Chapter 17: COMEUPPANCE
Harry had barely taken two steps down the spiral staircase, carrying parchment, his phoenix-feather quill and ink bottle hand when Ron nearly knocked the ink out of his hand.
"Oh, hello, Harry," he said.
"Watch it, hey?"
"Oh, doing your homework now, are you?" said Ron, smirking.
"I got a letter from Sirius," Harry told Ron, pausing for a second to ponder whether he should tell Ron about the other letter, "and one from Cho. You can read Sirius' but you're off your rocker if you think I'm going to show you Cho's," he said, turning slightly pink around the ears. "Come, you can read it while I'm doing this stupid essay."
Harry led Ron back up to his dormitory, hastily shoved Cho's letter into some part of his bedside cabinet while Ron wasn't looking and handed him the letter from Sirius. The two of them went back down into the common room, taking a seat by a table, ignoring one first year girl hurriedly walking away at the sight of Raides entering from the portrait hole. Raides rolled her eyes, spotted Harry and Ron and settled herself at their feet.
While Harry was doing his homework, Ron told Raides about Sirius' letter.
"Finish it and give it here!" she said quietly and feverishly.
"What are you so interested in what Sirius has to say?" said Harry, generally curious.
"I just like him. He has that sarcastic sense of humor you've come to know and love that I have, too," she said, her golden head contorted in a very toothy grin.
Harry rolled his eyes and stared at his last sentence: "A strong reason for not wanting to Disapparate more than usual would be because of the unpleasant phenomenon of splinching." He recalled how he had gotten splinched and how he didn't want to repeat the experience...
"How long is yours?" Harry asked, turning to Ron.
"I don't remember," Ron replied, not taking his eyes off Sirius' letter, only half listening to Harry. "Hermione was going on about how her's was four pages and couldn't possibly see how we only had to write two. What can there possibly be so much to write about? Splinching, that's it. And after seeing it happen to you, I certainly don't want it to happen to me."
"Thanks, Ron," said Harry, glaring at him.
"Sorry," Ron muttered.
Brushing off his slight displeasure with Ron -- because it certainly wouldn't help to stay angry -- he went back to writing but was quite stuck on what to write next.
Then, after a minute, the next sentence came to him ("After a certain personal experience with splinching, it is easily the most compelling reason to not abuse Disapparation by using it more often than is necessary").
Ron had probably read the letter three times over before he tapped Harry on the arm.
"This is some pretty heavy stuff," he said sounding very serious. "Do they really think Voldemort's no longer immortal? That another Killing Curse will finish him off?"
"I just hope so," said Harry.
"C'mon, Ron," said Raides, "fork it over."
"You can read?" Ron asked blankly.
"Yes! Now drop it so I can look at it."
Ron did as he was told and Raides shifted the pieces of parchment with her paw. Ginny ambled over to ask what was going on. Upon remembering what Dumbledore had told Harry, Ron and Hermione about the Order of the Phoenix, Ron couldn't tell Ginny as Dumbledore had told them to not mention to anyone else about it. Since the letter mentioned it... She got pushy and Ron told her to "bugger off." Folding her arms, she finally went back to a few Gryffindor sixth years.
"So they're going to try to kill him then?" said Ron, making sure he had read correctly.
"Yes," said Raides, having had just finished reading and looking up at Ron. "And close your mouth, I read fast," she added irritably.
"Just as long as it doesn't involve me but then they bring me to look at his dead and decaying body," said Harry, longing for the moment.
While Raides and Ron discussed the finer points of Thantanos, the Mark of Ancients and Michelle crying herself hoarse over Harry, Harry himself tried to continue his essay but found that he simply couldn't. He should have finished eating.
He looked at his gold wristwatch and saw that dinner had, unfortunately, just ended. Harry put his phoenix-feather quill in the ink well, slouched back in his chair, folded his arms and sighed. There was no denying it: he was hungry. Dennis Creevey was finishing up a Chocolate Frog and James Griffith, a sixth year with an appearance very closely resembling Harry's father (both of them had untidy black hair and glasses) had a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans out.
Harry's stomach made a grumble and he was sure it wasn't because he missed Cho. He would have been able to get something to eat, but his cloak was missing. He voiced this to Ron.
"Harry, you have me, and you can still Apparate around the castle until after your next Paladism class," Raides reminded him. "For God's sake, Disapparate to the kitchens and get yourself something. I'm sure Dobby and friends would be glad to ablidge."
But suddenly, Harry was reminded of something else. Ron stared for a moment, trying to figure it out because this realization showed on Harry's face. Then, just as suddenly, Ron broke out trying to find the words to stop Harry.
"Harry, no!" he hissed. "That's just the thing Dumbledore doesn't want you doing! You're not Disapparating into the Slytherin common room! Let Dumbledore handle it!"
Harry smirked at him.
"I'm just going to get myself something to eat and then get my cloak back," he said innocently. "What's the harm?"
"What's the harm?" Ron continued hissing and trying to sound as much like Hermione as he could possibly be. "I'll tell you what the harm is, you're going to get detention. And lots of it! Hermione!" he added, watching her enter through the portait hole.
"Hello, Ron --"
"I was just telling Harry here why he shouldn't use Raides to Disapparate to the Slytherin common room to steal his dad's cloak back," Ron hissed urgently at her, pulling Hermione by the arm over to Harry.
Hermione's face changed from a smile to one so much resembling Professor McGonagall's hideous stare that it was frightening. Her lips went so thin Harry could swear she had put an Invisibility Cloak on them.
Harry stood up, defying both of them. Raides, to Harry's relief and Ron and Hermione's disgust, was completely indifferent.
"C'mon, Raides," said Harry. "We have some food to get and a cloak to steal," he added in an undertone to her.
She crawled out from under the table, leapt up, becoming surrounded in misty gray smoked and emerged the seven foot long Staff of Cybele, complete with golden fur and scarlet crystal. People were obviously not used to this yet and many Gryffindors stared. Harry caught the staff by the middle when the smoke disappeared.
He held her at his side, the staff towering a few feet over his head, and, in the middle of the Gryffindor common room, Disapparated with a pop to the Hogwarts kitchens, startling the hundred or so house-elves in the process.
When their shock of someone Disapparating wore off, they stared at the Staff of Cybele which had just turned back into a seven foot long lion.
"What," said Raides in a hoarse, irritated voice.
"Harry Potter!" squealed an elf with bulging green tennis ball-sized eyes and large bat-like ears.
"Hello, Dobby," said Harry as the elf grabbed him around the mid riff.
"We house elves has heard about the Staff of Cybele, sir," said Dobby, still staring at it, "but Dobby never knew that the staff would let a human Disapparate, totally ignoring the magic around Hogwarts!"
"Well, get used to it," said Harry, more to himself than to Dobby.
Dobby was now draped in a sweater bearing the Hogwarts coat of arms, a pair of mismatched socks, and a ridiculous, polka dot pointed hat.
"Dobby never expected to see Harry Potter, sir! Especially by Harry Potter just Apparating! What brings Harry Potter here?"
"Er -- can you just call me Harry or Potter?" Harry asked sheepishly.
"No, sir!" said Dobby at once. "Dobby means no --"
"But, really --"
"-- disrespect to --"
"-- you wouldn't --"
"-- Harry Potter!"
"-- oh, nevermind," he said, giving up. "Look, I missed dinner -- don't ask -- and am just a bit hungry. D'you think... you could?"
"Of course, sir!" squeaked Dobby excitedly.
An elf with similar bat-like ears, enormous brown eyes and a nose that could be mistaken for a tomato if it was colored as one, walked over instantly, carrying a platter of bread, sweets, chicken legs and pumpkin juice, among other favorites of Harry's. This elf was another one Harry knew, a female named Winky. Winky had been binded to the Crouch family until she had been sacked for failing to keep Barty Crouch's son, also named Barty, under the Imperius Curse. This was a long story, indeed... Both Winky and Dobby had since found work at Hogwarts for Dumbledore.
"I'd love to stay and chat," Harry lied, making it up as he went and taking the entire platter, "but I have homework to do and that's why I missed dinner."
"Good-bye, Harry Potter!" said Dobby, as a bunch of house-elves waved their hands at him.
"Oh, not now," said Raides, sounding both miserable and disappointed. "I was just trying out the custard."
Harry glared at her and she leapt into the air once again, amidst horrified looks on the elves, Harry catching her once again as the misty gray smoke disappeared. Harry then Disapparated to his dormitory in Gryffindor tower, only to be greeted by the angry faces of both Ron and Hermione.
"Hungry?" said Harry, taking a bite out of a slice of a red pepper.
Ron and Hermione continued glaring at Harry like he had done something foul but broke down and each took a cupcake off the platter to munch on. Neither of them still, Hermione told Harry, liked the idea of him Disapparating into the Slytherin common room. They were further upset when Harry also realized he could use Foresight on just about anyone.
Raides, who, she informed them, was fully loyal to any ancient that was using her, didn't have any objection for being used to do whatever Harry wanted to use her for. It was almost like she had no conscience, Harry thought for a fleeting moment, no conscience to stop a Dark wizard from doing his dirty work.
"Harry," said Hermione pleadingly, "if you're going to Disapparate, please, please, please, promise to us that you won't use Foresight ever again."
Harry looked from each of their desperate faces, to the platter of food sitting on his bed to the golden head of the giant staff he was holding in his hand. At this point, he didn't understand why Hermione wanted him to promise that to her but it seemed that she succumbed to the idea that she couldn't stop him from Disapparating. He had already stolen food from the kitchens... Maybe it was because that Foresight was such a dangerous ability in itself? The ability to peer into someone's mind, anyone's mind, at any time, to know exactly what they were doing, seeing or thinking, to be them, all on command...
This is what Dark wizards do, he thought instantly. They have powers, powers that can be easily abused and they go ahead and abuse them. Not wanting to be labeled as a Dark wizard for using Foresight (and considering he had already done enough damage with it concerning the Sorting Hat), Harry dropped the idea of using it for personal purposes -- ever.
Althought that still wasn't going to stop him from Disapparating into the Slytherin common room.
"I wouldn't need Raides to sneak into the kitchens," said Harry angrily. "I could have done it with the Invisibility Cloak but I seem to be missing that, don't I?"
And with that, he Disapparated not a second later.
"-- and the look on his face when he sees we've destroyed it," Malfoy was saying enthusiastically, "it'll be class-" but he stopped dead at the sight of Harry standing there, staring daggers at him, the enormous Staff of Cybele clutched in his hand.
"Harry!" squealed Dudley, sitting on a couch next to the fire, shaking from head to pudgy toe. "H-h-how?" he stammered.
Harry wasn't too interested in his surroundings. There was a bunch of round, greenish lamps hanging from chains on the ceiling which hung very low. The walls and ceiling were made of rough stone. A fire crackled under an elaborately carved mantelpiece and there were seveal high-backed chairs, concealing only the heads of the Slytherins who had risen from their seats to gape at Harry.
He rolled the Staff of Cybele with both of his hands, stopping when it was perfectly horizontal, watching the horrified faces of Malfoy, Dudley and the other few Slytherins and slowly walked towards Malfoy. The only words that echoed in his head were "when he sees we've destroyed it."
This made him angry. Very, very angry.
His grip around the Staff of Cybele tightened to the point that the crystal at the tip of Raides' mouth disappeared. She let out a roar which told him to loosen his grip, which he did. But he did that on purpose. He wanted her to roar. It made him look threatening.
"Destroyed it, have you?" said Harry in a very soft tone that had just enough anger in it to nail Dudley's feet where he stood.
Malfoy, on the other hand, wasn't exactly as scared as Dudley.
"That's right, Potter," he spat.
Malfoy walked over to a bag sitting on a table and pulled out the Invisibility Cloak, smirking. To Harry's utter horror, it really had been destroyed, or at the very least, damaged: it was torn at some edges and what looked horribly like burn marks were at some other edges. Now he had done it, Malfoy should have expected was to come next.
Harry's instincts kicked in. He let go of Raides. Malfoy's smirk dropped just as fast as Raides to the floor.
"RELEGO!" Harry shouted, holding his left arm behind his head and flailing his right arm as if it were a wand, his index finger pointing at Dudley and his pinky pointing at Malfoy.
The result of this strange way to cast a spell was that both Malfoy and Dudley were lifted from where they stood or sat and were thrown up and slammed, very hard, against the wall behind them. They crashed into each other before sliding down the wall. Malfoy dropped the cloak out of shock.
Harry then opened his hand and shouted, "Accio cloak!" causing the cloak to fly into his hand.
Malfoy and Dudley were just about to get up when Harry raised his free outstretched hand, oddly causing the two of them to raise up off the floor and become pinned against the wall again. This caused Malfoy's pale, pointed face to go much whiter than usual and Dudley's fat face was looking just as white.
Harry couldn't explain it, but he felt something intensely powerful coursing through him, like a huge wave of energy that was letting him do all of this without the staff, even without his wand.
"If I -- EVER --" he shouted, now thoroughly pissed off that they had intentionally damaged a very personal item of his, feeling himself shaking with inexpressable anger, "catch you two stealing my stuff again," he went on, now his voice shaking with anger, "-- D-Dumbledore," said Harry, his blank eyes taking the full view of the wizard that just entered.
All of the blood suddenly drained out of Harry's face which gave him a very pale look. Sweat broke out over his forehead; he didn't expect this to happen and he certainly didn't expect Dumbledore to walk in on it. Dumbledore was staring at Harry, whose outstretched hand was pinning Malfoy and Dudley to a wall. Dumbledore had a look of deepest displeasure on his face and there was absolutely no sparkle behind his half-moon spectacles. His hands were folded in front of him as he slowly walked in.
"Harry, drop them," he said firmly, but no louder than his usual tone which made Harry feel far worse than he did after seeing the condition of the cloak.
He always silently wished Dumbledore would shout rather than talk in such a disappointing tone. Perhaps that was how he always got his point across so effectively?
Harry's hand dropped like a rock, causing Malfoy and Dudley to do the same.
"I had just come to collect the cloak, Harry," said Dumbledore, his face very somber, "and retrieve their Head of House and who should I find here but you."
"Professor, I," Harry began, without a clue of what he was going to say, "I --"
"It is clear that you took your staff," said Dumbledore, his voice oozing of disappointment, "Disapparated here and were to just take your father's Invisibility Cloak" -- Dumbledore peered over at Dudley who looked indifferent at this news then turned back to Harry -- "and Disapparate back to your own common room. You had suspected that the cloak had been damaged -- and I see that it has been -- but did not expect it to be and decided to vent your anger, Harry, I see."
Harry stared. He didn't know what to do, say or think and this time there were only three words running through his mind: "points," "lose" and "detention." There was a fourth one that started with an "e" but he hoped that it wouldn't come to that.
Within seconds, Professor Figg entered from the stone wall. Professor Dumbledore walked over to her and quietly explained the situation to her in such a low voice that Harry only caught a few words here and there. Instinctively, Harry walked over to the staff and picked it up. Raides hadn't said anything.
Malfoy and Dudley got up and both walked over towards Professor Figg, occassionally looking awkwardly at Harry, who took a seat on a dark green three-seat couch opposite the fireplace. Harry laid the staff down on the floor in front of himself and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his head on his hands, staring at the crackling fire.
When Professor Dumbledore finished speaking with Professor Figg, the two of them turned towards Harry.
"Harry, Raides," said Dumbledore, his voice still somber, "please follow me."
Without looking up, Harry stood up and started walking towards Dumbledore. Raides, however, lay motionless on the floor, still as the staff. Dumbledore looked at her and stared for a second.
"Raides," he called again.
She didn't move.
Now at Dumbledore's side, Harry looked down at the floor at her and called her over. In an instant, the usual misty gray smoke consumed the staff and the next second she emerged as the great golden and scarlet lion. Without a second thought about why she didn't listen to him, Dumbledore took the Invisibility Cloak from Harry. He led Harry, Raides and Professor McGonagall to the office of the latter while Malfoy and Dudley were being vehemently yelled at by Professor Figg. Apparently no one had ever stolen anything at Hogwarts and purposely damaged another student's property in seventy years -- or at least since the time Ginny had broken into Harry's dormitory in his second year to steal the diary of Tom Riddle from him.
Inside Professor McGonagall's office while Dumbledore explained what happened to her, many speeches from Hermione were now going through Harry's head, many of them including phrases such as "how stupid are you," "what did you expect" and the ever annoying, "I told you so!"
When Dumbledore finished, her lips were so thin, if Harry looked, he almost wouldn't be able to see them. Her eyes were on the brink of popping with anger.
"Potter!" she said so sharply that Harry's foot kicked Raides, who was lying in front of Harry, sharply in the stomach and he looked up with a start.
Harry was almost as tall as her now but she had a way of making anyone cower under her anger.
"Ouch," said Raides in a lazy drawl, rubbing her stomach with her enormous tail. It looked like Harry barely even hurt her.
"You!" squealed Professor McGongall, turning to Raides, who stopped rubbing her stomach. "You let him!"
Raides, displaying an odd kind of loyalty to Harry, didn't say anything. She went back to rubbing her stomach.
Professor McGonagall paused for a few moments, waiting for an answer but she didn't get one. Harry wished Raides would answer but quite suddenly a voice in his head that he recognized as Raides' said simply, "No." Professor McGonagall now turned to Harry, seeming more appalled.
"Breaking into another house common room," began Professor McGonagall exasperatedly, "threatening students, abusing an ancient staff -- which, mind you, you aren't supposed to have in the first place," she added very sternly to which the low growl of Raides permeated the air for a few seconds.
Showing the Gryffindor in her, Professor McGonagall ignored it and continued unabated.
"What else did he have you do?" she went on, looking at Raides.
Raides, still displaying that odd loyalty, didn't answer. She looked up for a brief moment then put her head back down. It looked as if Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore didn't know that Harry also snuck into the school kitchens.
"I thought I had been most ashamed of Gryffindor students when yourself and Mr. Weasley were sneaking about the castle at night in your first year, telling rubbish stories about dragons to Malfoy and Longbottom!" she squeaked, her eyes now popping with anger. "Well I do hope you've accomplished what you set out for, Potter," she said sharply.
"Excuse me, Minerva," said Dumbledore, taking the opportunity to speak while Professor McGonagall's head raced for the most incriminating words to say, "but I must see to another matter."
Harry watched the cloak go and stared at the floor when it was out of sight. He was convinced Dumbledore was going to confiscate it and Harry would never see it again until the end of the year. Better in Dumbledore's hands than Malfoy's, Harry thought bitterly.
When Professor McGongall was sure she had found the words to make Harry feel as bad as possible, she continued.
"I hope we don't find you abusing other aspects of ancient magic," she said, peering at him over the tops of her square spectacles and pausing momentarily in case he looked up to see her thin lips, "especially Foresight!"
Harry was reminded of the talk about that very subject with Ron and Hermione. He wasn't remotely pleased that he wanted to use it to find out what Malfoy and Dudley were currently thinking but he had a feeling Professor Figg would be just as good as Professor McGonagall. At least it wasn't Professor Snape because then they wouldn't even get a detention.
"You better be staring at your shoes, Potter!" she continued. "Sixty points will deducted from Gryffindor for your -- shameful -- behavior -- and," she barked, "you will be assigned a detention. I cannot express in words our displeasure about your abuse of that staff, Potter. The only reason we agree to let you keep it is that if You-Know-Who comes to pay us a visit! The Ministry of Magic highly disagrees with us on this opinion and the Minister himself expressed his concern about a matter such as this happening."
Harry never liked Cornelius Fudge much. Mr. Fudge believed Harry to be certifiably insane after reading an article Rita Skeeter had written, describing the pains in Harry's scar as delusions and signs in insanity. This was the same Mr. Fudge that Dumbledore had said pelts him with owls asking for advice.
"And, Potter, needless to say," she droned on, "this will only make our controversial decision look less credible," she said hotly. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
Harry suddenly found himself unable to open his mouth. Dumbledore was making yet another controversial decision, like he had once told Harry he so frequently does, that disagrees with the Ministry of Magic to protect Harry. To make matters worse, Raides yawned and then Harry heard her voice say in his head, "Just say that you know you're wrong and you were worried sick about what they would do to your -- dad's -- make sure you emphasize that -- cloak."
Harry, whose mouth was suddenly moveable again, swallowed and looked up. He was sure he wouldn't have been able to think up what Raides had told him to say. The justice in him questioned whether he should say it or not -- the Hermione in him kept saying "you know perfectly well that's going to make her not so angry at you. Don't say it."
Professor McGonagall was staring at him sharply. He had to say something... and quick.
"I was wrong, Professor," he found himself saying in a quiet voice, "but it's just that I was worried sick that they might have gone and completely destroyed my -- dad's cloak."
And just like he thought, Professor McGonagall suddenly broke into the very faintest of smiles. But to his strange pleasure, she quickly went back to looking thoroughly angry.
"Very well," said Professor McGonagall, her voice still carrying the same amount of heat. "This would warrant expulsion, Potter, don't leave without that thoroughly implanted in your head! But the only reason we are not -- is because of You-Know-Who and I'm sure you've had this impression before. However, since your life means more to us than a pack of magic tricks, you will be assigned your detention -- a fitting one -- at the end of Transfiguration Wednesday afternoon. Return to Gryffindor Tower, Potter. I'm sure you have plenty of homework to finish up."
And he was dismissed, feeling that having the dream again would have been a lesser punishment. He had let down Dumbledore so much that there was only one reason he was still in school and it wasn't a very comforting reason, thought Harry, not at all.
As soon as he was sure he was out of sight of everyone, a guilty hand removed the Order of Merlin plaque and held it all the way to the portrait of the Fat Lady, Raides at his heels. He put it back on just before giving her the password so as to not let anyone else see.
It was a horrible feeling having to remind yourself that not -- everything -- you've done should have gotten you expelled -- but didn't -- and only because you're world famous...
Harry had barely taken two steps down the spiral staircase, carrying parchment, his phoenix-feather quill and ink bottle hand when Ron nearly knocked the ink out of his hand.
"Oh, hello, Harry," he said.
"Watch it, hey?"
"Oh, doing your homework now, are you?" said Ron, smirking.
"I got a letter from Sirius," Harry told Ron, pausing for a second to ponder whether he should tell Ron about the other letter, "and one from Cho. You can read Sirius' but you're off your rocker if you think I'm going to show you Cho's," he said, turning slightly pink around the ears. "Come, you can read it while I'm doing this stupid essay."
Harry led Ron back up to his dormitory, hastily shoved Cho's letter into some part of his bedside cabinet while Ron wasn't looking and handed him the letter from Sirius. The two of them went back down into the common room, taking a seat by a table, ignoring one first year girl hurriedly walking away at the sight of Raides entering from the portrait hole. Raides rolled her eyes, spotted Harry and Ron and settled herself at their feet.
While Harry was doing his homework, Ron told Raides about Sirius' letter.
"Finish it and give it here!" she said quietly and feverishly.
"What are you so interested in what Sirius has to say?" said Harry, generally curious.
"I just like him. He has that sarcastic sense of humor you've come to know and love that I have, too," she said, her golden head contorted in a very toothy grin.
Harry rolled his eyes and stared at his last sentence: "A strong reason for not wanting to Disapparate more than usual would be because of the unpleasant phenomenon of splinching." He recalled how he had gotten splinched and how he didn't want to repeat the experience...
"How long is yours?" Harry asked, turning to Ron.
"I don't remember," Ron replied, not taking his eyes off Sirius' letter, only half listening to Harry. "Hermione was going on about how her's was four pages and couldn't possibly see how we only had to write two. What can there possibly be so much to write about? Splinching, that's it. And after seeing it happen to you, I certainly don't want it to happen to me."
"Thanks, Ron," said Harry, glaring at him.
"Sorry," Ron muttered.
Brushing off his slight displeasure with Ron -- because it certainly wouldn't help to stay angry -- he went back to writing but was quite stuck on what to write next.
Then, after a minute, the next sentence came to him ("After a certain personal experience with splinching, it is easily the most compelling reason to not abuse Disapparation by using it more often than is necessary").
Ron had probably read the letter three times over before he tapped Harry on the arm.
"This is some pretty heavy stuff," he said sounding very serious. "Do they really think Voldemort's no longer immortal? That another Killing Curse will finish him off?"
"I just hope so," said Harry.
"C'mon, Ron," said Raides, "fork it over."
"You can read?" Ron asked blankly.
"Yes! Now drop it so I can look at it."
Ron did as he was told and Raides shifted the pieces of parchment with her paw. Ginny ambled over to ask what was going on. Upon remembering what Dumbledore had told Harry, Ron and Hermione about the Order of the Phoenix, Ron couldn't tell Ginny as Dumbledore had told them to not mention to anyone else about it. Since the letter mentioned it... She got pushy and Ron told her to "bugger off." Folding her arms, she finally went back to a few Gryffindor sixth years.
"So they're going to try to kill him then?" said Ron, making sure he had read correctly.
"Yes," said Raides, having had just finished reading and looking up at Ron. "And close your mouth, I read fast," she added irritably.
"Just as long as it doesn't involve me but then they bring me to look at his dead and decaying body," said Harry, longing for the moment.
While Raides and Ron discussed the finer points of Thantanos, the Mark of Ancients and Michelle crying herself hoarse over Harry, Harry himself tried to continue his essay but found that he simply couldn't. He should have finished eating.
He looked at his gold wristwatch and saw that dinner had, unfortunately, just ended. Harry put his phoenix-feather quill in the ink well, slouched back in his chair, folded his arms and sighed. There was no denying it: he was hungry. Dennis Creevey was finishing up a Chocolate Frog and James Griffith, a sixth year with an appearance very closely resembling Harry's father (both of them had untidy black hair and glasses) had a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans out.
Harry's stomach made a grumble and he was sure it wasn't because he missed Cho. He would have been able to get something to eat, but his cloak was missing. He voiced this to Ron.
"Harry, you have me, and you can still Apparate around the castle until after your next Paladism class," Raides reminded him. "For God's sake, Disapparate to the kitchens and get yourself something. I'm sure Dobby and friends would be glad to ablidge."
But suddenly, Harry was reminded of something else. Ron stared for a moment, trying to figure it out because this realization showed on Harry's face. Then, just as suddenly, Ron broke out trying to find the words to stop Harry.
"Harry, no!" he hissed. "That's just the thing Dumbledore doesn't want you doing! You're not Disapparating into the Slytherin common room! Let Dumbledore handle it!"
Harry smirked at him.
"I'm just going to get myself something to eat and then get my cloak back," he said innocently. "What's the harm?"
"What's the harm?" Ron continued hissing and trying to sound as much like Hermione as he could possibly be. "I'll tell you what the harm is, you're going to get detention. And lots of it! Hermione!" he added, watching her enter through the portait hole.
"Hello, Ron --"
"I was just telling Harry here why he shouldn't use Raides to Disapparate to the Slytherin common room to steal his dad's cloak back," Ron hissed urgently at her, pulling Hermione by the arm over to Harry.
Hermione's face changed from a smile to one so much resembling Professor McGonagall's hideous stare that it was frightening. Her lips went so thin Harry could swear she had put an Invisibility Cloak on them.
Harry stood up, defying both of them. Raides, to Harry's relief and Ron and Hermione's disgust, was completely indifferent.
"C'mon, Raides," said Harry. "We have some food to get and a cloak to steal," he added in an undertone to her.
She crawled out from under the table, leapt up, becoming surrounded in misty gray smoked and emerged the seven foot long Staff of Cybele, complete with golden fur and scarlet crystal. People were obviously not used to this yet and many Gryffindors stared. Harry caught the staff by the middle when the smoke disappeared.
He held her at his side, the staff towering a few feet over his head, and, in the middle of the Gryffindor common room, Disapparated with a pop to the Hogwarts kitchens, startling the hundred or so house-elves in the process.
When their shock of someone Disapparating wore off, they stared at the Staff of Cybele which had just turned back into a seven foot long lion.
"What," said Raides in a hoarse, irritated voice.
"Harry Potter!" squealed an elf with bulging green tennis ball-sized eyes and large bat-like ears.
"Hello, Dobby," said Harry as the elf grabbed him around the mid riff.
"We house elves has heard about the Staff of Cybele, sir," said Dobby, still staring at it, "but Dobby never knew that the staff would let a human Disapparate, totally ignoring the magic around Hogwarts!"
"Well, get used to it," said Harry, more to himself than to Dobby.
Dobby was now draped in a sweater bearing the Hogwarts coat of arms, a pair of mismatched socks, and a ridiculous, polka dot pointed hat.
"Dobby never expected to see Harry Potter, sir! Especially by Harry Potter just Apparating! What brings Harry Potter here?"
"Er -- can you just call me Harry or Potter?" Harry asked sheepishly.
"No, sir!" said Dobby at once. "Dobby means no --"
"But, really --"
"-- disrespect to --"
"-- you wouldn't --"
"-- Harry Potter!"
"-- oh, nevermind," he said, giving up. "Look, I missed dinner -- don't ask -- and am just a bit hungry. D'you think... you could?"
"Of course, sir!" squeaked Dobby excitedly.
An elf with similar bat-like ears, enormous brown eyes and a nose that could be mistaken for a tomato if it was colored as one, walked over instantly, carrying a platter of bread, sweets, chicken legs and pumpkin juice, among other favorites of Harry's. This elf was another one Harry knew, a female named Winky. Winky had been binded to the Crouch family until she had been sacked for failing to keep Barty Crouch's son, also named Barty, under the Imperius Curse. This was a long story, indeed... Both Winky and Dobby had since found work at Hogwarts for Dumbledore.
"I'd love to stay and chat," Harry lied, making it up as he went and taking the entire platter, "but I have homework to do and that's why I missed dinner."
"Good-bye, Harry Potter!" said Dobby, as a bunch of house-elves waved their hands at him.
"Oh, not now," said Raides, sounding both miserable and disappointed. "I was just trying out the custard."
Harry glared at her and she leapt into the air once again, amidst horrified looks on the elves, Harry catching her once again as the misty gray smoke disappeared. Harry then Disapparated to his dormitory in Gryffindor tower, only to be greeted by the angry faces of both Ron and Hermione.
"Hungry?" said Harry, taking a bite out of a slice of a red pepper.
Ron and Hermione continued glaring at Harry like he had done something foul but broke down and each took a cupcake off the platter to munch on. Neither of them still, Hermione told Harry, liked the idea of him Disapparating into the Slytherin common room. They were further upset when Harry also realized he could use Foresight on just about anyone.
Raides, who, she informed them, was fully loyal to any ancient that was using her, didn't have any objection for being used to do whatever Harry wanted to use her for. It was almost like she had no conscience, Harry thought for a fleeting moment, no conscience to stop a Dark wizard from doing his dirty work.
"Harry," said Hermione pleadingly, "if you're going to Disapparate, please, please, please, promise to us that you won't use Foresight ever again."
Harry looked from each of their desperate faces, to the platter of food sitting on his bed to the golden head of the giant staff he was holding in his hand. At this point, he didn't understand why Hermione wanted him to promise that to her but it seemed that she succumbed to the idea that she couldn't stop him from Disapparating. He had already stolen food from the kitchens... Maybe it was because that Foresight was such a dangerous ability in itself? The ability to peer into someone's mind, anyone's mind, at any time, to know exactly what they were doing, seeing or thinking, to be them, all on command...
This is what Dark wizards do, he thought instantly. They have powers, powers that can be easily abused and they go ahead and abuse them. Not wanting to be labeled as a Dark wizard for using Foresight (and considering he had already done enough damage with it concerning the Sorting Hat), Harry dropped the idea of using it for personal purposes -- ever.
Althought that still wasn't going to stop him from Disapparating into the Slytherin common room.
"I wouldn't need Raides to sneak into the kitchens," said Harry angrily. "I could have done it with the Invisibility Cloak but I seem to be missing that, don't I?"
And with that, he Disapparated not a second later.
"-- and the look on his face when he sees we've destroyed it," Malfoy was saying enthusiastically, "it'll be class-" but he stopped dead at the sight of Harry standing there, staring daggers at him, the enormous Staff of Cybele clutched in his hand.
"Harry!" squealed Dudley, sitting on a couch next to the fire, shaking from head to pudgy toe. "H-h-how?" he stammered.
Harry wasn't too interested in his surroundings. There was a bunch of round, greenish lamps hanging from chains on the ceiling which hung very low. The walls and ceiling were made of rough stone. A fire crackled under an elaborately carved mantelpiece and there were seveal high-backed chairs, concealing only the heads of the Slytherins who had risen from their seats to gape at Harry.
He rolled the Staff of Cybele with both of his hands, stopping when it was perfectly horizontal, watching the horrified faces of Malfoy, Dudley and the other few Slytherins and slowly walked towards Malfoy. The only words that echoed in his head were "when he sees we've destroyed it."
This made him angry. Very, very angry.
His grip around the Staff of Cybele tightened to the point that the crystal at the tip of Raides' mouth disappeared. She let out a roar which told him to loosen his grip, which he did. But he did that on purpose. He wanted her to roar. It made him look threatening.
"Destroyed it, have you?" said Harry in a very soft tone that had just enough anger in it to nail Dudley's feet where he stood.
Malfoy, on the other hand, wasn't exactly as scared as Dudley.
"That's right, Potter," he spat.
Malfoy walked over to a bag sitting on a table and pulled out the Invisibility Cloak, smirking. To Harry's utter horror, it really had been destroyed, or at the very least, damaged: it was torn at some edges and what looked horribly like burn marks were at some other edges. Now he had done it, Malfoy should have expected was to come next.
Harry's instincts kicked in. He let go of Raides. Malfoy's smirk dropped just as fast as Raides to the floor.
"RELEGO!" Harry shouted, holding his left arm behind his head and flailing his right arm as if it were a wand, his index finger pointing at Dudley and his pinky pointing at Malfoy.
The result of this strange way to cast a spell was that both Malfoy and Dudley were lifted from where they stood or sat and were thrown up and slammed, very hard, against the wall behind them. They crashed into each other before sliding down the wall. Malfoy dropped the cloak out of shock.
Harry then opened his hand and shouted, "Accio cloak!" causing the cloak to fly into his hand.
Malfoy and Dudley were just about to get up when Harry raised his free outstretched hand, oddly causing the two of them to raise up off the floor and become pinned against the wall again. This caused Malfoy's pale, pointed face to go much whiter than usual and Dudley's fat face was looking just as white.
Harry couldn't explain it, but he felt something intensely powerful coursing through him, like a huge wave of energy that was letting him do all of this without the staff, even without his wand.
"If I -- EVER --" he shouted, now thoroughly pissed off that they had intentionally damaged a very personal item of his, feeling himself shaking with inexpressable anger, "catch you two stealing my stuff again," he went on, now his voice shaking with anger, "-- D-Dumbledore," said Harry, his blank eyes taking the full view of the wizard that just entered.
All of the blood suddenly drained out of Harry's face which gave him a very pale look. Sweat broke out over his forehead; he didn't expect this to happen and he certainly didn't expect Dumbledore to walk in on it. Dumbledore was staring at Harry, whose outstretched hand was pinning Malfoy and Dudley to a wall. Dumbledore had a look of deepest displeasure on his face and there was absolutely no sparkle behind his half-moon spectacles. His hands were folded in front of him as he slowly walked in.
"Harry, drop them," he said firmly, but no louder than his usual tone which made Harry feel far worse than he did after seeing the condition of the cloak.
He always silently wished Dumbledore would shout rather than talk in such a disappointing tone. Perhaps that was how he always got his point across so effectively?
Harry's hand dropped like a rock, causing Malfoy and Dudley to do the same.
"I had just come to collect the cloak, Harry," said Dumbledore, his face very somber, "and retrieve their Head of House and who should I find here but you."
"Professor, I," Harry began, without a clue of what he was going to say, "I --"
"It is clear that you took your staff," said Dumbledore, his voice oozing of disappointment, "Disapparated here and were to just take your father's Invisibility Cloak" -- Dumbledore peered over at Dudley who looked indifferent at this news then turned back to Harry -- "and Disapparate back to your own common room. You had suspected that the cloak had been damaged -- and I see that it has been -- but did not expect it to be and decided to vent your anger, Harry, I see."
Harry stared. He didn't know what to do, say or think and this time there were only three words running through his mind: "points," "lose" and "detention." There was a fourth one that started with an "e" but he hoped that it wouldn't come to that.
Within seconds, Professor Figg entered from the stone wall. Professor Dumbledore walked over to her and quietly explained the situation to her in such a low voice that Harry only caught a few words here and there. Instinctively, Harry walked over to the staff and picked it up. Raides hadn't said anything.
Malfoy and Dudley got up and both walked over towards Professor Figg, occassionally looking awkwardly at Harry, who took a seat on a dark green three-seat couch opposite the fireplace. Harry laid the staff down on the floor in front of himself and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his head on his hands, staring at the crackling fire.
When Professor Dumbledore finished speaking with Professor Figg, the two of them turned towards Harry.
"Harry, Raides," said Dumbledore, his voice still somber, "please follow me."
Without looking up, Harry stood up and started walking towards Dumbledore. Raides, however, lay motionless on the floor, still as the staff. Dumbledore looked at her and stared for a second.
"Raides," he called again.
She didn't move.
Now at Dumbledore's side, Harry looked down at the floor at her and called her over. In an instant, the usual misty gray smoke consumed the staff and the next second she emerged as the great golden and scarlet lion. Without a second thought about why she didn't listen to him, Dumbledore took the Invisibility Cloak from Harry. He led Harry, Raides and Professor McGonagall to the office of the latter while Malfoy and Dudley were being vehemently yelled at by Professor Figg. Apparently no one had ever stolen anything at Hogwarts and purposely damaged another student's property in seventy years -- or at least since the time Ginny had broken into Harry's dormitory in his second year to steal the diary of Tom Riddle from him.
Inside Professor McGonagall's office while Dumbledore explained what happened to her, many speeches from Hermione were now going through Harry's head, many of them including phrases such as "how stupid are you," "what did you expect" and the ever annoying, "I told you so!"
When Dumbledore finished, her lips were so thin, if Harry looked, he almost wouldn't be able to see them. Her eyes were on the brink of popping with anger.
"Potter!" she said so sharply that Harry's foot kicked Raides, who was lying in front of Harry, sharply in the stomach and he looked up with a start.
Harry was almost as tall as her now but she had a way of making anyone cower under her anger.
"Ouch," said Raides in a lazy drawl, rubbing her stomach with her enormous tail. It looked like Harry barely even hurt her.
"You!" squealed Professor McGongall, turning to Raides, who stopped rubbing her stomach. "You let him!"
Raides, displaying an odd kind of loyalty to Harry, didn't say anything. She went back to rubbing her stomach.
Professor McGonagall paused for a few moments, waiting for an answer but she didn't get one. Harry wished Raides would answer but quite suddenly a voice in his head that he recognized as Raides' said simply, "No." Professor McGonagall now turned to Harry, seeming more appalled.
"Breaking into another house common room," began Professor McGonagall exasperatedly, "threatening students, abusing an ancient staff -- which, mind you, you aren't supposed to have in the first place," she added very sternly to which the low growl of Raides permeated the air for a few seconds.
Showing the Gryffindor in her, Professor McGonagall ignored it and continued unabated.
"What else did he have you do?" she went on, looking at Raides.
Raides, still displaying that odd loyalty, didn't answer. She looked up for a brief moment then put her head back down. It looked as if Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore didn't know that Harry also snuck into the school kitchens.
"I thought I had been most ashamed of Gryffindor students when yourself and Mr. Weasley were sneaking about the castle at night in your first year, telling rubbish stories about dragons to Malfoy and Longbottom!" she squeaked, her eyes now popping with anger. "Well I do hope you've accomplished what you set out for, Potter," she said sharply.
"Excuse me, Minerva," said Dumbledore, taking the opportunity to speak while Professor McGonagall's head raced for the most incriminating words to say, "but I must see to another matter."
Harry watched the cloak go and stared at the floor when it was out of sight. He was convinced Dumbledore was going to confiscate it and Harry would never see it again until the end of the year. Better in Dumbledore's hands than Malfoy's, Harry thought bitterly.
When Professor McGongall was sure she had found the words to make Harry feel as bad as possible, she continued.
"I hope we don't find you abusing other aspects of ancient magic," she said, peering at him over the tops of her square spectacles and pausing momentarily in case he looked up to see her thin lips, "especially Foresight!"
Harry was reminded of the talk about that very subject with Ron and Hermione. He wasn't remotely pleased that he wanted to use it to find out what Malfoy and Dudley were currently thinking but he had a feeling Professor Figg would be just as good as Professor McGonagall. At least it wasn't Professor Snape because then they wouldn't even get a detention.
"You better be staring at your shoes, Potter!" she continued. "Sixty points will deducted from Gryffindor for your -- shameful -- behavior -- and," she barked, "you will be assigned a detention. I cannot express in words our displeasure about your abuse of that staff, Potter. The only reason we agree to let you keep it is that if You-Know-Who comes to pay us a visit! The Ministry of Magic highly disagrees with us on this opinion and the Minister himself expressed his concern about a matter such as this happening."
Harry never liked Cornelius Fudge much. Mr. Fudge believed Harry to be certifiably insane after reading an article Rita Skeeter had written, describing the pains in Harry's scar as delusions and signs in insanity. This was the same Mr. Fudge that Dumbledore had said pelts him with owls asking for advice.
"And, Potter, needless to say," she droned on, "this will only make our controversial decision look less credible," she said hotly. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
Harry suddenly found himself unable to open his mouth. Dumbledore was making yet another controversial decision, like he had once told Harry he so frequently does, that disagrees with the Ministry of Magic to protect Harry. To make matters worse, Raides yawned and then Harry heard her voice say in his head, "Just say that you know you're wrong and you were worried sick about what they would do to your -- dad's -- make sure you emphasize that -- cloak."
Harry, whose mouth was suddenly moveable again, swallowed and looked up. He was sure he wouldn't have been able to think up what Raides had told him to say. The justice in him questioned whether he should say it or not -- the Hermione in him kept saying "you know perfectly well that's going to make her not so angry at you. Don't say it."
Professor McGonagall was staring at him sharply. He had to say something... and quick.
"I was wrong, Professor," he found himself saying in a quiet voice, "but it's just that I was worried sick that they might have gone and completely destroyed my -- dad's cloak."
And just like he thought, Professor McGonagall suddenly broke into the very faintest of smiles. But to his strange pleasure, she quickly went back to looking thoroughly angry.
"Very well," said Professor McGonagall, her voice still carrying the same amount of heat. "This would warrant expulsion, Potter, don't leave without that thoroughly implanted in your head! But the only reason we are not -- is because of You-Know-Who and I'm sure you've had this impression before. However, since your life means more to us than a pack of magic tricks, you will be assigned your detention -- a fitting one -- at the end of Transfiguration Wednesday afternoon. Return to Gryffindor Tower, Potter. I'm sure you have plenty of homework to finish up."
And he was dismissed, feeling that having the dream again would have been a lesser punishment. He had let down Dumbledore so much that there was only one reason he was still in school and it wasn't a very comforting reason, thought Harry, not at all.
As soon as he was sure he was out of sight of everyone, a guilty hand removed the Order of Merlin plaque and held it all the way to the portrait of the Fat Lady, Raides at his heels. He put it back on just before giving her the password so as to not let anyone else see.
It was a horrible feeling having to remind yourself that not -- everything -- you've done should have gotten you expelled -- but didn't -- and only because you're world famous...