Thank you to everyone who reviewed!
Christ. Over 400 reviews after only ten chapters and an introduction. That's kind of amazing. Really amazing actually. It's incredible how much you guys are liking this story thus far.
So I wanted to say thank you. Thank you all very very much.
Anyways, this chapter feels like there's a lot happening, but not a lot happening. Don't really know how to explain it. All the same, hope you like it.
nanananananananananananananananananananananananana nananananananananananananana
The merpeople, grossly under-informed as they were, were incredibly grateful to him for sharing what he knew; which, as it turns out, came more from his own experiences with Voldemort than anything else. What little he was able to tell them caused great worry, as Harry could only tell them that he didn't know, when asked if Voldemort had any plans regarding the merpeople. He was able to tell them at least, that the Dark Lord likely intended to take control of Hogwarts, and much the rest of the magical world, and that he wasn't sure if that included magical beings aside from witches and wizards.
By the time he left, there was much more talk regarding moving back to the sea, at least for a time, and Harry felt guilty that his first visit with them after so long away would be spent causing them nothing but worry. He returned to the castle later that night unsettled, though with a belly full of fish, and found a note waiting from him from Severus, stating that he was to report to his office on Thursday after dinner.
It seemed that their lessons would be continuing, and Harry found himself both excited and worried about it. He had exchanged letters with the man sparingly over the summer, and while it seemed that their impromptu friendship had not suffered overly much, the potion master had made it very clear that he was displeased with Harry having reacted the way he had regarding his trip to the Ministry, and had told him that they would be having words the next time they spoke in person.
He deserved it, of course, but there was no one quite as capable of ripping a person's self esteem into tiny pieces, then setting them on fire and pissing on the ashes, in the way that Severus could. So, with worry regarding the coming meeting, and the next day of school, Harry fell into fitful sleep.
nanananananananananananananananananananananananana nananananananananananananana
His first class on Monday was double potions with the Slytherins, and he was surprised how he almost looked forward to it, when he would have (and had) groaned in despair just a couple years previously. Still, he shifted in with the rest of the class, and found himself in a seat between Blaise and Draco, with Neville on Blaise's other side. He wasn't surprised to find that they were the only Gryffindors on the snake's side of the room, though he was surprised at Neville.
Then again, seeing him smile and mutter something to Blaise, and recall that they had been in the same group in Ancient Studies the previous year, he supposed it might not be so odd after all. He smiled at Draco, but kept silent, none of them yet knowing what kind of teacher Professor Slughorn was, and the blonde gave a weak smile in return. He frowned, noticing then the dark circles beneath Draco's eyes, and worry gnawed at him. He had come to know Draco as being a person who greatly valued appearances; being even more vain than some of the girls he knew, and seeing him clearly not in his best state and in a public setting was like seeing someone come up to you with an ax and blood all over their clothes. It raised far too many red-flags, and Harry eyed him pointedly, but the Slytherin had already looked away; not paying Harry any mind at all and clearly distracted by his thoughts.
Harry might have said something, but the teacher came in then, and class began.
nanananananananananananananananananananananananana nananananananananananananana
Harry was later surprised at just how much he had enjoyed potions class. He had been paired with Draco for the remainder of the year, Neville with Blaise, and Slughorn had been inordinately pleased with their show of 'inter-house unity'. Where Severus was overbearing and angry, spiteful and dark, Slughorn was bustling with energy and joy. He was fair, and explained very clearly why each step was important rather than simply expecting them to understand how dangerous potion making could be, the way that Severus did.
It was not lost on Harry that Severus was a better potion-maker, and considered a genius in his field, but the man simply didn't have the temperament for dealing with children and teenagers on a daily basis. He would do much better in a large lab where he was free to brew, experiment, and create to his hearts desire, rather than in a school where his genius was stifled, and Harry wondered if it was resentment for his position that made him so hateful. That, however, then begged the question of why he bothered to stay at Hogwarts when he would be entirely happier elsewhere, and he found himself at a loss. Why did the man stay at the school if he clearly didn't enjoy his job?
He suspected it likely had something to do with Dumbledore's meddling, and, in his consideration and thought on this subject, he completely forgot to talk to Draco after class ended. By the time he became aware of his distraction, the blonde was already long gone on his way to his next class. With a sigh, he promised himself to address it later, and headed off to his Advanced Ancient Studies class. He would have Advanced Ancient Runes afterwards, and the two together more than made up for anything else.
Where the previous year's class had held only eighteen members total (himself included) this class was even more pitiful. There looked to be only twelve of them altogether, Blaise, Neville, Luna, and Daniel among the other students. Only one of the other Slytherins from the previous year remained aside from Blaise, and he now recognized her as being Daphne Greengrass. Only seven of last year's ten Ravenclaws had continued on, one being Luna, and among the others he recognized Terry Boot. He wondered why so few had continued on. The class wasn't terribly difficult, and it was so incredibly fascinating, it was still hard for him to believe that there weren't more students jumping at the chance to attend.
He and the others stood, knowing that Professor Morris would assign seating right away, as he had told them the previous year, and sure enough, as soon as the man came in he started pointing at tables at hollering out names.
"Potter, Zabini, and Reems! Over here!" The table was at the front, and Harry settled in with a grin at Blaise, and a small smile for the Ravenclaw he didn't recognize. He thought though, that she might be a seventh year. She shook his hand while the others were still getting seated.
"Sarah Reems."
"Harry Potter." She smiled politely and confidently, and he was bemused when, as soon as the professor was back at the front of the room and speaking, all of her attention was intensely focused on him. He could make a guess or two as to why she was in Ravenclaw.
They jumped right into the material this year, rather than the previous, when he had given them the first class to get to know each other and chat. They would be working almost exclusively on various forms of ritual and their origins over the next couple months, and, upon learning that a good number of them required rune work, Harry found himself grinning brightly and looking forward to it.
nanananananananananananananananananananananananana nananananananananananananana
Advanced Ancient Runes was also a significantly smaller class than the year before, though not so much as Advanced Ancient Studies. Professor Marcel was as bubbly as ever, and the class passed by in a manner reminiscent of the previous year. He was surprised to note that Hermione was among those who had chosen not to continue the class. It came as easily to him as it had until now, despite the fact that it should have been far more difficult than last year's class, and he discovered, not for the first time, that the Professor's attitude was infectious.
After runes was double Herbology, and Harry counted himself lucky to find himself paired off with Neville. He himself was good at caring for non-magical plants, due in no small part to his years of tending Aunt Petunia's garden, but his thumb wasn't nearly so green when tending to things that could bite you or scream, or wiggle. A lot of other students shared his trouble, and it was thus considered a boon to find yourself paired with Neville, who seemed to have dirt running through his very veins. He found himself smiling smugly at some of the envious looks he was currently receiving as a result.
"So you made it into the N.E.W.T. class then?" Neville grinned at him. While N.E.W.T.s wouldn't be until next year, any participation in a class after taking the O.W.L. was just considered a N.E.W.T. class. Harry nodded.
"Yea. Somehow I managed an E." Almost as in response, the little tentacle-like plant they were currently trying to harvest seeds from slapped his hand and he pulled it away with a curse. Neville laughed at him, and he glared, though there was no real heat to it. "I assume you got an O?"
"Yea. Got an O in here, Defense, and Astronomy. Just barely got an A in Potions though." Harry chuckled.
"I suppose that's expected?" Neville grimaced.
"I do fine prep work, Examiner even said it was top notch. I think that's the only reason I didn't get a T after my cauldron exploded. Managed an E in everything else though. How 'bout you? What did you get?"
"Um, O's in Defence, Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, and Charms. E's in Ancient Studies, Transfig, Potions, and Arithmancy, somehow. I managed an A for Astronomy, but I got a P in History, so I don't have to take that anymore. How'd you manage an E in that with Binns teaching?" Neville flushed.
"My Uncle likes history stuff, so he always teaches me over the summers. He makes it interesting, I guess." Harry snorted.
"Don't really see how it could be after Binns. I've taken 'history' to mean 'naptime' ever since first year." Neville snickered.
"You and everyone else, mate." They shared a laugh at that, and quieted down when Professor Sprout sent a sharp look in their direction. The rest of the class passed in careful work, and nice conversation, and Harry was once again reminded at just how much the other teen had changed since first year.
nanananananananananananananananananananananananana nananananananananananananana
Harry had Defense against the Dark Arts on Tuesday, and Severus proved to be much the same there as he had in potions class, if a little less foul-tempered than was usual. Their first lesson was mainly review, and they were given a layout of what they would be learning this year. Harry noticed that Hermione, and some of the more studious Slytherins, appeared to be very pleased about that. The man made it clear that he would expect them all to behave maturely this year, saying:
"You are all old enough now that I should not be forced to hold your hand through everything that you do like miserable children. If any of you find you cannot maintain proper classroom decorum, I will remove you, and you will never again step foot into this classroom, whether I am the professor for it next year or not. Do I make myself clear?"
Harry had found himself holding back laughter at the time, though he still wasn't sure what was so funny. Afterwards, the man had asked him to stay behind, and he waited till all the other students were gone before coming up to the man's desk.
"You received my note regarding your lessons?"
"Yes sir."
"I take it you have kept up on your occlusion throughout the summer?
"Yes. It's getting easier. Although..."
"Yes, Harry?" That calmed him. Having Severus call him by his first name meant more than was said, because it was a way that the potion master had of telling him he wasn't angry or upset with him. He had been worried about that, since all of the man's letters during the summer had been addressed 'Mr. Potter'.
"I'm still having difficulty controlling my temper. It seems almost worse than before now."
"Then we will address that on Thursday. If you are doing well enough in the shielding aspects of Occlumency, we can afford to focus on emotional control." Harry nodded. "Aside from that, however, were you planning on continuing the group this year?" He nearly asked 'what group?' but managed to contain himself in time. If there was anything Severus disliked with particular intensity, it was questions he thought were foolish.
"I'm not sure. I would need to contact all the members, and see if anyone wanted to continue, and if they do, then we need to coordinate everyone's schedules." Severus nodded, looking calm, though blank, which, when in a good mood appeared to be his default expression.
"Let me know once you have contacted them. I would like to continue overseeing things. There may not have been any problems last year that you were unable to solve yourself, but that could easily change this year, since you will likely be working on more advanced spells."
"Alright."
"Very well, now then," Harry perked up, at attention. "How are you?" He blinked, and opened his mouth to say 'fine' but stopped.
"I... I'm doing alright. The summer was hard, but it's not as bad now as it was at first. I miss him though." Severus eyed his jacket with a nod. Harry had been wearing it since school began rather than a cloak, and he was rather surprised that no one had said anything to him regarding it, considering that it didn't exactly adhere to the dress code.
"I understand. If you should need me, for any reason, you know my office is open to you." Harry smiled sadly, and agreed. "Very well. You may go, here." The man handed him a note for his next class and waved him away. "Look after yourself Harry."
"You too Severus."
nanananananananananananananananananananananananana nananananananananananananana
His first Spellcrafting class came as a double period at the end of Wednesday. It was even smaller than the Advanced Ancient Studies class, and there was no one here who wasn't in the other as well. Neville and Daniel were both absent, and aside from him there were only five other students, all of whom he knew.
Blaise, Daphne, Luna, Terry, and the Reems girl. There was no one else, and he realized once the bell had gone off that he was watching the door, expecting more to come. Professor Morris watched them all in silence, looking far more serious than he usually did, and he gestured them all to a single round table in the center of the room, and surprisingly, sat down with them rather than remain at the front, near his desk.
"Spellcrafting," He began, his usual excitable tone replaced by a more somber one. "is an incredible, and dangerous art. To make a spell yourself, to form and guide magic into conforming to your will, with your own words, and motions, can be both wondrous and terrible. There are spells to heal broken bodies, and spells to cause them, and they were all created by someone. Magic is guided, more than all else, by your intent. You could cast a spell meant to heal, but if you did so with intent to harm, then the effects could be disastrous. Spellcraft is not to be taken lightly, under any circumstances, and while I will teach you how to do it, you are never to attempt the art outside this room unless I deem you ready to do so. If you do, you will be expelled." Harry swallowed. "In this, there are no second chances. Do I make myself clear?" Everyone gave murmurs of agreement, all of them taking his words seriously.
"Now then, as there are so few of us, we will all be working together, or alone, depending on the subject. Before you may begin to make spells, you must learn the theory and method with which it is done. We will learn as a group, and until everyone understands the material, we will not move on. Let us begin, now, by talking about wands; how they are made, how they function, and why the words and motions are needed.
A wand is a conduit, created to conduct magic in the same manner that muggles use metal or water to conduct electricity. Each wand is unique, but all are made of magically conductive materials. Wood, in its' various forms, is an excellent magical conductor, and while you might find it incredibly difficult to do so, it would be entirely possible to use a living tree as a conduit in a similar manner to your wand. Parts from magical animals work as a focus. Where the wood conducts, the core focuses and refines. Much like how a blade is made. The wood is like the hammer which forms the spell, while the core is the stone that sharpens it. Your motions, words, and intent tell the magic what to do once it's conducted and focused, and turn the base magic into a proper spell.
The words have power themselves. Older languages, while not inherently magical, were often influenced by magic in some way, which is why we use them for our casting. Here in Europe, Latin and, to a lesser degree, Greek and Gaelic, are the preferred languages for spells. You will rarely find a spell born from the English language, as it is a relatively newer speech, and is made up of pieces from many other languages and thus a 'watered-down' version of them. If you do ever find an English spell, then you are likely to find that casting the same thing while using the Latin word for it, rather than the English, will make it much stronger. Most of the few English spells we have are healing in nature, since there are often times where a healer needs to produce a weak, but specific action in order to help their patient.
Then comes the wand motions. Each motion of your wand, is a small simplified version of a rune, and stringing them together is like carving those runes into the air, and pushing the magic into them, to give them life. You may find yourself able to complete a spell without the motions, but it will be much harder to do so, and the spell will never be as strong. There are other things you can use to cast spells, rather than a wand, some of which are even more effective, but all still have the same basic principal. Conduct, focus, guide, and create. With a wand, the wood conducts, the core focuses, the intent guides, and the words and motions create; and this is what you will learn how to do here, to create your own spells."
nanananananananananananananananananananananananana nananananananananananananana
Finally, Thursday night came around, and Harry wondered, standing outside Severus' office, if it was just in his head that the week seemed to be passing by so slowly. His feelings on the matter were no doubt passed along by how little free time he currently had available until the weekend; the result of which being that he had yet to be able to visit the Keeper's Library. He wanted to start packing up the books as soon as possible, especially since it would give him the opportunity to make a list of them complete with Authors and subject. It would be a tiring task, but would make any future research much easier, since once they were set up in their new home, all he would have to do is search the list and summon the books to him rather than hunt through them one by one. The sound of a clearing throat had him looking up to realise that Severus had opened the door and was looking down at him. Was the man really so tall, or was he even smaller than he had thought? It was odd, he couldn't recall knocking.
"Lost in thought?"
"Something like that." He ducked under the man's arm and into the office, preparing himself mentally for what was to come. "How's your week been so far?"
"Better than usual. It's nice not to have to worry about brats blowing up my classroom. Now I just need to make sure they don't blow each other up. I'm not keen on the thought of having to clean up the mess." He made a disgusted face and Harry laughed.
"No, I don't suppose that would be fun at all."
"Indeed." The man eyed him, amusement gone, and Harry sobered up. "I... For the first time in many years, I find myself at a loss as to what to do." Harry blinked at him, bewildered.
"What do you mean?" The man's expression darkened, looking closer to how he did in the classroom.
"I am, extremely, cross with you, and yet, I am also very relieved. You are lucky that I did not see you before you returned home for the summer, as I may well have cursed you." Harry looked down, familiar shame and guilt crawling up his spine with sharp needle-claws.
"I'm sorry." Severus sighed.
"You should be. You should have come to me, first." Harry glanced up, and then looked back at his feet. "I am beginning to understand you well enough to know that, short of rendering you unconscious, I would not have been able to keep you from going, but if you had come to me, I could have first contacted Grimmauld to ensure that Black was truly absent, and if he had been, I could have gone with you." At this, the teen's eyes snapped up to meet the black ones of the other.
"You... What?" He breathed.
"I could have come with you." He repeated, more slowly. "Unlike you, I have much experience in dueling and fighting, and I am far more aware of Death Eater tactics than yourself. If you had come to me first, we could have devised a proper plan that did not include rushing in like a fool." His voice rose at the end and he glared outright at the teen.
"I... I'm sorry. I'm just so... I'm used to-" He swallowed, finding it difficult to speak.
"Doing things on your own?" Harry nodded, and the man sighed; a deep, world-weary sigh. "I know. As am I. But there are times when it is best to ask for help, and you need to learn the difference between what you can handle on your own and what you can't, or the next time, you will not simply be scarred, you will be dead." Harry sat down, his legs feeling weak, and started when he felt a hand in his hair. Severus rubbed his head, and looked down at him tiredly. "I will teach you to understand the difference, and I expect you to come to me next time. All the same..." He paused. "I am... glad... that you are safe, and alive."
"Thank you." The man nodded, and then cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable.
"Now then, we have a lesson to get to."
"Yes sir." The potion master settled down in his own chair and pulled out his wand, pointing it at Harry.
"Are you ready?" Harry steeled himself, and nodded. "Very well. Legimins."
He was surprised by how easily he could feel the intrusion this time. In the beginning, it had been an intangible thing, and he had been hard-pressed to try and figure out how to fight it, but now, it was like a solid, physical attack, and he shoved at it, pushing it out of his mind. He nearly managed it, and then it pushed harder, Severus not holding back so much and attacking his mind relentlessly. He hissed and shoved at it. When it was clear he was going to fail, he pulled up walls to try and block it, and retreated behind them.
It hit them, over and over like a battering ram slamming against castle doors. He held the walls up, but they were crumbling, slowly and surely, and he knew they would fall. He swallowed, knowing he couldn't stop Severus when the man was giving his all, and wracked his brain for something he could do. An idea came to him, born from the pages of his Occlumency book, and he prepared.
When the walls came down, Severus found himself thrust into a memory of pain; Harry's memory of being under crucio the night of the Triwizard Tournament. He retreated from the teen's mind quickly with a curse. Harry gasped, suddenly back in the real world, and slumped in his chair, shaking; his head pounding violently. Severus was shaking too, and rubbing his temple. The man called sharply for his usual house elf, and a moment later the creature disappeared and reappeared with two potion vials. Severus handed one to Harry, who drank it trustingly and without question; the pain in his head easing immediately, like putting a towel drenched in cool water on a burn. After a minute, the pain had gone down to little more than a dull ache.
"Well done." Severus' voice was rough, and he summoned a glass of water to drink and ease it. Harry felt a rush of pride curl inside of him. "You fought me well, and you knew when to retreat. Your walls are stable, though not as strongly formed as they need to be, and you chose a good tactic when you realized I would break through. We'll need to work on your walls, and next time, I would suggest lining up several memories to use. Try inconsequential ones to start with, like sitting outside and watching the grass, or skygazing, and mix them in with memories like the one you used; memories of pain." Harry nodded.
"Why those kinds of memories?"
"Several inconsequential memories before a one of pain will make any attacker on your mind who's not prepared for it frustrated, which will make them sloppy. When the pattern is suddenly interrupted by a painful one, it will be a shock to the system, and will affect them more strongly than it would if the first memory they touch upon is painful. The more pointless memories before the painful one, the better, as it will make your attacker complacent, whereas they will be expecting an attack first thing after having breached your walls. Ideally, no mental foe should ever make it that far, but having one's mind invaded is never ideal, and you'll want to be prepared for the worst. Once your walls are stronger, we can go over other tactics and defenses, but for now, we start small."
"Alright. Are we going to try again?"
"No. I want you to begin working on your walls now, and you will improve them throughout the week. What did you think of when you began forming them?"
"Castle walls, like Hogwarts." Severus nodded.
"I thought as much. You should think of something stronger. Meditate, and try to come up with something. Over the next week I want you to think of ways to improve your walls, and put them into practice. At our next lesson, you will not throw me out or stop me, and I will look for weaknesses in your design. Then you will improve them again."
"Until they're perfect?"
"There is no such thing as perfect. No matter how strong you make them, an attack of enough magnitude will bring them down. But that sort of attack will take a great deal out of any opponent, which is why, when your walls are complete, we'll do more. If you cannot push them out, they will face your walls, and if they manage to get past them, they will face other defenses."
"But what if they get past those too?"
"As unlikely as it is, I will prepare you for that, as well. What I have in mind will take time, but I think we can have you properly prepared by the end of the year."
"Okay."
"Now then, I'll get Timpy to bring us some food, and then you can go back to your dorm and rest."
nanananananananananananananananananananananananana nananananananananananananana
The weekend came without too much trouble, and Harry sighed in relief at that, happy that the first week was finally over. The first two weeks of school were always the hardest, and after that it was easier. Now that the first week was over, he felt much better, if tired. It was night now, on Saturday, and he had long since finished the week's homework. He began gathering his things up, preparing to move to the other tower, and tried to be as quiet as he could, shushing Oddball when the little thing squeaked, and setting the sleeping Metis around his neck so he didn't drop her.
"Harry?" He froze, cursing internally, and turned around to find Neville climbing out of bed and rubbing his eyes. The teen yawned and looked at Harry. "Where are you goin'?" Harry fidgeted.
"I... I'm gonna be sleeping somewhere else now." Neville stared at him, and then whispered.
"Is this that place behind the snake?" Harry swallowed, and nodded hesitantly. "Alright. You want me to cover for you? Me and Seamus could do it together, so no one finds out, if you want."
"Would you?"
"Sure." Neville grinned. "What are friends for?" Harry smiled.
"Thanks, Neville."
"No problem."
There was no more trouble after that, and Neville even helped him with his things, and shrunk his trunk for him, once Harry realized that, while he knew the spell for unshrinking things, he didn't actually know the one for shrinking them. He waved goodbye to the other teen as he slipped out, Oddball on his head, and Neville waved back sleepily while climbing back into his own bed. Harry slipped through the castle, narrowly avoiding Mrs. Norris, and made it up to the seventh floor without trouble.
He felt better once he had made it inside the Keeper's tower, the place serving to remind him of Fred and George's flat and making him feel at home. It was the only place in the castle that felt that way to him anymore. The rest of the castle felt tainted somehow. It was like, in first year, it had been filled with bright colors, and now they were all dull and greying. It wasn't the same, and it never would be. He didn't regret his plans for leaving.
He settled his things into the bedroom, and put Metis', mostly unused, cage on the nightstand alongside his false glasses, and the glamour band. He smiled once it was off, and gathered up the little shrunken trunks that were hidden away inside his own, once he had unshrunken it. Then he was off through the tunnels, walking leisurely. He swam for a bit in the water, the trunks safely ensconced in a waterproof pocket in his jeans. He touched some of the plants, never having looked them up, and then went to the library.
He half-expected to find Frode already there, but the shelves were all together like normal, and there was no sign of the strange portrait. He pulled out the trunks and unshrunk them, alongside a notebook. There were quills in the desk, and he turned to the shelves, and eyed the many many books.
"Well, better get started."
nanananananananananananananananananananananananana nananananananananananananana
It was almost two hours later when he left the library, having catalogued and packed away about a hundred or so books, almost filling up one of the trunks. He realized he would likely need to order a few more of those trunks. There were too many books for just four of the trunks, no matter how large they were within. He would need at least double, maybe more. He was exhausted, and left the trunks there to collapse into his bed.
The next couple of weeks passed by in a similar fashion; his classes and Occlumency holding his attention while he spent the weekends packing up the library. He ordered more of the trunks that next Monday after the first weekend, and he was nearly halfway done, keeping only the books he wanted to read in the time being out, and he had worked himself into a groove of sorts that was interrupted one morning during breakfast, when a large eagle owl came and dropped an official looking letter in front of him that nearly landed in his eggs. It had the Ministry seal on it, and he slipped out of the great hall to read it.
He opened it the hallway, once he was sure no one was around, and grinned as he read it. He made a note to visit Severus that afternoon, even though it was Wednesday. He needed to talk to him about the D.A. anyways, since he had finally heard back from the last of them yesterday. He went off to class early, wanting to get through the day as quickly as he could.
nanananananananananananananananananananananananana nananananananananananananana
Severus called him in as soon as he knocked, though the man looked surprised when he looked up and saw who it was. The bicorn stomped a foot and chuffed. Harry smiled.
"Are you busy?" The potion master set down the quill in his hand.
"Just grading papers. It can wait a moment." He motioned towards one of the chairs before his desk and Harry sat down. "You do realize our lesson is tomorrow, correct?"
"Yes..." Harry hesitated. "You said to come to you when I needed help." The man sat up straighter, looking serious.
"What is it?"
"I need to go to the Ministry on Saturday, and... I don't want Dumbledore to know." He was risking a bit, being honest like this, but he needed proof he could trust the man without the involvement of oaths or spells or the like. Severus' eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
"The headmaster is manipulative. You know that, don't you." The man faltered, the equine making an indecipherable noise. It was hard to tell the emotions of a person through an animal like a horse, or rather, a bicorn. People with dogs were much easier.
"His heart is in the right place."
"Maybe. But it seems to me that he's the sort who looks at the big picture and doesn't think much about all the individuals who get hurt along the way to making the world better." The man's animal stomped, and Harry saw something dark flash across the professor's eyes.
"I suppose, that in this, you are unfortunately correct. It is however, the responsibility of a leader to put the needs of the many above the needs of the few."
"I know that, but I'm still tired of being used."
"I see..." The man sat back in his seat, and eyed Harry. "And I assume this has something to do with why you are going to the Ministry?" The way he phrased it calmed Harry some. Him saying it like it was going to happen, rather than like Harry just wanted it to, was reassuring.
"I have a meeting with a woman from the Department of Children's services, about whether or not I'm mature enough to be allowed emancipation."
"Emancipation? To my knowledge, the only way a minor in the wizarding world can achieve such a thing is if they enter into an apprenticeship or claim a Lordship."
"I've inherited the rights to either the Potter Lordship, or the Black one. The meeting will determine whether or not my application is approved." Severus nodded.
"Would you like a character witness?" Harry's eyes widened.
"If you would be willing, it would help my case." Severus nodded.
"Very well. I needed to go to the Ministry anyways. There are a few rarer potions ingredients I have to order through them because of their volatile nature." Harry grinned. "Though, out of curiosity, which Lordship did you choose to take on?"
nanananananananananananananananananananananananana nananananananananananananana
The Department of Children's Services was one of the newest departments in the Ministry of Magic, and was located only three floors down. Where much of the rest of the underground building was old fashioned, or gaudy, the DOCS floor reminded Harry of a muggle hospital, with modern looks, light green walls, and white, tiled flooring. It made Harry nervous, and he looked around himself carefully, and at the people walking through the halls. Severus followed behind him silently, having told him before they had gone through the floo that he was leaving things up to Harry, since, 'if he was going to be an adult, he was going to handle his own business like one'. So, he swallowed down his nerves, took a deep breath, and tried to make himself appear more confident as he went up to the counter.
"Hello, I have an appointment with Mrs. Jerome."
"Turn right at the end, fifth door on the left." The young woman, about Tonks' age, behind the counter didn't even look up from her book as she pointed to Harry's right, her face obscured by the cover and her long dirty blonde hair. Harry turned away from her with slight irritation, annoyed by her rudeness.
His annoyance was thrown off quickly enough as he followed her directions, finding himself at the door to what was likely an office with the name 'Anna Jerome' engraved on it in simple, capitalized letters. He knocked, and a moment later the door was opened.
Anna Jerome was a pretty, dark skinned woman. She was even shorter than him, with huge black curls framing her face and shoulders. She smiled when she saw him, and he was happy to note that she didn't glance up at his scar with her brown eyes even once.
"Welcome, Mr. Potter, if you'd please come in." Her eyes snapped to Severus. "I'm afraid I wasn't expecting you to bring anyone. May I ask who you are?"
"Severus Snape." He had to bend down to shake her hand, the differences in their heights notable. "I am one of Mr. Potter's professors at Hogwarts. I escorted him here, and I would like to remain for the duration, if that is acceptable?" She nodded.
"Anna Jerome, and as long as you don't mind answering a few questions, then I don't mind if you stay." The man nodded, and she ushered them both in. Her office was painted blue, with black leather chairs, and a dark desk. There were no personal items, and Harry wondered if she was really so professional, or just new. They all sat down, the chairs comfy, and the woman pulled a notepad and pen out before speaking. "So, I have a few questions I have to ask you, Mr. Potter. You will need to be honest with me. Is that clear?" Her tone was kind, but no-nonsense, and he nodded. "Alright then, how often do you eat?" He blinked.
"Wha?"
"Just answer me. These questions are mandatory."
"Um, I eat three times a day, usually. Sometimes I skip breakfast." She nodded and started writing on her pad of paper.
"When do you go to sleep?"
"Uh, around eleven, mostly, every once in awhile I stay up later, but only if I can't sleep."
"What keeps you up?"
"Nightmares. I don't get them as often as I used to."
"What are they about?"
"M- My godfather mostly." His mouth snapped shut. He hadn't meant to say that!
"Where do you live during the summer?"
"With my Aunt and Uncle, and my cousin."
"How are they related to you?"
"Aunt Petunia was my mother's sister." She nodded.
"Are you happy there?"
"Mostly."
"Are they nice to you?"
"Yes."
"I understand your parents were wealthy?" He blinked, the change in subject odd to him.
"I- Um, yes."
"Are you aware of any money or property you may have inherited?"
"Yes." He almost gasped. He hadn't meant to tell her that either.
"Do you own any property that you feel would be adequate living space for you?"
"Yes."
"Do you have a plan for your future, career-wise?"
"I want to be a runemaster." She smiled.
"What made you decide on that as your career?"
"I'm good at working with runes. I like them." She nodded, making one last note on her pad of paper and pulling her muggle pen away with a scratch.
"Alright, I'm done. If you could please wait outside for a moment, so I can speak with your professor?"
"A- Alright." He felt something as he passed through the door, like a bubble popping against his skin and he stiffened. He had never felt that sort of thing before, but he knew about the effect from a book. It was, supposedly, the feeling of a compulsion charm being removed, and he understood now. Jerome's office was, apparently, laced with truth compulsion spells. He moved to lean against the wall opposite her office. He couldn't bring himself to be mad at her though. She had a job to do, after all.
He shifted from foot to foot, but after several minutes just sat down on the floor. He sighed, and began playing with the edge of Sirius' jacket. He eventually devolved to patting out a beat on his legs and humming, when the office door finally opened. He stood up, and Mrs. Jerome smiled at him.
"You can come back in now." He followed her in warily, focusing on his magic this time, and noticed as the compulsion washed over him. It was a subtle feeling, and he gave the woman a pointed look as he sat back down, which she only smiled at; her eyes knowing. She pulled out a paper from her desk and began writing on it, the wide movement of her hand suggesting a signature. Immediately, the parchment popped, duplicating itself so that there were now three copies, and the second two folded themselves into paper planes and zoomed up, shimmying through the crack at the top of the door and disappearing. She rolled up the last paper, and put it in her desk with a smile.
"Welcome to adulthood, Lord Black."
nanananananananananananananananananananananananana nananananananananananananana
So I know at first glance that Ms. Jerome's questions don't seem very important, but they are. I actually asked my girlfriend's mom (who's a retired social worker) what kind of questions she might have asked, and these were the kinds of ones that came up.
That's kind of the only comment I have to make on the chapter at the moment, so see you all next week.
Sincerely,
Mr. Hate