disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just Arabella and her story. This is both in Arabella and Harry's POV. Hope you all like this chapter!
Umbridge's Reign
Overnight, new notices had gone up all over the school announcing the new headmistress of Hogwarts signed by Cornelius Fudge himself. It did not explain how it happened, but everyone in the castle seemed to know that Dumbledore had overcome two experienced Aurors, the High Inquisitor, the Minister of Magic, and his Junior Assistant to escape. No matter where Arabella went, it was the sole topic of conversation and, in all fairness, a lot of the information was accurate, except for the fact that some second years thought that Fudge was in St. Mungo's with a pumpkin for a head. Everyone was aware that Arabella, Harry and Marietta were the only students to witness the scene, and that Marietta was in the hospital due to snitching on the D.A. She immediately became an outcast within the group and the only person that seemed to stay by her side was Cho out of pure loyalty.
But this topic of conversation did not last long. During lunch, every member of Dumbledore's Army was handed a sealed and signed scroll stating that they were to have detention in the Great Hall with Headmistress Umbridge the same night. It had only been a couple hours and Umbridge was already wielding the new power Fudge bestowed upon her. After Herbology, Ernie Macmillian told Arabella, Harry, Hermione and Ron that Umbridge was trying to get into Dumbledore's office that night and the gargoyle sealed itself against her.
"Oh, I expect she really fancied herself sitting up there in the Head's office," snarled Hermione, as they walked up the steps into the Entrance Hall. "Lording it over all the other teachers, the stupid puffed-up, power-crazed old –"
"Now, do you really want to finish that sentence, Granger?"
Malfoy slid out from behind the door with Crabbe and Goyle.
"Afraid I'm going to have to dock a few points from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff."
"You can't take points from fellow prefects, Malfoy," Ernie said quickly.
"I know prefects can't dock points from each other," said Malfoy. "But members of the Inquisitorial Squad –"
"The what?" Hermione said sharply.
"The Inquisitorial Squad, Granger," said Malfoy, pointing toward a tiny silver I upon his robes. "A select group of students who are supportive of the Ministry of Magic, hand-picked by Professor Umbridge –"
"Oh, so kiss-asses then," said Arabella with a small shrug.
"No, we're important students, Black, not that you've ever fit that category yourself. We were handpicked because Professor Umbridge sees the potential in us to do great things after Hogwarts and ever member has the power to dock points… So, Black, ten points for interrupting me… Granger, five for being rude about our headmistress… Macmillan, five for contradicting me… Five because I don't like you, Potter… Weasley, your shirt's untucked, so that's another five… Black, we're related, so another twenty points… Oh yeah, I forgot, you're a Mudblood, Granger, so ten for that…"
Ron pulled out his wand, but Hermione pushed it away and whispered, "Don't!"
"Wise move, Granger," blew Malfoy. "New Head, new times… Be good now, Potty… Weasel King…"
He strode away, flanked by his cronies, and all four of them turned towards the giant hourglasses along the wall behind them. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had been neck and neck in the lead that morning. But now, Gryffindor was towards the bottom and the only glass that seemed unchanged was Slytherin's.
"This completely undermines the prefect system," said Ernie, appalled. "It's ridiculous."
"Noticed, have you?" said a voice from the staircase.
Fred and George had just come down the marble staircase and joined them in front of the hourglasses. As they joined them, several more red rubies flew upward from the Gryffindor hourglass. They were losing more points by the minute.
"Malfoy just docked us about sixty points," Harry said furiously.
"Yeah, Montague tried to do us during break," said George.
"Tried?" asked Arabella, raising an eyebrow.
"He never managed to get all the words out," said Fred with a small smile, "due to the fact that we forced him headfirst into that Vanishing Cabinet on the first floor."
"But you'll get into terrible trouble!" said a very shocked Hermione.
"Nit until Montague reappears, and that could take weeks, I dunno where we sent him. Anyway… we've decided we don't care about getting into trouble anymore. Especially after getting that stupid detention slip."
"Have you ever cared?" asked Arabella.
"Course we have," said George, sounding a little insulted. "Never been expelled, have we?"
"We've always known where to draw the line," said Fred.
"We might have put an occasional toe over –"
" – but we've always stopped short of causing real mayhem."
"But now?" Ron asked carefully.
"Well, now –" said George.
" – what with Dumbledore gone –" said Fred.
" – we reckon a bit of mayhem –"
" – is exactly what our dear new Head deserves."
"You mustn't!" whispered Hermione. "You really mustn't! She'd love a reason to expel you!"
"You don't get it, Hermione, do you?" said Fred. "We don't care about staying anymore. We'd walk out right now if we weren't so determined to do our bit for Dumbledore first. So anyway," he checked his watch, "phase one is about to begin. I'd get in the Great Hall for lunch if I were you, that way the teachers will see you can't have had anything to do with it."
"Anything to do with what?" said Hermione anxiously.
"You'll see," said George. "Run along, now."
Fred and George turned away and disappeared in the swelling crowd towards lunch. Ernie quickly muttering something about unfinished Transfiguration and scurried away. Arabella, Hermione, and Ron moved towards the doors to the Great Hall, but Harry was stopped at the threshold by Filch. Harry merely shrugged and followed Filch back into the Entrance Hall.
"He couldn't have gotten more detention, could he?" asked Hermione nervously as they sat down. "We already have one tonight."
"I don't know," said Arabella shrugging. "It might be more detention or maybe she just wants to talk to him."
"Alone?" said Ron. "I don't like the sound of that. Who knows what that hag is doing to him? For all we know she could be poisoning him right now!"
"Erm – Arabella?"
Arabella felt a tap on her shoulders. She turned around to see Alfred Clemens standing in front of her with his fingers intertwined nervously. He was biting his lips and rocking on his heels.
"I, um, was wondering if I could, um, ask you a question?" he said in a high-pitched tone.
"Yeah, yeah, what's up?" Arabella said quickly, turning in her seat.
"Um, what's detention like?" Alfred said quietly. "You know, with her…"
Arabella's stomach did a flip. She was lost for words. She… she actually didn't know what to say to him. He was small, innocent, and in his second year. She could easily tell him a lie, that it was just lines and nothing more. Just an hour of lines and then you head back to the common room – unharmed, uncut, damage free… But, oh god, he was brave enough to come to her, looking as though he wanted the ground to swallow him up, and asked her what he was about to face. She shouldn't lie to him, despite his age and despite the sinking feeling in her chest that in a few short hours, he was going to be forced to cut his own hand open.
Just as she opened her mouth a loud booming noise erupted from the Entrance Hall. The ground shook and Alfred's knees buckled. He slammed against the Gryffindor table. Plate, goblets and silverware all rattled on the tables. The sound echoed around the room and many people looked around anxiously to see just what was going on. A Ravenclaw student closest to the entrance of the Great Hall got up to see what was going on. For a few seconds, nothing happened. The Great Hall was eerily quiet and Arabella could hear Alfred's breath quickening.
"AAAAAHHHHHH!"
Arabella, Hermione, Ron and Alfred quickly ran out of the Great Hall. Many others were in front of them as they shoved their way through the crowd. It was pure chaos in the Entrance Hall. Green and gold dragons were soaring up and down the corridor, emitting loud fiery blasts and bangs as they went by. Pink pinwheels were twirling lethally through the air like saucers and rockets of brilliant silver stars were ricocheting off the walls. Sparklers were writing terrible swearwords in midair and firecrackers were exploding every time a student got close. But instead of fizzling to a halt or burning out, they were gaining energy by the second. Umbridge and Filch were standing on the stairs, horrified and trembling. One of the pinwheels whirled towards them with a sinister wheeeee and both of them yelled with fright. They ducked the pinwheel just as they soared straight out of the window. Several of the dragons finally took advantage of the open door at the end of the corridor to escape toward the second floor.
"Hurry, Filch, hurry!" shrieked Umbridge. "They'll be all over the school unless we do something – Stupefy!"
A jet of red light hit one of the rockets, but instead of freezing, it exploded and blasted a hole through a painting of a soppy witch. Arabella laughed as Umbridge ordered Filch not to Stun them, forgetting the fact that he was a Squid. He grabbed a broom from a nearby cupboard and began swatting at the fireworks in midair. The broom caught fire within seconds. This was the sort of mayhem she expected from the twins.
For the rest of the afternoon, the fireworks continued to spread all over the castle. Though they were a complete distraction and continued to cause a ruckus, the professors did not seem to mind them. In fact, they took full advantage and even enjoyed it. Arabella knew that under different circumstances, this would not be the case, but it was certainly fun to watch McGonagall, with a bored look on her face, tell Lavender to go fetch Umbridge to take care of a soaring dragon in her classroom. On her first day as headmistress of Hogwarts, Umbridge was running around the whole castle, answering the summons of professors who could not get rid of the fireworks without her help. By the time Arabella headed back to the Gryffindor common room, she was sure steam was going to emit out of Umbridge's ears.
Fred and George were heroes of the night in the Gryffindor common room. They were taking orders from eager students until eight o'clock when they all headed down to the Great Hall for detention. There was a sudden change in the air as they all marched down together. Not even ten minutes ago, they were all cheering and toasting to Fred and George. Now… they were all somber and quiet. Members of the D.A. from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were already there. They were whispering to each other, all wondering what Umbridge was going to make them do. Arabella checked her watch. Twenty seconds… fourteen… nine… five… four… three… two –
The doors to the Great Hall opened and everyone immediately stopped talking. Umbridge stood in front of them. She was wearing a green cardigan with a black hat and not a single strand of hair out of place. She scanned the Entrance Hall, her sickly smile growing.
"Good evening, everyone," Umbridge said breathlessly. She sounded pleased and victorious. "You all will be doing some line for me tonight. On your papers you will have the phrase I wish for you all to write for me. I have provided for you parchment and a special quill of my own design. Each seat is marked with your names, so please go and find yours."
She stepped aside and allowed them to enter. Cautiously, they all walked inside the Great Hall, glancing at each other. The four long House tables were gone and replaced with singles desks in four columns and numerous rows. They all scrambled around, trying to find their names. Arabella walked down one of the columns, her eyes scanning each parchment. Her name was at the front, in between Harry and Ron. She took a seat and let out a deep breath. Umbridge walked towards the top of the hall and sat down next to a table with a teapot and two cups. She poured herself a cup and added two sugars as everyone settled in.
"You may begin," Umbridge said silky.
Arabella flipped over her parchment and stared at the words.
I must not tell lies.
She was confused. Those were not the same words she's been writing for Umbridge all these months. What was going on? Arabella glanced at Harry, who held up in parchment towards her. He was just as confused as she was.
"Something wrong, Miss Black?" asked Umbridge, setting her teacup down.
Arabella sniffed and said, "Yeah, I've got the wrong parchment. This is for Harry."
Umbridge let out a small, girlish laugh. "Oh no, Miss Black, that parchment was made especially for you. Off you go now."
Arabella clenched her jaw and picked up the quill. Just as she placed the tip of the quill on her parchment, a jolting pain searing in her hand. She pushed herself away from the table out of instinct and her chair scraped against the stone floor. A small drop of blood poured out of her hand and Arabella took a moment to catch her breath. How could this have happened? She barely touched her parchment, didn't even write a word, and she was already bleeding. Arabella looked around her wildly and saw that nearly all of them had not touched their parchment. All but one –
"Ron?" whispered Arabella.
Ron looked up at her. He was unusually pale. A number of emotions ran through his face – horror, disbelief, sadness, anger, repulsion – and she did not understand until she saw his parchment. The words made her blood drain from her body.
I must obey authority.
That woman was making them hurt each other. It was not enough taking away Dumbledore's Army or imposing her ridiculous rules on them or even actively denying Voldemort's return. No… she had to take it one step further and physically make them hurt each other. Cut each other in the hand for an hour and leave an everlasting impact that she, Headmistress Dolores Umbridge who managed to cast aside Albus Dumbledore, won.
"Is there a problem, Miss Black?"
Arabella's eyes snapped to Umbridge. She took a sip of her cup and Arabella shook her head. She gave a small, whimpering sound, but did not cry. As she moved closer toward her desk, she cursed herself for being weak. She should have said something, spoken up, but instead she whimpered like a wounded animal licking her wounds. She was pathetic.
Arabella placed her quill on the parchment and wrote: I must not tell lies. In the corner of her eyes, she saw Harry grip his wooden desk tightly. He blinked a couple times before writing again. She knew he was in pain and trying not to show it. He was being noble and kind towards her. But it wasn't helping. Just as Neville's quiet sniffles behind her weren't helping or Lavender whispering soft apologizes to Parvati.
Arabella's wound opened completely. It dug deeper and deeper. After a couple minutes, it began to sting and itch. She stared at it for a couple seconds and wondered where it all went wrong. How was she even in this position? She told the truth. She did what every adult told her to do since she was a little girl. Tell the truth and everything will be okay. Don't lie, it will never get you anywhere. Lies are terrible and wicked and the truth is the only good thing in this world. But adults were fooling themselves. They could not handle a simple truth told by simple kids that had no reason to lie. They were confused, stubborn and small-minded. Umbridge, Fudge, the Daily Prophet… But even as Arabella glanced up at Umbridge, a self-satisfied smile on her face, Arabella came to the realization that she would be nowhere else but here, circumstances be damned. She told the truth and despite all the consequences, she was damn proud of herself. Lying would have been easy. She would have saved herself a whole lot of pain and suffering, but there was a difference between doing what was right and what was easy. Dumbledore knew it and so did Cedric, Harry, and – with swelling pride – her parents.
After a long time, Umbridge got up from her chair and made her way to the back of the Hall. She inspected the back of each student's hand. Once she was satisfied with their work, she dismissed them with a wave of her hand. When she got to the front of the row, she dismissed Ron and Hermione with a smile before turning to Harry.
"Hand, Mr. Potter."
She took it and probed it with her stubby fingers.
"Yes, yes, you may leave now, Mr. Potter, and I hope the message sinks in this time," Umbridge said quietly. She then turned to Arabella and said, "Before you leave tonight, Miss Black, I would like a word."
"A word?" repeated Arabella.
"Yes, a quick word alone, Miss Black," said Umbridge. Her eyes flickered to Harry and she said, "You may leave now, Mr. Potter, unless you would like to continue with your detention."
"Go," Arabella whispered urgently. "I'll be fine."
Harry took his time leaving the Great Hall. When he finally closed the door behind him, Umbridge drew up another chair beside her small tea table and gestured for Arabella to sit.
"Well, now," said Umbridge as Arabella sat down. "Would you like something to drink, Miss Black?"
Arabella nearly did a double take. "What?"
"To drink, Miss Black," Umbridge said, her smile widening. "Tea? Coffee? Maybe even pumpkin juice perhaps?"
"I'm fine, I'm not thirsty."
"Have a drink with me, Miss Black. I insist. Choose one."
Something about Umbridge's voice told Arabella that she was not going to let this go.
"Um… coffee then."
"Milk?"
"Sure."
Umbridge squat down, lifted her white tablecloth, and did a performance of adding ingredients to the coffee. She then hurried up and place a cup in front of Arabella with a sweet smile.
'Never take anything offered from a known enemy, Black! Use your head! CONSTANT VIGILANCE!'
After years of knowing the old man, of course his voice would pop up in her head. Arabella gave Umbridge an uneasy smile that turned out to be a grimace and mumbled a small "thanks."
"Drink it up before it gets cold, Miss Black. Now… I thought we could have a little chat, especially after the distressing night we both had to endure in the headmaster's office."
Arabella said nothing. Umbridge watched her for a few seconds and said, "You're not drinking up!"
Arabella raised the cup to her lips, but did not take a sip of it. Mad-Eye's voice was still barking in her ears.
Umbridge's smile widened. She then whispered, "Good girl. Very good. Now…" She leaned forward a little. "Where is Sirius Black?"
Arabella's stomach turned over. "I've got no idea."
Umbridge's smile slipped for a second.
"Miss Black, let me remind you that it was I who almost caught the criminal in the Gryffindor fire in October. I know perfectly well that it was you and Mr. Potter that he was meeting and if I had any proof neither of you would be at large today, I promise you. I repeat… Where is Sirius Black?"
"I don't know," said Arabella, shaking her head. "You're barking up the wrong tree, professor."
They glared at each other for a moment before Umbridge said, without a smile, "Very well then… Where is Albus Dumbledore?"
"I don't know," repeated Arabella. She pretended to take another drink.
"I know Mr. Potter is very close to Dumbledore," said Umbridge, "and I know how close you and Mr. Potter are. Frankly, such a close nature between child should not be permitted, but I have allowed it so for the sake of keeping peace between myself and the students, especially the Gryffindors. With that being said, Miss Black, let us not play this silly little game. Think of yourself, of your future and career path. Do you wish to continuously follow Mr. Potter around like a loyal lap dog? He will only get you into trouble, young lady, and he will destroy your future. Think for yourself and your position. Where is Albus Dumbledore?"
Arabella's nose flared. Loyal lap dog, was she?
"I don't know," she repeated again. "I don't know where Dumbledore is and I don't know where Sirius Black is. I just don't know."
Umbridge was not pleased as she stood up.
"Very well, Black, I will take your word for it this time, but be warned: The might of the Ministry stands behind me. All channels of communication in and out of this school are being monitored. A Floo Network Regulator is keeping watch over every fire in Hogwarts – except my own, of course. My Inquisitorial Squad is opening and reading all owl post entering and leaving the castle. And Mr. Filch is observing all secret passages in and out of the castle. If I find a shred of evidence, you will be expelled, your wand snapped, and I will find a way to banish you from the wizarding community and make sure no one remembers the name 'Black' ever again. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal," said Arabella, grinding her jaw.
"Good," Umbridge said sternly. "You may leave."
Arabella threw Umbridge a nasty look before walking swiftly out the door. The only person in the Entrance Hall was Harry. He was leaning against the wall, staring at the ceiling, and when she approached him, his head snapped towards her and was by her side in seconds.
"What did she want?" he asked immediately.
He took her hand into hers as they quickly made their way back to Gryffindor Tower.
"She gave me coffee," Arabella mumbled, "then started asking me questions about where Padfoot and Dumbledore were hiding. I didn't drink the coffee."
"She did the same to me before lunch," said Harry as she squeezed his hand. "Asked me the same questions. She probably laced the drinks with Veritaserum."
"Wouldn't put it past her. The bloody old hag…"
"Oleaginous Hemispingus."
The Fat Lady swung forward and they were immediately greeted with a silver sparkler. The whole common room was lit up with various sparklers and fireworks going on. The laughter grew as they stepped over the threshold. Arabella carefully watched their faces. Hermione had terribly red eyes and she was laughing with Lavender and Parvati, their faces shiny with tears. Neville rubbed his face but when a sparkler jumped on Seamus's head, he grinned. Angelina, Katie and Alicia sat beside each other, belly laughing, and Ron watched the pinwheels fondly. Fred and George were in the corner of the common room, setting them off the fireworks and sparklers. They seemed determined to put a smile on everyone's faces.
Arabella and Harry took a seat on the couch next to Hermione and Ron as they watched pink-and-silver winged piglets soar around the Tower. Harry kissed Arabella's knuckles as Ron, Dean and Seamus made gagging noises.
Harry spent the whole of the next day dreading what Snape was going to say if he found out how much farther into the Department of Mysteries he had penetrated during his last dream. With a surge of guilt, he realized that he had not practiced Occlumency once since their last lesson. There had been too much going on since Dumbledore had left. He was sure he would not have been able to empty his mind even if he had tried. He doubted, however, whether Snape would accept that excuse…
"You're late, Potter," Snape said coldly.
Harry closed the door behind him. He had attempted a little last-minute practice during class and dinner, but it was no good with Arabella and Hermione asking him what was wrong whenever he fell silent trying to rid himself of all thought and emotion. It took him a while to realize that he was late for his lesson.
"So, have you been practicing?"
Snape was standing with his back to Harry, removing certain thoughts and placing them carefully into Dumbledore's Pensieve. He dropped the last silvery strand into the stone basin and turned to face Harry.
"Yes," said Harry.
"Well, we'll soon find out, won't we?" Snape said smoothly. "Wand out, Potter."
Harry moved into his usual position, facing Snape with the desk between them. His head was pumping fast with anxiety about how much Snape was about to extract from his mind.
"On the count of three then. One – two –"
Snape's office door banged open and Malfoy sped in.
"Professor Snape, sir – oh – sorry –"
Malfoy was looking at Snape and Harry in surprise.
"It's all right, Draco," said Snape. "Potter is here for a little Remedial Potions."
Harry had not seen Malfoy look so gleeful since Umbridge had turned up to inspect Hagrid.
"I didn't know," he said, leering at Harry, who knew his face was burning. He would have given a great deal to be able to shout the truth at Malfoy – or, even better, to hit him with a good curse.
"Well, Draco, what is it?" asked Snape.
"It's Professor Umbridge, sir – she needs your help," said Malfoy. "They've found Montague, sir. He's turned up jammed inside a toilet on the fourth floor."
"How did he get in there?" demanded Snape.
"I don't know, sir, he's a bit confused…"
"Very well, very well – Potter," said Snape, "we shall resume this lesson tomorrow evening instead."
He turned and swept from his office. Malfoy mouthed "Remedial Potions?" at Harry behind Snape's back before following him.
Seething, Harry replaced his wand inside his robes and made to leave the room. At least he had twenty-four more hours in which to practice. He knew he ought to feel grateful for the narrow escape, though it was hard that it came at the expense of Malfoy telling the whole school that he needed Remedial Potions…
He was at the office door when he saw it. A patch of shivering light dancing on the door frame. He stopped, looking at it, reminded of something… Then he remembered: It was little like the lights he had seen in his dream last night, the lights in the second room he had walked through on his journey through the Department of Mysteries. He turned around. The night was coming from the Pensieve sitting on Snape's desk. The silver-white contents were ebbing and swirling within. Snape's thoughts… things he did not want Harry to see if he broke through Snape's defenses accidently…
Harry gazed at the Pensieve, curiosity welling inside him… What was it that Snape was so keen to hide from Harry? The silvery lights shivered on the wall… Harry took two steps toward the desk, thinking hard. Could it possibly be information about the Department of Mysteries that Snape was determined to keep from him? Harry looked over his shoulder, his heart now pumping harder and faster than ever. How long would it take Snape to release Montague from the toilet? Would he come straight back to his office afterward, or accompany Montague to the hospital wing? Surely the latter… Montague was Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, Snape would want to make sure he was all right…
Harry walked the remaining few feet to the Pensieve and stood over it, gazing into its depths. He hesitated, listening, then pulled out his wand again. The office and the corridor beyond were completely silent. He gave the contents of the Pensieve a small prod with the end of his wand. The silvery stuff began to swirl very fast. He leaned forward over it and saw that it had become transparent. He was looking down into a room as though through a circular window in the ceiling. In fact… unless he was much mistaken, he was looking down upon the Great Hall…
His breath was actually fogging the surface of Snape's thoughts… His brain seemed to be in limbo… It would be insane to do the thing that he was so strongly temped to do… He was trembling… Snape could be back at any moment, but a reckless daring seized him. He took a great gulp of breath and plunged his face into the surface of Snape's thoughts. At once, the floor of the office lurched, tipping Harry headfirst into the Pensieve…
He was standing in the middle of the Great Hall. The four House tables were gone and replaced with more than a hundred smaller tables, all facing the same way. Each students' heads were bent low and they were scribbling on a roll of parchment. The only sound was the scratching of quills and the occasional rustle as somebody adjusted their parchment. It was clearly exam time. Snape was at a table right behind Harry. Harry stared at him. Snape had a stringy, pale look about him, like a plant kept in the dark. His hair was lank and greasy and was flopping onto the table, his hooked nose barely half an inch from the surface of the parchment as he scribbled. He must have been fifteen or sixteen, around Harry's age.
"Five more minutes!"
The voice made Harry jump. Turning, he saw the top of Professor Flitwick's head moving between the desks a short distance away. Professor Flitwick was walking past a boy with untidy black hair… very untidy black hair…
Harry moved so quickly that, had he been solid, he would have knocked desks flying. Instead he seemed to slide, dreamlike, across two aisles and up a third. The back of the black-haired boy's head drew nearer and nearer… He was straightening up now, putting down his quill, pulling his roll of parchment toward him so as to reread what he had written…
Harry stopped in front of the desk and gazed down at his fifteen-year-old father. Excitement exploded in the pit of his stomach. It was as though he was looking at himself but with deliberate mistakes. James's eyes were hazel, his nose was slightly longer and there was no scar on his face. But they had the same thin face, same mouth, same eyebrows… James's hair stuck up at the back exactly as Harry's did, his hands could have been Harry's, and Harry could tell that when James stood up, they would be within an inch of each other's heights.
James yawned hugely and rumpled up his hair, making it even messier. Then he turned in his seat and grinned at a boy sitting four seats behind him. With another shock of excitement, Harry saw Sirius give James the thumbs-up. Sirius was lounging in his chair at his ease, tilting it back on two legs. He was very good-looking. His dark hair fell into his eyes with a sort of casual elegance neither James's nor Harry's could ever have achieved, and a girl sitting behind him rolled her eyes. She shook her head and turned back to her exam, a small smile blooming.
Harry chest seized for a second and he immediately recognized who she was – Kassandra. It would have been an understatement to say that she and Arabella looked alike. In fact, if Arabella was standing next to him right now, he would say they were twins. It was uncanny to see the resemblance in them. The only difference he could see were their eyes, Kassandra's were brown compared to Arabella's grey. Those were completely her father's.
Two seats from Kassandra was Remus Lupin and Harry's stomach gave another pleasurable squirm. He looked rather pale and peaky and was absorbed in the exam. As he reread his answers he scratched his chin with the end of his quill, frowning slightly.
Harry looked around and spotted a small, mousy-haired boy with a pointed nose. Wormtail looked anxiously down at his paper, chewing his fingernails and glancing hopefully at his neighbour's paper.
Harry turned back to James, who was now doodling on a bit of scrap parchment. He had drawn a Snitch and was now tracing the letters L.E. What did they stand for?
"Quills down!" squeaked Flitwick. "That means you too, Stebbins! Please remain seated while I collect your parchment! Accio!"
More than a hundred rolls of parchment zoomed into the air and into Flitwick's arms, knocking him over. Several people laughed and some students got up to help him.
"Thank you… thank you," panted Professor Flitwick. "Very well, everybody, you're free to go!"
Harry looked down at his father, who had hastily crossed out the L. E. he had been embellishing, jumped to his feet, stuffed his quill and the exam question paper into his bag, which he slung over his back, and stood waiting for Sirius to join him. Harry looked around and glimpsed Snape a short way away, moving between the tables toward the doors into the entrance hall, still absorbed in his own examination paper. Round-shouldered yet angular, he walked in a twitchy manner that recalled a spider, his oily hair swinging about his face.
"Oi! Remus!" said a breathless voice behind Harry.
Harry saw Kassandra again running from the marble staircase towards them, but… somehow, it wasn't her. She was shorter and had bright blue eyes instead of brown. Her hair was shorter and pulled back into a ponytail that bounced as she ran up to Remus.
"Did Kas leave already?" she asked breathlessly. "Mum just sent her something to help with stress."
"Think she's by the lake with Evans," said Sirius, shrugging. "Want us to escort you?" he added cheekily.
"I think your girlfriend would be a little jealous if she saw us together," the girl said snidely.
"She wishes," scoffed Sirius. "But there's always room in my life for you, Arry."
Of course, Harry thought. This was Arabella's aunt – Arabella Torell. He should have made the connection sooner because when Torell smiled, it sounded remarkably like Arabella's.
"I'm sure there is, Black, just as I'm sure you're absolutely dying to ask her out. Anyway, I'll see you lot later. Must tend to sister dearest."
Arabella Torell made her way towards the Great Lake and Harry managed to keep Snape in sight while straining his ears to catch the voices of the Marauders.
"Are your cheeks turning red, Moony?" asked Sirius as they made their way down the stone steps of the castle. "Oh, I'm sure she'll be back."
"With her sister in tow just for you, Padfoot?" snipped Remus with a smile.
"What did you think of question ten?" Wormtail asked nervously. "I don't think I got all the –"
"Did you like question ten, Moony?" asked James, laughing.
"Loved it," Remus said briskly. "What was it again? Ah, yes. 'Give five signs that identify the werewolf.' Excellent question."
"Do you think you managed to get all the signs?" Sirius asked in a mock concern.
"Think I did," Remus said seriously. "One: He's sitting on my chair. Two: He's wearing my clothes. Three: His name's Remus Lupin…"
Wormtail was the only one not laughing. "I got the snout shape, the pupils of the eyes, and the tufted tail, but I couldn't think what else –"
"How thick are you, Wormtail?" James said impatiently. "You run around with a werewolf once a month –"
"Keep your voice down," implored Remus.
Harry looked anxiously behind him. Snape remained close by, buried in his examination questions. This was Snape's memory, and Harry was sure that if Snape chose to wander off in a different direction once outside in the grounds, he, Harry, would not be able to follow James any farther. To his intense relief, however, when James and his three friends strode off down the lawn toward the lake, Snape followed, still poring over the paper and apparently with no fixed idea of where he was going. By jogging a little ahead of him, Harry managed to maintain a close watch on James and the others.
"Well, I thought that paper was a piece of cake," said Sirius. "I'll be surprised if I don't get Outstanding on it at least."
"Me too," said James.
He put his hand in his pocket and took out a struggling Golden Snitch.
"Where'd you get that?"
"Nicked it," James said casually.
He started playing with the Snitch, allowing it to fly as much as a foot away and seizing it again. His reflexes were excellent. Wormtail watched him in awe. They stopped in the shade of the very same beech tree on the edge of the lake where Harry, Arabella, Ron and Hermione had spent a Sunday finishing their homework, and threw themselves down on the grass. Harry looked over his shoulder again and saw that Snape had settled himself on the grass in the dense shadows of a clump of bushes. By the lake were three girls lying on the bank with their shoes and socks off, cooling their feet in the water. They were giggling and whispering to each other, slyly looking over at the Marauders.
Sirius stared back at them, pretending to look bored. Remus pulled out a book and began reading. James was still playing with the Snitch, letting it zoom farther and farther away, almost escaping but always grabbed at the last second. Wormtail was watching him with his mouth open. Every time James made a particularly difficult catch, Wormtail gasped and applauded. After five minutes of this, Harry wondered why James didn't tell Wormtail to get a grip on himself, but James seemed to be enjoying the attention. Harry noticed his father had a habit of rumpling up his hair as though to make sure it did not get too tidy and stealing glances at the girls by the lake.
"Put that away, will you?" said Sirius finally, as James made a fine catch and Wormtail let out a cheer. "Before Wormtail wets himself from excitement."
Wormtail turned slightly pink but James grinned.
"If it bothers you," he said, stuffing the Snitch back in his pocket. Harry had the distinct impression that Sirius was the only one for whom James would have stopped showing off.
"I'm bored," said Sirius. "Wish it was full moon."
"You might," said Remus darkly from behind his book. "We've still got Transfiguration, if you're bored you could test me… Here." He held out his book.
Sirius snorted. "I don't need to look at that rubbish, I know it all."
"This'll liven you up, Padfoot," said James quietly. "Look who it is …"
Sirius's head turned. He had become very still, like a dog that has scented a rabbit. "Excellent. Snivellus."
After his lesson, Harry found Arabella in the common room working on her Transfiguration homework. Panting and filled with dread, he immediately began recounting what he saw in Snape's memory. Though Arabella wanted to hear more about her younger family, Harry had to get it off his chest. Their parents were relaxing by the Great Lake after an exam when Sirius made an offhand comment that he was bored and James sought to rectify that problem. He began jinxing and hexing Snape just because he was the closest. He hung him upside down in the air in front of everyone until Lily Evans, Harry's mum, stepped in. She was shouting at James, demanded that he put Snape down while calling him a bunch of rude words that seemed justified. James complied, only for Snape to yell that he didn't need any help from "filthy little Mudbloods" like Lily. James demanded that Snape apologized, but Lily rebutted, stating that she didn't need help from James of all people, calling him an "arrogant, bulling toerag." Snape caught Harry in the act, throwing him out of his office and yelling that he never wanted to see Harry again in his office.
Arabella tried to comfort him, saying that all fifteen-year-old were idiots. Even both of them were idiotic at times, but Harry was deeply affected by his parent's actions. James had always been a source of comfort for Harry and he always believed that his parents loved each other. This one memory of them completely shattered his perception of them.
"They had you, Harry," Arabella said softly. "They had you and they loved you. Even my mum said they loved each other. Remember her letter?"
"I know," moaned Harry. "It's just… it's just really –"
"Shocking, I know," finished Arabella. "My parents hated each other too. But they grew out of it, just like your parents. Harry, your mother said yes and married James. I thought she was ever pressed or anything of the sort. I'm positive they were madly in love with each other."
She could tell that this was not getting through to him. She sighed and added, "If it's really bothering you, talk to Sirius and Remus. I'm sure Fred and George know a way how. I wouldn't put it past them."
Harry's sour mood persisted through Easter holidays. Hermione, as per her custom, spent a large part of their holiday drawing up a study schedule and sticking to it completely. Ron was startled to hear that they had six weeks left until their exams before becoming gloomy that at the impending Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.
As the holiday passed, the weather because bright and warmer, but all of the fifth and seventh years were all trapped inside either in their common rooms or the library. Arabella was in a sour mood the whole holiday, convinced that it was all because of her impending studies, but she was proven otherwise when Ginny handed her a decorated Easter egg from Mrs. Weasley. It wasn't the exams that made her moody, it was the absence of home. As she stared at the golden swirls around the egg, she wished she was back at Grimmauld Place where they were all living under the same roof and she could pretend they were all a big family. A few more months, Arabella thought. A few more months until she can see Remus and Sirius again. Just a few more months…
Towards the end of their holidays, the fifth years had another thing to worry about: Career Advice. A batch pamphlets and leaflets appeared in various spots all over Gryffindor Tower with another notice on the board that read:
CAREER ADVICE
All fifth years will be required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House during the first week of the Summer term, in which they will be given the opportunity to discuss their future careers. Times of individual appointments are listed below.
Arabella scanned the list. Her appointment with McGonagall was just before lunch, meaning that she was going to miss Potions, something she really didn't mind one bit.
On their last day of holidays, every fifth year spent it inside the common room reading all the career information that had been left for them. Through the window, Arabella saw the sun quietly setting over the horizon. She was holding a leaflet about training security trolls when Fred and George made their way over to them.
"Heard you were in a pickle, Harry," said Fred, stretching his legs on the table. "Arabella says you need to talk to Sirius?"
"What?" Hermione said sharply, her Make A Bang At The Department Of Magical Accidents And Catastrophes pamphlet falling to the ground.
"Yeah," said Harry, "yeah, I thought I'd like –"
"Don't be ridiculous," said Hermione, looking as though she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "With Umbridge groping around in the fires and frisking all the owls?"
"Well, we think we can find a way around that," said George as Arabella smiled at him. "It's a simple matter of causing a diversion. Now, you might have noticed that we have been rather quiet on the mayhem front during the Easter holidays?"
"What was the point, we asked ourselves, of disrupting leisure time?" continued Fred. "No point at all, we answered ourselves. And of course, we'd have messed up people's studying too, which would be the very last thing we'd want to do. But its business as usual from tomorrow. And if we're going to be causing a bit of uproar, why not do it so that Harry can have his chat with Sirius?"
"Yes, but still," said Hermione, "even if you do cause a diversion, how is Harry supposed to talk to him?"
"Umbridge's office," Arabella said quietly. "The only fireplace not being watched is her own. It's the only way."
Hermione's mouth flew open. "Are – you – out – of – your – bloody – mind?"
"How else is Harry going to talk to Sirius?"
"How about he doesn't risk his life and talk to Sirius with Umbridge looking over our shoulders? Besides, how are you going to get in her office in the first place?"
"Sirius's knife," said Harry.
"Excuse me?"
"Christmas before last Sirius gave me a knife that'll open any lock. So even if she's bewitched the door so Alohomora won't work, which I bet she has –"
Hermione rounded off on Ron and demanded, "What do you think about this?"
"I dunno," said Ron, alarmed. "If Harry wants to do it, it's up to him, isn't it?"
"Spoken like a true friend and Weasley," said Fred, clapping Ron on the back. Right, then. We're thinking of doing it tomorrow, just after lessons, because it should cause maximum impact if everybody's in the corridors – Harry, we'll set it off in the east wing somewhere, draw her right away from her own office – I reckon we should be able to guarantee you, what, twenty minutes?" he added, looking at George.
"Easy," said George.
"What sort of diversion is it?" asked Ron, eyeing both of them.
"You'll see, little bro," said Fred, as he and George got up again. "At least, you will if you trot along to Gregory the Smarmy's corridor round about five o'clock tomorrow."
The whole of the next day Hermione kept whispering warnings to Harry. She did it during breakfast, History of Magic and Arabella was sure she was doing it during Potions as she made her way towards McGonagall's office. It was pointless, of course, Harry made up his mind a long time ago and he wanted to talk to Sirius.
When Arabella arrived in front of McGonagall's door, she took a couple seconds to herself to calm her nerves before knocking. When she entered the office, she was treated with a terrible sight in the corner. Umbridge was sitting with a clipboard on her knee and a smug smile on her face.
"Professor McGonagall," said Arabella, giving her a small nod. "Good day so far?"
McGonagall's neck stiffened as she said, "I suppose I can't complain, Black. Have a seat."
Arabella sat down with her back to Umbridge and did her best to ignore the sound of her quill on her clipboard.
"Well, Black," said McGonagall, "this meeting is to talk over any career ideas you might have, and to help you decide which subjects you should continue into your sixth and seventh years. Have you had any thoughts about what you would like to do after you leave Hogwarts?"
"Um, yes," said Arabella, nodding slightly. "Well, I first wanted to become an Auror for a while, then I started thinking about working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement –"
"The Auror Office is in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Black –"
"No, um, I meant I want to be Head of the Department, Professor," Arabella said quietly.
McGonagall stared at her for a moment, her lips thin, and then she said, "And what, if I may ask, prompted you to this… discovery?"
"It's an important department, is it not?" asked Arabella, gaining a little bit of confidence. "Everyone answers to them and… can I be frank with you, Professor?"
"If you must," said McGonagall, giving Umbridge a quick glance.
"The system is broken," Arabella said quickly. "Like… when Sirius Black broke out, this whole place was swarming with dementors, they were everywhere – the Quidditch pitch, Hogsmeade, by the Lake – and now, with twelve Death Eaters breaking out of Azkaban, where are the dementors? Now, I'm not saying I want a dementor to show up again during a Quidditch match, but, come on, it's just so transparent at this point and then – and then certain people get off when they make large donations to certain organizations and they abuse their power –"
Umbridge gave a cough. Arabella stopped herself for a second, realizing that she was going to say the Ministry turned a blind eye to known Death Eaters in front of a Ministry worker.
"I want to make a difference, Professor," said Arabella. "Or at least try."
Umbridge gave another cough, a little more audible this time. McGonagall closed her eyes for a moment, opened them again, and gave Arabella a strained smile.
"You'll be needing top grades for that, Black" she said, taking out a small pamphlet from under a pile on her desk. She set it on top of a folder with Arabella's name on it. "They ask for a minimum of five N.E.W.T.s, and nothing under 'Exceeds Expectations' grade. You will be required to undergo a series of character and aptitude tests during the course of your time in the department, either as an assistant to the Head or in a subdivision. It's a difficult career path, Black, and even more difficult if you wish to be Head of Department."
Umbridge coughed again and McGonagall ignored her.
"You'll need to take Defense Against the Dark Arts, of course, as well as Transfiguration. I do not accept students into my N.E.W.T. classes unless they have achieved 'Exceeds Expectations' or higher at Ordinary Wizarding Level. I would say that you average somewhere between 'Acceptable' and 'Exceeds Expectations.' You tend to get a bit lazy with your homework assignments in the middle of the term, but you do manage to bring it up by the end of term. Get in some good hard work before the exams and you should be fine, Black. Then you ought to do Charms, always useful, and Potions. I must tell you that Professor Snape absolutely refuses to take students who get anything other than 'Outstanding' on their O.W.L.s, so –"
Umbridge let out a pronounced cough and McGonagall could no longer pretend she wasn't there.
"May I offer you a cough drop, Dolores?" asked McGonagall curtly.
"Oh no, thank you very much," said Umbridge was a tiny laugh. "I just wondered whether I could make the teeniest interrupted, Minerva?"
"I daresay you'll find you can."
"I was just wondering whether Miss Black has the, let's say, disposition for a career in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?"
"Were you now?" McGonagall asked haughtily. "Well, Black, if you are serious about this ambition, I would advise you to concentrate harder on bringing your Transfiguration grade up and to not get indolent with your homework. Professor Flitwick has graded you with an 'Exceeds Expectations' for your first three years and an 'Outstanding' last year, so your Charms work has been satisfactory. As for Defense Against the Dark Arts, your marks have been generally high, Professor Lupin in particular thought that you – are you quite sure you wouldn't like a cough drop, Dolores?"
"Oh, no need, thank you, Minerva," sneered Umbridge, who had just coughed her loudest yet. "I was just concerned that you might not have Miss Black's most recent Defense Against the Dark Arts marks in front of you. I'm quite sure I slipped in a note…"
McGonagall opened Arabella's folder and pulled out a sheet of pink parchment. "What, this thing?" she said with a tone of repulsion. She glanced over it with a frown and placed it back into the folder before saying, "Yes, Black, Professor Lupin thought you showed a prominent ability for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and obviously for –'
"Did you understand my note, Minerva?" asked Umbridge.
"Of course I understood it," said McGonagall, clenching her jaw tightly.
"Well, then, I'm afraid I don't understand how you can give Miss Black false hope that she would –"
"False hope?" repeated McGonagall. "Miss Black here has received high marks in all of her Defense Against the Dark Arts tests –"
"Well, she has been receiving poor results in her classes with me –"
"I should have made my meaning clearer," said Professor McGonagall, turning to look Umbridge in the eyes. "Miss Black has achieved high marks in all Defense Against the Dark Arts tests set by a competent teacher."
Umbridge's smile vanished. She sat back in her chair, turned a sheet on her clipboard, and began scribbling very fast indeed, her eyes rolling from side to side. Professor McGonagall turned back to Arabella, her nostrils flare and her eyes burning. Arabella was sure one of them was going to start firing off hexes soon.
"Any questions, Black?"
"Er – no?"
"If you have any questions, this is your time to speak up –"
"I think you'll also find, Minerva," said Umbridge, her voice cold, "that the Ministry looks into records of those applying into departments – both family and health records."
"As far as we know, Black does not have a record in the Ministry, family or otherwise."
"Black has no chance whatsoever of becoming a Ministry employee, far less Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement –"
Umbridge stood up, her face simpering with fury that made her broad face look oddly sinister. McGonagall got to her feet as well and she towered over Umbridge easily.
"Black," said McGonagall, her voice ringing, "you will work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and I will see that you become Head of the Department before I –"
"The Ministry of Magic will never, ever employ Arabella Black!" spat Umbridge, gripping her clipboard tightly. "Nobody in their right mind will ever hire her!"
"Black," said Professor McGonagall, "you have shown great ability and qualities that are needed in a Head. I will do everything in my power to ensure you are the next Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement! This concludes our career consultation, you may leave!"
Arabella swung her bag over her shoulder and hurried out of the room. She could still hear them shouting as she made her way over to the Great Hall in time for lunch. Hermione was still nagging Harry about his plan to talk to Sirius. Arabella sat in between Neville and Ron, determined not to get in the middle of it, especially with the dark look on Harry's face. He was in such a bad mood that he nearly missed his own career appointment with McGonagall. He hurtled towards McGonagall's office as Arabella and Ron headed to another unusual Divinations class. At least she had Ron with her or else it would have been completely insufferable. Firenze kept discussing a red star in the sky that he was sure they were unable to see, but described it as a foreshadowing of war.
"We watch the skies for the great tides of evil or change that are sometimes marked there. It may take ten years to be sure of what we are seeing. In the past decade, the indications have been that Wizard-kind is living through nothing more than a brief calm between two wars. Mars, brighter of battle, shines brightly above us, suggesting that the fight must break out again soon. How soon, centaurs may attempt to divine by the burning of certain herbs and leaves, by the observation of fume and flame…"
"He's not very definite on anything, is he?" said Ron in a low voice as they made their way to their next class. "I mean, I could do with a few more details about this war we're about to have, couldn't you?"
"Unless it's all rubbish," said Arabella, shrugging.
"Ah, but it's written in the skies, Arabella, the skies! How could you dismiss the skies?"
"Oh, yes, how could I possibly do that," she chuckled as they entered their Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
They took their usual seats as Umbridge came striding into the classroom, still fuming and breathing heavily. She snapped at them to put their wands away and open their books. Nobody else spoke for the duration of their lesson. Every now and then when Arabella looked up from Defensive Magical Theory, she caught Umbridge shooting glowering looks at Harry.
When the bell rang at the end of the class, Hermione whispered, "Harry, don't do it! Please don't do it!"
He did not answer and Ron was determined not to get in the middle of it. He wasn't even looking Harry in the eye when they exited the classroom. Arabella quickly kissed Harry's cheek as the sound of a diversion went off in the distance. There were screams and yells coming from somewhere above them. People were exiting their classrooms and stopping in their tracks to look up at the ceiling fearfully.
"Harry – please!" Hermione said weakly.
Umbridge came jogging out of her classroom, her short legs were moving as fast as they could. She pulled out her wand and hurried in the opposite direction. As she did that, Harry hitched his bag securely on his shoulder and set off in a run, weaving in and out of students.
It all happened very quickly. One moment they were following the crowd and the next, they were on the fifth-floor east wing. The whole corridor had completely turned into a swamp, complete with dirty water, mud, weeds and moss. Some students had fallen over into the water and some were saved by their friends. Arabella and Ron began laughing immediately. It was extremely impressive and amusing. A lot of the students in the corridor were looking around, shocked and awe, while Umbridge looked as though she was on the brink of screaming. She turned to Filch and whispered rapidly to him. A strange and sinister smile spread across his face. Arabella and Hermione glanced at each other. Filch looked delighted as he shuffled away and they had never seen that look before.
"I don't like that," whispered Hermione. "A happy Filch is not a good sign."
"Dinner!" shouted Umbridge, her voice trembling. "Everyone to the Great Hall now!"
But as everyone began shoving and pushing their way towards the first floor, they found the culprits. Fred and George were standing in the middle of the Entrance Hall with an unmistakable look of people who were proud of what they had done. The students at the front of the cluster began cheering and clapping at the twins. Soon enough, everyone joined in, whooping and howling at the deed they had done. McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick were in the crowd, none looking very pleased with all the cheering, and Peeves were gazing down at Fred and George with a certain strange fondness. The twins took a low bow as Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad shoved their way to the front. Umbridge was fuming and twisting her wand in her hands.
"So!" she said, her voice extremely high. "So… you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"
"Pretty amusing, yes," said Fred, merely shrugging his shoulders.
Filch elbowed his way to the front, waving a piece of parchment in his hands. He almost cried with happiness as he declared in front of the whole school, "I've got the form, Headmistress! I've the got the form and I've got the whips ready! Oh, let me do it now…"
"Very good, Argus," said Umbridge, nodding in approval. She gazed back at Fred and George and said, "You two are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school."
"You know what?" said Fred. "I don't think we are. George, I think we've outgrown full-time education."
"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," said George.
"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?"
"Definitely."
Before Umbridge could even open her mouth, Fred and George raised their wands and said, "Accio Brooms!"
There was a loud crash in the distance. Arabella stood on her tiptoes to see Fred and George's broomsticks hurtling along the corridor toward their owners. Iron pegs and heavy chains were still attached to them, making loud clattering sounds as they skidded in front of their owners. They mounted their broomsticks as Umbridge stared at them with her mouth slightly ajar.
"We won't be seeing you," Fred told her.
"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," said George.
Fred then address the silent and watchful crowd. "If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley – Weasley's Wizard Wheezes! Our new premises!"
"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who sweat they're going to use out products to get rid of this old bat!"
"STOP THEM!" shrieked Umbridge.
But it was too late. As Malfoy and his goonies closed in, Fred and George kicked off from the floor, shooting up into the air with the iron peg dangling below. Fred looked across the hall at Peeves and shouted, "Give her hell from us, Peeves!"
Peeves, whom Arabella had never seen take an order from neither a student nor teacher, sprang into a salute. It was an interesting scene, watching Umbridge screech at Filch and the Inquisitorial Squad, the students and ghosts cheering and Fred and George zooming out of the front doors. Arabella expected nothing less from her favourite twins as they rode off into the sunset.
Thank you so much for reading! Originally, I didn't include Snape's Worst Memory, but wanted to add more Kassandra A. and Arabella T. in the story, especially through Harry's eyes. I hope you all like it, let me know what you think. Until next time, comrades!