The wait was much longer than the last time Harry was alone in the Interview room. The questioning hadn't even started and he was incredibly uncomfortable. The same as before, his hands were locked in place, the inhibitor sealed into the table. He occasionally looked up at his reflection in the two-way mirror, wondering if someone was watching him on the other side. If they were, it must make for boring viewing. It wasn't as if he could do anything. He sighed, resisting the urge to rest his head on his arms and get a bit of sleep. He hadn't slept well the previous night, his mind wired. Nerves kept him from eating much of his breakfast as well. Today would make or break his case. He would either win a victory against Fudge or have it all blow up in his face.
It didn't help that he couldn't stop thinking about Hermione. He knew he should worry about himself, worry that he was due to talk about the most traumatic experience of his life, but all he could think about was Umbridge hurting Hermione. When he did eventually fall asleep, he was gasping back awake, the image of Hermione's delicate hand bleeding from several cuts burned into his head. Her soft hisses of pain as she was made to cut into her hand, just like he had been made to.
The thought of Hermione in pain terrified him. It set off a whine in his head that paralysed him, made him immediately forget where he was and what he was doing. It reminded him of when she had been petrified, that horrible helpless feeling that made it hard to breathe when he spent every free moment at her bedside. He couldn't be there now, couldn't be just present and supportive. Instead, he was chained to a table, isolated and afraid.
Loud footsteps out in the hallway beyond brought him out of his thoughts. Harry pulled his shoulders back, ignoring the ache in the centre of his back from the uncomfortable position he was in. He leaned forwards, trying to spy through the ajar door.
Foreboding gripped Harry at once when Rufus Scrimgeour entered. He nodded his greeting to Harry and made his way without hesitation to the empty seat across from him. Harry noticed that he was empty-handed. No purple file, not pieces of evidence to interrogate him about. Where was his medical record?
The door then slammed shut, making Harry jump. He froze. Amelia wasn't present. Scrimgeour pulled the seat out from under the table, the legs squeaking on the floor.
"Good morning, Potter," Scrimgeour said gruffly. He interlaced his fingers and rested his hands on the table top. "I apologise for the wait. I have just come directly from the Minister's office where we reviewed the evidence that you submitted last night as part of your defence.
Harry lifted his head up, stunned. He stared at the Head Auror. Gone was the harsh, unfeeling interrogator who pushed his buttons to get him to talk. He was still incredibly serious and intimidating, but Harry didn't feel threatened.
"To be frank with you, Potter, the Auror Office regards the use of the Cruciatus Curse and a Blood Quill on a minor to be more serious than an illegal gathering of students."
Harry listened, his throat dry. Scrimgeour then drew out his wand and took Harry completely by surprise when he tapped it on his cuffs. The bands of metal loosened. Unnerved with the change, being suddenly treated differently, he pulled his hands through the rings and brought then tentatively to rest on the table, mirroring Scrimgeour's pose.
Scrimgeour then conjured up a glass with a wave of his wand. Another wave had the vessel filling with clear water. He pushed the glass across the table towards Harry. Giving him a grateful look, Harry took up the glass, his hand shaking visibly.
"The Minister has dropped the charges of conspiracy and fraud, Potter. That's the good news." Scrimgeour said when Harry started to sip at the water. He tapped the base of his wand on the table. "The bad news is the sedition charge. He has presented it before the Wizengamot this morning… and argues that you are not in your right state of mind and are a danger to yourself and others."
Harry nearly choked in surprise. He lowered the glass from his mouth. "W-what?"
"The abuse you have suffered is undeniable… however, the Minister argues that you… carried out the abuse yourself." Scrimgeour explained in a much more considerate tone than he used before with him.
Harry let out a dark laugh. He had suspected that Fudge would lean back on the questions about his sanity.
"He thinks I cast the Cruciatus on myself ? Is that even possible?" Harry asked, angry and bewildered. Scrimgeour's mouth was set in a grim line.
"It is very unlikely for a wizard of your age to cast a full powered Cruciatus Curse, much less direct it at yourself."
A vivid memory of thrashing against ropes burned into Harry's mind. Of pain so unbearable, he longed for the release of death. Harry put down the glass, looking down, gasping in a breath.
"You and Cedric Diggory were unaccounted for during the night of June 24th for two hours. In those hours, Mr Diggory lost his life… and you were tortured." Scrimgeour stated the facts. Harry winced at the mention of Cedric, his heart palpating a little. It went past the walls Harry had erected around the trauma and past the defences he had built to keep him functioning. He started to smell the dirt and decay of the Graveyard. His ears buzzed with the laughter, the jeers, and the applause.
He advanced slowly. Turning away from the audience, from the crowd, his gleaming white face hardened and eyes as red as blood burned in his face. The promise of pain in the merciless depths was quickly fulfilled with a single word.
"Crucio. "
A hand suddenly gripped one of his. Harry focused, gasping into the present. He met Scrimgeour's gaze, his yellowish eyes softening with concern.
"You don't strike me as mentally unstable, Harry." It was the first time the man had called him 'Harry'. "But I'm afraid I need to ask you some questions about what you have said publicly about what transpired during those lost hours. You can refuse to answer as is your right, but I assure you, I will listen to whatever you say."
Miserably, Harry nodded, understanding. He knew that it would come down to this. Rita Skeeter had already publicised his episodes with his scar, interviewing healers who said in print that he should be examined for brain damage. He had no real argument to prove that he wasn't damaged. He knew having visions of Voldemort's mind wasn't normal. It definitely wasn't normal to experience crippling pain when he was in proximity with the murderer or when he felt powerful emotions. It was so abnormal that he'd been given occlumency lessons to deal with it.
"I understand." Harry said quietly, trying to not show how terrified he was. He kept picturing the closed ward at St Mungo's. Was that his destination now? A bed alongside Neville's parents?
"Where did the portkey take you and Mr Diggory?"
Dazed, Harry stared at the man for a moment before realising that he had asked him a very important question. He reached for the water again and took a couple of sips. He needed the brief break to pull himself together.
"To where Voldemort's father was buried," he said, "Tom Riddle Senior." He noticed Scrimgeour's slight wince at the name. "A graveyard… I don't know where it was exactly, but… the location was important. The ritual that brought him back needed his father's bone."
"What happened when you both arrived?"
Harry closed his eyes the moment the memory hit him square on just like the Avada Kedavra that killed Cedric. He could feel the icy fear in his bones, the searing pain in his head… the grass under his knees as he fell.
Kill the spare.
He could hear the thump as Cedric's corpse dropped next to him.
"He killed him." Harry said, hating how scared he sounded. "I… I couldn't stop it. I knew the moment I saw him that… we had to get back, but he just killed him like he was nothing."
To his horror, his eyes started to burn.
"He gave the order to 'kill the spare'. He didn't cast the curse, but it was on his orders. He didn't want any witnesses and so Wormtail killed him."
"Wormtail?" Scrimgeour repeated the name at once.
"Peter Pettigrew," Harry clarified. He then sighed. "And yes, he's alive. He faked his death all those years ago and was hiding as a rat - he's an animagus."
Harry opened his eyes to see that Scrimgeour looked visibly shocked.
"He's alive?"
"Yes… I found out a couple of years ago." Harry started to recover from the distress of reliving the night, steeling himself. If Scrimgeour believed he wasn't mad, if he believed him about Pettigrew and Voldemort, he might believe him about Sirius. He knew that ranting about Sirius's innocence could do him more harm than good so he stayed on topic.
"He rejoined his master last year," Harry continued. "He's the one who betrayed my parents to Voldemort. I've seen his Dark Mark myself."
Scrimgeour brought his hands over his face for a moment, bringing them down slowly.
"He and Barty Crouch Junior… they were the only Death Eaters who found Voldemort. They discovered a ritual that could restore Voldemort's body. It needed three ingredients. Bone of the father, Flesh of the Servant and…" Harry swallowed. "Blood of the Enemy. He said he could have used anyone, but he chose me because… well… I'm responsible for him not having a body in the first place."
He slowly drew back the sleeve of his right arm. He rolled it over to show Scrimgeour. "This is where I was bled. I was tied up so I couldn't fight back… gagged too."
Scrimgeour's jaw tensed as he examined the thin scar on his arm. He sighed. "That is the laceration your record reported."
"Yeah, he… he used a knife," Harry said nervously. "W-Wormtail did." He pulled his sleeve down. Harry drew in a deep breath. "The whole thing was a trap. Putting my name in the Goblet of Fire. They found out about the Triwizard Tournament…Voldemort found out about it from Bertha Jorkins… that's what happened to her, by the way."
Scrimgeour drew in a sharp breath. "Merlin…"
"Barty Crouch Junior took Moody's identity so he could work behind the scenes and make sure I got to the portkey . Cedric… he shouldn't have ever been there." A painful lump rose in his throat. "I convinced him to lift the cup… it's my fault…"
He stopped talking, staring down at the table. The burning in his eyes got worse and he blinked several times.
"That's survivor's guilt, lad. Only one to blame is the one who took his life, not you."
Scrimgeour's attempt to console him surprised him. It was enough to get him to continue.
"The ritual worked and he returned. He used Pettigrew's Mark to send a signal to the other Death Eaters. They all have the Dark Mark branded on their left arms." He looked up at Scrimgeour, remembering who he was talking to. "And they go black when he touches them. They apparated to the Graveyard so I… guess it tells them where to go too."
The Head Auror sighed again and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.
"Voldemort revealed their identities. I wasn't supposed to survive so it didn't matter that I knew." Harry glanced to the mirror behind him. "I know a number of them avoided Azkaban after the war with arguments that they were under the Imperius Curse. If they avoided sentencing then, they'll just resort to their old tricks." Scrimgeour looked taken back. Harry let out a soft scoff. "I know my enemies well, sir. They're powerful people who threaten and bribe to get what they want. I've named them before but the Minister just dismissed it as me knowing the names from old court cases."
He held up his left hand, showing Scrimgeour the scars cut into his skin. "I'm just a boy who tells lies. They financially back up the Ministry."
Harry had already thought it through. Accusing Lucius Malfoy would only put him in even more danger. While he knew he was under strict guard, he knew his enemies could get to him in multiple ways. He didn't want to force their hand.
"You are in protective custody." Scrimgeour said in response. Harry noticed he didn't deny that there were Death Eaters at large and not just the ones that escaped from Azkaban.
"I'm not so naive to believe that means I'm safe. Voldemort managed to kidnap me right from everyone's noses at Hogwarts. Dementors found me in the middle of Surrey. All it would take is an Imperius Curse on one of the guards and I don't exactly have a way to defend myself if someone gets to me when alone in my cell at night."
Being alone in his cell for a whole day didn't help with his paranoia. He'd thought of many different ways Voldemort could get to him while in the Ministry's custody.
"Voldemort was less than pleased with those that showed up that night. What's to say what they would do to win back his favour?" Harry continued, his tone bleak. "I'm frankly surprised they haven't tried anything yet." Harry looked sharply away. "Now that people are starting to listen to me, I'm a danger to them. I wasn't supposed to survive their little resurrection party, after all."
"How did you survive?" Scrimgeour asked then, his eyes drilling into him intently.
"When he finished with his Death Eaters, he turned on me. Tortured me… as you know." Harry held his gaze until the man nodded in response. "But he didn't want to just put me down without making an example of me. He wanted to make sure there wasn't a shadow of a doubt that I was ever a threat to him, so he had me cut free and gave me back my wand."
"You duelled?"
Harry let out a derisive snort. "If you can call it that. He forced me to bow and hit me with the Cruciatus again. He hit me with the Imperius too but I threw it off."
Scrimgeour sucked in a breath, catching Harry's attention. He could see a glint of appraisal in his yellowish eyes.
"I knew I had no chance, but I didn't want to die a coward, so I fought back."
Scrimgeour frowned. Harry sighed and rubbed at his eyes under his glasses. He felt exhausted already and he'd barely been in the room for an hour. He knew he had to share about the twin wands, even if the information got back to Voldemort. It wasn't as if his wand was much use to him while confiscated.
"I went to disarm which is pretty stupid, I know. I wasn't really thinking clearly, but… impossibly it worked. It hit his Avada Kedavra and the spells connected." Scrimgeour just stared at him, his face impassive. "I know how it sounds. Our wands share the same core and don't work properly against each other. I've known since I got mine from Ollivander that they have the phoenix feathers from the same phoenix, but had no idea that they'd clash like they did. Neither did Voldemort." Harry could see Scrimgeour's mind processing what he was saying.
"Our wands connected and forced Priori Incantatem. It showed all the spells Voldemort had cast… the Cruciatus first… and then it showed the lives it had taken in reverse order."
Harry swallowed. He closed his eyes. "It showed my parents."
He heard Scrimgeour shifting in his chair quietly but he didn't open his eyes. He took in a deep breath and continued.
"They spoke to me… told me to take the portkey and that they'd distract Voldemort long enough. Cedric… he asked me to take his body back…" It was getting hard to speak past the lump in his throat but he was close to the end now. He pushed on. "I broke the connection and ran for it. They chased me, but I got to Cedric and summoned the cup. Then… then I returned to Hogwarts."
The silence fell flat after finishing his tale rather anticlimactically. He opened his eyes but didn't look at Scrimgeour. Anxious of Scrimgeour's reaction, he reached for the glass and finished the water. Still the Head Auror didn't speak. Harry risked a glance up. Scrimgeour's expression was stern, but not hostile. There was no sign of scoffing disbelief. No hint of a sneer. He then sighed out his nose and nodded slowly.
"It's certainly an incredible story, but that does not make it untrue. Finding evidence to support your account will be difficult. Leads are eight months cold and you are the sole witness." Scrimgeour brought his hands up, resting them together. He leaned his chin against the tips. "We will work on finding evidence. Finding the Graveyard shouldn't be too difficult and Dark Magic leaves traces." Scrimgeour said after a moment contemplating the matter. "Regretfully, an investigation will involve examining Mr Diggory's body. Something that I wish we could avoid but if indeed he was killed with the Avada Kedavra and murdered… a long-overdue Post Mortem is necessary. "
Harry stared at him. Shock brought his thoughts to a stand-still. Scrimgeour met his gaze and, for the first time, he appeared guilty.
"Surely… surely someone looked into the cause of his death?" Harry's voice sounded weird, distant. He didn't want to believe it. He couldn't…
"The official report stated that his death was an accident during the Tournament. The Auror Office doesn't investigate accidents. The matter was handled by Magical Accidents and Catastrophes."
Harry put his hands over his face. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay under control. He could hear Umbridge's sickly sweet voice in his head.
Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident.
"He… he's been dead for," Harry paused to count the months, " eight months. You can't seriously mean you are going to… dig him up."
He felt sick. Worse than sick. Cedric's death had been covered up on purpose. Whoever made that official report would have known Cedric's death was no accident. The Avada Kedavra leaves no marks, no signs of damage. It would have appeared that he just dropped dead. No accident could cause that.
"You can't do that to… to his mum and dad." Harry breathed past his palms. "Surely there's another way."
Suddenly, the door was practically blasted open. Harry violently jumped, his instincts screaming at him. He pushed himself off his chair, the metal slamming into the ground. He was backing off, feet carrying away from danger. Warnings wailed in his head. He brought his hands up defensively, hopelessly vulnerable without a wand.
Cornelius Fudge stormed inside, his face ruddy red with his rage. Harry pressed his back against the wall, but Scrimgeour was on his feet as fast as Harry. He pushed aside his chair, tearing across the space with his wand held high. He was between Harry and Fudge before the latter made it to Harry's side of the table.
Harry had seen the Minister angry. When he and Dumbledore argued, he dropped his fatherly demeanour very quickly. He'd seen him so mad, he was spluttering with rage. But he didn't come across as a threat then. This time was different.
He was absolutely livid.
"I will not entertain another one of this boy's delusions a second longer!" Fudge bellowed, his voice exceptionally loud. Harry cringed back against the wall, bracing for a blow. A childhood of being on the receiving end of shouting matches had him recoiling instinctively. "He should be at St Mungo's where he can cause no rather harm!"
Amelia Bones then tore into the small room.
"Cornelius, that is enough !" Amelia boomed. With a jerk of her wand, the door slammed shut behind her. "You are endangering an important witness and interrupting a formal-"
"And you are feeding into his sickness!" Fudge rounded on her. Harry inched himself away from the wall once he was sure Fudge wasn't about to curse him or have him carted off in a strait jacket. Scrimgeour had reached him, moving into position to shield him.
"The boy is ill, Amelia. It's sad that he can't differentiate between reality and his delusions but-."
"Delusions don't cause corpses!" Amelia shouted over him. Despite being shorter than the Minister, she managed to tower over him as she advanced. "Delusions don't cast the Cruciatus Curse!"
Fudge bristled, not backing down.
"In both cases, we had a culprit." His voice lowered in volume. "Barty Crouch Junior confessed to imperiusing Mr Krum, forcing him to use the curse on two champions." Fudge stepped up to Amelia. "It is likely that he also cursed Potter."
Scrimgeour turned from the two as they argued. He took Harry's arm and guided him behind him. Harry met his look and gave a small nod to communicate that he was alright.
"Indeed, it is likely, Cornelius. However, it is just conjecture. Questioning Mr Potter's sanity is also conjecture."
Amelia strode away from Fudge, leaving him seething before the table. She stopped behind the seat Scrimgeor had been using.
"I believe you made the same assessment of Barty Crouch Junior when you had the man Kissed without a trial. Are you going to deprive Harry Potter of his soul before he can go to Trial?"
She turned back to the Minister. All of them looked to Fudge to see his reaction to her direct insinuation that Fudge had gone above the law to silence a suspect before he could confess in a trial before the full Wizengamout. She then pulled out the seat and gestured down to it.
"By all means, question Mr Potter yourself if you are an expert in determining a suspect's mental state. More so than both Healer Travers and Unspeakable Croaker - each who said, clearly, that Mr Potter does not show signs of psychosis."
"I noticed that neither mentioned the 'Dark magic anomaly' that the results picked up. The same anomaly that Potter claims hurts him and gives him visions." Fudge retorted, raising a hand to point directly at Harry's forehead. At his scar.
Outrage screamed through Harry. Total rage roared out of him in an almost animalistic growl. Scrimgeour's hand tensed on his arm. Harry met Scrimgeour's look again, understanding then that he wasn't just there to shield him from Fudge but to also stop him from attacking the man. He couldn't protect Fudge from his words, however.
"That 'dark magic anomaly' is also where the curse that was meant to kill me deflected off. Where my mum's sacrifice saved my life!" Harry raged back, his voice raised up to match Fudge's in volume. "Show me at least some respect."
Fudge's eyes then moved to Scrimgeour. He appeared to notice that he had overstepped and had done so in front of witnesses. Harry couldn't stop now. His temper had been set loose like a caged animal with the scent of blood in its nostrils. It was going for the kill, target in its sights.
"You wouldn't even have your position as Minister if not for this ! Hell, there wouldn't even be a Ministry. Do you think Voldemort would have left you all to your jobs if he didn't blow up when he tried to kill me as a baby?" Harry jabbed a finger up at his scar, his face now bright red with his anger. "If you truly believe that I'm a sad little nutcase because of what happened to me, you have a strange way of treating me."
Harry then extended his left hand out towards Fudge, pulling against Scrimgeour's hold, wanting to shove the scars under the man's nose. Fudge's eyes narrowed on the scars and then widened. Harry gave him a humourless smile.
"I have to say, your methods are medieval. Is this how you treat victims of brain damage? With corporal punishment?"
Cornelius Fudge took a step back. His eyes were fixed on the scars on Harry's hand.
"Either way you spin this, Fudge, you look bad. Face it - either you have to come clean about mistreating a poor mentally challenged war orphan or you admit that I'm not mad and you've been slandering me publicly."
He retreated back and glanced at Scrimgeour. He caught the amused look in the man's eye and the Head Auror let go of him, pacing back around the table. He stopped at Fudge's side.
"Mr Potter does have a point, Cornelius." Scrimgeour said firmly. "And you are currently breaking protocol. The Wizengamot will not like you going outside official procedure in your efforts to prosecute a minor." He then moved behind him and went to settle down in the chair he'd been occupying previously.
Fudge stiffly looked over to Amelia, seeing her impassive, neutral expression as she passed Scrimgeour, moving to leave now that the situation had been successfully defused. She caught Harry's eye briefly, inclining her head to him, then waited in the doorway for Fudge to leave the room. The Minister bristled, his face twitching, but he knew he'd been outplayed. He swished out his pin-striped robes, turning on his heel. Before he left in a huff, Harry made sure he had the last word. He jutted out his chin, putting on his most obstinate expression and glared at the back of the leader of wizarding Britain.
"I have a right to be heard, Minister. You tried to silence me and you failed."
Fudge halted in the doorway, looking back over his shoulder. His nose twitched furiously. Harry made his way to his chair. "You can call me a liar. You can say I'm a delusional, unhinged loon. But whatever you accuse me of, it doesn't change the fact that Voldemort is back and sooner or later, he's not going to be content to wait in the shadows. He'll make his move to seize power and then you'll see just how deadly my 'delusions' can be."
He pulled out his chair and sat down. He then smirked and looked ahead at Scrimgeour.
"Any further questions?"
Mind frazzled from the lack of sleep, Hermione gazed absently at the blackboard as Professor McGonagall lectured, the chalk squeaking as she wrote down incantations. She singled out students in turn to identify the spell for each incantation. Hermione blinked slowly, her thoughts a grey static fuzz as she struggled to make sense of the squiggles on the board. She didn't register Ron pushing her arm lightly, then more roughly.
"Miss Granger?" A stern voice snapped through her befuddled thoughts and Hermione returned to the room. She jumped, seeing Professor McGonagall's disapproving face focused on her. As well as every other face in the room. Her cheeks warmed in embarrassment.
"It is not like you to not pay attention so I will ask you again. Identify the spell." The professor tapped her finger sharply on the board next to the incantation. Hermione focused on it, her mind reengaging at once.
" Vitrium ocular, " she recited the incantation, "transfigures an unenchanted wall, ceiling or floor into a window. The size and shape of the window depends on the will of the caster and the depth and dimensions of the object or substance being transfigured."
Professor McGonagall's stern expression softened when she immediately got the answer right.
"That is correct. I would, however, appreciate it if you could follow the lesson and not your personal thoughts."
With that she turned on the next student. Hermione rubbed at the bridge of her nose, a headache still throbbing. Her hand still stung as if it had been burnt, but she knew it was nothing compared to how painful Harry's hand had been. Her thoughts were preoccupied with the current meeting going on between Umbridge and the Governors. Her nerves see-sawed to excitement at the prospect of someone finally taking Umbridge down a peg or dread that they would be met with further disappointment.
In her euphoria from overhearing the meeting between Umbridge and Madame Longbottom, she had completely overlooked something incredibly important. Something that only came to her when it was staring her in the face. The Great Hall had been abuzz with activity that morning, mutters and rumours flying from mouth to ear faster than ever before. Those who had seen the Governors arriving were quick to share with the others. Those who were related to the Governors were questioned thoroughly for what they knew about their surprise appearance.
Malfoy in particular.
She froze in mid-step when she caught the flash of platinum blonde hair disappearing through to the antechamber that led off the Great Hall. She inwardly berated herself thoroughly for not twigging before now. She knew fully well that Lucius Malfoy was a Governor and that he had a lot of sway on the Board. He had managed to get Dumbledore deposed after all in second year.
Her nerves drained her appetite. She ate little breakfast and didn't speak much to Ron when he asked her if she was alright.
"Of course I'm not alright, Ronald!" She burst out at him. "You saw who arrived with the Governors!"
He stared at her, his face paling.
"He… he wouldn't do anything. Nothing that will blow his cover. He can't go after Harry without notifying the whole DMLE floor." His voice was low, panicked.
She shook her head, despairing. "It's not just Harry. Do you think Lucius Malfoy is going to willingly relinquish the hold Fudge has on Hogwarts when he has Fudge's ear and lines his pockets with his gold?"
Her harsh voice had attracted some attention then and the pair of them fell into a worried silence. Since then, Hermione couldn't concentrate on anything. It felt like they were going two steps forwards and one step back. She wasn't the only one noticeably nervous. Neville had spilled pumpkin juice on himself when his Grandmother strode through the Great Hall at the head of the Governors, her stuffed vulture hat towering over the assembly.
When she and Ron arrived in the transfiguration classroom soon after, she was sure that their professor was more agitated than usual. Hermione wasn't used to her being the subject of his disapproval and so after the slight scolding, she did her best to stay focused on the lesson after the slight scolding from McGonagall. Ron sheepishly didn't go to ask to copy her work for a change.
After the quizzing was over, they were expected to write up all the incantations and their definitions and wand movements. As the class got to writing, McGonagall swept up to Hermione.
"See me after class, Miss Granger."
She moved away after speaking to her so quietly, her whisper would not be heard. She froze. Had she been in trouble, Professor McGonagall wouldn't be so secretive. Thanks to one of the many Ministry decrees, teachers weren't allowed to talk to students about any matters that weren't about the lesson material.
Ron raised his eyebrow at her, clearly having heard what was said but neither of them spoke about it. Once the bell finally rang, Hermione murmured to Ron that she will meet him for lunch. She slowly packed her things so the class would empty out before her, then she carried her bag with her to the front of the class where Professor McGonagall was neatening up a stack of essays.
"Our Headmistress is currently very preoccupied with meetings so we have a moment at least without her… omniscience interfering." Professor McGonagall spoke without acknowledging Hermione's presence at the desk, her eyes diverted downwards to what she was doing with her hands. Her expression gave away her very evident opinions about Umbridge even if her low, discreet tone did not.
When the last student had left the room and they were alone, Professor McGonagall reached into her robes, taking out a folded letter. Hermione quickly looked over it.
"This is for you. It was sent to me through a more secure route than owl post." She held it out to her. "It is from Remus Lupin."
Lupin? Hermione was stunned. Why does he want to talk to me?
The moment her fingers touched the parchment, she knew the answer. It was about Harry. She said her thanks to the Professor and took the letter. She glanced over her shoulder, understanding that it was best to open it then and there. The contents were likely to be very confidential.
She unfolded it, seeing that the letter was very short and to the point.
Hermione,
I send this at Harry's insistence but I must be brief. Your letter to Bones has set much in motion. I am allowed to visit Harry and have done so. Rest assured, he has allies and a plan. When the Aurors come to Hogwarts, cooperate with them. You are not in trouble but you will be brought in for questioning. This is a way for us to move you out of the school safely before Umbridge and Fudge move against you and Harry.
You will be released after questioning and will have a chance to see Harry.
Do not speak to anyone about this - not even Ron. The slightest suspicion could upset our plans.
Honori leone.
Remus
She reread the note, astonished and alarmed. Her heart jumped, her imagination going wild. The Aurors were going to take her out of the school to be questioned. She shivered in fear at once at the thought of being locked in a bleak interrogation room, facing down stony aurors. Professor McGonagall took the letter from her stilled hands and incinerated it with a tap of her wand.
Instead of asking Professor McGonagall if she read the letter or knew anything more, a different question came out of her lips.
"What does 'honori leone' mean?" She asked softly. "I know ' Leone ' has a latin root for 'leo'. Lion."
Minerva smiled at the question.
"It is an ancient motto for Gryffindor. It roughly translates as 'for the honour of lions'. I believe Remus is complimenting you on your bravery and salutes you as a Gryffindor himself."
That at least answered if she had read the letter. Hermione watched the parchment curling into a crumble ash pile on the desktop.
"I daresay, Dolores will be out for blood when the Governors are done with her." Minerva said heavily. "Potter has powerful allies in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, allies who had enough with Fudge's desperate censorship and abuse of power. He and his allies have made their move."
Professor McGonagall wore then a look of fierce pride and she moved back around her desk. She nodded up at Hermione, her smile warm and genuine.
"You both do your House proud. Before this is over, both Cornelius Fudge and Dolores Umbridge will learn that you never silence a lion's roar."
Hermione smiled back. Her words ignited her courage once again. Whatever she faced, she would face it with her back straight and her determination unshaken. Harry never backed down and neither would she.
And I'll be able to see him!
"Thank you, professor, though I'm… a little worried that the Governors may not want to move against the Ministry," she said, voicing her anxieties. "Having Umb- Professor Umbridge as Headmistress may suit their personal agendas."
Professor McGonagall eyed her closely and then rested her hands together, sighing in response.
"Indeed, however, I believe Cornelius has made too many enemies in his attempt to stifle his opposition. One well-financed supporter will not be enough."
She gave Hermione a meaningful look, communicating that she knew precisely which Governor she was alluding to.
"Stay strong and good luck. Give my best to Potter."
Hermione nodded, understanding the dismissal. "I will." She turned away.
Head swirling with thoughts, Hermione rushed through the corridors. Her feet clattered on the flagstones as she swept past idling students to make her way to the Great Hall. She was desperate to tell Ron about the development, that Harry was gathering allies, but Remus's note was clear in her mind. She couldn't tell him. While she trusted him, he wasn't exactly the most subtle person she knew.
She came to an abrupt halt when she arrived in the Entrance Hall. An interested crowd had formed by the hourglasses, where the main noticeboard was hung imperiously up on the wall. She spotted Ginny, Ron, Fred and George very visible in the crowd with their matching red-heads. She squeezed her way through to reach them, looking up at the noticeboard as she did. Her progress stuttered as she froze, seeing exactly what had drawn the attention.
Three Ministry Decrees had been taken down from where they were previously proudly set in pride of place. Their gaps between the others were stark. Hermione gasped hoarsely when she noticed exactly which ones were missing. The decree that forbade teachers to talk to students about matters outside their learning, the decree that banned the Quibbler and most importantly of all, the decree that named Umbridge as the Headmistress. Her loud gasp caught Ginny's attention, who turned with a huge grin on her face. She grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her over.
"Filch took those down during the third period," Ginny whispered to Hermione, "Fred and George watched him. He also replaced Decree Twenty Four. It's been amended." Ginny pointed up to the decree in question. "Take a look."
She did, looking up.
"All Student Organisations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs must be approved by the High Inquisitor. No Student Organisation, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor. Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organisation, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be subject to disciplinary action determined by the Head of the student's House. "
Hermione put her hand over her mouth, absolutely stunned.
"But… but that means that they can't expel Harry… or any of us!"
"Yep," Fred said, overhearing them. "Umbridge isn't in the Great Hall, looking all high and mighty, so I'm guessing she's sulking in her office."
Hermione caught Ron's look. He looked as dazed as she felt. Hearing voices picking up behind her, she turned, seeing Professor Flitwick making his way over, his hat barely visible.
"Oh… oh! " The small Charms professor was just as shocked as the rest of them as he blinked up at the noticeboard. Professor Sprout and Professor Vector had followed him from the Great Hall. Everyone moved aside to let them pass, watching avidly to see their reactions.
"The Governors must be displeased indeed to exert their authority," Professor Vector said as she tapped her chin thoughtfully.
Hermione looked over to Professor Vector.
"Is it true, professor?" She asked. "Have the Governors really overruled Umbri- Professor Umbridge?" She hastily covered her near mistake. Overhearing her, the gathered students whispered and gasped in surprise.
"It does seem that way, Hermione," she replied primly, sharing a smile with Professor Sprout.
"The Governors?"
"Did Granger say the Governors did this?"
Chatter rose up in volume. Ron slid up to Hermione's side, taking her sleeve and nudging her over.
"Is that what McGonagall wanted to talk to you about?" He asked quietly. Hermione looked over, seeing that the professors were returning to the Great Hall now that they had seen what the source of the commotion was. They hadn't told them to disperse and Hermione was aware that now more students were keen to overhear them now that she made it clear that she knew more about the miraculous turn of events than anyone else.
"No… something else." She said, but didn't reiterate. "Come on, let's go and get lunch." She raised her eyebrow meaningfully. Ron nodded, understanding, and they left the thinning crowd. Ginny was close behind.
"Did you see that the decree naming Umbridge as Headmistress is gone?" Ginny said, catching up to them. "That must be why Dumbledore's office didn't open for her. The School doesn't recognise her as the Head. There must be a rule that she didn't know about! One that overrules her and Fudge."
Hermione shared a look with Ron. They hadn't filled in their friends on what Hermione had overheard in Umbridge's office, everyone else having gone to bed by the time Hermione made it back to the Common Room.
"The Board of Governors decide on who becomes the Headmaster and vote on it. It's always been done that way." Neville said, speaking in Hermione's place. "The Ministry must have gone behind their backs to put Umbridge in charge."
They reached the Gryffindor table and took seats, settling down.
"Ha! Serves them right." Ron said when he threw himself down. "I wonder who they'll choose then. It has to be McGonagall right? She's the deputy head."
More of their classmates were coming to join them. Seamus and Dean sat opposite, trying to not make it obvious that they were after information.
"The Governors must really not agree with her if they changed so many decrees." Ginny said, buttering up some toast. "Just think what the Governors might do if they find out that Umbridge hasn't let us practise a single spell the whole time she's been 'teaching'."
"Can they fire her?" Dean asked, giving away that he was eavesdropping. Ron nodded, beating Hermione to it.
"Yeah. They got Dumbledore to step down in second year, remember? If they can get rid of a Headmaster, I bet they can do the same with her."
They excitedly discussed the likelihood of Umbridge being outed. Hermione searched the hall for the other members of the DA. Her gaze caught on the Hufflepuff table, seeing Susan Bones chatting with Hannah Abbott. Their eyes met across the hall. At once, Susan got up from her seat and headed over to them. Hannah and Justin Finch-Fletchley followed, both looking excited and also apprehensive. Hermione got up, brushing off her fingers on her napkin, and intercepted them.
"I need to talk to you, Hermione," Susan said before she could ask. Hermione then saw that she held a letter in her hands. "This is from my Aunt - you know, Amelia Bones?"
"Yes. I know she's the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," she said in a hushed voice. And I wrote to her about the DA.
"That's right. She… knows that I was in the DA," Susan said, wincing, "but she's not angry. In fact, she's told me that she will be sending someone to the school to question us about the group. About its real purpose."
Hermione's mind raced as she looked down at the letter.
"And with the amends of the decree, it doesn't matter if we admit to what we were doing. It's no longer punishable by expulsion." She found herself saying.
Susan nodded eagerly. "I think my Aunt might have something to do with the Governors being here. She'd listen to Harry - I know she would. Aunt Amelia believes him about you-know-who."
As she spoke with Susan, Hermione didn't notice Umbridge arriving in the Great Hall, not until the pockets of conversation in the hall died one-by-one. Hermione looked around, seeing a very angry Umbridge trudging into the room from the side-door, accompanied by none other than Neville's grandmother.
" Hem hem. " Umbridge's ridiculous cough had all heads swerving over to her direction. "Students, may I have your attention please?"
Hermione and the Hufflepuffs shared a look and went to return to their seats, knowing that being caught talking about such things was far from wise. When Hermione sat down, the whole hall was deadly silent. She looked for Neville to see his reaction at his grandmother. He looked just as shocked as everyone else.
"This is Augusta Longbottom, Senior Governor for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Umbridge sniffed after she introduced the witch. "Madame Longbottom, you wished to speak to the school?"
Neville noticeably flushed as faces flicked in his direction, everyone picking up that he was related to the elderly, dour witch.
"Indeed I do, Madame Umbridge."
Hermione smirked subtly. 'Madame', not 'Professor'.
"As you have no doubt all noticed, the Board of Governors have convened here today and have made corrections to a number of Educational Decrees that were unauthorised. One of them being the unapproved posting of Headmistress."
Umbridge swelled, her eyes hardening with anger. Hermione grinned at once. She could see her expression mirrored throughout the hall.
"The Board will deliberate on choosing an appropriate candidate for the position now vacated by Professor Dumbledore and recognises Madame Umbridge's petition for the position. In the meantime, we acknowledge the Deputy Headmistress as Acting Headmistress until a decision is made. The school will remain open under her authority."
Umbridge's face was now a puce colour as she twitched with rage. Madame Longbottom coolly looked over to Umbridge before addressing the head table.
Her announcement had cheers erupting down the table where Fred and George were sitting. Hermione looked up at the table at once, seeing Professor McGonagall acknowledge the news with a faint smile. Professor Sprout and Flitwick then clapped. Hagrid's huge hands thundered in applause, triggering the room to erupt with sound. Hermione beamed at Ron as they joined in. It didn't feel real.
"We also believe that expulsion as a punishment should always be determined following a Disciplinary Hearing and that no figure, no matter their political backing, has the autonomous decision over a magical child's future." Madame Longbottom gave Umbridge a withering look and turned to face the hall.
"We have disbanded the Inquisitorial Squad. No student should have authority over Prefects and Head students who are chosen specifically with the Board's approval.
Small barks of laughter sounded around the room. Ron twisted around, sneering over at the Slytherins. "That is all." She then lifted her head to look over her shoulder to Professor McGonagall
Umbridge then stormed up to the head table, indicating that their announcements were concluded. She didn't take the seat that she so smugly lorded over from the previous day, instead taking the one beside it, leaving the Head chair empty.
"Blimey, Nev. I don't want to ever get on the wrong side of your gran!" Seamus suddenly exclaimed. Neville watched his grandmother make her way to Professor McGonagall, his expression pensive and his face pale.
"She is really angry," he observed softly.
"If the Governors have the power to overrule Umbridge, why wait until now?" Ron asked once he cleared his mouth of scrambled egg. "She's been lording over the school for months now."
Neville nodded behind Ron, making him turn around. Hermione followed his point, seeing the Slytherin table. Her eyes fell on a sallow looking Malfoy, appearing oddly subdued. She noticed that he'd removed his Inquisitorial Squad badge.
"Because not all the Governors agree." Neville said darkly. "I know from gran that she's had a few rows with Lucius Malfoy about the running of the school. Some believed a bit of Ministry intervention was just what the school needed."
Hermione looked over to the head table and felt her blood run cold when she saw Umbridge glaring over in their direction. Remembering then that the DMLE had plans to move her out from under Umbridge's tyranny, she grabbed Ron's arm.
"She isn't going to take this well. And neither is Lucius Malfoy." She said quietly, looking into his eyes and watched as his euphoria ebb out of him as he realised what she was implying. He glanced up at Umbridge and then bit his lip, looking away. His eyes dropped down to her left hand. The skin was still a little pink but nothing compared to the open wounds Harry had been left with.
"Susan told me that her aunt wrote to her. Her aunt - the head of the department that has Harry in custody," she continued. "She's on Harry's side."
Ron looked at her, surprised. Then his eyes widened, looking back over to the head table. Madame Longbottom was taking her leave. She purposefully strode down past the Gryffindor table, moving behind Neville, who stiffened in his seat.
"Hello Gran."
"Neville." She greeted primly, giving him a nod, then she nodded over to Hermione. Her expression was impassive as she then continued, causing murmurs to kick up again in her wake. Umbridge glowered, still looking as if she had eaten a lemon.
"Bloody hell…" Ron gasped softly. "Hermione… do you know what this means? The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is one of the only people in the Ministry who has the power to force a 'vote of no confidence' against the Minister."
Hermione's eyes went round.
"She can unseat Fudge?"
"Yeah… well… she would have to put her case before the full Wizengamot and they get the final say. It hasn't happened in years as most Ministers either get voted out at the next term or retire." He put his cutlery down, staring at his plate in shock. " Shit… " He cursed, his face pale behind his freckles. "If Harry can somehow prove that Fudge and Umbridge are covering up the truth about you-know-who, you bet that'll be enough to get Fudge off the top seat."
Hermione felt electrified at Ron's words. She knew that was precisely what Harry was trying to achieve. She'd read the proof in Remus's hand. She bit on her lip, feeling awful for not confirming it.
An owl suddenly swooped in the room, catching everyone's attention. While late post wasn't exactly rare, making a beeline towards the head table was. The owl itself was incredibly ominous with black plumage. It dropped a letter in front of Umbridge before leaving. Her sulking expression drained away at once as she snatched up the letter.
"That can't be good." Ron remarked at Hermione's side. She agreed, nerves prickling through her.
Umbridge's surly face split into a hideous smile. She rose from her seat, pushing her chair back. The chatter in the hall immediately diminished as she left her position, ignoring all the questioning, suspicious and anxious looks coming her way. Hermione held her breath, knowing that there could only be one piece of news that would please Umbridge after losing her authority on the school.
When the nasty, savage eyes of Dolores Umbridge targeted her in particular, Hermione was certain. She drew in a sharp breath and leaned towards Ron.
"Whatever this is, we have to cooperate. We can't make things worse for Harry." She whispered to him. Ron's eyes widened in response but he said nothing as the buzzing in the room got louder as Umbridge made her way towards them, taking the same path Madame Longbottom had done. She reached them, gripping the letter in her ringed fingers, her smile board and vicious. Professor McGonagall had then left her seat.
"Miss Granger, I do not wish to make a scene. Come with me quietly to the Entrance Hall and the Aurors will escort you off the school premises without an audience." Umbridge said in her most sweet, sickly voice.
Ron went to stand, pushing his plate back. Hermione rested her hand on his arm warningly. She just nodded in response, ignoring the sudden heavy silence ringing around her. She picked up her bag.
"You will not need your bag, Miss Granger. You are wanted for questioning. We will see to it that your belongings return to your dormitory." Hermione dropped her bag down to the bench with a purposeful thud. She then stepped back, lifting her chin. She saw Ron grab her bag and shared a look. He knew she had Harry's Invisibility Cloak in her bag.
"Come along." Umbridge said, eagerly daring to put a hand on Hermione's shoulder to guide her out of the hall. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing Professor McGonagall following quickly. She reached them just before they made it to the door.
"Dolores, I do hope what you hold in your hand is a sanctioned warrant." Professor McGonagall hissed when she loomed over Umbridge.
"Why of course, Minerva."
They stepped into the empty Entrance Hall. The doors shut behind them but they all heard the uproar from the students before the sound was abruptly cut off. Umbridge's grip on Hermione's shoulder tightened and she led her to the huge doors that opened out into the grounds. Hermione saw the furious look on Professor McGonagall's face at Umbridge manhandling her but she didn't speak.
They had to maintain the ruse.
"You may think you have us outwitted, Minerva. You and Dumbledore both." Umbridge's voice dropped the sweet facade. "But you play a dangerous game if you believe you can move against the Ministry."
McGonagall's nostrils flared but she leveled Umbridge with a cool look.
"I have no idea what you are talking about, Dolores. My concern is and has always been for the students in my care. If I believe their welfare is being threatened, then I will act without hesitation. As a Professor, you should share that sentiment and value their education over your politics."
Before Umbridge could round on her, a rushing sound announced the arrival of a portkey outside the castle doors. The doors then swung open to admit the arrival of the next round of guests to the castle. Red robes swished around the group, all dressed in their Auror uniforms. They moved in an arrow formation as if charging into a fight.
Hermione's eyes locked onto Kingsley at once. His head inclined in her direction.
"Your hypocrisy will be exposed soon enough, Minerva." Umbridge trimuphantly grinned with no shame as the Aurors moved into position, surrounding them. "The Ministry's investigation into the conspiracy plot extends far beyond Potter and his little cabal. We will weed out every single traitor in our midsts. Robards?"
Umbridge addressed one of the Aurors, his expression grim as he nodded and moved to McGonagall's side.
"Professor, we have a warrant to search the castle and take witness statements," he informed her. "This will not be disruptive if we have everyone's cooperation."
"Understood, Gawain," Minerva said stiffly. Hermione felt a surge of relief to hear that she was on first name terms with the Auror. "And I assume you are here to take Miss Granger to the Ministry."
"That is my job, Minerva." Kingsley then spoke, moving up to Hermione and Umbridge. "Miss, you will accompany me. Don't be afraid. You aren't in trouble. We only wish to ask you a few questions regarding your involvement with Harry Potter"
It was easy enough to act scared. Even though she knew Kingsley, he was still intimidating enough. Umbridge let go of her as Kingsley held out an arm to indicate that she was to go with him. She stepped up to him, taking a deep breath. His eyes gleamed appraisingly when she steeled her spine and held her head high. She ignored Umbridge's self-satisfied smile, though she relished in the thought that she would soon be under fire herself.
She looked back over her shoulder as she stepped out of Entrance Hall into the crisp spring air. Her eyes met Professor McGonagall's. Her heart soared at the look the Acting Headmistress was sending her way. Her fierce pride set off Hermione's steely determination.
It didn't matter who the threat really was. If Cornelius Fudge and his paranoia were the culprits or if he was a puppet dancing to Lucius Malfoy's strings, they both would find themselves locked in a fight. Dumbledore was willing to let them get away with it, let them chip away at his reputation and his power to keep himself free from further scrutiny while he worked in the shadows. He played his game and he lost. But he wasn't the only player. Unlike him, Hermione was determined to not flee before a fight. She would stand at Harry's side and look their enemies in the eye.
And they would go to war.