanie said.

"Professor Harry, what did you do?" Hartley asked.

Harry grinned, "I took a page from Wayne's book, all your bloke found was textbooks. Not even a copy of Playwizard or Witch Weekly." He grinned, adding, "All you Ravenclaws do is study, you're so boring."

"I'll agree with that," Jeremy said, and Louis threw a quill at him. He grinned, and threw it back.

Professor Harry cleared his throat, grinning, "I think we're all just a bit tired of Mr. Fudge's Ministry. Unfortunately, the Wizengamot has to move a vote of no confidence by two-thirds before he can be removed, and he's got that many in his pocket. So, last year on the train, I was sitting with a group of Yanks, they drew up this little manifesto." He raised his hand, "I'm not asking anyone to do more than read it, and since you're all underage, you can't sign it. I'd appreciate it if someone would post a copy in each common room." He started to pass sheets of parchment back:

Declaration of Separation

We, the undersigned wizarding population of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, do hereby state our intentions. Given that the current Ministry of Magic under Cornelius Oswald Fudge has amply demonstrated their complete corruption, and lack of regard for the rule of law, as well as regard of ordinary witches and wizards, we do declare:

1. We no longer consider ourselves bound by the laws, rulings and dictates of the British Ministry of Magic.

2. We will no longer pay taxes to the British Ministry of Magic.

3. We will observe the muggle laws of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

4. We request and require the muggle government of Great Britain and Northern Ireland to provide appropriate governmental services (defense, fire, police, etc.).

5. We will pay normal muggle taxation rates to the government of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

6. We will observe the Convention on International Wizarding Secrecy.

7. We will observe the Conventions on underage magic use.

8. We will observe the age of muggle majority (16) to be the age of consent.

9. We will observe full civil rights to those currently denied them, such as giants, werewolves, vampires and vela.

10. Those persons considered 'dangerous' (giants, werewolves, vampires and vela) will act appropriately to ensure their safety and those around them. This will include appropriate potions and self-confinement as necessary.

11. In order to eliminate the dictatorial power of the office of the Minister of Magic, we call for a unicameral, at-large wizarding Parliament of one hundred members. Such a parliament may pass and revoke legislation using a simple majority (51 votes or greater).

12. A separate judiciary is called for, independent of the authority of the Minister of Magic. A single, randomly chosen magistrate for misdemeanor offenses and a randomly chosen three-judge panel for felony offenses are requested.

13. Court-appointed and paid solicitors will be made available to indigent defendants.

14. All other laws, proclamations and edicts enacted by the Fudge Ministry are considered null and void.

If you agree with the above declaration, and will abide by its provisions, please tap your wand below. All copies will be magically updated. Ages sixteen and over only, please.

Signed,

The committee on reform of the Ministry of Magic.

Daphne said, "This needs to be posted in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley."

"It is," Professor Harry said, "Look at the bottom." The names Ginevra Potter, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Ronald Weasley and Ian MacDonald appeared. A few seconds later, Lee Jordan and Aberforth Dumbledore appeared. Professor Harry raised his hand, adding, "Please be aware that when people sign it, that action can be considered treason against the Fudge Ministry. They're risking a Dementors' Kiss."

"What's life without risk?" Daphne said, "Bloody hell, who's Elizabeth Spencer?" Professor Harry simply pointed to the photo of the Queen on the wall, adding, "Hogwarts, class of 1945."

'Catriona McCormack' and 'Meghan McCormack' appeared, Professor Harry saying, "Oh, it's gone down the Alley to Quality Quidditch. 'Celestina Warbeck' appeared next, followed by 'Kirley McCormack', 'Remus J. Lupin', 'Alastair Moody' and 'Alice Longbottom'. Professor Harry leaned forward to tap Lee's copy with his forefinger, 'Harry James Potter', 'Orsino Thruston' and 'Tracey Davis' appearing next.

"Well, we can't sit here and watch parchment all day," Professor Harry said. "We've still got time before class starts, how would you rescue Amy and Jeremy?"

Saturday, November 13, 1999:
London, DMLE holding cells: 21:01
"Evening, gents," the older fellow said. "Name's John Perkins. Ministry called me out of retirement to give you boys a hand." He scratched an itch as he handed over a letter and an old weatherbeaten ID card.

"Why'd you retire?" the sergeant asked as Perkins lowered himself to a chair.

Perkins grunted, pulling up a trouser leg to display a wooden leg. "Got that in the war, sonny, the one with Grindelwald." He pulled out a flask, taking a belt; then holding it up in offer. He coughed; then thumped his chest.

"What's in the flask?" the sergeant asked.

"Ain't pumpkin juice," Perkins smirked, "'Tis my medicine."

The sergeant sniffed the flask, "That's firewhisky!" One of the other guards called, "Take it easy, the old duffer's earned a few belts now and again."

"All right, but not too much, now. We've got a lot of dangerous criminals here."

"Well, let's see 'em!" Perkins said, thumping his walking stick. He slowly levered himself up, when the sergeant said, "Wait. How do we know you're not a werewolf?"

"Twit," Perkins said. He opened the collar of his robes, saying, "St. Christopher medal. Solid silver; got it from a muggle I knew in the war. Throw me a sickle."

"Why?"

"They're silver, you idiot! Werewolves can't abide silver, remember?" Someone tossed him a coin, and it lay on his open palm for everyone to see. Perkins flipped it back, "Answer your question?"

"So these are the dangerous werewolves," Perkins said. "Don't look so dangerous to me. Look like children left out in the cold." He poked Amy with his walking stick, "How old are you, girl?"

"F…fif…fifteen in January," she answered with chattering teeth. Perkins grunted, asking, "What about you, son?"

"S…seventeen in April," Jeremy replied.

"Fifteen, seventeen. Yep, these are dangerous creatures, all right," Perkins snorted. "What they charged with?"

"Protective custody, for now."

"Doin' a helluva job of 'protectin' in my opinion," Perkins said. "Well, go ahead, open up!" He motioned at the cell doors, "I ain't gonna release 'em. You kill 'em or torture them on your watch, but for me, I wouldn't want my grandkids treated like that." He waved his flask, "Firewhisky, boy. Warm you up inside. You plannin' on attackin' me?"

"N…no, sir."

"Good. Open up." He waggled the flask at Amy, "Get you in a minute, darlin'."