Updated: Saturday 16 July 2006 (yes, I've been v. bad, I know...)
Disclaimer: If it were mine I wouldn't be working 5 days a week in a job that keeps me from meeting certain deadlines looks sheepish Anything familiar is shamelessly ripped from OotP...
Chapter Twenty-one: What goes around...
Operation Umbridge was soon well underway. If all went well, the incident with Filch, Umbridge, and a cloud of Lust Dust on Valentine's Day would pale by comparison. For unlike before, when Estella held nothing but through-and-through contempt for the woman, now it was personal.
The Lust Dust incident had been Estella's retribution for what the twins had done to she and Harry over the holidays. Fred had made the mistake of offering to 'do anything' in order to win her forgiveness, and the resourceful Ravenclaw was only too quick to take him at his words. The strategic placement of cameras, thanks Colin Creevey, secured lasting images from the rather disturbing interlude and Luna's father was only too happy to include the scandalous shots in a cover story that Estella, John, Harry and Hermione had anonymously contributed 'eye witness' accounts.
Within a day of its late February release, the March edition of the Quibbler was selling in record numbers. As a condition for plastering the rather gruesome image of Umbridge 'fraternising with the help' on the cover of his left-of-centre magazine, Mr Lovegood had requested an exclusive interview with Harry, which he reluctantly gave on the proviso that it fill only the back pages; word-of-mouth alone considered enough to publicise the feature.
So, between all the gratuitous 'lies' Harry was quoted as saying about his 'devoted' godfather and the humiliation of the 'completely fictional' story about her, Umbridge had reacted rather badly to its publication, promptly passing an Educational Decree to effectively ban the magazine from the school. Before the ink had even the chance to dry on all the respective house's noticeboards, however, Fred and George were capitalising on the situation, offering Concealment Charms and Notice-me-Not bookmarks to anyone who did not wish to part with their copy for the tidy sum of one Sickle, one Knut. When questioned on their nominated price, George was only too happy to point out that the Sick-le was for Filch, and the Knut for, well, 'The Nut'.
Pretty soon, the entire DA was in on the act, with Ginny joking that it was the group's first real 'assignment' as an army. Everyone's disposition was used to the advantage of the common goal; unassuming Hufflepuffs were deployed to get close to the woman and find out what she liked; Ravenclaws handled the research, and Gryffindors, plan execution. The proceeds Fred and George's 'Hide-the-Quibbler' initiative kept them well stocked with merchandise.
One by one, carefully orchestrated pranks were pulled off, with more often than not Umbridge the lone witness and victim. When the twins set off a sample of their Instant Darkness Powder one night whilst the woman was doing her rounds of the hallways, all evidence of the attack had dissipated by the time Professor McGonagall heeded the woman's screams of terror. The sight of the frazzled Inquisitor stumbling in the dark, vehemently declaring that her wand would not work left the Deputy Headmistress questioning the sanity of her reluctant colleague, and a report was carefully filed away in a drawer, just waiting for the day when evidence to discredit the woman would be needed.
Then there was the well-placed Hex that John had found, which made Umbridge cough up bright pink fur balls every other mealtime for a week. The woman's insistence that her condition was caused by a hex was readily dispelled by the school nurse, who took one look at her omnipresent pink cardigan and sent the Inquisitor on her way. Afterwards, at an Order meeting, Dumbledore conversationally informed the entire group that mealtime had not been so lively at the Staff table since the time the Marauders charmed the table's legs to move whenever the then Divination Professor professed to have 'foreseen' something. He then took the opportunity to unconvincingly admonish his Deputy for poking fun at the unfortunate woman's lack of appetite, revealing to the group that he seemed to remember a time when a certain cat Animagus had only just mastered her transformation and, as a side effect, had habitually coughed up fur balls for a month. Everyone had laughed heartily at that revelation, the mirth in the room only growing when the normally reserved Transfiguration Professor looked as though she might have hexed the headmaster had they been in different company.
"I don't think an Order Meeting has been that lively since… since… since the time James made the mistake of sending a Tickling Hex at a pregnant woman!" Sirius had said afterwards, still grinning madly. "So… there are some new Marauders at this school of yours, huh?"
"An entire army of them, or so I've heard," said Estella, feigning innocence.
"I thought you said you didn't want to try and give my old reputation a run for its money?" said Sirius, tucking her in – for she usually stayed the night after a meeting. His bottom lip protruded slightly as he considered the possibility that his and James' coveted notoriety could be outdone.
"I did," said Estella nodding, a smug look on her face. "I haven't done anything to Umbridge… and you know I don't lie."
Sirius had scrutinised his daughter for a moment, his eyes narrowing.
"Not directly, you haven't," he corrected knowingly. "But I know you are involved… no one else has an imagination like yours."
The grin on Estella's face got impossibly wider, but she admitted nothing. Far from being mad, Sirius had beamed proudly and promised to never get on his daughter's bad side.
March turned into April, and the Easter Holidays approached. Of all the people in the school, Dolores Umbridge looked as though she could use the break the most. Between having Fizzing Whizbangs set off outside her quarters during her favourite WWN broadcasts, and being short-sheeted by Peeves whilst she was in the bed, the woman had clearly been losing sleep. Her unkempt appearance and even quicker temper, however, only served to reaffirm the DA's resolve; they, as well as almost the entire school, wanted the woman out.
Though Estella had many memorable moments during this coordinated, term-long campaign, she couldn't get past the Quibbling Quill. Lee Jordan, as part of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes' research into their range of trick quills, had come across an obscure incantation that, when applied to a person, caused them to write whatever they were trying to express in nonsensical limericks. When, one day, Umbridge had gone to write out another of her infernal Educational Decrees, and found that no matter the quill she used, she could only write in riddles, she had flown into a destructive rage. Taking every 'faulty' quill she could find straight to the headmaster as proof that someone was 'out to get her' she was made a laughing stock of the senior faculty when none of the other adults had any difficulty constructing sentences with the quills. Umbridge was looked down upon by her peers as being attention-seeking and over-imaginative, and another report was secretly filed away.
Luckily for all involved, the woman was far too dim to consider using a Priori Incantatem on herself to look for evidence of spell usage on her person. Not that it would have always borne results, mind, since all traces of the spells they were using would disappear once the hex had run its course – such was the nature of hexes and curses that were timed, rather than removable with a Finite Incantatem.
"Are we ever going to let up on her?" asked John one day, as they settled down to study for a Charms exam.
After assuring her house mate that she had no inclination of running of with the likes of Harry or Draco, the two Ravenclaws had made the amicable decision to cease pursuing that 'little something more' in their relationship and just remain friends. While it was true that Estella was in the midst of the age where she ought to be concerned with exploring the joys of finding a first love, there were just far too many obstacles keeping her from getting any real fulfilment from the pursuit. If she wasn't constantly afraid of Lucius Malfoy's reprisals, should she choose another, it was Voldemort. If it wasn't her reluctance to 'venture into the unknown', it was the fear that a close relationship with another boy would damage the sibling-like closeness she treasured with Harry.
Not many people – lest of all her father – could quite appreciate her ability to be so self-reliant and independent. Unlike Sirius, James, and to a certain extent, Remus, she was more than accustomed to her own company; her uncle's influence over her life impressing upon her a sense of self-sufficiency. The years she had also spent, picked upon and ostracised from her classmates in Primary School had inflicted a lasting effect, she was still intimidated by large groups of peers. She had to work hard over the past four years to forge any sort of bond with her housemates… and even then, she found that as they all got caught up in their sports, studies or respective love lives, it was not unusual for them to go days without talking. Moments like this, now, in the library, were increasingly few and far between, but since deciding to stay firm friends, Estella and John had been going to lengths to make an effort.
Estella looked up from her sheet of parchment and favoured her friend with an incredulous look.
"Hell no!" she said, "especially not after she had tried to turn the entire library into one big Restricted Section!"
In retaliation for the constant targeting Umbridge had fallen 'victim' to, the controlling woman had attempted to limit the library to students with 'genuine study requirements.' A rare moment of perceptiveness had correctly guessed that her unidentified foes were using the library to conduct their research, and she had wanted to strike back at the core of the problem. When the Board of Governors stepped up and vetoed her ridiculous Decree, stating that it was against the best interests of the students' education to deprive them of their library, the woman had attempted to have a vast number of 'questionable' books removed, and burned.
Fearing that she would not receive approval for such a radical move, the woman had used her authoritative clout to force the Librarian to grant her access in the dead of night, but once Madam Pince realised what the crazed High Inquisitor was intending to do, it had turned ugly. Afterwards, no one could believe that the quiet, bookish librarian would be capable of such damage, and everyone had been surprised to discover that it had been Peeves who had raised the alarm. Pictures of the fiercely protective librarian, who did not escape unscathed, as well as images of a few unfortunate books that Umbridge had managed to mangle beyond recognition were 'leaked' to the tabloids, with the Quibbler gleefully running another cover story. Parents, in reaction, had flooded the Ministry, and the school, with letters of complaint, and Umbridge had been issued with an official warning.
"But she's gotten an official warning," said John quietly. "Isn't that enough? Do you really want to ruin her life?"
"Come on, John, running her out of this school is hardly ruining her life! She has no love of being here, other than to make people miserable," said Estella. "She can go back and rot in her job in the Minister's office for all I care, and good riddance! I can't believe you're actually being sympathetic, John… you've seen the effects of the Cursed Quills she's been using in detentions, and you know the rumours about the Veritaserum; not to mention the stuff she's been saying about my Dad and other people who are bloody fantastic wizards… all of that came about before we started on her too. She has no excuse."
"I suppose you're right," said John resignedly, book-marking his page and beginning to clear away his things.
"I know I'm right," said Estella jokingly, following John's lead after a quick glance at the clock reminded her that they would be late for their DA meeting if they didn't chivvy along.
It was the last DA meeting before the Easter holidays, and they had finally started working on the Patronus Charm. Everybody had been very keen to practice all term, though, as Harry kept reminding them, producing a Patronus in the middle of a brightly lit classroom when they were not under threat was very different from producing it when confronted with something like a Dementor.
"Oh, don't be such a killjoy," said Cho brightly, watching her silvery swan-shaped Patronus soar around the Room of Requirement. "They're so pretty!"
"They're not supposed to be pretty, they're supposed to protect you," said Harry patiently. When Harry had realised that all Cho had wanted him for was to be seen at his side and to talk about Cedric's death, he had quite pointedly rejected the girl's advances. Of course, Estella knew there was much more to the boy's reasoning than Cho's motives, but she wasn't about to push Harry into something he may not be ready for. Unsurprisingly, Cho had been indifferent to the news and, within the week, was seen to be actively pursuing the Head Boy.
Harry ran a hand through his hair. "What we really need is a Boggart or something; that's how I learned, had to conjure a Patronus while the Boggart was pretending to be a Dementor-"
"But that would be really scary!" said Lavender, who was shooting puffs of silver vapour out of the end of her wand. "And I still – can't – do it!" she added angrily.
Neville was having trouble, too. His face was screwed up in concentration, but only feeble wisps of silver smoke issued from his wand tip.
"You've got to think of something happy," Harry reminded him.
"I'm trying," said Neville miserably, who was trying so hard his round face was actually shining with sweat.
"Harry, I think I'm doing it!" yelled Seamus, who had been brought along to his first ever DA meeting by Dean. "Look – ah – it's gone… but it was definitely something hairy, Harry!"
Hermione's Patronus, a shining silver otter, was gambolling around her.
"They are sort of nice, aren't they?" she said, looking at it fondly.
Across from the awe-struck Gryffindor, Estella was scowling at her pathetic wisp of smoke in disgust. Everyone close to her – namely Harry – expected her to do well in the DA exercises because she had a former Defence teacher for a godfather and a current one being a dutiful uncle by giving her extra lessons; but she couldn't very well tell any of them that what her uncle was teaching her now was from books that put the Restricted Section to shame.
It had taken some convincing on Estella's part to convince her uncle to move away from the curriculum he would have otherwise been teaching all of the students in mainstream classes. She had argued that she was keeping up with those core defence methods through her involvement in the DA; which covered material a year ahead of her. When her uncle finally conceded to teach her a few 'practical' Dark spells, so that she may better understand how to defend against them, he had sworn her to secrecy. Learning the Unforgivables was standard for Aurors-in-training, but a social faux pas when applied to a child. Estella had been reluctant, but as Severus had explained to her, if she could successfully inflict the Cruciatus Curse on someone she cared for, then she would have no problems using it to its full extent upon an enemy. The implication that Estella may find herself in a situation in which she would cast an illegal Unforgivable upon another wizard sent shivers down her spine, but her uncle assured her that sometimes it was necessary to fight 'fire with fire'.
Shaking the memory, then, of her uncle writhing in the throes of her own Cruciatus, Estella tried to focus again on the task at hand. Ever since she had heard an inkling a few weeks previously that Patronuses would form the basis of the April meeting, Estella had begged her uncle to give her a run through. The man had refused, however, and Estella duly suspected that it was because her uncle could not, himself, conjure a corporeal Patronus.
'Damn it, Black,' she chastised herself. 'Happy thoughts!'
As many 'happy thoughts' Estella had in her life to choose from, almost all of them were associated with something bad. Fond memories with her uncle were tainted by the recent images burned in her mind; touching moments with her father marred by her imaginings of what he'd been through all those years in Azkaban; her incredible closeness with Harry haunted by the events of the graveyard, when she'd almost lost him; and the bond with her godfather was habitually overshadowed by the anguish she felt each month when he transformed and she was unable to do anything about it.
'Stop it, you pessimistic, self-effacing, pitiful excuse of a witch,' she berated herself heatedly, trying vainly to concentrate on her breathing and clear her mind. She was determined to see the spell through, no matter the cost, and it was just unfortunate that her increasing frustration at each failure only served to set her back further.
Noticing the girl he loved as a sister struggle with the spell, the look on her face belying an inner-conflict, Harry began to cross the room and head towards her. But before he could impart encouraging words upon her, the door of the Room of Requirement opened, and closed. Ever observant, Estella looked over Harry's shoulder to see who had entered, but there did not seem to be anybody there. It was a few moments before both she and Harry realised that the people close to the door had fallen silent. Next thing she knew, something was tugging at Harry's robes somewhere near the knee, standing right in front of her. Recognising the Malfoy's old house-elf, Dobby, immediately, she exchanged a worried look with Harry, who cleared his throat.
"Hi, Dobby!" he said. "What are you – What's wrong?"
The elf's eyes were wide with terror and he was shaking. The members of the DA closest to Harry had fallen silent; everybody in the room was watching Dobby. The few Patronuses people had managed to conjure faded away into silver mist, leaving the room looking much darker than before.
"Harry Potter, sir…" squeaked the elf, trembling from head to foot, "Harry Potter, sir… Dobby has come to warn you… but the house-elves have been warned not to tell…"
He ran head-first at the wall. Harry, who had some experience of Dobby's habits of self-punishment, made to seize him, but Dobby merely bounced off the stone, cushioned by his eight hats. Hermione and a few of the other girls let out squeaks of fear and sympathy.
"What's happened, Dobby?" Harry asked, grabbing the elf's tiny arm and holding him away from anything with which he might seek to hurt himself.
"Harry Potter… she… she…"
Dobby hit himself hard on the nose with his free fist. Harry seized that, too.
"Who's 'she', Dobby?" asked Harry with mounting dread. "Umbridge?"
Dobby nodded, then tried to bang his head on Harry's knees. Harry held him at arm's length.
"What about her? Dobby - she hasn't found out about this – about us – about the DA?"
"Dobby has been watching Draco Malfoy like Harry Potter asked, Harry Potter, sir," said Dobby, a stricken look on his face. "Dobby is seeing what Dobby's former young master is telling the High Inquisitor."
His hands held fast by Harry, the elf tried to kick himself and fell to the floor.
"Is she coming?" Harry asked quietly.
Dobby let out a howl, and began beating his bare feet hard on the floor.
"Yes, Harry Potter, yes!"
Harry straightened up and looked around at the motionless, terrified people gazing at the thrashing elf.
"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" Harry bellowed. "RUN!"
They all pelted towards the exit at once, forming a scrum at the door, but before anyone could get the door opened, Estella screamed for their attention.
"NO!" she called out, "WAIT!"
Just over two dozen heads swivelled to look at her in disbelief. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head upwards and mouthed one word.
"Fawkes," she whispered, calling the Phoenix to her.
Eyes widened in surprise as a brilliant flame of magical fire flashed into the headmaster's coveted Familiar. After whispering a few words to the solemn-looking bird, Estella gestured for the DA to crowd around.
"Everyone, hold hands! Fawkes will take all of you to a place where you can Floo directly into the offices of your respective Head of House," she instructed, physically going around and joining people's hands as they continued to stare at her as though she was daft. Wrenching two people's hands together jerkily, she sighed in exasperation. "Think of it like one big Side-Apparation… just trust me, okay?"
"But you can't Apparate from within Hogwarts!" said Zacharias Smith haughtily.
"Well you're quite welcome to try your chances in the hallway," said Estella bitingly. Several people, who had logically approximated that Fawkes was some kind of exception to this rule – given the had just appeared in front of them, from out of nowhere after all – glared at Smith as though he were a simpleton.
"Hate to be a pooper, Estella, but the Floo Network is being monitored," said John quietly.
"Precisely…" said Estella, grinning. "The Floo Network;" she shook her head at the stares she got. "This Floo isn't exactly on any Network," she assured them. "It's connections aren't fixed, much like how the staircases here change direction at will…"
"All right, all right," said Harry, taking charge, "we don't have time for this, people! Come on! HOLD HANDS!"
At Harry's roar, everyone quickly grabbed a hold of somebody else, forming a circle around the bird, by which Harry and John stood either side.
"C'mon, Estella, get out of the centre…" said Reg, letting go of the hand next to him and making a space for her.
Estella shook her head.
"I'm staying," she said. Around them, the room began to change, the full-stocked classroom morphing into an empty chamber with nothing but a piano and stool in the middle of it. Estella winked and cracked her knuckles. "Decoy," she explained.
Catching on, the DA tightened their hold on each other, all eyes falling to Fawkes, who was waiting patiently. At her nod, the Phoenix let out a shrill note and vanished, a ring of fire flashing in the place where her classmates had once stood before dissipating entirely, leaving no trace.
Turning to head over to the piano, Estella noticed Dobby standing by the door, looking a little bewildered by what he had just witnessed. Scooping up the house-elf, who upon being noticed resumed his attempts at self-harm, Estella squatted down to the elf's level and looked it directly in the eye.
"Dobby – this is an order – get back down to the kitchen with the other elves and, if she asks you whether you warned Harry, lie and say no!" said Estella. "And I forbid you to hurt yourself!"
"Thank you, Harry Potter's friend!" squeaked Dobby, and he stepped back before disappearing with a 'pop!'.
Estella had just settled herself on the piano stool when a head popped in through the door. "Hey, Inquisitor – INQUISITOR! I've got one!" said Draco Malfoy, not noticing just who he had 'got' until it was too late. "Wait… Estella?"
"Hello, Draco," said Estella, looking up from her sheet music nonchalantly. She was still smiling serenely as a flustered High Inquisitor barrelled into the room, out of breath. "Why good evening, Inquisitor Umbridge, what a pleasant surprise. I do hope I have not broken curfew – I do so lose track of the time."
"What is the meaning of this?" said Umbridge taking in the scene before her. "Malfoy, where are the others? What is going on here?"
"I was just practicing the piano, Inquisitor," said Estella, her fingers running up the ivories, playing scales, in emphasis. She had only just started practicing the piano, but the woman didn't need to know that tiny insignificant detail.
"Oh that's a likely story," sneered Umbridge in disbelief. "Do not lie to me, you insolent child! Not when I have it on good authority that there has been an illegal organisation in convention here this evening!"
Estella shot Draco an apologetic look that pointedly said that she was not about to rat out her friends, and stood firm.
"I'm sorry to say that you are mistaken, Ma'am," said Estella, sounding anything but contrite. "Perhaps you have mistaken the day, or the time? I haven't come across any illegal organisations this evening."
Indeed, from a certain point of view, the DA was neither illegal, nor particularly organised. She allowed a small smirk to grace her features, knowing it would drive the vindictive woman mad, especially since she could not prove anything. Steadily winning a staring competition with the woman, Estella could only silently finger Muggle composer John Williams' infamous Darth Vader reverie on the keys, a look of smug satisfaction on her face.
Giving up, the vile woman glared at Draco, who in turn glared at Estella, and began barking orders.
"Hop along and see if you can round up any more of them, Draco," she said, giving Estella a sidelong look. "Tell the others to look in the library – anybody out of breath – check the bathrooms, Miss Parkinson can do the girls' ones – off you go – and you," she added in her softest, most dangerous voice, as Malfoy walked away, "if you are truly musically inclined, you would not mind playing something for me, then."
"I thought you'd never ask," said Estella, grinning widely, as she began to pound out the foreboding da-da-dum-da-de-dum-da-de-dum of one of Star Wars' most memorable refrains.
"Stop!" Umbridge shrieked after a few moments. "That is not music! You are making up offensive nonsense, putting shame to the fine wizard that crafted such a beautiful instrument! I've a right mind to march you up to the Headmaster's office and have you cited for desecration of school property!"
"Well I apologise if my musical tastes are a little more, inspired," said Estella, congratulating herself on her veiled insult. "By all means, if you have a particular piece you would care for me to prove myself to you with, name it and if I know it I will endeavour to give it a go-"
"Bach," said Umbridge instantly, with a sneer. "The Goldberg Variations."
"The Aria, or do you have a preferred movement?" said Estella instantly, positioning her fingers accordingly, the music – thanks to their being in the Room of Requirement – appearing on the stand before her.
After making her way through the Aria, Umbridge had to fight herself to not look impressed. Schooling her permanent leer back on her features, she closed the lid on the piano closed, narrowly missing Estella's fingers, and leant against the modest upright, intend on physically dominating the seated girl.
"Smart, Black, very smart," said Umbridge. "A commendable ruse, but I trust my sources. Where are they?"
"Where are who, miss?" said Estella innocently, unable to hide the knowing look on her face. It was so fun to tease the woman when she had absolutely no proof to act upon anything.
"The DA MEMBERS, you cheeky child!" said Umbridge, spittle dotting her chin as a vein began to bulge out of her neck. Jabbing a finger into Estella's shoulder repeatedly, she growled; "you – will – tell – me!"
"Tell you what?" said Estella, as dimly as she could muster.
"WHERE THE DA MEMBERS ARE!" screamed Umbridge.
"I'm sorry, Inquisitor, but I don't take Divination," said Estella flatly. "I don't understand how you expect me to tell you where anyone is, when they are not in this very room with us. I can't See any better than you can, Ma'am."
This game of taking every word the woman said entirely literally was proving to be rather amusing. Estella surmised that she could keep it up all night if she was so inclined. On some level, she even began to appreciate the buzz her father spoke of getting when 'walking the wand tip' between right and wrong as a student. Umbridge, however, did not appear to be handling it so well. In any normal circumstances, Estella ought to have been terrified of the woman, but given that Fawkes was hardly a nano-thought away and the School wards had been modified to protect, amongst others, her specifically, she knew that the woman could not do her any real harm.
"ENOUGH, of the games, Miss Black!" said Umbridge impatiently, realising that she was not going to be able to extract any information from the child without assistance. She seized her arm in a vice-like grip and pulled her up, dragging her towards the door. "You can come with me to the Headmaster's office, Black. We'll see how long you can hold out for your friends in the presence of the Minister and your Headmaster."
"Oh goodie," Estella said with unbridled enthusiasm. Inspecting the nails of her free hand, non-plussed, she radiated calm. "Girl like me could do with a little colour in her day… though I do wish you would refrain from manhandling me, Inquisitor. There really is no need for violence, unless you make a habit of venting your frustrations on small children…"
Umbridge did not respond, except to squeeze Estella's arm a little tighter and quicken her pace, Estella forced to follow at a brisk trot, lest the furious woman pull her arm out of her socket. Dumbledore's office was full of people. The man himself was sitting behind his desk, his expression serene, the tips of his long fingers together. Professor McGonagall stood rigidly beside him, her face extremely tense. Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister for Magic, was rocking backwards and forwards on his toes beside the fire, not looking particularly pleased with the situation – it being an established fact that he had posted Umbridge at the school only to get her out of his hair. Kingsley Shacklebolt, one of the first Order members to receive Estella into the fold was standing on one side of the door with a tough-looking wizard with very short wiry hair Estella did not know on the other. Then, by the wall, the freckled, bespectacled form of Percy Weasley hovered excitedly beside the wall, a quill and a heavy scroll of parchment in his hands, apparently poised to take notes.
"Hello, Percival," said Estella caustically, suddenly glad that she had decided to wear her Weasley jumper that evening. Jumping slightly at being addressed, the former Hogwarts Head Boy opened and shut his mouth a few times before settling for a glare, his eyes doubling back and fixating on the tell-tale sign of his mother's handiwork.
The portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses were not shamming sleep tonight. All of them were alert and serious, watching what was happening below them. As Estella entered, a few flittered into neighbouring frames and whispered urgently into their neighbour's ear. Out to put on a good show, the attentive Ravenclaw then began to address the Portraits, greeting each former authoritative figure with polite reverence; it was enough to get all the portraits on side. Never, some of them griped, did visitors to the office pay them a second glance. When Estella got to the figure of her great-great-great grandfather, she smirked and winked at the amused Slytherin, the man settling back in his canvas to enjoy, what experience told him, would be a highly entertaining evening.
"Well," said Scrimgeour awkwardly, avoiding Umbridge's beady glare as he forced himself to feign interest in this ridiculous call-out. "Well, well, well…"
'…is a hole in the ground where water is found,' said Estella to herself in a sing-song voice. Anyone looking at her at that moment would have been amused by the look on her face – her fixtures fixed somewhere between wanting to burst out laughing and keeping a straight face.
"She was 'alone' in the designated meeting place," said Umbridge. There was an indecent excitement in her voice. "The Malfoy boy cornered her."
"Did he, did he?" said Scrimgeour indifferently. "Well, Miss Black… I expect you know why you are here?"
Estella listened on, half expecting the man to complete his sentence with 'because I don't'. She was about to answer when she caught sight of Dumbledore's face. Dumbledore was not looking directly at Estella – his eyes were fixed on a point just over her shoulder – but as Estella stared at him, he shook his head a fraction of an inch to each side.
Estella changed direction mid-word.
"Ye-no."
"I beg your pardon?" said Scrimgeour.
"No," said Estella, firmly.
"You don't know why you are here?"
"No, I don't," said Estella, not about to give an inch.
Scrimgeour looked incredulously from Estella to Umbridge. Estella took advantage of his momentary inattention to steal another quick look at Dumbledore, who gave the carpet the tiniest of nods and the shadow of a wink. The corner of Estella's lip twitched in response, but she held firm.
"So you have no idea," said Scrimgeour, in a voice positively sagging with boredom, "why Inquisitor Umbridge has brought you to this office? You are not aware that you have broken any school rules?"
"School rules?" said Estella vaguely. "No."
"Or Ministry Decrees?" amended Umbridge angrily.
"Not that I'm aware of," said Estella blandly.
"So it's news to you, is it," said Scrimgeour, his voice now thick with anger, "that an illegal student organisation has been discovered within this school?"
"Yes, it is," said Estella confidently, knowing full well that none of the other Order members would have been caught anywhere they shouldn't have been.
"I think, Minister," said Umbridge silkily from beside him, "we might make better progress if I fetch our informant."
"Yes, yes I do," said Scrimgeour, nodding, and he glanced apologetically at Dumbledore as Umbridge left the room. "There was a witness, Albus, I had to follow it up-"
"Quite right, Rufus, quite right," said Dumbledore gravely, there being no love lost between the two men.
There was a wait of several minutes, in which nobody looked at each other, then Estella heard the door open behind her. Umbridge moved past her into the room, gripping by the shoulder Cho's curly-haired friend, Marietta, who was hiding her face in her hands.
"Don't be scared, dear, don't be frightened," said Professor Umbridge softly, patting her on the back, "it's quite all right, now. You have done the right thing. The Minister is very pleased with you. He'll be telling your mother what a good girl you've been. Marietta's mother, Minister," she added, looking up at Scrimgeor, "is Madam Edgecombe from the Department of Magical Transportation, Floo Network office – she's been helping us police the Hogwarts fires, you know."
'And doing such a piss-poor job of it, too,' sneered Estella inwardly, her eyebrows shooting beyond her hairline at how the woman was positively infantilising the snivelling Ravenclaw traitor. "Jolly good, jolly good!" said Scrimgeour without conviction. "Like mother, like daughter, eh? Well, come on, now, dear, look up, don't be shy, let's hear what you've got to – galloping gargoyles!" As Marietta raised her head, Scrimgeour leapt backwards in shock, nearly landing himself in the fire. He cursed, and stamped on the hem of his cloak which had started to smoke. Marietta gave a wail and pulled back the neck of her robes right up to her eyes, but not before everyone had seen that her face was horribly disfigured by a series of close-set purple pustules that had spread across her nose and cheeks to form the word 'SNEAK'. Remembering, then, a discussion from long ago that had seen Estella and Hermione holed up in a Muggle ice cream parlour, talking about the teenaged Muggle server that Hermione had gone to grade school with and how he had not always been afflicted with acne, Estella had to stop and marvel at the older Gryffindor's handiwork. For Hermione Granger to have inflicted such a serious case of acne onto someone really went to show her vindictive side. Estella had an inkling that this was no short-term jinx.
"Never mind the spots now, dear," said Umbridge impatiently, "just take your robes away from your mouth and tell the Minister - "
But Marietta gave another muffled wail and shook her head frantically.
"Oh, very well, you silly girl, I'll tell him," snapped Umbridge. She hitched her sickly smile back on to her face and said, "Well, Minister, Miss Edgecombe here came to my office shortly after dinner this evening and told me she had something she wanted to tell me. She said that if I proceeded to a secret room on the seventh floor, sometimes known as the Room of Requirement, I would find out something to my advantage. I questioned her a little further and she admitted that there was to be some kind of meeting there. Unfortunately, at that point this hex," she waved impatiently at Marietta's concealed face, "came into operation and upon catching sight of her face in my mirror the girl became too distressed to tell me any more."
"Well, now," said Scrimgeour, fixing Marietta with what he evidently imagined was a kind and fatherly look, "it is very brave of you, my dear, coming to tell Professor Umbridge. You did exactly the right thing. Now, will you tell me what happened at this meeting? What was its purpose? Who was there?"
But Marietta would not speak; she merely shook her head again, her eyes wide and fearful. Estella didn't know if it was a fear of more words spelling themselves out on her face, the poisonous looks she was giving the pathetic excuse of a DA member, or a combination of both, but Marietta was no longer talking.
"Haven't we got a counter-jinx for this?" Scrimgeour asked Umbridge impatiently, gesturing at Marietta's face. "So she can speak freely?"
"I have not yet managed to find one," Umbridge admitted grudgingly, and Estella had to fight the smug look from her face, and the whoop of prideful joy on behalf of Hermione's jinxing ability. Not that it was really saying a lot, though, when Umbridge probably couldn't find a snowflake in a blizzard. The malicious woman went on. "But it doesn't matter if she won't speak, I can take the story from here. You will remember, Minister, that I sent you a report back in October that Potter had met a number of fellow students in the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, and that Black was among them - " she smiled victoriously in Estella's direction and went on "- the purpose of this meeting with the students," continued Umbridge, "was to persuade them to join an illegal society, whose aim was to learn spells and curses the Ministry has decided are inappropriate for school-age -"
"I think you will find you're wrong there, Dolores," said Dumbledore quietly, peering at her over the half-moon spectacles perched halfway down his crooked nose. "If you remember, the Ministry Decree banning all student societies was not put into effect until two days after Harry's Hogsmeade meeting, so he was not breaking any rules at all in the Hog's Head."
Estella had to cough loudly to cover up the barely repressed whoop of joy that worked its way from her traitorous lips. Had she her way entirely, she would have punched the air with a fist and danced a little jig around the toad-faced woman, chanting 'in your face!'; so all things considered, Estella was proud of her restraint.
Like a clever fox pouncing for the kill, Umbridge then attempted to draw light on Harry's group having convened several times over the course of the past six months since the relevant Decree banning such congregations was introduced. When, however, a repentant Marietta would not back her up with the evidence she so sorely needed, the woman quickly lost her temper.
"Why are you shaking your head, girl?" she snapped at the girl furiously.
"Well, usually when a person shakes their head," said McGonagall coldly, "they mean 'no'. So unless Miss Edgecombe is using a form of sign-language as yet unknown to humans-"
Estella's fist actually twitched this time, as she fought the urge to punch the air and applaud the Deputy Headmistress' wit. In front of her, Umbridge seized Marietta, pulled her round to face her and began shaking her very hard. A split second later Dumbledore was on his feet, his wand raised; Kingsley started forwards and Umbridge leapt back from Marietta, waving her hands in the air as though they had been burned. It had taken all of Estella's resolve to ignore her imprinted instincts and stand back, allowing the adults to handle the situation. Her wand had been slipped from her wrist holster and into her hand in time with Dumbledore's reaction, but having caught the older man's movement from where she stood, she knew that it was safe.
"I cannot allow you to manhandle my students, Dolores," said Dumbledore and, for the first time, he looked angry.
"You'll want to calm yourself, Madam Umbridge," said Kingsley, in his deep, slow voice. "You don't want to get yourself into trouble, now."
Umbridge was halfway through a breathless retraction when Estella spoke up, rubbing her arm as she did so. Glancing from the Minister to Kingsley, the opportunity to rid the school of Umbridge once and for all presented itself, and Estella grabbed it with both hands.
"It's a bit late for that now, I think," she said clearly, rolling up her sleeve to expose the ugly black mark of a handprint, neatly imprinted around her arm. "You all saw how she dragged me in here – she had me in such a grip all the way from the other end of the school! And after I had repeatedly assured her that I would willingly come with her to your office, Headmaster, and asked her to let me go – I'll show you my memory, if you want, and you know they can't be tampered with!"
"That mark could have already been on her arm!" said Umbridge in defence, though her argument was feeble and she knew it.
"An exact approximation of your hand, Madam?" said Kingsley in a dangerously low tone, having instantly sidled up alongside Estella and inspected her bruises with an analytical eye. "Aurors are trained in the basics of forensics, Minister, and I can assure you that this bruise is fresh. It would have taken a considerable, persistent force to do this much soft tissue damage so quickly. I think I would like to see that memory, Estella-"
Led to Dumbledore's Pensieve by Professor McGonagall, Estella extracted the memory of her encounter with Umbridge, revealing it to the adults from start to finish.
"I daresay, Dolores, that this is a rather disturbing scene," said Scrimgeour, looking scandalous for having placed such a volatile woman at the school. "Do you have an explanation?"
"She was hiding something from me!" she raved manically, pulling a long sheet of parchment and waving it around. "Can't you see? She's covering for them! I have the list right here! It's proof, you see!"
Quick as a flash, before anyone could read anything off the DA's Charter, Estella leapt forward and attempted to wrestle the paper free from the woman's grasp; the mere instance of her contact with the parchment and a specifically timed deliverance of a non-verbal password, efficiently wiping the parchment clean of all evidence.
"Let me see that!" she said insolently, "you drag me away from my piano and keep me up past curfew… I deserve a look at your so-called evidence!"
Wrenching the paper away from the girl, who placidly stepped back, her job finished, Umbridge unscrewed the parchment scrunched in her hand and held it out for all to see. Pointing, then, to a name that was not there, the woman jabbed that finger at the paper and convinced all who were not already sold on the idea, that she was emotionally unstable.
"There! See! There's your name! It's right there! Don't deny it!" she said viciously, a maniacal leer on her face as she thought she had just won.
"See what?" said McGonagall plainly, but not before exchanging a knowing look with Estella. "You're holding up a blank piece of parchment, woman!"
"No I'm no-" said Umbridge, shaking the parchment in emphasis, as though it would make the words stand out more, her voice cutting off when she realised that the page was, indeed, blank. "It's jinxed! Like that girl's face! Explain that, then! Why would a jinx take effect just as she was telling me about the group?"
"Perhaps a classmate had jinxed her to suffer the consequences if she lied?" suggested Estella hypothetically. "I didn't see her break out in any more spots when she took back her words, after all."
"The girl's right, that is entirely more plausible," said McGonagall, "or would you persist with your fixation and care to test the parchment for invisible inks?"
"YES!" said Umbridge enthusiastically, slamming the paper down on the desk in front of Dumbledore and commanding him to check it. When Dumbledore, McGonagall, Shacklebolt or, as she discovered his name, Dawlish collectively concluded that the sheet of parchment was nothing more than a piece of paper charmed to issue comments to those who interacted with it, Umbridge screamed in frustration and attempted to set fire to the page. When the fire rebounded off the paper and landed itself, instead, on the hems of Umbridge's robes, Estella exploited the woman's moment of distraction by taking the time to grin madly at the woman's back and rub her hands together in glee. Estella couldn't take any of the credit, however, since the counter-measures on the parchment had entirely been of Marauder-design, the process dutifully recorded by her studious godfather and submitted to an out-of-print Zonko's magazine nearly twenty years previously.
This latest performance, coupled with the carefully recorded appraisals McGonagall had been meticulously keeping and the tabloid evidence, was enough to spell an end to Umbridge's career as High Inquisitor. It was a satisfying moment, over six months in the making, when Dolores Jane Umbridge was ceremoniously stripped of her title and quite forcibly removed from the school by the two Aurors. Estella could only nod solemnly as Scrimgeour apologised to her profusely, it now being apparent to him that the woman he had entrusted to watch over the students of Hogwarts, had a somewhat unhealthy fixation on both Estella and Harry. Thinking of the ugly scars that had been forever carved into the back of Harry's hand, Estella informed the Minister gravely that Harry – and in fact several other students – may have additional charges to lay against the woman, she promised to invite Harry to do so at his own discretion; staying behind after McGonagall led Marietta Edgecombe to the Hospital Wing and the Aurors had left with Umbridge.
"Minister," she broached cautiously, genuine nerves allowing themselves to be known. "I am not sure if you are aware, but it was Ms Umbridge's recommendation that stripped my father of his parental rights and effectively turned him back into a fugitive. I cannot stress enough how unfounded her accusations have been - "
"Ah, yes," said Scrimgeour primly, chafing at the realisation that the Ministry had again short-changed one Sirius Black – this time on his own watch. "I had been somewhat misinformed of your father's psychological state…" he racked his brains "…however, if my memory serves me correctly, it was not just Ms Umbridge who made claims - "
"If it's about the scene in Diagon Alley-" said Estella defensively, only to be cut off by the Minister.
"Relax, child, I am not an unreasonable man," said Scrimgeour in that recognisable paternal tone that, when directed at her, made Estella want to gag. Thinking of all the people who were currently being held at the Ministry under suspicion of being a Death Eater, Estella could only beg to differ, but she was not about to confront the man on his other shortcomings, lest he go on the defensive. The man rubbed a hand over his face in thought and continued. "I cannot entirely disregard the accusations, but if you can secure me the character references of three people who, upon investigation, can be shown to have no measure of dependence or bias towards your father, then I think we can avoid the trauma of a committal hearing, don't you? There are, after all, so many other things that our courts need to be concerning themselves with, wouldn't you agree?"
Estella nodded enthusiastically, and vowed to have the appropriate testimonials on his desk before dawn. She already knew who she would pick, and just to be safe, she'd pick more than three.
The following morning, a special edition of the Daily Prophet had been issued, an official statement from the Minister expressing his apologies to all the students and parents of Hogwarts; the article detailing the specifics of Umbridge's derangement and removal from the school. As it was formally decreed that all existing Educational Decrees as instated by the ousted High Inquisitor were henceforth rendered null and void, an unbridled cheer broke out in the Great Hall, rapturous joy resonating throughout the castle's walls in what felt like the first time since Voldemort's return.
News on the Hogwarts grapevine, as usual, travelled at a dizzying pace. Absolutely nothing was sacred, and by lunch time, everyone had known what had transpired in the headmaster's office after the DA meeting was busted up. Of the three housemasters with DA students amongst their alumni, only Professor Flitwick was in his office. Needless to say, the vertically challenged Ravenclaw was rather surprised to have several students tumble out of his private fireplace without warning, but upon hearing the word 'Umbridge', he humoured them. In turn, Estella was revered as a modern-day heroine, younger students milling around her, asking to see her arm, most all sporting strategically placed black armbands that, they explained, simulated her 'battle wound'.
Estella, in turn, was a little disturbed by all the sudden attention. Younger students looking up to her whilst the older students took the time to slap her on the back was something she was entirely unfamiliar with. How she had managed to go from being an outcast in primary school to something of a celebrated and respected hero at Hogwarts was a dizzying transition, even though it had not happened over night. Keeping to the people she knew were her 'real' friends, Estella could not help but to identify with Harry, and the struggles he had faced since day one at the school.
"I don't know how you do it," said Estella, flopping down next to Harry on the second-last day before the Easter holidays. "Thank goodness the holidays are coming up – hopefully the hysteria will die down… hey, Harry, are you all right?"
"Yeah," said Harry listlessly, doodling on the edge of his parchment with his quill. "Just not looking forward to Occlumency tonight."
"Well have you been practicing?" asked Estella.
Harry scowled, the tension in his body transferring itself to his nib, which stabbed through the page.
"I would practice, if I knew how to!" snapped Harry, immediately apologising to Estella and confiding in her the course of his typical Occlumency lesson.
"Bloody hell," said Estella, frowning, "I knew he wouldn't be easy on you, but I had no idea-"
Her voice trailed off as she recalled a conversation with her uncle about his loyalties. He was loyal only to her, he had assured her, unwilling to elaborate any further. The implication that he was then deliberately hindering Harry's attempt to learn Occlumency both shocked and disturbed her. Surely it would be in her best interests for Harry to learn Occlumency so that he might be better placed to defeat the Dark Wizard that more or less wanted Estella dead. Surely her uncle had heart enough to look out for a child… if not, then why'd he save Harry all those times?
'To score points,' an all too clever voice said inside her head. Her frown deepened, and she forced herself to push her doubts about her uncle's intentions asides. He had vowed to always be there for her, and would do anything to that end, so wasn't that enough?
"I'm coming with you tonight," she said decisively, thinking that if she could observe her uncle at work she would know what to have the man change in her best interests. "Where's your Invisibility Cloak?"
"I can't have you do that," said Harry solemnly, "your uncle would go ape if he found out you went behind his back like that; I don't want to come between you."
"If he goes ape," said Estella with a grim look of determination on her face, "I'll turn his favourite cauldron into a banana. I'm coming with, and that's that."
An Invisibility Cloak and Notice-me-Not Charm later, and Estella found herself following Harry to her uncle's dungeon office later that evening.
"You're late, Potter," she heard her uncle say coldly, as Harry closed the door behind her, a subtle brush of his hand against the invisible fabric assuring him that she had followed him in.
Severus was standing with his back to them, removing, as Estella understood to be as usual, certain of his thoughts and placing them carefully in Dumbledore's Pensieve. He dropped the last silvery strand into the stone basin and turned to face the only student he could see in the room.
"So," he said. "Have you been practicing?"
"Yes," Harry lied, looking carefully at one of the legs of Snape's desk and moving into his usual position, ignoring the slight jab Estella gave him for his dishonesty. She then stood aside, by a shelf on the wall, and watched as the two wizards stood in front of her, facing each other and separated only by a desk between them.
"On the count of three then," said Snape lazily. "One – two – LEGILIMENS!"
Estella leapt back at the force with which her uncle had thrown the spell at Harry, her eyes widening in shock as the boy in its path staggered back and fell to his knees, unable to repel the attack. Chewing on her bottom lip to stop herself from calling out, she watched silently as Harry desperately tried to push her uncle out of his mind, sweat already beginning to dot his brow with the futile effort.
"Clear your mind, Potter!" Estella heard her uncle sneer at Harry with loathing, lowering his wand slightly. "Get up! Again!"
No sooner had Harry gotten to his feet and pushed the bridge of his glasses up his sweaty nose did Estella see her uncle fire the spell again, with equal force.
"Again!" the man snap, motioning with his wand in sharp jerky movements for the boy to regain his feet.
Her uncle was mid-way through a barrage of insults when Estella had reached her limit. Gripping the edges of the Invisibility Cloak in barely controlled anger, she was just about to pull the fabric free and reveal herself when the office door banged open and Draco Malfoy sped in. Her anger replaced by surprise, Estella had to scramble not to be run into.
"Professor Snape, sir – oh – sorry - "
Draco was looking at her uncle and Harry in some surprise.
"It's all right, Draco," said Snape, lowering his wand. "Potter is here for a little remedial tutoring."
Estella didn't think she had seen Draco look so gleeful since the fleeting expression he had sported on his face when he had thought he'd just caught Harry and the DA red-handed.
"I didn't know," he said, leering at Harry.
"Well, Draco, what is it?" asked Severus.
"It's Mr Filch, sir – he needs your help," said Malfoy. "They've found Montague, sir, he's turned up jammed inside a toilet on the fourth floor, and the Bloody Baron is having a rage."
"How did he get in there?" demanded Snape. With a pool of dread settling in her stomach, Estella had a feeling she knew… Draco was on task with his mission to fix the Vanishing Cabinet, thus creating a portal between the school and Knockturn Alley. Glancing at her uncle before realising that the man could not possibly see her, she could only assure herself that he uncle was keeping Dumbledore informed of Draco's progress, such was his duty as an Order member.
"I don't know, sir, he's a bit confused," Draco had responded in the meantime.
"Very well, very well. Potter," said Severus, "we shall resume this lesson tomorrow evening."
He turned and swept from his office. Draco mouthed, 'Remedial Tutoring?' at Harry behind his housemaster's back before following him. Estella flittered over towards the door, then, making sure they were gone, threw off the stuffy confines of the Cloak. Noticing then, that the curious Gryffindor was being held back by the patch of shivering light dancing on the doorframe, she cleared her throat. As the Boy-Who-Had-a-Death-Wish approached the innocuous looking Pensieve that was lit up with the swirling mists of her uncle's thoughts, she groaned. Before she could put words to her protest, the boy had stuck his head in the bowl without preamble, and Estella had no choice but to follow if she stood any chance of getting him out and keeping him out.
Estella sighed sadly as she happened upon her uncle's first stored memory, of a fifth year DADA exam. In the peripheral of the memory's vision stood Harry, openly gaping as he stood over the desk of his teenaged father. Staying slightly behind the sad, yet excited, boy, she approached the familiar scene and smiled reminiscently as James went through the trademark motions of yawning nonchalantly and rumpling his hair, sending a cautious eye towards the supervising teacher before turning and grinning at another familiar face, four rows back. There, unsurprisingly, Estella could see her father give James a thumbs up as he lounged back in his chair, at ease. She bit back a laugh as her eyes caught a girl behind her father eying him hopefully, and her grin widened when she detected her godfather's teenaged presence two seats along from the girl. She was just about to approach Harry, when she suddenly found herself staring at… well… herself. There, alongside Remus, casually nodding her satisfaction at her work and shooting the teenaged boy an encouraging look, was Estella, in her Aries Ollerton disguise. A hand flying to her mouth, Estella was unable to muffle the squeak of surprise that wrenched itself from her throat.
"I remember this!" she said excitedly, momentarily forgetting that Harry did not realise he had company in the Pensieve. Tugging on Harry's sleeve excitedly, she pointed herself out, bouncing up and down in excitement as feelings associated with the memories she had, in her grief, tried to consciously forget, came flooding back. "That's me… as Aries."
"You look kinda like Moony," said Harry, watching in amusement as the disguised girl in the memory and her future godfather chose that time to scratch their chins with their quills in identical mannerisms. "It's no wonder Padfoot tried to set you two up!"
Estella thumped him hard on the arm, before leading them out of the classroom, slightly behind the memory-forms of the Marauders.
"Did you like question ten, Moony?" asked Sirius as they emerged into the hallway and began to trace a path towards the nearest exit.
"Loved it," said Remus smugly.
"Of course he did," snickered Estella, informing Harry of the question.
"D'you think you managed to get all the signs?" said James in tones of mock concern.
"I think I did," said Aries (Estella), coming up alongside them and shooting them a knowing look. "One: he's sitting next to me in the exam. Two: he sticks his tongue out slightly when he's concentrating on an answer. Three: you don't want to get between him and chocolate-"
"Oh c'mon Ollerton, you've got it bad, admit it!" said Sirius, cutting her off. "Just snog him and get it over with, will you?"
"You'll regret saying that," scowled Aries cryptically, punching Sirius in the arm in much the same way her future self had just pulled Harry in line. Harry rubbed his arm again in sympathy and shot Estella an amused look.
"Don't you start," she wagged a finger at him, pointing to where her past self stormed off towards the fringes of the memory and vanished, but not before coming up alongside a particular redhead. At Harry's wide eyes, her voice softened. "C'mon, I'll tell you later… I'm a little curious to see how the beginning of this panned out."
Estella refused to elaborate what she meant as they followed the Marauders out onto the grounds of the school, the four boys making a beeline for the shade of a familiar tree by the lake. When she noticed that Harry was constantly shooting glances at the memory-form of her uncle, who was following at a listless pace, the Slytherin too preoccupied in his exam paper to really know where he was going, Estella tugged his sleeve and assured him that her uncle wasn't taking this memory anywhere else anytime soon.
"How d'you know?" asked Harry.
"Because I was there, you idiot!" said Estella, as they began to watch James play with the Snitch under the shade of the beech tree, taking advantage of the unseasonably warm weather.
Remus had, by now, pulled out a book and was reading. Sirius stared around at the students milling over the grass, looking rather haughty and bored, but very handsomely so. Estella gave Harry a running commentary that explained to the fascinated boy how her father had started dating her mother at the beginning of that year and that he had subsequently attempted to try and make himself look good from afar, just in case she was within eyeshot.
James, meanwhile, was still playing with the Snitch, letting it zoom further and further away, almost escaping but always grabbed at the last second. Wormtail was watching him with his mouth open. Every time James made a particularly difficult catch, Wormtail gasped and applauded. After five minutes of this, Harry wondered why James didn't tell Wormtail to get a grip on himself, but as Estella promptly informed him, James unabashedly enjoyed the attention. Harry also noticed that his father had a habit of rumpling up his hair as though to keep it from getting too tidy, and he also kept looking over at the girls by the water's edge. Beside Harry, Estella rolled her eyes.
"Put that away, will you?" said Sirius finally, as James made a fine catch and Wormtail let out a cheer, "before Wormtail wets himself with excitement."
Wormtail turned slightly pink, but James grinned. In the present time, Estella whooped and Harry mirrored his father's grin almost flawlessly.
"If it bothers you," James said, stuffing the Snitch back in his pocket. Sirius was, as Estella shared her suspicions, probably the only person who James would stop showing off in front of.
"I'm bored," said Sirius.
"This'll liven you up, Padfoot," said James quietly. "Look who it is…"
Sirius' head turned. He became very still, like a dog that has scented a rabbit.
Excellent," he said softly. "Snivellus."
Estella stiffened, her eyes narrowing in contempt as the shape of her uncle approached them unknowingly. Behind her, James and Sirius had stood and passed through her, causing her to shiver. As the memory of the two lead Marauders leading an unprovoked attack on her uncle played itself out, Estella had to fight to keep reminding herself that her uncle and father had, for all intents and purposes, put the past behind them as much as possible.
Having never seen the exchange before, Harry was mortified; Estella supposed he was seeing a side to his dad that no one who knew him really liked to draw attention to, and she could only grasp his hand in understanding. Turning her eyes away from the torment the pair were putting the teenaged form of her uncle through, Estella took the opportunity to observe her godfather. The first time she had come across this moment, back in the past and in disguise, she had been far too preoccupied with trying not to hex somebody to really notice anything around her. Now she could truly study the look of discomfort on Remus' face as his friends ridiculed their classmate, Estella felt a wash of anger surge through her. Realising then, that her godfather probably felt as though he could not say anything, less he lose the acceptance of friends that, to him, were always few and far between, Estella suddenly found that she didn't know who to feel for more at that moment; her uncle or her godfather. For though it was inexcusable, the way James and her father were singling her uncle out, she knew that her uncle had given as good as he got whenever the backs of his foes had been turned. Remus, on the other hand, had not asked for his condition; he had not asked to be forever judged by something he could not control. Estella was torn.
"Why didn't you intervene?" Harry asked him suddenly. Looking over to him, Estella could see that his face was pale and drawn. Her ears still ringing from their other-worldly proximity to an infamous Potter – Evans screaming match, she supposed that the impassioned teenager's future son was feeling somewhat disheartened by his parents display of contempt towards each other.
"Because my uncle would not have appreciated it," said Estella stiffly, a familiar urge to protect her uncle catching her off-guard. Next to Lily, stood her former self, an easily recognisable look of barely-controlled anger clouding her disguised features. Remembering then, what had transpired after her uncle had left, she straightened. "My uncle valued self-reliance… I think it was a bigger blow to his psyche, being saved by a girl, than losing a battle to two armed opponents."
She looked at Harry, and saw that he was still looking a little lost. "Don't worry," she assured him, "your parents loved each other very much, it's all in my Mum's diary, remember? She couldn't believe either how they could be so mad for each other when they had spent so much time before then being mad at each other. It's amazing what love can conquer… and y'know what I think? I reckon your parents had it bad for each other even then, except James was too self-assured for his own good and Lily put him in his place just to spite him."
The memory began to fade once Lily had stormed off, Severus having taken the opportunity during the future couple's argument to skulk away. Acting quickly, Estella placed her wand at her temple and removed a thought from her mind; the process of doing so whilst actually in a Pensieve causing the pair to get caught up in the swirl of the enlarged mist and spun into a new memory. Finding themselves precisely where they left off, Estella pointed out to Harry that this was what had happened after her uncle had left.
Two surprised Gryffindors found themselves up-ended by their ankles, a deceptively controlled Ravenclaw sporting an additional two wands in her non-wand hand.
"How do you like it, huh?" Estella's 1970s alter ego, Aries Ollerton, was mad to the point of being deathly calm. "How about I remove your pants, huh? See if you think that's so funny then!" she called over to the girls from the lake edge, who had since inched closer to the action. "What do you say, ladies? These boys are always so pointedly trying to get themselves in our pants, are they not?" she narrowed her eyes at Sirius and added; "or trying to set us up with their friends…"
At the implied mention of Remus, both James and Sirius twisted their heads to try and catch a glimpse of their werewolf friend. Moony had, by now, given up all pretences of reading his book and was looking up with some interest.
"Don't look at me," he said, raising his hands innocently. "You were asking for it, and far be it for me to cross a woman scorned."
"Ah, Remus, you've got it baaaaaad," Sirius drawled at his friend, rolling his eyes before setting the fourth marauder in his sights. "Oh Peter…"
Wormtail gave a squeak and covered his face with his hands, as though that would stop Aries from seeing him.
"Uh, Paddy, I don't think he'll help us," said James grimly, still managing to rumple his hair for his audience even though he was upside-down. "What are you going to do with us now, Ollerton?"
"Oh, I think everything you did to Snape'll suffice," said Aries coolly, "though you can pick a hex to skip, Potter, since he got you one in the face."
"Good, I'll ditch the Scourgify," said James with relief, smirking as his partner in crime scowled at him.
"You're playing with fire, Ollerton," Sirius warned. "Let me down now and I won't prank you too badly."
"You wouldn't," said Aries smugly, and Estella grinned at the memory. "Oh, unless you want Selena to find out what you did to her brother-"
Sirius swore, and James laughed.
"Take it like a man, my friend," said James.
"Oh, that's rich," Sirius snorted, adopting a snivelling tone; "Mr 'good-I'll-ditch-the-Scourgify! Whatever happened to solidarity? I'd take a slice to the cheek to even the playing field before piking out -"
"Nice try, Sirius, but I don't particularly want to explain to your girlfriend why I had to carve up your face," said Aries levelly, not falling for Sirius' ruse.
But before Harry could see the rest of Estella's memory and see what her former self had done to exact revenge on her uncle's behalf, a hand had closed around each of their arms, swiftly pulling them from the stone basin.
Morbidly fascinated by her uncle's anger, Estella was, at the same time, increasingly scared by its intensity. After manhandling Harry and screaming at him to never divulge what he'd seen to any one, her uncle threw Harry from his office and rounded on her.
"WHAT DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?" he yelled at her, closing the distance between them in an instant, and shaking her hard. "How dare you? Did you have fun? Reliving the good times? Answer me!"
"How dare you!" Estella shot back, blinking away angry tears. "How dare you think that of me!"
"You go around pranking a member of this staff, elevating yourself as a hero of the school just like your father before you," spat Severus bitterly. "You can't blame me for not knowing what to think anymore!"
Estella didn't warrant her uncle's poorly-drawn comparison with a comment, she was that insulted. Instead, she seethed.
"Well, glad I am not the only one not knowing what to think!" she snapped, "what the hell are you doing in these so-called Occlumency lessons?"
"I don't have to answer to you!" roared Severus, his knee-jerk reaction to finding the Boy-he-Loathed plundering his private thoughts colouring how he was now dealing with his niece.
"Well then neither do I!" said Estella, just as heatedly. It utterly crushed her heart to think that her uncle did not know her as well as she thought he did. Backing up against the Pensieve, she pulled out her wand and moved to retrieve her memory when a hand on her wrist stopped her. Glaring coldly at her uncle's furious expression, she relaxed her hand in his grip and he let go. "On second thoughts," she said scathingly. "I'll leave it… and you can see for yourself how hard I've always tried to do best by you."
"Where do you think you are going?" Severus called her back, a flick of his wand slamming the door in her face before she could leave. "If you think I am going to allow you to return to… to… that father of yours and spend the holidays alongside that Potter brat after this week's performance, you are sorely mistaken!"
Estella let out a mirthless laugh.
"What, were you so caught up in disgust because I had done something that remotely reminded you of a school time foe that you did not even stop to read the paper?" she snapped. "Newsflash, Uncle Sev, you're not my guardian anymore! I got one-up on Umbridge, won the respect of my peers - peers that once outcast me and teased me, mind – and I gave my father back his rights. I was having what might count as one of the best days in my life until YOU HAD TO GO AN RUIN IT! WHAT'S HAPPENED TO YOU?"
"WAR!" said Severus, letting out a repressed growl of frustration. Stepping back and rubbing the back of his neck, he tried to calm down. "This war is what's happened to me…"
Recognising the signs of weakness in one of the last people Estella had ever expected to see them in, Estella regarded her uncle coolly and inched towards the door. If it became apparent that the adults around her couldn't even keep it together, then she didn't have any hope.
"Pull yourself together!" she said, sneering at her uncle in disgust. This tough-love approach to insecurities was a hardline that Estella was most used to having her uncle pull on her. "You have a job to do!"
Still grasping to regain hold of his resolve, Severus soon found himself in an empty office, staring blankly at the place in the wall where his niece had just been.
"A job," said Severus, his voice heavy, "indeed I do."
"He WHAT?" shouted Sirius, causing Harry and Estella to jump. They, along with Lupin, had been lounging around in the lounge room of their London home, enjoying a rare trip away from Grimmauld Place. It was the first night home for the Easter Holidays, and the teenagers had just finished relaying to their guardian the events of the latest Occlumency lesson. The main purpose of the discussion had been to reassure Harry that his parents were good people and had fallen madly in love with each other, but had quickly moved onto the dark-haired Slytherin.
"Are you serious, Harry?" said Remus quickly. "He's stopped giving you lessons?"
"Yeah," said Harry, surprised at what he considered a great overreaction. "But it's OK, I don't care, it's a bit of a relief to tell you the - "
"I'm going to have a word with him," said Sirius forcefully. "Estella, you were there, why didn't you talk him back into it-"
"Because he was mad as hell at me, all right?" snapped Estella, the memories of her uncle's words still fresh on her mind. "He thinks I encouraged Harry to look, and he was sour because my getting rid of Umbridge reminded him of something you or James would do - "
"I thought he was past that!" said Sirius, positively livid at what he was hearing. "Do not tell me that he is developing a unfair view of you because of something I did twenty bloody years ago! It's bad enough he can't separate Harry from his father, but his OWN NIECE?"
"I don't know what it is, Dad," said Estella despondently, "he's been pushing me away for the better part of the year… it's not always noticeable and most of the time I've convinced myself that I'm imagining it, but something's changed in him and I couldn't help but notice that he was stand-offish when I saw him over Christmas break;" she frowned as the thought came to her for the first time. "Do you suppose something may have happened while he was spending Christmas with the Malfoys? Something he's not sharing? He did tell me that 'the war' is having an effect on him…"
"Stop it Estella, just stop!" said Sirius, motioning an end to her words with a slice of his hand. "You always try to justify what he does, and I'm getting sick of it. This war is effecting everyone, but I would never… I would never… jeopardise the life of a child, let alone push my kids away! He has no excuse!"
Heeding her father's words, Estella began to rant. "You know, I wouldn't even have to have snuck a look if he would just have taught Harry properly to begin with! All he does is yell at him to 'clear his mind' before jumping straight into his head… no explanations or anything… I've half a mind to try and teach him myself!"
"Would you?" several voices asked her tentatively.
Estella paused, and then began to shake her head, no. Before his daughter could say as much, Sirius cut in.
"I don't know much about Occlumency, kid, but from what little I have been able to understand in the past few months, it is important to be taught by someone that you trust and who you feel comfortable with," said Sirius. "That may have worked when your uncle was teaching you, but it'll never work for Harry…"
"But I am not a Legilimens," Estella pointed out. "I can go over the theory of Occluding his mind, but I can't very well test him on it! Harry… you have to go to my uncle and tell him that he can't stop your lessons… he should know that Dumbledore won't stand for it."
"I can't tell him that, he'd kill me!" said Harry, outraged. "You saw him when we got out of the Pensieve!"
"Yes, and I also saw him after he threw you out, remember?" Estella reminded him with a shudder. "Sure, he was still livid when I left, but once he's cooled off he'll… he'll… well he won't kill you, at least…"
The last of her sentence, 'I think' was added silently, her heart heavy with the possibility that, perhaps, just like her uncle, her ability to see things clearly was blinded by her personal prejudices.
END CHAPTER.
