A/N: This chapter is dedicated to ShadowFoxTrulsRohk who wrote one of the most fantastic reviews I've ever read. Shadow, I hope this chapter is the secret to your cure. Love, Moonlight
Chapter 19: Unconditional Trust
Harry sat at the faculty table poking his food with his fork. To his left was Albus. For the first time since he'd arrived at Hogwarts, someone other than Wister was to his right. The students were whispering.
Harry couldn't blame them. He'd have been whispering with his classmates too if two teachers and the headmaster disappeared for a day and a half in the middle of a Friday. Harry and Wister had missed classes, and only Harry and Albus had reappeared at all. It was, indeed, suspicious. The other faculty members were curious, but they weren't whispering secretively. They were—
"Really, Albus, if you don't tell me what you were doing, I'll have to imagine the worst," said Minerva, scandalized.
"He didn't start it," said Harry.
"You started it? Crockett, I don't know who told you how things work between Professors here at Hogwarts, but—"
"I am-wait what? Albus, what did you tell her?"
"I told her nothing," said Albus, gazing calmly out at the students. "It seems that when I disappeared with two male professors, Minerva jumped to her own conclusions, as we discussed."
Harry glanced over at Albus and could have sworn his cheeks were a little pinker than usual.
"Albus! It's not entirely unreasonable! I've seen you—especially with—"
"Please have patience, Minerva. I'm going to make an announcement to the school."
"I hardly think your personal life is fit for—"
"Minerva, a little trust, please, and a little less harassment."
"What are you going to do?"
"I won't do anything foolish, Minerva. Looking before I leap is a skill of mine," he replied, as he stood up.
"Bloom was pretty foolish and you had no problem doing—"
"May I have your attention!" said Albus, ignoring Minerva. The great hall was charged with the students' attention. "Thank you. I would like to thank those of you who had herbology or defense against the dark arts classes yesterday afternoon for your patience. I have been told that you handled your teachers' absences with maturity.
"On a more serious note, Professor Bloom will not be returning to his post. He has made the unfortunate choice of allying himself with a dangerous wizard, Tom Riddle. I must impress on all of you: if you see Mr. Bloom or Tom Riddle in the castle, please tell a member of staff immediately. Attempting an encounter with either, especially Tom Riddle, would be futile and dangerous for any student."
Something was nagging at Harry's conscience. Albus Dumbledore was standing in front of the students of Hogwarts telling them to fear the man that Harry killed. These kids would grow up to be in war after war against or with Voldemort. Harry's eyes alighted on Rufus Scrimgeour, a boy in the seventh year. Victim. He saw Ted Tonks. Victim. Bartemius Crouch. Victim. The Prewett twins. Both victims by the hand of Voldemort. Even the carefree fifth year Alastor Moody would be driven to questionable sanity and eventually killed by the monster in question. Once Harry began to think about it, it was difficult to find a person in the room whose future would not be marred by Voldemort.
Even Albus. Even Albus would be killed because of Voldemort.
And Harry knew how to stop it.
Harry had to kill Voldemort.
"We are searching for a replacement for Professor Bloom. Until further notice, herbology classes will be canceled. Professor…" Albus hesitated, closing his mouth and opening it again. "…Professor Crockett will be resuming the Defense against the Dark Arts classes on Monday morning as usual. In addition to that, first years will have their first flight lesson on Wednesday afternoon on the Quidditch field."
Harry tuned out. He was already imagining the scenario that led to Voldemort's early defeat. He imagined circling...never looking away from those red eyes. He saw the room before him rippling with his magic and he saw fear flash through the slit pupils. He raised his wand and—
-and received a sharp prod to his left shoulder. He looked up and met Albus's blue eyes.
"Sorry, Albus. What did you say?"
"I didn't say anything, but I thought you should know that your hair is standing up conspicuously," he said quietly. Harry thought he saw a trace of a frown.
Harry realized that he had tensed his magic as he imagined his encounter with Voldemort. He quickly let go of the energy and felt his hair flop down around his ears. Albus smiled, wiping away the trace of his frown.
"I'm a little tense," said Harry.
"Indeed. And for that, you should get a good night's sleep."
Harry looked around and realized that he and Albus were the only ones in the hall. Harry blinked in surprise.
"Right, of course," he said, trying to figure out how the students had left without him noticing.
They stood up in unison and walked out of the hall in an uncomfortable silence. After climbing several flights of stairs, they exchanged goodnights and parted ways. Harry ascended to his tower and went to bed, thinking about his planned attack on Voldemort.
He would kill Voldemort in the flesh first. Harry was sure Voldemort had only created six horcruxes rather than his eventual seven, so he reasoned that it was possible that Voldemort could sense the destruction of one of them. Voldemort's soul was split into the most magical number of parts—seven—so he might be more powerful than when his soul was split into eight. Harry reasoned that it would be less dangerous to get rid of Voldemort first to get him out of the way before attacking his horcruxes. Harry's thoughts drifted, wandering towards an uneasy sleep. His last thoughts were about Albus. Harry realized that Albus hadn't asked anything about his last name since the incident in the basement. Harry remembered accidentally letting his name slip to Voldemort who repeated it in front of Albus. Albus hadn't brought up the parseltongue either. His last comforting thought reassured him that it was a good thing that Albus wasn't prying anymore. It must mean Albus trusted him unquestioningly like he had Severus.
"It's a little bit funny this feeling inside. I'm not one of those who can easily hide, oh I…don't have much money but, boy if I did. I'd buy a big house where we both could live…If I were a sculptor, but then again, NO…or a man who makes potions in a—"
Harry waved his wand, silencing Elton John's tenor. He got up and went through his morning routine of showering, brushing his teeth, not brushing his hair, and dressing. He went straight to his office and summoned himself some food and a strong cup of tea there. He wanted to make sure his lesson plans for the day were in order.
He had a first year class in the morning, and in the afternoon there were a few batches of his most advanced students. He had a sixth year class, and a seventh year class. The sixth and seventh year students had already taken their O.W.L.s, had all achieved Exceeds Expectations or higher and elected to continue, so they were learning the most difficult magic.
Or they should have been.
Harry was filling in the gaps in their knowledge first. He was trying to expand their magical vocabularies before teaching them anything more difficult. They learned quickly, though, so he expected to move on soon.
He sipped his tea and looked up from the roll of parchment he was scrutinizing. He heard a clunk from the other room and decided the first years had probably arrived. He turned himself invisible and snuck through the door. The eight first years were sitting in a neat semicircle facing the white board. None of them noticed his entry. He smiled invisibly.
He levitated a bit of chalk and charmed it to write on the blackboard.
"We're going for a walk today. Leave your wands and line up by the door."
Harry was pleased to see that nobody got up or left their wands (though Umbridge began to stand up before one of her housemates pulled her back down). He made himself visible in front of the whiteboard.
"Well done. Now, really. We are going for a walk, but please do bring your wands." The class scrambled to their feet, chattering excitedly. Harry remembered that his first enjoyable defense against the dark arts class—the one with the boggart— had been one that began with a walk. Though Harry did have a boggart in store, he was saving it for some older students.
Harry led the class out of the classroom and to the entrance hall.
"By the way," said Harry, "I'm holding a running competition. I will award a small draft of liquid luck potion to anyone who manages to knock me to the ground. This is to help you hone your skills and learn to be unexpected. I'll tell the other classes, but I figured I should give you a head start. If you happen to succeed with the aid of accomplices, you can split the winnings. The potion, when drunk, will be enough to give you one perfect day. There are some rules about when you're allowed to take it, but don't worry about that now." The first years were chattering excitedly. Harry smiled.
He still had an obscenely large bottle of Felix potion from when he traveled back in time, and he thought that a contest would be a good way to get rid of it.
They descended the front steps of the castle and made their way to the largest part of the lawn.
"Circle up!" called Harry. "Ok, now, one at a time I'd like each of you to show me the sparks you've been working on for your signals for aid. I'll award five points to whoever can make their sparks stick the highest, five for whoever can keep them there the longest, and five to the loudest noise. Who would like to go first?"
Andromeda Black raised her hand.
"Ms. Black? Ok. Have a go, then."
Andromeda leaned back and held her wand behind her head like she was going to throw it into the air. She made a face of concentration, and then arced her wand over her head like a tennis server. A stream of red sparks erupted from her wand at the zenith of her arc with a bang. They continued floating up and then they stuck in the air at an impressive height.
The class clapped. "Well done, Ms. Black, well done. Who would like to follow that act?"
A Gryffindor girl who's name was Melinda Brown stepped forward.
"I will, sir."
"When you're ready, Ms. Brown," said Harry.
Melinda took a different tact than Andromeda had. She began frantically creating sparks in front of her, until there was a rather dense cloud at eye level. Then she pointed her wand at the cloud and shouted "Wingardium Leviosa!"The cloud drifted vaguely upward. Then, with equally frantic movement, she pointed the wand at her own neck and said "Sonorus!" Her high pitched, wavering eleven year old voice had magnified, and she yelled "HELP!"as loud as she could.
The bundle of sparks floated to rest about ten yards in the air and began to float downward. "HAAALP!" she repeated, booming across the grounds and echoing off the stone walls of the castle.
"Thank you, Lav—er, Ms. Brown. That's enough."
"OK! OH NO! MAKE IT STOP," she blasted.
"The counter charm is 'Quietus!'" said Harry, waving his wand quieting Melinda. "Now, that was interesting. Would you please explain to the rest of the class what you did?"
"Well," said Melinda, her normal volume, "I made the sparks and then used the levitation spell that we used in charms so that I could control them. Then I used the voice magnification spell that you used in your duel with Professor Dumbledore to make myself loud. I thought I could make it clearer that I was in trouble than if I used a bang."
"That was very creative—and I'm impressed that you managed a sonorous in your second week at school. Well done. But can anyone tell me some flaws in Melinda's plan?"
Umbridge raised her hand.
"Yes, Ms. Umbridge?"
"Well, it was a very foolish plan indeed because while she was wasting her time conjuring a cloud of sparks and doing all kinds of useless charms, if her attacker were in any way competent, she would have been killed."
"Hmm," frowned Harry. "I am going to give you one chance to rephrase that. Don't expect so much in the future."
"Well, if you didn't understand, I meant that only a moron would think they had enough time to—"
"That's quite enough, Ms. Umbridge. Ten points from Slytherin. Please apologize to Ms. Brown and learn to be kinder to your classmates."
Delores Jane Umbridge hesitated. Begrudgingly, she muttered, "Fine. Sorry," without looking at Melinda.
"Would anyone else like to answer my question nicely?"
A Slytherin boy raised his hand.
"Mr. Malcolm, yes?"
"Well, sir, it's true that if she were being attacked, she wouldn't have enough time to do all those spells," he said. "But the loud one was cool!" he added quickly, fearing Harry's wrath.
"That's right. And thank you for phrasing that nicely. I promise that each of you will make mistakes in this class. I don't want you to feel bad about these mistakes because they help you to learn and help everyone else in the class learn. To keep you comfortable enough to take risks and make mistakes, I want you all to stay positive and encouraging of each other. I will not tolerate rudeness and putdowns.
"Back to the spells, though. It's true that that was a more time consuming method. During class on Wednesday, I will be presenting you with a threat and you will have to send your signal before you become incapacitated.
"Can anyone else think of a reason why Wingardium Leviosa may not have been the most effective choice?"
Fabian and Gideon were whispering to each other. Fabian raised his hand.
"Fabian—May I call you that? I think that will be less confusing than 'Mr. Prewett.'"
"Yeah, that's fine," grinned Fabian. "How did you know which one I was? Our mother can hardly tell us apart."
"Trade secret," said Harry. In truth, he'd looked at the Marauder's map at the beginning of class and remembered which one was wearing which shirt.
When it became clear that Harry wasn't going to reveal any more, Fabian continued. "Right. Er, that spell only works while you're paying attention to it. We tried it with this big book and when it was over Trelawney's head we accidentally got distracted and it—" Gideon elbowed Fabian in the gut and he stopped talking.
Harry hid his smile. "That's correct. It wouldn't work if you were incapacitated. While her technique made a lot more sparks and sent a clearer message, the sparks wouldn't go up as high and would probably float back down. Who would like to go next? How about Ms. Umbridge."
The Prewett twins bit their lips to keep from laughing. Harry shot them a warning glance.
Umbridge waddled forward and took out her stumpy wand. With her nose in the air, she waved her wand above her head. A stream of red sparks shot out of the end with an accompanying pop. The sparks rose higher than Melinda's, but began to drop quickly. Umbridge saw them falling and waved her wand at them frantically trying to halt their downward motion, but ended up having to dance around to avoid being singed.
"Like I said," said Harry with a sigh as Umbridge tripped over her own feet and fell to the ground, "everyone messes up." Umbridge scrambled to her feet. "Does anyone have a suggestion for Ms. Umbridge about how to improve her signal?"
Melinda raised her hand. Harry hesitated. "Ms. Brown?"
"Well," said Melinda. Harry flinched in anticipation of whatever retaliation Melinda might take. "I think your sparks may have been too heavy and your noise could have been a little louder. It was more like a pop than a bang," she said, and then looked at Harry and smiled sappily. Harry refrained from rolling his eyes.
"Yes, I would agree, Ms. Brown. The sparks were a little too heavy to stick. For lighter sparks, try flicking your wand a little more rather than pointing it straight up. And for a louder noise, grip your wand a little tighter. I'm glad to see that you got rid of the pink sparks you were mixing with the red, though. Keep practicing. Who would like to go next?"
"May we go at the same time, sir?" asked Gideon.
"Hmm," said Harry. "I don't see why not. Might I ask why?"
"Well, sir," said Fabian enthusiastically, "We're doing the same thing, so the second one might be a wee bit…anticlimactic."
"Uh-oh," said Harry, smiling in anticipation and admiration for Fabian's use of the word "anticlimactic". "Alright, then."
The red haired twins grinned at each other and spaced themselves out about five yards. They locked eyes and started counting. "One…two…three!" They waved their wands like they were waving lassos, shouting "Help! We're being attacked!" and then thrust their wands into the air sharply, each sending out a rocket of sparks with a deafening bang. Above each of them floated a stationary firework display, but the spell didn't stop there. Each rocketing ball of fire split into pieces and as they split they broadcasted the twins' voices calling "Help! We're being attacked!"over and over.
The class and Harry burst into applause as the balls of jetting fire increased in number and raced around the campus, each ball continuing to belt "Help! We're being attacked!" The group all watched, admiring the twins' magic as it continued to multiply and spread, some balls even bouncing off the castle walls.
"Well done, you two! I would love to hear how you learned—"
At that moment, Harry's wand flew out of his hand and Harry was blasted into the air. "What—the—bloody—argh!" cursed Harry as he started falling. He reached out for his magic to slow his descent, but his wand was gone. It was gone, along with his aura. It was too far away or hidden. Who could be attacking him? Riddle, he thought.
He crashed into the grass with a groan. His glasses were broken. He squinted. Through the spider web of cracks he could make out a figure on a broom rapidly swooping towards him, dismounting, and then an Albus Dumbledore shaped man was directly in front of Harry with his wand jabbed threateningly over his heart. "Go back to the castle! Now!" Harry ordered the students dangerously.
"Tom," snarled Harry. He was enraged. He considered the possibility of another attack from Tom Riddle, but for him to show up with the polyjuiced appearance of Dumbledore was more than Harry could take lying down (so to speak). Harry was disgusted that Voldemort was befouling Albus's image. Clearly all he'd wanted was to sneak onto campus with a face everyone trusted—well, he'd blasted the wrong man.
Before the man pinning Harry to the ground could do anything, Harry punched him squarely in the nose, and knocked his wand out of his hand. Harry's attacker groaned, and Harry took the opportunity to flip them both over so that Harry was on top, pinning the man who looked like Albus to the ground. He reached out with his body aura to impede the other man's struggling movement.
Harry pulled his fist back for another punch and held it there. "Tom, you really don't know who you're messing with—and the Dumbledore disguise was really stomping on the dragon's eggs," said Harry dangerously. "I'm Dumbledore's man through and through and you are disgusting." Harry spat, and tightened his body aura's hold on that of the man beneath him. "You have only succeeded in royally pissing me off. Did you think this would work? Did you think I wouldn't recognize—that I—recognize—aura—" Harry stopped talking and his mouth fell open in horror. He hadn't even considered the possibility that it really was Albus; Albus trusted him implicitly. How could he—why would he—
Harry glanced around quickly and his fears were confirmed when he saw the elder wand lying on the ground a few paces away. He retracted his aura from the distinctly Dumbledoreish aura he'd been attacking and scrambled backward.
"Wand," croaked Albus, wincing through the stream of blood running thickly from his nose. His wand snapped to his hand.
"Ohhh Merlin," said Harry, scrambling backward, green eyes wide. "This is going to take some explaining."
Albus got to his feet and opened his mouth as if to speak, but winced and closed it again. He waved his wand and Harry shrunk back, but the spell only ceased the ambient chorus of bangs and "Help! We're being attacked!" Albus turned on his heel and strode back towards the castle.
The doors burst open and Minerva rushed out. "Albus! Albus! Crockett's students just found me! They said they were learning to signal for help and then they were—they—they were—" Minerva caught sight of Albus, his nose re-broken and his face covered in blood, and she stopped talking. She glanced behind him at Harry, who was propped on his elbows on the ground, wandless and grimacing. Her eyes widened.
"Not a word, Minerva," Albus said.
"Did you—"
"Not a word—"
"—think he—"
"Don't you—"
"—was attacking them? Harry beat you up?" A look of pure glee dawned on her face for a moment before Albus wiped it off completely with a very effective Bat Bogy hex. He strode past her into the castle and the door slammed behind him.
As soon as he was gone, Minerva pulled out her wand and vanished the bats. She strode over to Harry.
"You aren't going to attack me, right?" she grinned. Harry picked up the broom Albus had forgotten on the ground in his haste.
"Do tell me what happened," she said. Harry explained it to her as they walked back up to the castle, only slightly less embarrassed that Albus.
"I can't believe he thought you were attacking the students. He's going to be beating himself up about this for weeks—of course, you helped beat him up too," she said, and laughed at her own joke. "Now, really, we have to go find your students before they start to think one or both of you loony old men is some sort of mad murder."
"I…I'm not old," was all Harry could manage.