Holy cow – was this fun to write! Feel free to skip over the Quibbler article in this chapter – it is merely a quick history of Voldemort and adds nothing new. It's just handy to review if you haven't read the books in a while.
My sincere thanks and groveling to my betas Spacegal 19 and Romulus Magnus – ya'll just don't know how illiterate I really am thanks to these two!
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Chapter 13
Confessions of a Hat
The semester started swimmingly. With the influence of the cursed objects in his classroom negated, Snape was a more patient and fair teacher to all of his students, though one couldn't call him warm by any stretch of the imagination. Harry, Hermione, Luna and Neville met in Godric's Suitcase several times a week for prolonged lessons, and soon were just as proficient in goblin occlumency and elf magic as Harry and Hermione. They kept well ahead in their homework, were studying self-defense as a group, and getting ready to work on a spying project with the ghosts.
Dobby, to his shame, was unable to find the book Malfoy had been boasting about, but he clung to the secret passages surrounding the Slytherin house, and made many reports back to Harry as to who was contemplating taking the Dark Mark, and rumors of upcoming raids.
Harry enlisted the help of the luggage store he bought Godric's Suitcase at to figure out permanent shielding charms against Mad-Eye Moody's magical eye. Luck smiled down on him – the manufacturer of the trunk happened to know the wizard that made magical eyes, and was able, with generous greasing of the palms, to work with him to come up with a solution. The trunk would now look like any other school trunk on the inside to Moody if he happened to be in the boy's dorm looking.
It was early evening; the last week of September, and the fearsome foursome were sitting around on the leather couches and chairs in Harry's trunk. Luna and Neville were playing with LEGO, Hermione studying a book sipping a cup of tea, and Harry working on a potion. Hermione looked up from her book, and let her gaze fall on Harry, and felt her cheeks flush with warmth. She liked looking at him. His shoulders were growing broader with age, though he was still slender and wiry in build. His hair was as hopeless as was her own, but his emerald eyes had a disconcerting habit of making her totally lose all train of thought when gazing at her. Their weeks of occlumency during the summer had driven them impossibly close, and there was a comfortable intimacy between the two of them, similar to the comfort a couple married for years shared, without a rushed physical relationship. They were a couple, and would be for all time, starting when the time was right.
The century's youngest seeker seemed to feel eyes upon him, as he stood up and stretched, and instinctively looked over to Hermione. He returned her smile and joined her on the couch, gratefully accepting a cup of tea from Winky who brought it without a word.
"Do you have that hair from Ginny?" Harry asked Hermione.
The bushy-haired witch reached into her satchel and brought out a folded piece of parchment. "It's in here. Please tell me that's not polyjuice potion?"
Harry gave a chuckle. "Nope – it's a repelling potion. I drink it, once I add her hair, and she won't be able to stand me. Do you want me to make one for you to repel Ron? It's permanent until you drink the cancellation potion."
Hermione giggled. "No, I want to convince him on my own I can't stand him anymore. But thanks."
Harry walked over to the caldron, added the hair that was in the folded parchment, and eyed the cauldron. "Look's tastier than polyjuice at least" he muttered. With a wince, he scooped out a vial and downed it in one gulp. "Ah – instant break-up" he nodded smugly.
"Hey Winky, do you have any idea if Dumbledore is in the castle at the moment?" Harry asked her. The elf gazed upward and inward for a moment and replied "no, master, he has just left according to the elves."
"Heh heh! Watch this, guys!" Harry laughed evilly. He took a dinner napkin and waved his custom wand over it, and to everyone's delight, held a duplicate of the sorting hat in his hands. "Winky, my friend – could you put this in Dumbledore's office for me, and bring back the real hat?"
With a curtsey and a smile, she took the imitation hat and disappeared, returning in a moment with the battered and torn hat of the ancient wizard Gryffindor. Harry took the hat reverently from the elf, and Hermione gave her a hug of appreciation.
"Bee still under your bonnet, Potter?" The hat growled almost playfully.
"Nope. Just have a bunch of questions for you, if that's ok with you" Harry said, as the four leaned over to listen.
"Go for it" the hat said. "I've been bored to tears lately. Or is it bored to tears, as in torn? Heh heh."
"Does the headmaster influence your choice at all, when sorting students?" Harry eyed him earnestly.
The hat made an unmistakable growl now. "Yes, as the school itself is bound to the headmaster, so am I. He can communicate with me silently, and can tell me his desires, even if I don't agree. And sometimes I decide on my own to place a student in a less than perfect house, because of the pressures they would get from family."
"Were the four of us sorted correctly?" Neville asked. His face fell – he had never felt he was a proper Gryffindor, and many unkind students agreed with that assessment.
Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood are in their proper houses. That's not to say that they don't have a balance of all the house's traits. All four of you have strong traits of each of the founders – that's what each student in Hogwarts should be aiming for. However, the headmaster had me put Miss Granger and Mr. Longbottom in Gryffindor against my better judgment, and it wasn't for good reasons.
"I was supposed to be a Hufflepuff, wasn't I" Neville stated sadly, looking down with flaming cheeks.
The hat reared back and practically spat at him "and what is wrong with Hufflepuff? Aye – that is your true house, and it is nothing to be ashamed of. Helga Hufflepuff, wife of Gryffindor, was the most loving and loyal of the four. She kept the other three's feet on the ground, and was their source of inspiration when Salazar ran out of schemes, when Godric's courage ran low, and when Rowena's books and notes failed her. Hufflepuff was a powerful witch, and not the rubbish bin for half-squibs that people call her house now."
Neville's whole demeanor changed in front of them – he suddenly sat taller, prouder and fiercer. He radiated confidence not shown before. "I apologize, hat. You are right. Why did the headmaster want me in the wrong house?"
The hat scrunched forward in scorn. "He wanted you near Potter, to keep Potter humble, knowing he'd learn the false prophecy sooner or later, and feel he was no better than you, weakened by guilt. He had made sure you would be using a wand not matched to your magical core, and manipulated your Grandmother to keep you weak and unsteady. You could have been the chosen one, Longbottom, but Riddle chose Potter instead. You are powerful and worthy of being one of this four. Dumbledore has much to answer for with his meddling."
"Everyone says I should have been a Ravenclaw" Hermione sighed.
"And everyone is wrong" the hat quipped snidely. "You are the classic Slytherin, my dear.
"SLYTHERIN?" The four shouted in unison.
"Look, kids, I've been singing this for years. Don't you listen at the feasts? Salazar wasn't evil. He wasn't even mean. He was ambitious. Tell me a more ambitious witch or wizard you've met, than Miss Granger here?" The hat was practically shaking with emotion.
Hermione wore the look of one whose puzzle pieces were all clicking into place. "I AM a Slytherin!" she cried. "It feels… right!"
"Well, this should feel right, too" the hat laughed. "I hope you four figured out that you are the founders, back to lead Hogwarts?"
The room resounded with deafening silence. They all stared at the hat, mouths open, stupid expressions on their faces. The hat quoted for them:
"The young man will find
Three close friends
They cannot be parted.
They were together at the founding of the school"
"…Come on – do we have to spell it out?" The hat crowed at them. "Dumbledore is a jerk, but he realized the founders would be coming back after some of the stuff he's pulled over the last 50 years. He had feelings about the four of you, and decided to keep half of you from your proper houses. I think he also put you, Miss Granger, in Gryffindor as part of a payment to Ronald Weasley if he would agree to put his rather massive ego aside and befriend the poor orphaned Potter."
"Um, I don't feel like Salazar Slytherin is in my head and or um, body" Hermione stuttered nervously, with Neville nodding in tense agreement.
"No, you misunderstand me, kids" the hat smirked. You each embody all the perfect attributes of the founder of the house you should have been in, or are in. You, Miss Granger, are not the reincarnation of Salazar, nor related in any way by blood. You are the perfect example of a Slytherin student."
"Boy, I can just hear Malfoy now" Harry laughed.
The hat continued, "Every once in a while a student will come to Hogwarts who is the spiritual heir of a founder, like you four are. To have all four be here at the same time is a rare occurrence. It hasn't happened in hundreds of years."
"What are we suppose to do?" Luna asked mildly. "I don't think the headmaster will hand over the keys to his tower office if we walk up and ask him."
The hat chuckled. "No, Miss Lovegood, indeed he wouldn't. It's not the proper time to kick old Dumbledore out. You four need to learn all you can, strengthen your magic and make yourselves strong, and finish what they currently call for education here. The ghosts will be your private tutors – you can call them anytime. When you have completed training with them, Hogwarts herself will lead you to your next teachers."
"Is Hogwarts sentient?" Neville asked.
"Yes" the hat said. "At the moment she won't talk to you like I can, but she will warn you, protect you, and obey you all. Right now, try asking her, in your heads, to keep you informed when Dumbledore or ill-meaning people come near your towers."
Harry cleared his mind and sent out a thought. "Hogwarts, can you hear me?" He could feel it – a gentle touch in his mind of a large and kind awareness. It was the closest thing to a 'yes' he could imagine without the words. "Hogwarts, please warn me if Dumbledore or anyone wishing me harm comes near the Gryffindor tower. I will be spending a lot of time in my trunk from now on. If Dumbledore asks you where I am at these times, please tell him I'm in my tower or in bed or something like that. And please let me know if Professor Moody ever comes into our dorm room." He felt the very walls and foundation of the building agree with his requests.
Almost in unison the four breathed out "wow." It was obvious they all had a similar experience.
"Thank you, Sorting Hat" Luna said, with a formal air, "When we fulfill our destiny you will be treated with more respect."
"I truly look forward to that time" the hat growled, and Harry could swear it puckered its fabric so that it winked at them.
Winky was asked to switch the hat back again, and the new founders of Hogwarts sat and discussed for many hours the implications of what they learned.
O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0oWith the aid of time slowing the fearsome foursome were gaining in strength and knowledge at an astounding rate. The hardest thing at times was keeping their power low key, so as not to arouse anyone's suspicion. Harry popped to Knockturn Alley with Luna and Neville to buy them wands, and Hogsmeade to get them armor, and they were delighted with the lovely gifts. A few weeks later, Luna was the proud owner of an intricately carved wand, inlaid with amethysts and made out of the bone from a sphinx. Its core was sphinx and fairy hair, and it was capped with a pale and flashing amethyst. Neville was now paired with a wand carved of pale holly, with carved holly leaves twisting up the sides and berries of blood red amber. It was capped with white sapphire, like Harry's, and had a core of wolf hair and magical goose feathers.
Neville was in Godric's Suitcase soon after, lazily flicking his new wand and watching it pulverize a couple articles of Dudley's old clothing Harry had scrounged up for him to play with. "I can't get over how powerful this wand is, Harry" he practically cooed. "It's so hard not to use it for classes."
"The wand isn't powerful, Nev. It's you, mate. A wand is just an instrument to focus your magic. You weren't focused with your old wand, and not as focused with your replacement wand." Harry smiled at him, looking up from a homework essay.
Hermione and Luna popped in. "What's up?" Hermione asked, as she noticed the relaxed atmosphere in the room. "I want to call the Bloody Baron and see about lessons." Frowning gently, she sent a silent message, and the frightening ghost of Slytherin appeared before them.
"How may I be of service" he asked, with a formal yet cordial tone.
"I'd like to start lessons, sir." Hermione answered. "We need some way to spy on the headmaster, please."
Flashback
Professor Dumbledore sat at his desk in his tower, sharing a cup of tea with Harry sitting across from him. It was the first private meeting of the school year.
"So my boy" he twinkled away at him, "tell me how Hogwarts is treating you so far."
Harry strengthened his mental shields. "Fine, sir. I'm enjoying Runes, and Hagrid isn't hurt that I dropped out of Magical Creatures."
"Any more pain from your scar, or visions from Voldemort?" Dumbledore looked at him intently.
"No sir. It's been a thankfully quiet since the", and Harry paused a moment, "Ministry. You must have hurt him in your duel."
Dumbledore looked pleased at that. "Do let me know if you sense anything out him. We need to be constantly alert."
"Sir?" Harry looked at him reluctantly. "Could I possibly get some advanced training from an auror or something? I really don't feel like I'm doing enough to prepare for meeting Voldemort."
The headmaster gave him the condescending grandfather act. "Now Harry, my boy, just study hard and work with Professor Snape on occlumency. You will be plenty strong when the time comes."
With that, Harry felt himself dismissed.
End flashback
"Ah" the Baron smiled. "It's time for art lessons then. Send your good elf to Diagon Alley to pick up the following supplies: 2 magical canvas's, one 2" x 2", and the other 3' x 4', magical paint set – beginners, with all the supplies to go with, and the book 'Beginner Painting for Wizards' by Cyril T. Wombat."
Winky looked over from scrubbing a pot and smiled at Harry. "I'll go now, kind master" and popped away. She returned in a short time with all the supplies.
The Baron gestured how to set up the easel and started teaching the kids, Hermione in particular, paint-related spells. "What are we painting, sir?" Hermione ask while squeezing out blobs of paint on a pallet.
"Windows" the Baron answered.
Sure enough, after days of lessons (which in reality took the shortest of time), Hermione ended up painting a tiny rendition of a small window, casement style with no panes in it, and a large picture window, again minus the mullions. The Baron was actually a fantastic teacher – witty with dry humor, but deep and intellectual, with a wonderful impish love of practical jokes. Hermione in particular really hit it off with him.
Wiping paint off a brush with a rag, she glanced over at the Baron and asked "by the way, everyone is dying to know who's blood that is splattered all over you – your's or someone else's?"
"Heh" the ghost chuckled dryly. "People have been asking for generations – why would I tell?"
"Because we are founders?" Luna batted her eyelashes at the Baron in a most un-Luna-ish fashion. Neville gulped when he saw it – the two of them had really been drawing closer, and he was highly aware of the witch's feminine charms.
"OK" the Baron laughed. "The infamous day of my death. I was a merchant and owned a few ships. I met one of the ships when it docked from the New World, with a hold full of rum, molasses and sugar. I was getting ready to inspect the goods when a rope broke and dropped several barrels of molasses, all of which broke, one of which upon my head. No more Baron."
"You mean those terrifying stains are MOLASSES?" Hermione yelped. Harry and Neville collapsed in gales of laughter. Luna looked unperturbed as usual.
The Baron laughed right along with them. "Oh, don't get me wrong - I was a powerful wizard and quite the dueler. But I was also an ambitious man who made his own fortune. It is rather fun to see how terrified the first years and Peeves are of me – I'm really a pussycat."
"Your secret is safe with us – keep on terrifying 'em" Hermione snickered, and picked up her next brush.
When the paintings were finished and given time to cure, the Baron taught them many spells to say over them, which Luna took copious notes of. They stood back and looked, waiting to see what would happen. It was after the magical glow faded, they realized they were looking at themselves in the large painting, the small window dark and blank. The large painting's images moved like a mirror, and annoyingly echoed the sounds in the room too.
"Oh – I get it!" Luna cried, and at the same time Hermione said, "The little one is a camera!"
"Very good" the Baron beamed at the witches. You can hide the little one anywhere in Dumbledore's office – it's such a mess he'd never notice it on a shelf, or stuck onto one of the portraits. I've taken the liberty of asking them and they are all offering their own canvas's to host your spy window if you so choose."
Neville blushed furiously and Luna raised an eyebrow at him. "No, Neville, you may not place it in our dormitory" and she got up and walked to the kitchen area.
Harry tried not to giggle, but failed miserably. He grabbed his father's invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map and searched for Dumbledore, who was missing from Hogwarts. "Super – Hermione – please put a sticking charm on the back of this" and he held out the tiny 'camera' canvas to her. She waved her wand over it and nodded to him. "I'll be right back. Get ready for home movies!" And he popped away.
O0o0o0o0o0o0o
It was an interesting week. Anytime the foursome was not in classes or meals or school related activities, they were in Godric's Suitcase monitoring the spy canvas, with out a shred of decent guilt. Harry sent Winky out for Quick Quote Quills and stacks of blank parchment, which were charmed to make records of all conversations held in the office so it wouldn't have to be monitored all the time. Only two days after Harry hid the camera canvas on a much-cluttered shelf in Dumbledore's office, they had the immense pleasure of watching Ron storm into the tower, demanding a meeting with the headmaster.
The four founderettes were sitting in a row on a magically expanded couch, facing the large canvas, gratefully accepting huge bowls of excellent popcorn supplied by Winky, who was use to the routine by now. "What's on the telly?" Hermione laughed.
"Looks like a penguin" Harry chortled in his best Monty Python impersonation, which was poor at best.
Luna and Neville looked at the two of them in puzzlement, and then at each other trying to figure it out. "Must be muggle talk" Luna shrugged. "Hmmmm" Neville agreed around a mouthful of popcorn.
Ron slammed his hands down on Dumbledore's desk, trying to get his attention. Dumbledore looked up, the customary twinkle most certainly missing from his eyes. "May I help you, Mr. Weasley?" he said in a most unhelpful voice.
"How long do I have to put up with this? And when can I start spending that money? I'm so sick of Harry's uppity face, and the years of hand-me-downs and used garbage for school was murder. At least I have good clothes now thanks to Black. I'm an eighteenth generation pureblood wizard, dammit – when can I start living like one."
"Sit down, Mr. Weasley. You already know the answers to those questions." Dumbledore looked less than happy to be spelling it out for the furious redhead. You will befriend Mr. Potter until I say so – he needs a close friend to support him until the time comes for him to duel the dark lord. You may start spending your money, which is being held in a trust account, after his duel. Before then people like Harry or your parents will want to know where your money came from. Is there anything else?"
"Why me. He seems to enjoy Neville's company more than mine. I can't stand being around him any more. I don't see him around much anyway – he's always disappearing somewhere." Ron was practically whining now.
"He keeps company with Neville?" Dumbledore looked disturbed. "Try to discourage that – I don't want them being close friends. No – that won't do at all. Besides," he looked sharply at Ron, "from what I hear and see you aren't doing your job very well. You are hardly ever seen with him."
"That's another thing" Ron interrupted, getting bold again. "What about Hermione? You promised her to me. She won't talk to me at all anymore. She's going to the ball with Harry! I thought that locket was fool proof. Who's the fool, I wonder?"
The headmaster looked furious, shocked, and insulted all at once. "Miss Granger is going with Mr. Potter?" He asked, flummoxed.
"Harry asked her the moment it was announced" Ron growled. "She said yes with no hesitation".
"Does she still wear your locket?" Dumbledore asked.
"I dunno – can't see under her robes." Ron whined. "I want her. I don't want to marry her – she's not proper for a pureblood, but she's so feisty – I want to have some fun."
Harry glared with white-hot fury at Ron, and Sirius hissed from his portrait on the wall.
The twinkle came back to Dumbledore's eyes, as he offered a muggle sweet to Ron, who took it without thinking.
"You know – I bet his candy is drugged" Luna observed.
"Luna, you really are brilliant – how about going to the ball with me?" Neville asked, handing her the popcorn and looking longingly in her eyes.
"Of course I will" Luna smiled, and gave the happy Neville a kiss on the cheek.
"Shhhhh! "Hermione hissed "I don't want to miss what 'lover boy' has to say. The look Hermione was giving Ron as he discussed her could have burned a hole in the canvas or castrated a Norwegian Ridgeback.
"I will have a talk with Harry, and your sister. I want him with Ginny and you for now. Do what you can to discourage these unfortunate relationships."
Ron nodded submissively and slunk out of the tower office, with a bit of a stagger in his walk.
"Yep – definitely something in the candy" Neville quipped. "Glad you don't fancy that git any more, Hermione."
"Yah, me too" Hermione glared at the headmaster in the portrait. "I owe that red-headed weasel big time."
Harry was scowling at Dumbledore with a dangerous expression. "They both are due some payback, but now is not the time."
O0o0o0o0o0o0o
Neville and Luna were having a good snog on the couch in Godric's Suitcase, charmed for time slowing, when they heard a commotion coming from the spy window into Dumbledore's office. Ginny Weasley had just come into the room and was looking at the headmaster with bored indifference, touched with an edge of anger.
"Harry, Hermione? If you aren't busy you might want to watch what's on the telly" Neville sent to his mind.
"Coming" they both answered at once, and apparated into Godric's Suitcase. Winky started on the popcorn.
"Ah, Yes Miss Weasley" Dumbledore twinkled at her. "Thanks for coming, please sit down. Lemon drop?" He offered her a bowl of sweets, smiling benignly at her.
"Don't do it – they are tainted!" The four kids laughed and threw popcorn at the canvas.
"Thank you, headmaster" she said primly, taking a lemon drop and sucking on it. She instantly appeared calmer, less edgy.
"Now, tell me, Miss Weasley. How is it going with Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore twinkled at her even more.
"How does he do that annoying eye-twinkle thingy?" asked Harry. "Will we have to do that when we become the headmasters?"
"Dunno" Hermione answered. "Charmed eyeglasses? Not worth researching in the library for."
"That's a first – Hermione NOT wanting to research something" Neville laughed.
Luna looked amused. "Anything to make sure we look different from Professor Dumbledore might be worth looking into."
"I don't know" Sirius broke in from his portrait. "I think the eye twinkle would look cute on you cub."
Harry responded by grinning and tossing some popcorn at his godfather.
Ginny looked down in her lap and frowned. "Absolutely nothing is going on with Harry. He is totally uninterested in me. I've thrown myself at him many times, and he turns me down flat. He asked Granger to the ball. Honestly, I really don't want him anymore. He's almost repulsive to look at."
Harry nodded with a pleased expression. "Thank you, potions!" Hermione smiled and squeezed his hand.
"Now Miss Weasley, that's not what we want, is it?" Dumbledore smiled in a grandfatherly manner at her. With the angle of the spy canvas, they could see him waving his wand at Ginny from under his desk. Ginny suddenly sat straighter in her seat.
"No, headmaster. I want Harry for always." She murmured.
"Cripes. Do I have to mix more potions to counteract that spell?" Harry whined.
"Do you know if he wears that necklace we gave him?" Dumbledore asked kindly.
"I don't know, Headmaster. I never see him without his cloak on"
"Gosh, we stopped wearing the Weasley gift jewelry ages ago" Hermione scoffed. "I can't bear to even look at that tainted locket from Ron."
"See if you can get Harry to change his mind about taking Miss Granger to the ball. Go on – that's a good girl."
Ginny got up and left in a daze. Dumbledore stared at the door after her for a bit, and then called out "Dobby!"
"Yes, Headmaster sir? How can Dobby help you?" Dobby bowed and looked every bit the obedient house-elf.
"Dobby, could you please tell your friend Harry Potter I need to talk to him?"
"Yes sir!" Dobby played the over-eager to help his friend act to the hilt, and popped out of the office.
"Now, Mr. Potter" Dumbledore said smugly. "Let's see what you've been up to."
"Alright guys, I need your help" Harry said in a businesslike tone. "Luna, you are the best at memory charms – help goblin magic some false memories in me for this meeting. I don't want to trust my skills alone."
The blond witch nodded and started chanting and waving her good wand at Harry's head.
"Nev, you are the best for shields – I need one of your undetectable shields so he can't wand-zap me from under the desk." Neville nodded and waved his wand around Harry's body.
Dobby popped into the trunk at that instant. "Harry Potter sir? The Headmaster wishes to see you".
"Everyone wish me luck. Enjoy the show!" Harry smiled, a bit nervously, and grabbed Ginny's necklace of Prongs off his dresser, swiftly putting it on. He apparated from Godric's Suitcase to an empty hall near the headmaster's office, and approached the hidden staircase, but was annoyed to find he didn't know the password. As he was going through an annoying list of sweets, Snape billowed from around the corner.
"Potter" he spoke in a low, private tone. "Do you have an appointment with the headmaster?"
"Yes sir" Harry replied. "Could I have the password?"
"Do you know what he wants?" Snape asked suspiciously.
"Yes, Professor. He wants to convince me to go out with Ginny Weasley and to stop hanging around Neville. He's just mucking around with my life again." Harry fidgeted, frowning.
"Don't accept any of his muggle sweets. They are potioned for calmness, truthfulness, and submissiveness. Password is 'Mars Bar'." With that, the dark-eyed potions professor spun on his heel and strode off, cloak billowing behind him.
"Love the cape billowing-thing. How does he do that?" Harry pondered, watching him leave. "I wonder if the library has a book on cool signature wizard effects, like cloak billowing and eye twinkles."
With a shrug, Harry spoke out "Mars Bar" and jumped on the revolving staircase. Dumbledore called out "Come in" when he tapped on the door. Glancing around, Harry spotted a portrait looking him over and knew that was how Dumbledore always knew who was on the other side of the door. Heaving a sigh, Harry entered the office.
"Harry, my boy!" Dumbledore was twinkling like a Christmas tree. "Come in, sit down – we haven't chatted in a while. Lemon drop?" He picked up a bowl of candy and handed it to him.
"No thank you, sir." Harry concentrated on being polite and as distant as a grieving student could be expected to be. He looked around the office, noting how everything was repaired. "I'm sorry again about last year, sir. I should be in better control of my temper."
Dumbledore studied the young man carefully. "His thoughts are just what I'd expect – Sirius, Cedric, Dursleys, Malfoy annoyances, Snape… typical. Nothing new or exciting in his life. Get over Black, you pathetic nothing boy – he wasn't in my plans. Hum – interest in Granger, admiration, innocent feelings – nothing deep or hormonal. Repulsed by Ginny's pushiness – enough to overcome the necklace charm it seems."
During the moments of silence, when Dumbledore was probing his thoughts, Harry was listening in on his commentary, keeping his face and mind blank to his counter-spying, and keeping his real memories and feelings tightly walled up.
"So tell me, how are you coping with the loss of your godfather?" Dumbledore asked in his most grandfatherly voice.
"I'm OK, sir" Harry spoke with sincere sadness in his voice. "I try to keep busy and not blame myself for what happened. Talking with Remus over the summer helped a lot."
"I'm always interested in your well-being, Harry" Dumbledore continued, "and I hear that you and Ron aren't as close as you use to be. What is up?"
It took super human control and will power not to roll his eyes and/or vomit. Interested in my well-being? Oh brother.
Harry looked at the headmaster, oozing with sincerity. "I don't know, sir. Ron seems to be in a bad mood all the time, and really doesn't want anything to do with me anymore. He's much more interested in hanging out with Dean and Seamus. It's ok – I was really getting tired of his jealousy. I can't help the fact I inherited money from my folks, and I certainly don't like my fame. If he can't understand that, he's really not much of a friend."
"Oh Harry – he has his moments of immaturity, but he really is your friend. He misses you, you know. I can sense these things." Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling overtime, as he sucked on a lemon drop from another bowl. "Sure you wouldn't like a lemon drop?"
Harry shrugged noncommittally and shook his head, declining at the candy. "I really don't miss him and his head trips, sir. I've got plenty of friends."
"Ah, yes, about that" Dumbledore spoke carefully, and Harry could feel tangible magic in the air. "I hear that you are getting close to Mr. Longbottom. I really don't think that is such a wise idea. You know what the prophecy says – the two of you together could make a very tempting target to Voldemort. For yours and his own safety, I think you should distance yourself from him. Remember – Ronald Weasley is your friend."
The young wizard could feel the magic bouncing off his shield, and more being absorbed by his two family rings. "What a dirtbag!" Harry fumed to himself, keeping his face blank, "this really beats all." But Harry convincingly faked a submissive look and nodded in agreement.
Dumbledore hit him with the grandfatherly eye twinkles again. "So, have you asked Miss Weasley to the ball yet?"
Harry frowned slightly. "No, sir. I'm not interested in Ginny. I asked Hermione already and she said yes."
"But Harry, the Potters are well known for their love of red-headed women. You know you want to go with Miss Weasley."
Harry could feel the headmaster's manipulative magic bouncing off his shields again. He steeled his back – this was something he just didn't feel like faking or giving in on. He faked a confused look and answered slowly "I'm sorry, sir, but I really don't like Ginny very much. She's kind of, well, nasty. Please don't tell Ron I said so. I thought last year Ron liked Hermione, but he doesn't hang around her anymore either. I'm comfortable with Hermione. I've already asked her."
Dumbledore looked surprised for a moment, and there was the quickest glimmer of anger in his eyes. Harry could clearly hear him thinking "how can he resist that charm? I guess Miss Weasley really affected him negatively and so strongly that he is impervious to anything but an out and out love potion. I guess that's not worth the trouble – too easy to trace." "Tell me, boy. Do you still wear that necklace she gave you? You are aware it's been charmed to protect you from certain hexes."
Harry dutifully pulled it out of his cloak to display. "I didn't know that sir. I just like it because it reminds me of Prongs. It's very nice."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. "How's your occlumency with Professor Snape coming?" He asked instead.
Harry made a big show of wincing. "I don't think it's doing any good at all – Snape is not a very good teacher."
"Professor Snape is the best we have, Harry. You must keep trying – this is important."
"Yes sir" Harry answered dully and submissively. Feeling himself dismissed, he said good bye to the headmaster and left, returning to his tower. Making sure the room was empty, he apparated back into Godric's Suitcase.
"Enjoy the show?" Harry asked smugly, to be met with a pelting of popcorn.
"Boy, what a manipulative jerk our headmaster is!" Neville spat.
"Yes, but he's sooooo concerned for you, Harry" Luna added sarcastically. Hermione just stewed, tapping her foot with arms crossed in anger on Harry's behalf.
"Yah" Harry agreed, "It took everything I had not to do the 'Technicolor yawn' when he started in about Ron being my mate."
"Technicolor yawn?" Luna asked.
"Sure" Harry snorted. "Technicolor yawn. Shout at your shoes. Buick. Driving the porcelain bus. Blow chunks. Spew. You get the picture. Anyway, I couldn't give in about Hermione and Ginny. Nev, we can fake not hanging out anymore – we meet in here all the time, and can chat telepathically all we want, and give ol' twinkle-eyes the impression I'm obeying. After this year we won't have to pretend anything anymore – he will know something is up when I don't return home to the Dursleys. But I can't pretend to want to go out with the red tart. That's not fair to Hermione, and I just can't stand Ginny!"
The four kids quickly cleaned the popcorn from the floors and furniture with cleaning charms, all the while coming up with even more creative euphemisms for barfing. Then they apparated back to various places around the castle.
Luna paused before returning to the Ravenclaw quarters. She eyed one of the many suits of armor that lined the corridors of the castle. With a dreamy smile and lots of inspiration, she grabbed her wand and set to work on a gift for their beloved headmaster.
O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
The next Saturday the headmaster woke up, stretched and yawned. It would be a good day, he decided, as he reviewed his recent discussion with Harry Potter over again in his head. It was annoying that Harry refused to feel attraction to a young witch that was firmly under Dumbledore's control, but the Boy-Who-Lived was still his chess pawn on the board of his war.
Donning one of his more stunning robes, deep purple with golden embroidered stars and matching hat, the headmaster combed his beard and adjusted his eye-twinkle in his mirror. Time for a hearty breakfast – the kippers were calling.
Turning the first corner on the way to the Great Hall, Albus Dumbledore was greeted by one of the rusty suits of armor that nodded to him and spoke in a gravelly voice "Ugh – you make me feel like hurling." It stood still and didn't say another word.
"Curious" Dumbledore muttered out loud, and resumed his trek toward breakfast. The very next suit of armor, however, grabbed its stomach and moaned "It's Albus! Time to bow to the porcelain god!" The armor proceeded to make some very convincing barfing sounds.
The headmaster stood and gawked at the now-frozen armor. He heard a clanking behind him, and spun around. A group of three empty knight-husks moaned and said "Ew – that was chunky!", and "visiting the upchuck wagon!", and "I'm revealing last night's dinner!" Then they went back to in-action. Albus felt a tad green.
It was getting annoying now. There had to be 50 sets of armor between his office and the Great Hall, and each one of them came to life just long enough to tell him how nauseated they were, make appropriate sound effects, and went back to silence. Dumbledore tried to ignore them, stepping up his pace to a brisk walk, but he kept having "Tossing my guts" and "Speeeewww!" and "Heave-Ho!" and "Lunch, redux" hurled at him. He was feeling totally off breakfast now. The voices even added very convincing sound effects to go with the repulsive words.
Dumbledore ran, trying to sprint past the annoying euphemisms being thrown at him and attempting to outrun his rage.
…"Riding the porcelain pony"…
…"Gagging with gifts"…
…"Doing the intestinal tango"…
…"Riding the upchuck choo choo"…
…"Recycle Din-Din"…
... "Liquid laugh"…
…"The Rainbow cough"
Seething with anger, the ancient mugwump calmed himself with a charm and put on his twinkly grandfather look as he opened the doors to the hall and took his seat, hoping he could keep down a cup of tea at least. Then he spied a copy of the Quibbler by his plate. From outside the huge doors to the Great Hall the echo-y voices of the suits of armor could still be heard yelling "emptying the cauldron", and "hair ball management", and "cough the corn", and "riding the porcelain pony".
After the last of the knights had its say and was still, Dobby and Winky stood in the empty entrance way, looking around with disappointment. "None of you used "UFSS – Unidentified Flying Stomach Stuff", Dobby muttered dejectedly.
"Chewy burp is my favorite" Winky nodded.
Back inside the Great Hall students were looking out toward the entrance hall, puzzled at the strange shouting and puking they heard. Few noticed their headmaster was looking decidedly pale. Luna was eating breakfast with the Gryffindors, absentmindedly munching on a pastry, reading the latest edition of their family's newspaper. She smiled her slow dreamy smile and tossed it to Neville. "Here you go, Neville. I think you will like this." "All of you will like this" she added telepathically to Harry and Hermione.
The Real You-Know-Who
By anonymous
Acting on an anonymous tip, the Quibbler is proud to present this article, the result of months of careful research. In this exclusive, learn the real story and history of the so-called 'Dark Lord', and feel free to confirm the facts yourself.
Lord Voldemort, the name he has chosen to call himself, is in fact Tom Marvolo Riddle, a little known wizard from Little Hangleton. He was born in 1928 to Merope Gaunt, a reclusive young witch who died giving birth to him, and Tom Riddle Sr, a local muggle who abandoned his wife before his son's birth.
Tom Riddle was raised in an orphanage until he started at Hogwarts, where he quickly because known for his quick mind and winning ways. A handsome youth, and the last surviving heir of Slytherin, he was known in school for charm, intelligence, and unfortunately, a fascination for the dark arts and lack of true friends. Despite strong suspicion that he was the heir of Slytherin that opened the Chamber of Secrets, resulting in the death of one student, Myrtle Baker, Riddle was made Head Boy in 1944. Another student was blamed for it instead, and suffered the humiliation of wand snapping and expulsion, and to this day has never been compensated or apologized to. Riddle, on the other hand, received a Medal for Magical Merit for pointing fingers at the innocent student.
Riddle graduated from Hogwarts in 1945, where he took a job with Borgin and Burke's on Knockturn Alley as a clerk and procurer of rare items. It was a suspicious job in this magazine's opinion, seeing that a young wizard with the talent he showed could have found employment at many prestigious places. He left the position abruptly after the disappearance of Hepzibah Smith, a witch who sold Riddle many priceless treasures.
During the time of his employment with Borgin and Burkes, Tom Riddle Sr., his father, and his grandparents were found dead in the drawing room of Little Hangleton, with no apparent injury or cause of death. The gardener was quoted in the muggle news as having seen dark-haired, pale teenage boy in the village the morning of their death.
In the years between 1945 and 1970, Tom Riddle took to wandering and learning all he could about the Dark Arts. He was rumored to consort with the very worst of witches and wizards, and gained an unquenchable thirst for power and immortality. His dealings with evil transfigured his once handsome appearance to a more sinister and strange visage, but it was still recognizable as the once-attractive youth.
In the 1970s, as many will remember, he now openly called himself Lord Voldemort. This was due to his hatred of the father that abandoned him, and that he wanted to hide the fact he was a half-blood himself. He started to work on what he considered the wishes of Salazar Slytherin – to rid the world of wizards of mixed ancestry and muggles, although where he came up with the idea that this was the goals of Slytherin are unknown. There are no written records or handed-down tales to support Riddle's twisted beliefs about the Founder.
Riddle gathered a following whom he called "Death Eaters". They started out as loyal friends who wanted to share in the power he was amassing, but many ended up to be weak wizards who were too scared to stand up to him.
We are sure everyone in the Wizarding World now knows the story of how Lily and James Potter, powerful fighters against Voldemort, made a friend Peter Pettigrew their secret keeper of the location of their home. Unknown to them, Pettigrew was a Death Eater, who promptly betrayed them to Riddle, leading to their deaths. However, when Riddle tried to kill their one year old child, Harry, with an unforgivable, it mysteriously rebounded back on himself, and destroyed his body, leaving him formless for 10 years.
Riddle spent that time evidently inhabiting animals and lesser creatures, until he was able to find host in the body of Quirinus Quirrell, the Defense against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts in 1991. Riddle/Quirrell spent the year in search of the fabled Philosopher's Stone, created by Nicolas Flamel, in the hopes he could restore a proper body for himself. He was defeated by Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, with the help of Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. These three students were never rewarded for their bravery and service.
In 1992 a known Death Eater arranged for an old enchanted diary of Riddles to be smuggled into Hogwarts, where it was able to possess a student (whom we will not reveal the identity of), and re-open the Chamber of Secrets. Riddle almost succeeded in coming back, but Harry Potter once again defeated him and the monster of the Chamber – a basilisk! This brave young wizard once again championed the wizarding world and yet was never rewarded or even recognized for his heroism.
The year 1994 was the start of the second war, when Riddle succeeded with the help of Peter Pettigrew to get a rudimentary body made of unicorn blood and snake venom. With Pettigrew and Barty Crouch Jr.'s help, Riddle was able to get Crouch a job as the Defense teacher at Hogwarts polyjuiced as the retired auror Alastor Moody, and manipulated Harry Potter as a unwilling forth contestant in the Tri-wizard Tournament. The tasks ended with Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter tying for first place, but unknown to themselves, Crouch had turned the winning cup into a portkey to Little Hangleton. Riddle succeeded in restoring a body for himself using Mr. Potter's blood, various disgusting objects and the assistance of his Death Eaters. Mr. Diggory was killed by the Death Eaters and Mr. Potter was able to escape.
The following summer of 1995 was one of the Ministry's darkest. They refused to believe that Riddle had returned, and lost almost a full year they could have been preparing for the Second War. The Ministry did, however, succeed in placing a completely incompetent Defense teacher in Hogwarts who was rumored to resort to blood quills for punishments and refuse to teach practical in Defense. Riddle was witnessed by many people in a battle at the Ministry of Magic, where Fudge found himself in a position of being unable to deny Voldemort's return any longer.
The Quibbler questioned Albus Dumbledore in several matters concerning Tom Riddle, which he refused to answer. How could the greatest wizard of our time, a master at occlumency, not know how evil young Riddle had become while at Hogwarts? Why was the student Riddle wronged over the Chamber of Secrets never cleared? How could Dumbledore hire Quirrell who was hosting Riddle? How could Dumbledore not know that his Defense teacher in '94 was a polyjuiced version of one of his oldest friends? And why has he kept Voldemort's identity, known to him self all these years, a secret from the public?
The Quibbler refuses to call Tom Riddle by anything but his real name any more. Riddle is a powerful dark wizard, for certain. But he is only human, like any other wizard. He is not a Lord, he is not all-powerful, and we find it ironic that a man born of muggle father and witch mother is trying to rid the world of all mix-blood wizards.
End of article.
"Wow" Neville exhaled, as he read the article telepathically to Harry and Hermione. He glanced up at the teacher's table, and was not surprised to see Dumbledore glaring down at Harry in unmasked fury. You could hear various pockets of students around the room growing silent as copies of the Quibbler were being read. People took to staring at Dumbledore in disgust, and at Harry with expressions of awe, disbelief, pride or hatred, depending on the person.
"Well" Harry said with a wan smile "this will stir up Riddle, no doubt. I'm going to hide in my dorm until Dumbledore calls me for a meeting – I want to spy with my mind link and see what old Tom's reaction is."
O0o0o0o0o0o0o
Dobby popped to Harry's side. The young wizard was laying on his back, grinning as he listened in on Riddle. Ol' Tom wasn't happy in the least. One new recruit, a quivering, cowardly Death Eater, had brought him a copy of the Quibbler insulted at the 'lies'. The Death Eater was rewarded by becoming the individual to get most of the crucio's and the servant developed a strong suspicion on why Voldemort would react to the article so violently.
Riddle was about to burst a blood vessel. His brain was a paranoid whirlwind of fear, anger, embarrassment and suspicion. He feared somehow one of his Death Eaters had talked with the magazine – Malfoy or Wormtail, but Fudge, Potter or Dumbledore could have written the article. He could swear his followers were looking at him with less respect.
The day before the issue came out Luna's father had relocated his business to a heavily warded and concealed new location, so Harry wasn't worried when Riddle sent a team to the old location of the Quibbler. They would go back empty handed which would send the dark wizard into even deeper levels of fury.
"Harry Potter, Sir?" Dobby touched him gently on the arm. "The Headmaster is wanting to see you immediately. He is not happy, sir. It's because of Mistress Luna's article."
"Thanks Dobby." Harry swung his legs around, sitting up and smiling. "I've been expecting him to call for me."
Harry entered the headmaster's office, and was amused to see Luna sitting serenely in a chair in front of a very red-faced and furious Supreme Mugwump. She sent Harry a telepathic 'I told him I got the information for the article chatting with you and you knew nothing about it'.
Dumbledore conjured an overstuffed chair for Harry and rather rudely gestured him to it. Harry wore the perfect blend of confusion and innocence on his face and in his thoughts. As he sat, the headmaster practically threw the bowl of lemon drops at him, which Harry declined, only maddening the ancient more. Dumbledore then flung the current Quibbler at Harry and tersely spat "What do you know about this?"
He made a show of reading the article, acting as if it were the first time. He looked up when finished, glanced over at Luna and back to Dumbledore and said "nothing sir. I didn't write this, if that's what you mean."
"Don't play cute with me, boy." Dumbledore was turning redder by the second. "I have been opening howlers all morning – I've got a team of house-elves doing it now, and they are just as mad as I am. Where did Miss Lovegood here get all this information! This is supposed to be private between you and me! Where do you get off treating me like this, after all I have done to protect you! You owe your very life to me, Harry, and this is the thanks I get!"
If Albus Dumbledore was in a fury, it was nothing compared to what Harry was feeling inside. The readings Dumbledore was getting off of Harry read only confusion, bewilderment and a strong sense of betrayal toward Luna. But inside Harry wanted to lash out screaming at his once beloved headmaster, and let him know just what he owed him. However, with the supreme effort of strength and maturity, Harry stayed in control.
"Sir" Harry spoke after a moment of feigned nervousness, "you told me to confide in friends. Luna is a friend. I did not think she was going to write an article." He shot her a fake angry look while sending a telepathic apology for the act.
"Headmaster" Luna interrupted in her mild, unperturbed manner, "Harry had mentioned a couple of the things that I used in the article, like the fact that Voldemort is Tom Riddle, where Riddle went after his body died, and the horrible way your predecessor treated poor Hagrid. The fact he defeated Riddle in his first, second, forth and fifth years is common knowledge to everyone at Hogwarts. Riddles' identity was confirmed by looking at the Ministry's public domain records, copies of which I received by owl. Very little of the article was from Harry."
Dumbledore whipped his head around to glare at the young witch. "You, Miss Lovegood are facing expulsion at the very least. I think it's in your best interests not to speak unless spoken to."
Harry was taken a back at the venom coming from the headmaster, but Luna, calm as ever, merely raised an eyebrow. "On what grounds, Headmaster? What school rules have I possibly broken? Is anything in that article untrue?"
"YOU….I….IT…." Dumbledore sputtered and spit, completely out of control. He spun around a few times, as if trying to decide whether to jump around his desk and strangle the two students, or to grab Fawkes, who was looking very concerned, and throw him like a feathery quaffle. Finally he fell down heavily in his chair, rubbing his left arm with apparent pain.
Harry stared at him, willing thoughts in the front of his mind about fear for himself and Luna, and confusion. But in his private thoughts he watched the headmaster massaging his arm with fascination. Was it possible Dumbledore was a Death Eater?
"GET OUT!" the ancient screamed at them, wildly gesturing toward the door. They got up and left without another word or backwards glance. "I don't want to see any more articles!" He screamed after them.
O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
The next few weeks brought uproar to the wizarding world. Few people knew that Tom Riddle, the charismatic boy from Hogwarts was in reality the feared Lord Voldemort. Dumbledore was inundated with angry howlers (as if there is any other kind), demanding to know why he kept this information secret. The feared evil wizard was human, and therefore was able to be destroyed – the article helped the side of light immensely.
Rita Skeeter, not to be outdone, did a complementary article for the Daily Prophet, which took a lot of the heat off of Luna and the Quibbler. After a couple weeks the uproar died down, but the Death Eaters never looked at their boss quite the same way again. Finally, the other good thing to come of it was Hagrid found him self with an official letter of apology from the Ministry, and permission to purchase a new wand and continue with his education. Better late then never, the delighted half-giant had a bouquet of rare flowers from the forbidden forest sent to Luna in thanks. Neville probably enjoyed them even more than she did.
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Winky's excellent popcorn: pop one bag of microwave popcorn (or pop a batch of any kind). Toss in large bowl with ½ stick melted butter, and generous shaking of parmesan cheese and McCormick's Salad Seasoning (from the spices and herbs in your grocery store). Very greasy, extremely high calorie and addicting!
Thanks to drache5824, HermioneGreen, Dilligas762, BlindJedi, SoldieroftheMoon, Pwn Master Paladin, DragoFlare4000, imgonnadie, Krammitftn, Laura, femaleprongslet, Rabid-Reader-1, Marie 0, JDZ, Xyverz, Talon05, kizunakat, Jade Dagger, jabarber69, Ilfirin Morion, Storm Firestar, KirstiR, Shadow Lighthawk, and many more for all the revolting words for vomit!
And thanks to New Dye for sheer volume! You get the 'Golden Gag' award!