Prison Release Program.
Well, it only took me a week to end up in the Hospital Wing. Thankfully, I was not unconscious this time. Pomfrey is as nice, but smothering as ever. Although I do sometimes wonder how she missed several key warning signs regarding my upbringing.
Or maybe she noticed them, and her concerns were disregarded. Would not surprise me.
"What's the damage?" I asked her.
"Fatigue," Pomfrey told me. "Mass fatigue. You're very lucky not to be unconscious. You channeled some pretty powerful magic to defend yourself from the dark force which afflicted the late Professor Quirrell."
Well, it was not completely accidental, but let's just roll with it. The least time I have to spend in the hospital wing, the better. I spent way too much time here the first time around.
"So, I'm just a bit worn down and sore…"
"You're lucky not to achieve burn out, young man," she tutted. "I'm going to have to keep you for the rest of the day, for observation. Thankfully, your vitals are fine. If I think you're fine by the morning, then you may go."
Pomfrey had been in the process of checking my blood pressure, as I thought about everything which happened in this first week. I rattled things. Although, I wonder what Hogwarts would make of what happened with Quirrell.
Likely, that Harry Potter burned a teacher alive. That seemed to be very likely given how these things normally went.
I sat in my bed, waiting for Pomfrey to return. Seconds later, she came out and stopped at the entrance.
"I wish to speak with him, Poppy."
Well, look who's back, no more than an hour after I burned his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Albus Dumbledore stood in the flesh, and looked rather worn down and tired.
"Is this really necessary, Headmaster?"
"It should not take me any more than fifteen minutes."
"If you insist."
Dumbledore stepped into the room and gave me a grandfatherly smile.
"Professor Dumbledore," I curtly said.
"You've been through quite the ordeal, haven't you, Harry?"
"Well, yes," I told him. "But, I'm used to it. I've been through ordeals my entire life, after you dropped me off my Aunt and Uncle's house, where I spent ten years of my life living in a cupboard under the stairs."
Dumbledore shifted, and Pomfrey tutted, at my casual statement. She muttered something about unfit guardians.
"Well, this is not the time to discuss that," Dumbledore said. "You must be terrified that the moment you touched Professor Quirrell he burst into flames…"
"Well, I was only trying to help that poor man up after he tripped," I said to Dumbledore. "Then, he started to burn. Then, I saw this hideous face on the back of his head. And when Snape…"
"Professor Snape, Harry."
Really, Dumbledore?
"Well, when that dickhead came in…"
"Harry, you really should show respect to your teachers."
Does this include the one who willingly took on Voldemort as a parasite, I wonder.
"Fine, when Professor Dickhead came into the room," I said, ignoring Dumbledore's disapproving gaze. "He said the shade I saw as the Dark Lord, you know Voldemort."
"Yes, I'm afraid Quirrell made some bad choices, and it doomed him," Dumbledore said. "He has fallen into the trap like many wizards have before him, believing that Voldemort would have been a benefit to him, would have made him stronger."
"I think we're skipping the real problem here, Professor," I told him. "How does a shade of one of the most dangerous wizards in the world was able to get inside of this school, undetected. I thought that Hogwarts was supposed to be safe. But, so far, we've had a dangerous corridor which you did not bother to inform the parents about, and this incident with Quirrell. You know, I feel like I was lied to, and don't like it."
"I'm sorry you feel that way, Harry."
I rolled my eyes.
"I scanned the grounds the moment Professor Snape contacted me…"
"Did he tell you that he told you so?" I asked.
"Well, yes, Severus did in fact say something along these lines."
My eyes rolled back briefly before I commented.
"So, you were warned, and still did nothing? I wonder if it had anything to do with that package you had Mr. Hagrid collect when he collected me, sir. I wonder if said package was placed inside of that dangerous corridor, and you used it to bait Voldemort. Putting all of your students in danger. And you seemed to want me to know that you were bringing it into the school."
"Well, that point is moot," Dumbledore said. "For Voldemort has departed, weaker than ever before. It will be some time before he regains what little strength he had."
"Why did he come after me, sir?" I asked him. "To kill me. When I was a baby."
I gave Dumbledore a chance to tell me the truth. I knew, obviously, but I gave him the chance.
"A very delicate topic. And one which I'm afraid you're too young to discuss. I will tell you when the time is right, but not today."
So, he chose the hard way. Of course.
"So, you think it's fine to put me with a woman who hates me…"
"I'm certain your aunt does not hate you, although she is disappointed she did not have the ability to perform magic like your mother or yourself."
"So, don't you think that would lead to hate or resentment, sir?" I practically hissed.
"I will write a letter to them once more, telling them my displeasure of how you were treated."
Oh, a stern letter, that would show them.
"You mean, just like you dropped me off at their doorstep on a cold November morning, and did not give them a chance to decline to take me in…"
"Professor Dumbledore, I believe that's enough. You are distressing my patient."
"Yes, Poppy, I'm sorry."
"Now his blood pressure is elevated," Pomfrey said. "With all due respect, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"Very well. I hope you will be well soon, Harry."
Pomfrey fed me a potion which would help relieve my nerves before I could make any number of snappy retorts to Dumbledore's statement. By the time I could speak again, he was gone.
I drifted off to sleep after a short amount of time. Visitors had been banned due to my blood pressure. Which would not have been a problem in the first place, had Dumbledore not been insufferable.
Sometime in the early morning hours on Saturday, I woke up, surrounded by balloons, flowers, chocolates, cards, and other gifts. Many of them from older students, but a few from my yearmates. I received a nice card from the Ravenclaws in my year, with an assurance that none of them thought that I was malicious with my handling of Quirrell.
Even though I kind of was. But, it was only because he had the unpleasant problem of having a Dark Lord sharing space with the back of his head.
A few notes from some of the upper year students, wishing me the best. And some of the witches that I was a bit older, urging me to look them up when I hit my first maturity.
I am going to have to make a note about this. I shifted through the gifts.
I held out a fairly large Teddy bear with black fur, green eyes, and a lightning bolt scar on it's head. Cute little guy.
Why am I not geting royalties off of stuff like this? Another thing I have to look into, among the many others.
"Good morning, Mr. Potter. You have a visitor."
I looked up from my table full of goodies.
"I insisted none of them bother you," Pomfrey said. "They wanted to wish you well on a speedy recovery."
"Well, I could have enjoyed the company, but after the Headmaster, I suppose it is best that I rested."
"I'm glad that you see things my way."
Because, honestly, it would be more trouble than it was worth to argue.
"Yes, Miss Clearwater, he's awake right now."
Penny rushed into the room as fast as her legs could carry her. Being that it was a weekend, she was wearing a more casual attire. Nothing really extravagant, just a black tank top and shorts, but she wore it well. And made be detest the constraints of Hogwarts robes on certain people even more.
"Oh, Harry, I heard what happened…"
Penny threw her arms around me with a hug, which I eagerly returned. I could feel her body pressed up against mine and allowed the hug to linger for a moment.
"It was bad, but it's better now that you're here."
And your body is pressed up against mine, that also makes me feel a lot better. Penny gently pulled away, and sat on the bed, still holding me close, and stroking my hair and rubbing my neck.
"Don't tell me what happened right now," Penny said. "We want you to get out of here and upsetting you will just have Madam Pomfrey keep you longer."
"Good plan," I said.
"I took Scabbers to Doctor Chang," Penny told me. "We should know the truth about his affliction before too long."
Nice coded message, my pretty Raven. I smiled.
"Another reason to get out of here," I said.
Penny leaned back to stretch which gave me a look at her toned belly and navel. And thoughts of maple syrup and chocolate entered my brain, for some reason.
Down boy, bad Harry, heal!
Penny bent over to look at the items on my table.
"Oh, that tart," Penny murmured when she read one of the notes.
"What was that?" I asked.
"Nothing, it's just..the fifth year Slytherin prefect," she said. "Farley."
Right, Gemma Farley, I remembered her letter. One of the ones that lamented that I was not a few years older.
"Well, the Head Girl sent me a letter saying I set her ablaze any time," I told her.
Penny shook her head and turned around to get a good look at the pictures.
"You have a lot of well-wishers," Penny said.
I noticed a crudely drawn card with a peacock breathing fire at a crude stick figure with a turban from Eddie, which said, get well soon "my buddy." I showed it to Penny who snickered. Especially at the note, asking me to autograph it and he would split the take 30/70.
"If only Eddie put half as much time into his class work, than he did into one of his schemes, he would be one of the top students in Ravenclaw," Penny said. "How do you get into these messes?"
"If I knew, I would tell you."
Penny leaned in to kiss me on the cheek, while holding me on tight. Pomfrey moved in to check my vital signs.
"Well, other than your heart rate accelerating slightly when Miss Clearwater kissed you on the cheek, everything appears to be fine."
Penny flushed, for a second. I just smiled, having no shame around a beautiful woman.
"You're free to go, although I do want a follow up next week. Wednesday, after class?"
"Consider it a date," I told Pomfrey. "Penny?"
"Mmm?"
"Could you give me a hand with this stuff. There's no way I can carry this all out. And I have to write thank you notes to quite a few people.
"Sure," Penny said.
Penny produced a bag. I had a feeling there was a lot more than this which met the eye.
"A lot bigger on the inside?" I asked her.
"Yes, and charmed to keep your chocolate and other goodies fresh, and for nothing to spill," Penny said. "It took me a year to get all of the charmwork right. And a lot of trial and error."
"You should be proud of it," I told her.
Penny helped me gather up all of the items from my well wishers. I would have to sort them out later. Right now, I figured there was still time to put in an appearance at Breakfast.
I arrived at Breakfast at the Ravenclaw table, trying to act calm and collected. The eyes of the entire Great Hall was on me, when I walked past. Penny walked over with me, having heard the entire story on our way down, where Cho was waiting at the edge of the table. And she was not the only one.
"Is my head on backwards or something?" I asked.
"There's a lot of rumors this morning," Cho said. "Flint over in Slytherin is saying that you were being sent to Azkaban for murdering Professor Quirrell."
Oh, yes, I remembered Flint. Looked like a troll, smelled like a troll, had the manners of a troll, with teeth which made him look like the cover model of the Big Book of British Smiles. Was held back once.
"Those idiots," Daphne said. "I'm glad I wasn't sorted into Slytherin."
"They're not all bad," Marietta said.
"Just the loudest and smelliest ones," Tracey said.
"Fits Flint like a glove then," I said.
"It does," Cyrus said.
"And yet, he's Quidditch Captain," Roger said in disgust.
"So, what happened?" Marietta asked.
"We told them," Padma said. "Quirrell tripped. You tried to help him up. He burst into flames, and yet…awful things started to happen."
"You-Know-Who was on the back of his head," Daphne said.
"Wait?" Marietta asked. "You mean that rumor was…but he's supposed to be dead."
"Who?" I asked.
"You-Know-Who," Marietta said.
"Sorry, I don't know who."
"You know, him," Daphne murmured.
"Sorry, I don't know."
"He-Who-Must-Be-Named," another older student piped in.
"Who?"
"You-Know-Who."
"Sorry, I don't know…"
"They mean Voldemort," Su said quietly.
Damn, I wondered how far I could take this Abbott and Costello inspired bit. Half of the table shuddered. I had been surprised that quiet little Su Li was the one who spoke Voldemort's name without blinking.
"Su, you really shouldn't say his name…" Mandy said with a slight shudder.
"Well, we were going around in circles," Su said.
"It would be a lot easier if more people did," I said. "But, that's not a discussion I feel like having now. Yes, when I pulled off Quirrell's turban, I saw the most awful and terrifying face."
"Nothing like that is human," Daphne said. "And it could give you chills on a hot summer day."
"Snape claimed it was the Dark Lord, or whatever is left of him," I said. "On the back of Quirrell's head. Right underneath Dumbledore's nose the entire time."
I made sure to make that point very crystal clear to anyone listening. Not only the Ravenclaws listened in, but Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Slytherins were also snooping around.
"He's supposed to be dead," Marietta said.
"He's supposed to be," I agreed. "Even if Snape was wrong, there was something awful inside of this school."
"Was it him?"
Susan Bones appeared at my side, looking terrified and shaking. Given how many family members she lost to Voldemort, I understand.
"Sorry," Susan said. "You shouldn't have to talk about this…"
"No, he really shouldn't," Daphne said.
"People are saying…well I don't believe it, but people are saying that you're the next...You-Know-Who," Susan said.
Oh, there's a surprise.
"Did we not tell everyone it was an accident?" Padma asked.
"Yes, multiple times, but everyone has made their minds up," Susan said. "Quirrell was already dead before you touched him, I think."
"The minute he accepted that parasite into his body, he was," a seventh year Slytherin muttered, acting like he was not part of the conversation.
Some people accepted it was an accident. Some people thought I was the next Dark Lord. Some people thought I was a hero for toasting an evil dark wizard. And everything in between.
Malfoy stopped in front of me and stared for a long time.
"Was it him, Potter?"
"If you mean Voldemort…"
"Yes, him," Malfoy said. "Was it?"
"According to Snape, yes."
Malfoy heard that piece of information, swallowed, and nodded. I did wonder about his reaction. I caught sight of Zabini, who was looking at me with cautious awe for a few seconds before turning away.
I was obviously not going to enjoy a good Breakfast. McGonagall finally arrived to start telling people off and telling them to leave me alone.
"All of this over helping a tripped teacher," Lisa commented.
"Yeah, that will teach you to offer anyone a hand in the future," Morag said before her fellow yearmates gave her one of those looks. "What? Too soon?"
Everything calmed down enough. Although I still got a few looks, they at least allowed me to enjoy the remainder of Breakfast in peace.
"Auntie Amelia!"
The surprised scream of Susan Bones caused me to look up from my Breakfast. Sure enough, Amelia Bones, appeared at the Great Hall, with a small group of Aurors with her. McGonagall moved over to engage with Amelia, and the two of them were having an intense conversation.
"I just wish to speak with him on a personal matter."
"Dumbledore…"
"Is in enough trouble as is," Amelia told McGonagall. "There's certain matters which I need to interview Mr. Potter about."
"Well, I trust your judgment, Amelia," McGonagall said. "Mr. Potter, if you please, you will need to go with Madam Bones. She wishes to speak to you. If you want, there is a classroom which you can use to inform him. I will ensure it is private."
"That won't be necessary, Minerva," Amelia said. "Because, I will have to take Mr. Potter straight to my office for reasons of national magical security."
McGonagall opened her mouth for a second.
"I'll deal with Albus, if he complains. But, he has far more pressing concerns."
Harry rose up to his feet, and a few of his fellow Ravenclaws rose up to join him.
"Madam Bones, what happened…"
"Miss Greengrass, don't worry, Mr. Potter is not being charged with anything," Amelia said. "I merely have to inform him of some confidential matters dealing with his current situation."
I walked off. I trusted Amelia Bones, one of the few adults in a position of authority that I would ever not have a problem sticking my neck out for.
So naturally, she was killed for being too competent. She took down several Death Eaters in the process, and no less than Voldemort had to finish her. And from all accounts, Amelia made him work for it.
We're avoiding that this time, naturally.
I really could talk about the many lovely physical attributes that Amelia Bones had, but I would be taking my eye off of the ball. Although the buxom, mature, and extremely powerful witch is extremely alluring, there's a very serious reason why I'm here.
"Susan mentioned that you would not be too happy with Dumbledore casually admitting that there is a dangerous corridor at the school, and not informing the parents of it," I said.
"She's correct, but that's not the point that you've been called to the Ministry," Amelia said. "And the circumstances regarding the late Professor Quirrell yesterday, while I may have to speak with you in time regarding it, you're not here at this moment. I wish to speak to you about an important matter regarding the rat known as Scabbers."
Just before this conversation could go any further, the door opened. A stunning Asian MILF entered the room, and I figured she would have to be Cho's mother. And following behind her, a bit confused as to why he was summoned here, was one Arthur Weasley.
"Madam Bones, and…Harry Potter?" Arthur asked.
"Calm, yourself, Arthur," Amelia told the man. "Mr. Potter, this is Arthur Weasley, the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office."
"A pleasure," I said.
"Yes, Mr. Potter, you've been quite the topic of conversation around our dinner table as of late," Arthur told me. "Molly, my wife, was in quite the mood about the circumstances which you brought to light at Hogwarts. She thought Dumbledore was better than that."
"Many people do," I said.
"And this is Doctor Mei Chang."
"Harry Potter, my daughter was happy that you were sorted into the Ravenclaw house," the lovely woman told me. "I believe she's quite fond of you."
Oh, how the tables often turn. I reached forward and took Mei's hand, feeling the soft and silkiness of her fingers. She looked at me, curiously seizing me up before going into a more professional demeanor.
"It's nice to meet you," I said. "Curious to see why you're here. I asked Penelope to take my new rat in for a checkup."
Mei and Amelia locked eyes for a minute. Mei sighed and gently placed a hand down onto my cheek.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart."
"He's not dying, is he?"
"No, honey, he's not," Mei gently told me. "But, you were very lucky to take him to me when you did. Because, Scabbers is not all he seems to be."
"Scabbers?" Arthur asked. "That is my son Ron's pet rat."
"And it once belonged to your third son, Percy," Mei said. "Penelope was clear with me about the ownership history of this particular rodent."
"But how did Harry come to own him?" Arthur asked.
"I bought him from Ron for a hundred and fifty Galleons," I told Arthur.
Arthur looked completely baffled about the situation.
"You bought an old rat from my son for a hundred and fifty Galleons?" Arthur asked.
"What, do you think he could have gotten more?"
"No, Ron should have never accepted that deal," Arthur murmured. "He should know better."
"Well, I only intended on paying seven galleons, so he can buy his own wand," I said. "Snape was not happy that he went to school with a second hand wand. Especially considering Percy was bought a new owl and robes."
Here Arthur shifted, as if he was the one being interrogated.
"Molly insisted that we purchase the owl for Percy," Arthur said. "He got Charlie's old wand…well it once belonged to my grandfather, and it might have been even further back than that. It wasn't in the best shape, but…"
Amelia gave Arthur one of those expressions which could bring chills down the spines of the most hardened of men. I feel like Arthur should grow a set when dealing with his wife and obviously Amelia felt the same.
"You were brought here as an impartial witness to identify the rat, Scabbers," Amelia said. "Does he look familiar to you?"
The case containing the sedated Scabbers had been put on the shelf. Arthur gave the rat an appraising look and nodded.
"Yes, that's my son's pet rat," Arthur said.
"Of ten years?"
"Yes," Arthur confirmed. "He was found in our garden in November of 1981. Almost a week after…"
"Voldemort killed my parents and tried to kill me," I said.
Arthur shuddered at the forbidden name, but nodded.
"You've had him for nearly a decade," Amelia commented. "And yet, he's not licensed and there are no records of him being checked out from any licensed care experts of magical creatures. You took a wild rat into your home without checking him out, with seven children."
Well, it really sounded irresponsible when you put it like that.
"Percy pleaded with Molly, and Molly agreed," Arthur said. "Molly checked out the rat herself and she found nothing wrong with him. As long as Percy took care of him, he was allowed to stay."
"And your wife is a licensed care expert of magical creatures?"
"Well no, but…"
"But Doctor Chang is," Amelia said. "And Doctor Chang found several things in particular wrong with Scabbers the rat."
"I swear, he's clean, and Molly personally neutered him," Arthur protested.
I really am struggling not to make the obvious comment about Molly Weasley having experience in neuteuring men. Starting with her husband.
I did amuse myself with the image of horror Pettigrew would be under, with a deranged Molly Weasley coming at his rat bits with her wand to give him the Bob Barker treatment.
"Yes, I can see that he's been fixed," Mei said. "But, he's not a rat."
"He's not a…pardon?"
"He's an Animagus, in disguise," Mei said. "A man."
Silence filled the room and Arthur looked gobsmacked.
"You mean, this man can turn into an animal, like Professor McGonagall can?" I asked.
"Yes, although he's unregistered, whoever he is," Amelia said.
"Scabbers has…oh Merlin," Arthur said. "Who is…?"
"I don't know, Arthur, but you realize that we're going to have to launch a full investigation on this matter," Amelia said. "And the identity of the man behind the rat."
"What are you doing with him?" I asked.
"A special containment cell, where we can safely reveal who he is," Amelia said. "He lived as a rat for ten years. He may be feral and dangerous if we bring him into his human state. We aren't taking any chances."
Arthur swallowed and nodded. He looked shaken at this revelation.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Arthur said.
"Doctor Chang, Arthur, I must ask you to wait outside," Amelia said. "I want a word with Mr. Potter in private.
Arthur could not look me in the eyes. Mei walked over and hugged me. She obviously had been used to consoling young children about their pets, although this was different.
"I'm sorry you had to find out this way," Mei said. "About him. I'm going to have to write to Ron and Percy and break the news to them about their former friend."
I nodded and Mei walked off. The Aurors moved to contain the rat which left me in the office along with Amelia.
The moment we were alone, she turned to me.
"Mr. Potter, I believe in my line of work there are no coincidences."
I raised my eyebrow at Amelia's statement.
"You requested to look at the transcripts of Sirius Black's trial and you just happened to arrange for this rat animagus to be unmasked," Amelia said. "You have to tell me the truth, Harry…if you don't mind me calling you that."
"Not at all, Madam Bones," I told her.
"There are no coincidences," she repeated. "I'll let you know that there are no trial transcripts for Sirius Black because he had no trial. Bartemius Crouch placed him straight into Azkaban without a trial. Dumbledore gave us his word Sirius Black was the Potter's secret Keeper. Eye witness accounts told the Ministry, before the memories of Muggle eye-witnesses had been modified, that Black went after Pettigrew and the explosion killed twelve Muggles and one Wizard, that being Pettigrew. The only thing that was left of Pettigrew was his finger."
Amelia looked me dead in the eye. I realized she was one of the few people in this world I could not bullshit. And I respected her for that.
"Scabbers the rat is missing a toe, much like Peter Pettigrew was missing a finger," Amelia told him. "There are no coincidences. You knew, didn't you? Before you had the rat taken to Doctor Chang, you knew he was Pettigrew. If you did, I want to know how."
I looked Amelia dead in the eye.
"Nothing I say leaves this office?"
"Nothing you say leaves this office," she confirmed.
I told Amelia the story of the Marauders, how Pettigrew, James, and Sirius became Animagi to help keep Lupin company on the full moon. I left out the part about time travel, but I spun it how when I returned to the Wizarding World, it sparked long suppressed memories, and the more I looked into things, I pieced everything together. Lupin verified my suspicions but I needed Doctor Chang to bring the matter to Ministry's attention.
"I see," Amelia said as she made a final note. "Three unregistered Animagi under Albus Dumbledore's nose. Getting Black a trial will not be easy, especially given there are some who have a vested interest in Black remaning in Azkaban."
I read her statement to be "Crouch, Dumbledore, Fudge."
"Given your circumstances, you might find it hard to trust anyone in authority," Amelia responded. "When Susan wrote to me about your outburst at the Sorting Fest, I decided to start investigating your own personal circumstances. It was the most optimal time to do so given you preoccupied Dumbledore with other matters."
I smiled in spite of myself. It was the perfect time to get something like this done.
"You've been looking into my living arrangements?" I asked.
"Your records, everything from the past ten years," Amelia said. "The evidence against it not being in your best interest to return there is compelling. Although, Dumbledore's word still holds a lot of sway, so we have to do this by the book in a way which cannot be disputed. Both yourself and the situation with Black. Which I feel we should deal with first."
"You know better," I said. "So, he didn't receive a trial. What will it take to get his day in court?"
"Someone to advocate for him to receive a trial would help," Amelia said. "If a close relative of Sirius Black advocates for him, someone who will not be discounted off hand, then we should be able to get this matter to trial before the end of the year. Pettigrew is unfortunately not enough. The best we can hope for with the current circumstances, is Pettigrew getting three years in Azkaban for being an unregistered Animagus."
I nodded firmly and considered what I might have to do.
"Does it have to be a close relative?" I asked.
Sirius's closest relatives, well I thought of Andromeda, but she was considered a blood traitor and thus those in power in the Ministry would discount any petition from her to bring Sirius to trial. I hated it, but that one is out. Nymphadora was out for similar reasons.
The others were dead and in prison.
There was one though.
I wonder. Narcissa was most certainly respected enough. But, would she be compelled to push for Sirius to have his day in court?
"It would help," Amelia said. "If multiple individuals advocated for Black's trial, then it would help even more. But, a close relative would help. Given certain circumstances, I hope you could appreciate how difficult this would be."
"There has to be a way," I said. "Innocent or guilty, I have the right to know."
Amelia gave me a sympathetic smile. She agreed.
"Legally, we should remove any reasonable doubt," Amelia agreed. "I will do everything I can to push the matter, but I fear if I push too far, some will react in a way which is not favorable."
I read that as Amelia having the fear that Sirius would end up dead in his cell before the truth could be revealed. I could see where she came from.
A message flashed across Amelia's desk. She looked sour. I can only imagine, although for once I did not pry.
"It's something I have to deal with," Amelia said. "I will contact you if I have any further information that might help. And I will update you regarding the circumstances of this investigation should it be necessary. On all fronts."
"Thank you, Madam Bones."
"No, thank you for asking questions that should have been asked a long time ago."
I returned to Hogwarts and just roamed the hallways for a little bit. I figured I should try and get a message to Narcissa. I wondered if Kreacher would compel her to meet with me.
I stopped short at a very familiar object.
Damn it, no.
It was the bloody Mirror of Erised.
I was not going to look at it. I was not going to look into it.
I mean, I knew what I was going to see. It was not going to improve my mood.
This was a different place than where I encountered it for the first time around.
"Harry?"
I turned around and came face to face with Daphne.
"How did it go?" she asked me.
"Fine. It's just…have you seen Penny?"
"She's upstairs," Daphne said. "History of Magic study group, remember?"
How could I forget?
"I think she wants to know what's been going on," Daphne said. "Better tell us when you get up, what Madam Bones said…well if you want to anyway. I understand if you just want to talk to Penelope about it. The others do as well."
"I'll see, I'm still processing it all."
Tracey came around the corner, never far behind from Daphne.
"What happened now?" Tracey asked. "You're not in trouble?"
"No," I said. "Let's go. Study group, remember."
And I chanced another look, but the accursed mirror was gone.
Curious and curiouser.
My second week at Hogwarts was a lot less eventful than my first. We were all settling in, getting used to a new school. Classes were going smoothly.
I got in contact with Narcissa, who agreed to meet me at the Hogs Head late Friday night. Not exactly the place I expected a woman like Narcissa to be. She hinted we would have much to discuss, and this meeting would be beneficial to both of us.
I am rather curious to see what she meant.
I also ran into the Mirror of Erised two more times, in two different locations in the castle. I still refused to look at the thing.
And at the end of the week, I was back to Defense Against the Dark Arts. A group of myself and my fellow Ravenclaws walked to class.
"I heard one of the sixth years say they found a replacement for Quirrell," Lisa said.
"Really?" Sophie asked. "I'm surprised anyone would be brave enough after what happened to Quirrell."
"Well, who expects that to happen?" Daphne asked. "He melted like ice cream under a hot July sun."
As long as it was not Umbridge, I was open for anything. Well mostly anything. If it was Umbridge though, I would just burn the entire school down, consequences be damned.
Some bald Ministry stooge stood in front of the class. Well, it was not Umbridge.
"Good morning, class," he said in a nassaly voice. "I understand there was some unpleasantness with your last Defense Against the Dark Arts class."
"Oh, you mean other than You-Know-Who being on the back of a teacher's head?" Tracey asked.
The Ministry stooge gave an annoying cough.
"There are a lot of nasty rumors going around, regarding Professor Quirrell's sudden death," the stooge commented. "The officially Ministry of Magic sanctioned investigation stated that Professor Quirrell suffered an unfortunate bout of Spontaneous combustion. Any manifestations which you feel you might have seen is based off of a hallucination you received from the shock of seeing your teacher burst into flames. I can assure you that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named perished on October the Thirty-First Nineteen Eighty One."
I developed a cough which sounded a lot like "bullshit, bullshit, bullshit."
"We know what we saw…"
"You are children, and we are trained Ministry investigators," the stooge said. "We know better than you."
You know, I wondered if I could set this one on fire and make it look like an accident as well.
"So, you're our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Lisa asked.
"Oh, heavens no, I'm just here to give you children some assurance that the death of your previous teacher was an unfortunate accident," the nasally little Ministry stooge said. "I am happy to report that we have found a new teacher. Minister Fudge has just put into action a new progressive policy to rehabilitate those who have committed wrongs against the magical community and successfully reintegrate them into society…"
The speech droned on and on, but all I heard was "blah, blah, blah ,blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah."
"Minister Fudge's progressive new policy will solve the shortage of applications to the position of the Defense Against the Dark Arts," he droned on. "Therefore, we have arranged an inmate from Azkaban Prison who will be well adept in teaching you how to defend against the Dark Arts and all of it's assorted nastiness."
"Wait, wait, you're saying that you released a prisoner from Azkaban to teach us?" Padma asked.
Thank you, Padma for being fluent in political bullshit and translating it for the rest of the class.
"Steps have been taken to assure the safety of all of the students of Hogwarts, based on rigid Ministry educational standards," the Ministry drone said dryly.
"Surely, Dumbledore doesn't approve of this?" I asked.
What am I saying? Dumbledore loves giving second chances.
"Albus Dumbledore has agreed it would be beneficial to rehabilitate certain individuals, and we have taken the steps necessary to ensure that your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will not be a threat to any students here. Your new teacher will teach this class until we find a more permanent solution. But until that moment, Minister Fudge's progressive policy will be in place for your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher…."
"You can't do this to me! You can't force me to teach in this death trap! I demand you return me to the Dementors!"
I know that voice.
Oh dear.
"I'm serious, I deserve the Dementor's kiss! All the people I killed. All the Mudbloods and blood traitors I tortured! I committed tax fraud. Counterfeiting. I ripped tags off of Mattresses. I once kicked a kitten! Granted, it was only Mrs. Norris, but still!"
A pair of Aurors guided a very familiar, gaunt looking woman, wearing some kind of strange runic bracelets.
"I'm a bad woman, so don't send me to teach at Hogwarts! This is a violation of international human rights!"
"Children, it is a pleasure to introduce you to your new temporary Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Bellatrix Lestrange."
Well, there goes the neighborhood.
My head nearly hit the desk. Bellatrix snarled at her new students, and screamed like a banshee. Which was good, because it would have been so silent otherwise that I thought I had gone deaf.
Good news, me setting a teacher on fire might not be the most traumatic thing they would have to deal with this year. So, that's something.
Actually, her being here might work in my favor. Time to make lemons into lemonade.
Or at least take the lemons and pour the juice into someone's open wound.
To Be Continued.
