Much thanks to those who reviewed over the last half-week. Enjoy the next chapter! ~F
Chapter Thirteen
Unearthed
Severus had just finished placing several memories he'd prefer to keep private into Dumbledore's pensieve, which the old man had loaned to him for these lessons, when Faykan and Harry entered his office. Harry was looking around, curious at the shelves of jars filled with potion ingredients and Severus' many experiments.
"Shut the door if you please boys." He said and Faykan quickly obeyed, also throwing up wards to prevent eavesdropping and warn them if someone was coming.
"Well Harry, you know why we are all here, but do you have any other questions before we begin?" Severus asked courteously.
"Yes, actually," Harry said, looking up at Severus as he sat in the lone chair in front of Severus' desk, "If Voldemort can access my mind even if I know Occlumency, why do I need to learn it?"
Severus nodded. It was a fair question, with a rather straightforward answer, "Because, the Dark Lord isn't the only Legilimens that you have to worry about. Dumbledore himself is highly skilled at the art of entering other people's minds, and currently your only defense is the block that Faykan has placed inside your mind, and we'd rather that the Headmaster remain unaware of Faykan's continued survival for the time being. And, you, as the possessor of the most knowledge of Faykan, are the one at the highest risks. Therefore, while the Headmaster is preoccupied with his 'brilliant' scheme of a trap regarding you, we will work to shut your mind to him, protecting you both until Faykan chooses to reveal himself."
Harry nodded, looking satisfied with the answer. Severus pulled out his wand, motioning for the boy to rise from the chair and take his own wand out as well.
"You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me, or defend yourself in any other way you can think of," Severus instructed, preparing himself mentally to invade the boy's mind, just once, to see the state of his current defenses.
"And what are you going to do?" Harry asked, eyeing Severus' wand apprehensively.
"I am going to attempt to break forcefully into your mind, to test your current defense to see what we have to work with. I apologize in advance for any private memories I may witness, they shall never be spoken of outside our meetings. Brace yourself, now. Legilimens!"
Flashes of scenes played before Severus' eyes. A boy of five looked on in clear jealousy as another; much fatter boy rode about on a red bicycle. Then the same boy, now nine was being chased up a tree by a vicious looking bulldog. Harry was screaming in his office, but Severus could only hear him partially as the scenes continued. The boy was eleven, sitting under the sorting hat as it listed his qualities, followed by him at thirteen, surrounded by dementors by the black lake. Finally, Harry was sitting in what looked like a massive bathroom, and a fourteen year old Faykan sobbing next to him.
"NO!" came the resonating voice of both Harry shouting and from within Severus' mind, "you're not watching that, it's private!"
Severus was startled out of his viewing by a stinging hex on his wrist. Harry fell to the floor, colliding hard with the leg of the desk. Faykan was at his side immediately, helping him up and back into the chair.
"Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?" Severus asked coolly.
"No." Harry panted.
"I thought not," Severus mused, watching Harry. "You let me get in too far, you lost control."
"Did… did you see everything I saw?" Harry asked hesitantly.
"Flashes, but yes." Severus replied, "I must say though, that for a first attempt that was far better than most would accomplish. You managed to stop me eventually, but you must remain focused. Repel your target with your mind and you will have no need to resort to using your wand."
Harry nodded, still trying to catch his breath.
"For this attempt, I want you to close your eyes," Severus instructed, and Harry obeyed, "Clear your mind, let go of all emotion. Let go… on the count of three… one… two… three… Legilimens!"
For a few moments, Severus saw nothing, but then the scenes started playing again; fourteen-year-old Harry flying above the gaping maw of a red dragon, then an eleven year old boy gazing into the enchanted Mirror of Erised, seeing his parents waving back at him, finally the teenager again, weeping openly, clutching the cold body of Faykan outside the maze…
"Nooooooooo!"
Severus staggered back from the force of his expulsion from the boy's mind. The room was shaking, jars rattling in a powerfully conjured wind. Severus drew back, frightened at the look in Harry's face.
Pain was etched in every line of his young face, mingled with great anger, and his eyes burned with intense white fire and light. Severus realized too late that it was foolish to have attempted to teach Harry in this fashion. The boy was far too powerful, and had seen true horrors in his short life.
The winds increased, and lifted Harry into the air, supporting him as the boy's magic raged around the room. Severus felt as insignificant and powerless as a child in the face of such power, reminding him forcefully of Faykan's rebirth, and the sense of majesty returned, but darkened, like witnessing the indignation of an angered god.
The urge to cower in fear was overpowering, but Severus resisted as he saw Faykan sorrowfully take hold of Harry's hand, and pull him gently back to the ground, speaking in the tongue of elves to his friend, drawing him back to consciousness.
"kentano aa' lle harwa amin vee' eithel?"
Severus had no idea as to the words' meanings, but they worked to being Harry out of his enraged state. He slumped to his knees, sobs retching from him as Faykan gathered the smaller boy into his arms, cradling him as one would a small child.
"Sev, I do not think this method is going to work…" Faykan said softly, and Severus could only nod, as he struggled to regain his composer at the sudden spike and plummet of powerful magic in his office.
"Perhaps," Severus suggested, "It would be better to try another tactic at a later time, when is the first meeting you are going to have of your advanced classes…"
"Wednesday I think, that's soon enough that most people won't be worrying about Quidditch…" Faykan broke off, and then swore softly, "I just remembered, I've also been drafted onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team, that will make life more difficult later on. But regardless, for now I agree that we should stop."
And he lifted Harry onto his feet, and they slowly made their way to the door, but Severus held them back for a moment. "Harry, I want you to work on clearing you mind every night before sleeping. Try to calm the storm of your thoughts."
"I'll try sir." Harry said rather weakly, and the two boys left.
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Master was coming…
The word was whispered throughout the blacked corridors, sometimes screamed by those who had already lost their minds to the dementors. But not hers, because she knew she was to be rewarded for her loyalty. The Dark Lord would be merciful on those who were entombed in Azkaban for his name.
A dementor paused in its patrol outside her cell, sensing the dark presence at the same time she did.
He is here…
The prison walls shook with violent explosions, as cell after cell had their walls ripped forcefully outward, revealing the starry night sky above and the tumult of the sea below. Staggering slightly on the loose rubble, the prisoners made their way to the rocky shoreline, where the Dark Lord waited with his followers.
Cackling, she followed, practically skipping to her Lord. The dementors, attracted to the smell of darkness, glided above them all, entranced at the majesty and power of her Master, as a new creature emerged from the dark fortress.
Fear overtook them for a moment, before the aura of the Dark Lord enveloped his loyal followers, shielding the freed prisoners from the new power that had come forth from the depths of Azkaban.
She had heard rumors of such a creature, but had never seen it for herself. The dark being came striding through the sea of dementors, its black tattered cloak billowing around its armored body.
Her Lord came to meet it, speaking in a harsh tongue, full of hatred, and the raspy voice of the creature came in answer. The Dark Lord presented a small golden ring to the creature, and the presence of his magic increased, until the creature backed down, submitting to her Lord's will, as the whole of the earth would soon.
"Welcome Death Eaters, back to the world that imprisoned you," he declared, raising his voice to be heard by all present, "welcome back into the fold on my service, you who were the most faithful. You shall be rewarded for your loyalties."
The cheering of the freed Death Eaters sounded, high and piercing into the night, and she added her cackling laugh to the din.
Bellatrix Black Lestrange was free to serve her Master once again.
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Albus looked on in stoic contemplation as the teachers around him read the front page of the Daily Prophet. Albus had little need to read it himself, the burst of dark magic the night before had told him all he needed to guess that Voldemort had broken open Azkaban at last, taking not only his Death Eaters, but the dementors as well.
Most unnerving of all, was that thanks to Cornelius blatant refusal to look past his own reputation, that this unfortunate event was most likely placed upon Sirius, thus causing him to become even more infamous than ever.
Minerva leaned over to him and whispered urgently, "What are we going to do about this Albus?"
"Nothing…" he replied, and looked calmly at her face of horror.
"Nothing!?" she repeated.
"Nothing, at least until Voldemort moves into the open and tries to seize the prophecy, then we will strike." Albus repeated softly.
"Albus, have you seen this?" Minerva said, pointing to a tiny article on page ten of the daily prophet she had fluttering around an inch from Albus' nose.
'Ministry of Magic Worker Vanishes:
St. Mungo's Hospital promised a full inquiry last night after Ministry of Magic worker Broderick Bode, 49, disappeared mysteriously from his bed in a fully locked ward after being injured in a workplace accident some weeks prior.
No representative from St. Mungo's has been available for comment as to how Mr. Bode may have vanished from under their care.'
Albus had some difficulty read the article, as Sybill Trelawney was absently drumming a strange rhythm several seats down the table, and when the other teachers looked over at her, they noticed she wasn't even aware of the drumming herself.
'Odd,' Albus thought, as the way she had been drumming almost sounded like faint war drums…
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Draco wasn't surprised at the news of the released Death Eaters. Over the Christmas break it was nearly all that Lucius would hint about, and Draco was sickened by how his father felt that this was the beginning of a new era in wizarding history, the second rise of the Dark Lord, and how 'Potter was living on borrowed time now.'
Draco was both terrified and worried about what his father was going to do for the Death Eaters, but he was even more worried about his Aunt Bellatrix being free again. It was a relief to return to Hogwarts, and this first meeting of what was being coined the A.D.A. was looking like it would ease the cold worry clutching at Draco's mind.
Entering the Room of Requirement Wednesday evening, Draco noted the slight change from the regular D.A.'s room, a fifth door with a large black bat marked on it. As the other filtered into the room in pairs or trios, they also speculated about the mysterious new door, questioning Harry and Hermione about it, but they remained stubbornly silent about it.
Draco understood why immediately when his Godfather swooped through the door dramatically, shocking several students, and causing Terry Boot to bolt for the door.
"Enough." Professor Snape said coolly, silencing the nervous muttering and causing Terry to skid to a halt in front of the door, "I am here at Mr. Potter's and Mr. Stanton's request, to advise and help teach you more advanced Defense against the Dark Arts."
"But what about Umbridge's new rule?" Boot called out, frozen in place halfway to the door. Draco frowned; the boy did have a fair point. The horrid pink woman had passed a new decree banning teachers from discussing anything not directly related to their personal subjects with their students.
"In which case, Mr. Boot," Professor Snape replied calmly, "I will have to rely on your loyalty to not betray any of this club's secrets…"
That silenced everyone's suspicions immediately. If Professor Snape was breaking Umbridge's rules, then it was pretty clear that they were doing the right thing.
"If there are no more questions then," Harry piped up, causing everyone to turn to him, "then I suggest we get started… Um," he hesitated slightly, "Professor, if you'd select a few students to begin Occlumency with, we'll divide everyone up between martial, magical and metal defense"
Severus nodded, and beckoned Draco, Blaise, the Weasley Twins and Luna Lovegood over to the cluster of chairs while Harry took Ron, Neville, Cedric and Ginny to start practicing with the selection of swords along the far wall, and Hermione and Faykan took the three Ravenclaws; Antony, Michael and Terry to start advanced Spellwork.
It was grueling work, despite the small advantage that Draco had over the others. Professor Snape rigorously invaded each of their minds, showing them the weaknesses of their individual defenses, and how to focus on protecting their thoughts.
After an hour the three groups switched, Draco taking Blaise, Fred, George and Luna to the dueling platform. Harry and his group moved to the cluster of chairs, with Hermione and Faykan moving to take up the martial weapons. There they practiced spells far above what the regular D.A. was attempting, as well as battle transfiguration and the beginnings of healing.
After another hour they switched a final time, and Draco watched as Blaise, Fred and George practiced the fundamentals of wielding a blade. Luna seemed too distracted by the shine of the metal to pay attention, and Draco finally gave up of her as a lost cause in this sense. He caught Faykan's eye and nodded his head in the absentminded girl's direction, and the disguised boy gave a short nod of understanding. They would think of something else for her at a later time.
Finally, at nine, the other members of the A.D.A. were sent back to their common rooms, and Draco sat with Harry, Hermione, Ron and Professor Snape around the table. "Well, that was rather interesting…" Hermione said casually, seeking to spark a conversation.
"Indeed," Faykan commented, "but there may need to be some slight changes for several people. For example, Luna, she doesn't seem to have the frame of mind for martial fighting, perhaps you could pull her into your archery Hermione, and I haven't mentioned this before, but Neville's wand doesn't seem to respond very well for him, so I may need to privately coach him along again. Otherwise everyone else seems to be working out just fine… anything to add Professor?"
Severus looked slightly thoughtful, "It would be advisable to make these advanced students of your have a more prominent role of leadership in the regular D.A., such as teach them a spell ahead of the rest and set them to teaching the smaller groups, while to make certain that each group is doing it correctly."
Harry seemed to like the idea, and Draco could almost see the ideas spinning in the green-eyed boy's mind.
"Well, now that this first meeting is done, and that were perfectly safe from Filch or Umbridge in here, Harry has a private Occlumency lesson to attend to, while we can get some more practice in." Faykan suggested, motioning for Ron, Hermione and Draco to come to the platform with him, leaving Harry and Professor Snape alone at the side.
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Harry felt like Umbridge was attempting to steadily trying to deprive him of everything that made his life at Hogwarts worth living, first with playing Quidditch, then communicating with Sirius, and now visits to Hagrid's. So Harry took vengeance the only way it seemed he could, redoubling his efforts with both the D.A. and the A.D.A.
Harry was pleased to see that all of them, even the somewhat annoying Zacharias Smith, had been spurred on to work harder than ever by the news that ten more Death Eaters were now on the loose, but in nobody was this improvement more pronounced than in Neville.
The news of his parents' attackers' escape had wrought a strange and even slightly alarming change in him. He had not once mentioned his meeting with Faykan, Harry, Ron and Hermione on the closed ward in St. Mungo's and, taking their lead from him; they had kept quiet about it too. Nor had he said anything on the subject of Bellatrix and her fellow torturers' escape.
In fact, Neville barely spoke during the D.A. meetings any more, but worked relentlessly, with Faykan's encouragement, on everything Harry taught them, his plump face screwed up in concentration, apparently indifferent to injuries or accidents and working harder than anyone else in the room. He was improving so fast it was quite unnerving and when Harry taught them the Shield Charm he was the first one to master the spell.
Harry wished his lessons in Occlumency with Professor Snape were going as well, but they were steadily making progress with it. It seemed to work like an illness, getting slightly worse before getting better, as the person adjusted to a new way of thinking. Harry was able to sense whenever the Potions Master entered his mind, and could wall off stronger memories with ease, but they were still a long way from Harry being ready to hold his own against people like Dumbledore or Voldemort.
Quidditch Practice had started up again, much to Faykan's chagrin. He always returned from the pitch slightly moody and withdrawn, but the rest of the team said he flew really well; not as well as Harry, but a decent second choice.
Before Harry knew it, January had flown by, and they were quickly coming up to the Valentine Hogsmeade weekend trip. Harry had been meaning to ask Faykan if there was anything that he wanted them to do that day, since they would have the day mostly free, but his hopes were dashed that morning at breakfast when he saw the horribly depressed face of his best friend.
"What's up?" Harry asked concernedly. Faykan just sighed, and Ron answered for him.
"Angelina wants a full day Quiddich practice today." He informed Harry "Like it's going to help though, Sloper and Kirke are pathetic, even worse than I am. Dunno why Angelina won't just let me resign…"
They were interrupted by the post owls, and in particular an unfamiliar brown one that brought a letter to Hermione.
"And about time! If it hadn't come today…" she said, eagerly tearing open the envelope and pulling out a small piece of parchment. Her eyes sped from left to right as she read through the message and a grimly pleased expression spread across her face.
"Listen, Harry," she said, looking up at him, "this is really important. Do you think you could meet me in the Three Broomsticks around midday?"
"Yeah, I guess…" Harry said, playing with his food. "But why?"
"I haven't got time to tell you now; I've got to answer this quickly."
And she hurried out of the Great Hall, the letter clutched in one hand and a piece of toast in the other.
"Why does she always do that?" Ron muttered before forking another bite into his mouth.
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Convincing Rite Skeeter to interview Harry for The Quibbler was far too easy in Hermione's opinion. At first Harry had been rather reluctant, but with some minor encouraging he recounted the entire event, the Death Eaters that were there, and Faykan's death. Hermione knew they were slightly bending the truth, as Faykan was still alive, somehow, but the rest of the wizarding world didn't need to know that small tidbit of information.
Luna said vaguely that she did not know how soon Rita's interview with Harry would appear in The Quibbler, that her father was expecting a lovely long article on recent sightings of 'Crumple-Horned Snorkacks,'
"…and of course, that'll be a very important story, so Harry's might have to wait for the following issue," said Luna. Hermione didn't bother arguing the nonexistence of whatever creature that it was supposed to be, she was too excited for how Umbridge was going to react.
Both Ron and Faykan were quiet during dinner, and only commented that Hermione's idea was rather brilliant. "How was Quidditch practice?" Harry asked innocently, and received a sorrowful scowl from Faykan.
"It was a nightmare," said Ron in a surly voice.
"Oh come on," said Hermione, looking at Faykan, "I'm sure it wasn't that…"
"Yes, it was," he replied grumpily. "It was appalling. Angelina was nearly in tears by the end of it. I don't know why I let you talk me into playing…"
After dinner, Hermione shepherded the three Gryffindor boys, along with Draco, up to the Room of Requirement for their scheduled training session with Professor Snape.
When they arrived, Faykan mounted the central platform in several bounds, and turned to face the rest of them, a thoughtful smile on his face. "It is time," he said simply, "time for you all to begin learning the most powerful of the forms of magic, ironically named formless, and the elvish words of power."
Draco and Harry beamed, they had been eager to learn Faykan's elvish magic for two years now. Hermione was also excited, but nothing compared to Ron's look of awe and childlike wonder. They all quickly joined Faykan on the dueling platform, and spaced apart from each other, watching Faykan intently.
"Formless magic, or the magic of ones will, does not rely on memorized incantations or wand movements. There are some hand gestures used, and possessing a wand or staff can serve to focus and empower the magic, however they are not necessary…" Faykan demonstrated, moving his arms in slow, circular motions, and without saying a single word, sparks leaped from his fingertips.
Finally, with a sharp, jerking twist, Faykan snapped one arm straight out, and a massive bolt of lightning launched across the room, smashing into the wall behind them all and shattering large chunks of stone from it.
Hermione's eyes flew open at the spectacle, her hair partially on end from the lingering charge in the air. Harry, Draco and Ron were whooping enthusiastically, eager to attempt it themselves. Sadly, they all soon found out that only Harry and herself were even powerful enough to attempt formless magic, and Hermione was only barley able to grasp the most basic elements of it.
By then Professor Snape had arrived, and both Harry and Draco had gone over with him to work on their Occlumency, so Faykan had settled Hermione and Ron on the ground and had them meditate on their animagus forms for a time.
Hermione was narrowing down the list of possible raptor birds that she could be, from the glimpses of her shadow she had seen in the visions. Ron was convinced he was something large, with hooves, but beyond that he had no idea.
After about a half hour of this, Faykan pulled them out of their meditations and set Hermione to work on her archery, she was still having small difficulties shooting accurately while running, and that could prove invaluable if she needed to dodge spells while returning fire.
Meanwhile, Faykan had pulled out his wand, and enlarged it back to its full size, instructing Ron to go get Aeglos, the spear he had left Ron in his false will. They sparred, Faykan instructing Ron of the methods of fighting with the much longer weapon, until Professor Snape called for an end of their session, and sent them all to bed.
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The Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match wasn't as bad as everyone had expected. Despite the fourteen-some-odd failed saves from Ron, and the terrible performances of the beaters, Sloper and Kirke, Faykan managed to beat the Hufflepuff Seeker to the Snitch, after executing a very steep dive moments before Zacharias Smith could put through another goal. The final score was Gryffindor's two hundred and thirty to Hufflepuffs two hundred and twenty.
"Good catch," Harry commented casually to Faykan in the common room, amidst the rest of the tower patting him on the back or shaking his hand. Faykan looked rather adverse to the extra attention, and together he and Harry sneaked off to the dormitory the first chance they got.
"I don't understand how you love being Seeker Harry…" Faykan commented, "I swear the minute you're back on the team…"
"Fay, lifelong ban…" Harry said irritably.
"Only so long as Umbridge is in Hogwarts, personally I give her the rest of the school year maximum, if Fred, George and I don't drive her out sooner." Faykan interrupted with a smirk. "Anyway, the minute your back you can have Seeker back, if I had the choice of position I would have tried out for Chaser, if not playing wasn't an option naturally."
Ron appeared, looking sulky and withdrawn, and out of respect for his feelings Harry and Faykan said nothing to him about the match and calmly ignored him until he was securely behind his curtains, snoring a little too loudly to be entirely plausible.
Harry got into bed, thinking about the match. It had been immensely frustrating watching from the sidelines. He was quite impressed by Faykan's performance but he knew if he had been playing he could have caught the Snitch slightly sooner… there had been a moment when it had been fluttering near Kirke's ankle; if Faykan had been slightly faster, they might have had a larger lead on points.
Umbridge had been sitting a few rows below Harry and Hermione. Once or twice she had turned squatly in her seat to look at him; her wide toad's mouth stretched in what he thought had been a gloating smile. The memory of it made him feel hot with anger as he lay there in the dark. After a few minutes, however, he remembered that he was supposed to be emptying his mind of all emotion before he slept, as Professor Snape kept instructing him at the end of every Occlumency lesson.
He tried for a moment or two, but sleep came with a powerful pull on his mind. Slowly, Ron's snores died away, to be replaced by the sound of deep, slow breathing. Harry dreamed that Neville and Professor Sprout were waltzing around the Room of
Requirement while Professor McGonagall played the bagpipes. He watched them happily for a while, and then decided to go and find the other members of the D.A.
But when he left the room he found himself facing, not the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, but a torch burning in its bracket on a stone wall. He turned his head slowly to the left. There, at the far end of the windowless passage, was a plain, black door.
He walked towards it with a sense of mounting excitement. He had the strangest feeling that this time he was going to get lucky at last, and find the way to open it… he was feet from it, and saw with a leap of excitement that there was a glowing strip of faint blue light down the right-hand side… the door was ajar… he stretched out his hand to push it wide and…
Ron gave a loud, rasping, genuine snore and Harry awoke abruptly with his right hand stretched in front of him in the darkness, to open a door that was hundreds of miles away. He let it fall with a feeling of mingled disappointment and guilt. He knew he should not have seen the door, but at the same time felt so consumed with curiosity about what was behind it that he could not help feeling annoyed with Ron… if only he could have saved his snore for just another minute. Through a small parting in his curtains, Harry saw Faykan watching him concernedly from his bed.
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Albus was distracted from his most recent letter from Lord Zemar, nothing more than a short report of the movements of Voldemort's dark creatures across Europe, by the sight of no less than a dozen owls landing in front of Harry at the Gryffindor table.
Albus already knew from Madam Rosmerta that Harry had met a reporter the previous Hogsmeade weekend. Personally he was very proud of Harry's bravery at confronting his past, and for speaking out against the Ministry, but he was also afraid that it would only cause more problems from Dolores.
Speaking of the Minister's Undersecretary, Albus saw her approaching Harry and his friends at a rapid pace, presumably to find the reason for Harry receiving so much mail. Albus cast a tiny eavesdropping spell, and quietly listened in on the unfolding conversation.
"What is going on here?" Dolores said in her falsely sweet, girlish voice to Harry, who looked up at her with his hands full of envelopes. "Why have you gotten all these letters Mr. Potter?" she asked slowly, and Albus could hear the trace of venom concealed behind them.
"Is that a crime now?" said Fred Weasley loudly. "Getting mail?"
"Be careful, Mr. Weasley, or I shall have to put you in detention," said Dolores. "Well, Mr. Potter?"
Albus saw Harry hesitate slightly before responding defiantly, "People have written to me because I gave an interview, about what happened to me last June."
For some reason Harry then glanced up at the staff table as he said this. Albus quickly looked down at his letter, waiting for Harry to return his attention to Dolores before looking again.
"An interview?" repeated Umbridge, her voice thinner and higher than ever. "What do you mean?"
Will Stanton, who was sitting next to Harry, started drumming on the table with his free hand absently, the same rythmic pattern that Sybill had been doing earlier. From what the divination teacher had been heard saying, the boy had to have some Seer blood in him, as he had given a true prophecy during class earlier in the previous term. The boy even started mumbling to himself, and although his friends and Dolores could not hear himn, the spell picked up sections of what they boy was saying.
"Iron for the Birthday, Bronze carried long,
Wood from the Burning, Stone out of Song…"
"I mean a reporter asked me questions and I answered them," Harry was saying simultaneously, blocking out whatever else the mousey-haired Gryffindor was chanting under his breath. "Here…"
And Harry threw a magazine at Dolored. She caught it and stared down at the cover.
"When did you do this?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
"Last Hogsmeade weekend," said Harry.
She looked up at him, incandescent with rage, the magazine shaking in her stubby fingers.
"There will be no more Hogsmeade trips for you, Mr. Potter," she whispered. "How you dare… how you could…" She took a deep breath. "I have tried again and again to teach you not to tell lies. The message, apparently, has still not sunk in… fifty points from Gryffindor and another week's worth of detentions."
Will snapped out of his trance, and slammed the hand he had been unknowingly tapping onto the table with a resounding crash, casing the entire Great Hall to turn to them.
"How dare you," he hissed at Dolores, "so according to you, anyone's opinion that doesn't match your useless Ministry's is automatically a bunch of lies? So much for people's rights, so much for free speech and thought. You corrupt piece of filth, Voldemort might as well have won if you are what we have for leaders!"
The entire hall was silent, and Dolores simply smirked at pricking someone else's ego into making their own life harder on them. "Another fifty points from Gryffindor, I think, and you may join Mr. Potter in detention Mr. Stanton. Being Professor Snape's protégé doesn't give you free license to do as you please." And she walked off, out of the hall, no doubt to ban the magazine that published Harry's interview.
Glancing at Will Stanton's grim smirk, Albus realized that the boy had purposely goaded Dolores into putting him into the same detention as well. Clever, but Albus would wait to see what the boy had in mind for the unpleasant woman. In the meanwhile, Albus felt that he should find a copy of the magazine; he'd very much like to read what Harry had to say for himself before the dumpy toad-like woman attempted to purge them from the school...
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By mid-morning enormous signs had been put up all over the school, not just on house notice boards, but in the corridors and classrooms too.
BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS
'Any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven.
Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor'
Harry had thought this may hamper the effect of spreading the word to everyone, but Hermione and Faykan smiled as they explained that if Umbridge could do one thing to make sure that everyone read the interview, it was banning the magazine. And they were proven to be quite correct.
And indeed, by the end of the day, though Harry had not seen so much as a corner of The Quibbler anywhere in the school, the whole castle seemed to be quoting the interview to each other. Harry heard them whispering about it as they queued up outside classes, discussing it over lunch and in the back of lessons, while Hermione even reported that every occupant of the cubicles in the girls' toilets had been talking about it when she nipped in there before Ancient Runes.
"Then they spotted me, and obviously they know I know you, so they bombarded me with questions," Hermione told Harry, her eyes shining, "and Harry, I think they believe you, I really do, I think you've finally got them convinced!"
Meanwhile, Professor Umbridge was stalking the school, stopping students at random and demanding that they turn out their books and pockets: Harry knew she was looking for copies of The Quibbler, but the students were several steps ahead of her. The pages carrying Harry's interview had been bewitched to resemble extracts from textbooks if anyone but themselves read it, or else wiped magically blank until they wanted to peruse it again. Soon it seemed that every single person in the school had read it.
The teachers were of course forbidden from mentioning the interview by Educational Decree Number Twenty-six, but they found ways to express their feelings about it all the same.
Professor Sprout awarded Gryffindor twenty points when Harry passed her a watering can; a beaming Professor Flitwick pressed a box of squeaking sugar mice on him at the end of Charms, said, "Shh!" and hurried away; and Professor Trelawney broke into hysterical sobs during Divination and announced to the startled class, and a very disapproving Umbridge, that Harry was not going to suffer an early death after all, but would live to a ripe old age, become Minister for Magic, and have twelve children.
By the time of Umbridge's detention, both Harry had, in fact, earned so many extra points for Gryffindor that they actually were ahead quite a ways from before Umbridge had taken the hundred points from the house.
Entering the domain of the awful woman, Harry saw she had two desks ready for the pair of them. "You know what to do Mr. Potter," Umbridge said in her girlish voice, "As for you Mr. Stanton, I am going to have you write some lines for me."
Faykan just scowled at her as he and Harry sat heavily in the desks. Umbridge smile widened, "I want you, Mr. Stanton, to write 'I will not disrespect authority.'"
Faykan smirked at her, "How many times?"
Umbridge simpered slightly, "Until the message sinks in…"
"As you wish…" Faykan said sarcastically.
Just as Harry set the vile blood-red quill to the parchment, he heard Faykan whisper a spell under his breath.
BOOM!
The office door blew open, scattering stone and wood all over, and knocking both Harry and Faykan to the floor. Harry glanced up, and tried to conceal a smirk of delight. Faykan's 'ghost' had returned, hovering in the newly blasted doorway, eyes shining in malice, pointing a finger at Umbridge. "You had been warned, leave this castle, and never return!"
Before Umbridge could even react, the 'shade' had punched forward with the opposite hand, causing a jet of red-white flames to gush outward, blasting Umbridge's desk and splashing all over the room. The awful woman screamed in shock, flailing backward out of the flames. Harry also shielded his face, but the fire didn't seem to burn him, although he could feel the heat of it. Faykan's projection vanished, but the room continued to burn, and Umbridge fled, leaving both boys to the fire. Harry heaved himself from under the rubble of his desk, and ran over to Faykan.
His friend looked up at him, grinning madly and winked, before closing his eyes and lying completely still. Harry guessed his plan immediately. Hefting Faykan into his arms, Harry bolted for the door. They ran past a panting Umbridge, who was yelling for Filch, and out into the corridor. Harry didn't stop until he reached the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape were there, the Potions Master looking as though he was dropping off some potions to resupply the Ward.
They led Harry immediately to one of the beds, and he deposited Faykan onto it, admiring the rather real-looking burns that covered his body in patches.
"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey demanded, and Harry explained that a ghost had set fire to Umbridge's office, and they had barely escaped being trapping inside. He could tell that Professor Snape knew what really happened immediately, but he played his part well. The Matron said that they had to stay overnight, but that they should be fine by the following day. Harry fell asleep to the sight of Umbridge screaming in an inferno. His scar started prickling right before he lost consciousness entirely…
kentano aa' lle harwa amin vee' eithel? : Potter, would you wound me as well?
Potential Spoilers Ahead: You Have Been Warned!
A building of tension, and a complication to learning Occlumency the way that Severus thinks it is to be learned. Umbridge stalls any plot that could potentially occur, but dealing with her is somewhat satisfying no? Until next time everyone! ~F