The Prince-Who-Lived
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ron sulked for the rest of the evening and the entirety of Tuesday. Harry, Hermione, and Neville's success in Charms class – even if Harry took a lot of the couple's attention in order to figure out how to work it – were met with angry glares, and a deep, sullen silence. However, it was after Harry and Ron trudged, sodden and discouraged back up to the common room after a very wet and useless Quidditch practice, that things finally exploded. Neville had Hermione in his lap as they looked over their Ancient Runes work. He saw them come in and smiled as he shot a spell to dry them out. Harry smiled at the pleasant change, but Ron finally burst.
"Gee, rub it in why don't you." He snarled. "I didn't need your help, Neville, so stop tossing it about like some party favour."
Most of the common room fell silent, and Neville gave Ron a startled look before he sighed quietly. "Sorry, Ron. I felt like offering to help; you were quite damp. It can't have been comfortable."
"Well I don't need you showing off, Neville, I already know you're some stubborn displaced Ravenclaw just like your girlfriend. If you're not snogging each other senseless, you've got your nose in a book like it's your goddamn best friend, never mind me and Harry sitting aside wondering what the Hell is going on. Oh, wait," Ron snarled, "Harry still has some fucking clue because you probably do his stupid homework for him. I'm just some poor, stupid lump who's not even worth your time!"
Ron moved to stalk out, but he was doused with two water balloons before he got far. Harry could feel the wash of cold that flowed off him. Ron whirled and found his twin brothers glaring at him, gently holding onto two more balloons with vindictive smiles.
"Ronnikins, where did you check your brain?" One asked.
"Right indeed, George, his brain does seem to have taken off."
"Neglected, I'm sure." George nodded.
"So, Ronnikins, done griping?"
"Felt that since you were so offended at being dry,"
"We might as well return you to the previous state."
"Cold,"
"And wet."
"Happy yet?" The last was a bitter smile. "We don't need a Malfoy up here."
"Ravenclaws are much more welcome."
Ron glared at them and stormed upstairs. Harry looked over at them quietly. "You didn't need to make him angrier."
Fred waved him off. "He's just getting all grouchy again, and it's stupid of him."
"Still,"
"Harry, shut up." George said pleasantly. "You're being ridiculous. You can't defend him just because you've tried to be his friend. He's the one throwing you away. He'll either wise up, or he won't. It's his fault for not being able to handle being outdone. If he didn't want to be outdone, he should have stuck with Seamus and Lavender. All of us know that you and Neville are excellent students, and Hermione is fighting with Neville for the spot of smartest in the school."
"Well, him and Anthony Goldstein." Fred finished. "Just don't bother yourself about it."
Harry sighed, but nodded slowly and walked back over to where Neville and Hermione were. Hermione had left his lap and was now bent intently over her essay, Neville holding a hand gently on her back, his worried gaze watching Harry come closer. Harry finally sat down with a limp flop and gave Neville a dejected look. Neville's mouth twisted into a smile.
"Me, do your homework? Please, your grades would probably go down. I can't organize an essay to save my life."
Harry laughed. "At the least they certainly wouldn't be able to mistake your rambling for mine."
"Ron's just ridiculous. He's got some self-esteem issues, and can't manage to reconcile them with us right now. We do outdo him all the time, and it's not that we try, it just …"
"Works out that way." Harry finished dully. "I know. I just don't like that I'm practically losing all my friends."
Neville's face fell and his hand closed against Hermione's back. Harry noticed and shot him a wan smile with a weak shrug. He wouldn't argue it. He understood, but … it didn't alleviate the loneliness it brought of leaving him out of the loop. Sighing, he pulled out the book Geoffrey had gotten to them and began to read again.
IIII
Alan was concerned with how down Harry appeared to be in the week after the Hogsmeade weekend. A glance at the Hufflepuffs found them to be in fairly high spirits; while Hannah had seemed irritable for a few days, she slowly calmed down and began to shoot cautious glances at the Gryffindor table. The lingering mood that hung over Ron, however, did little to encourage her in approaching him once more. Susan did a lot of giggling. Daphne tended to glare, so when Wednesday came around, and Daphne sat down at lunch with a self-satisfied little glance at the Gryffindor table, Alan knew something was up.
"Daphne …"
"Potter's already sitting at the Gryffindor table and Bones isn't in yet." She announced.
Alan finally let himself give a small smile. "Will Bones be receiving a Slytherin gift upon her arrival?"
"Why, Prince, what makes you think that?" Daphne gave him an innocent look that Alan didn't buy for a moment.
"Your rather in depth plotting to gain Harry's favour is what. Just … let's hope you won't make him angry with you instead."
Daphne smiled thinly. "If it does, oh well." Her smile dimmed as Alan's disappeared and she momentarily quailed at the steel in his eyes. "It's nothing permanent. Just … Watch." She finished stubbornly, turning back to her meal.
Alan turned and Susan and Hannah both walked in together, chatting lowly. A loud 'splat' came – but nothing had fallen. Hannah and Susan both looked around abruptly, and then something made them look up – just in time for a bucket to dump it's contents over them both and then disappear, leaving the two girls coated in milky white slime. Alan was impressed. Daphne had orchestrated it well, but he was worried about what effect the slime might have. A few Ravenclaws had followed them in, and Kevin Entwhistle stepped forward to help clean them up. Alan knew him through Theodore, who was still passingly friends with him. He'd been suggesting a few things to Theodore as well, things Harry had also hinted at, which Alan wasn't sure he wanted to attend to quite yet.
A few other students had stepped in to try and clean the girls up, and suddenly Susan let out a shriek of rage. Alan looked up and felt his eyebrows rise even as his temper reared. The slime had come off with the spells, but it had taken both girls' hair with it. There was only faint stubble of blonde for each of them. Hannah quailed, but Susan angrily grabbed her arm and stormed to the table, clean finally, and while she was clearly angry, the loss of her hair didn't seem to have panicked her too much after it had settled in, unlike Hannah who was now crying quietly. Alan turned back to Daphne.
"That was a little low." He commented. "Although good work. What was it, potion or spell?"
"Potion." She groused. She knew what his dry tone meant; they all did. "It was low."
"It isn't so much Susan's appeal as it's Harry's own mind that keeps him from asking you out, or accepting, Daphne. I doubt this will affect him much."
"I was more aimed at affecting Susan, Alan. I'm not stupid enough to attempt to change your 'friend'" Daphne clarified.
Alan sighed. "Fine." He left it at that. He was still irritated, but it wasn't permanent. Pomfrey could easily grow their hair back quickly, and it hadn't affected anything else. It had cleaned up completely as far as he could tell. It was also, apparently, having a bit of an opposite effect. Daphne left abruptly as she watched Harry get up and walk to the Hufflepuff table in order to apparently question the two. Of course, the Weasley twins followed. Alan would have to see if he couldn't get some of that potion to them as well. Umbridge without hair … now that was a worthy goal.
After lunch was Transfiguration, and then Care of Magical Creatures, which had been moved inside. Everything went pretty much perfectly well, and finally they all gathered in the library – it had been requested by Blaise, because Ginny had wanted to study with them that day, citing something about her brother being a complete asshole. After witnessing the split during the mealtimes, Alan wasn't complaining. They settled around a table, and then paused when Ginny came over with a hesitant smile. Alan's breath caught a moment, and then he gave a gentle smile as he saw Luna standing blithely beside her. To her side as well was an apprehensive Melanie.
"Hi, um. I hope you don't mind but I brought Luna and Melanie with me. Melanie actually …" Ginny fell silent and shot Melanie a tight look. Melanie sighed.
"Nanna told me something I felt you should know, and then Ginny insisted I pass it on to you all myself." She sent a dirty look to one side of the group and Alan felt a suspicion form; she was glaring at Malcolm. "She said she saw Malfoy pull Baddock aside when they came out of Potions. She said it looked like he was squealing on someone. I remembered Ginny knew Blaise and your big group, and with my brother saying he thought Alan was right, I didn't think it'd be good to leave it unmentioned."
Alan rested his chin on his hand. "Neville told you that I'm 'right'?"
"No, I figured it out, although I've overheard him plotting with Harry about it." Melanie snorted. " Aside from that, I saw the aftermath of last year same as everybody. You're not lying, and Dumbledore doesn't condone torture. That means that, even if there is no Dark Lord, at the very least," the emphasis made it clear she didn't think there wasn't a Dark Lord at all, "the remaining Death Eaters are getting out of hand and something needs done. Not this stupid back-pedalling that the Ministry is doing. So," Melanie shot Malcolm a bright smile, "I thought you might want to know."
Malcolm was looking at her as though he wanted to curse her, but apparently he had some modicum of intelligence. That intelligence was busy watching Dillan with no small amount of fear. It was only a moment's thought before Alan agreed with him. Dillan was the scariest person to him right then; Alan felt he'd do a wonderful job convincing Malcolm that he was no longer welcome in their circle, better than he could do himself.
"Thank you, Melanie." Alan smiled warmly. "Please, feel free to join us for studying. I think Dillan and Malcolm have something to discuss."
Dillan stood, and most of the group focused on Malcolm with heavy interest. Malcolm stood with a tight expression. "Hey, guys …" He tried. "You know how Malfoy is …"
"Mhmm." Theodore offered, studying his fingernails. "That's what the group is for Baddock." Theodore spoke scornfully. "Keeping him away. You don't go off and buddy up to him, or let him have his way. Although …"
"Enough." Dillan said. "We need just a moment."
"Hey," Malcolm tried. Dillan didn't let him say anything else and hauled him through the shelves towards the exit. Alan felt satisfied. The Baker family was tied closely to the Hodges. Dillan had taken the time to learn some of the more intimate aspects of the Hodges' philosophies which meant that he was already well on his way to being part of the Hodges' realm, something Velorian described as the wizarding mafia. He'd take care of it. Melanie sat down awkwardly beside Ginny in Malcolm's old seat. Ginny, beside her, was already asking Blaise about how he'd handled the assignments she now had. Blaise finally rolled his eyes and advised her to wait for Dillan, as he was in her year. Melanie sighed, and pulled out her own work.
Alan watched her carefully, a small smile on his face. How come the younger siblings were so much more willing to openly cross the houses? Interhouse relations, he knew, intimidated Nanna, but first Ginny and now Melanie were both sitting comfortably at their table.
Alan's pondering cut short when Luna leaned over his arm, seemingly unaware of brushing her chest across his arm.
"Are you working on Ancient Runes, Alan?" She asked dreamily. She was still leaning on his arm; that warmth was going straight down. It took him a moment to wake up and fight down the encroaching blush. His hormones had not taken a break, and he coughed before he could speak.
"Yes, I am Luna. Why?" He asked curtly. Beside him, Salvador was snickering. Glaring at him helped lessen his reaction minutely, at least. Luna didn't seem aware of it at all and reached over to point out a sequence. The motion didn't help.
"That's wrong." She stated baldly. Alan looked it over analytically, mind shifting clean into work and blocking out his discomfort.
"Where?" He asked.
Luna turned her head up and he was abruptly reminded of how close they were when she closed the minute distance and put a kiss on his lips. Homework completely fled his mind and he stared blindly before half-closing his eyes to press gently back. There was a tiny teasing touch that he thought might be her tongue and then she pulled back. He stayed frozen for a moment before he could wake back up and, knowing he already looked like a fool shook his head and frowned playfully at her.
"That was dirty pool, Luna. Now then, you will answer my question."
"But the nargles …" Luna whined, giving him a wide-eyed look. Alan was grateful the chairs had no arms as he reached over and pulled her off balance and into his lap, flat on her back as he looked down at her. He held her there by the shoulders and smiled.
"No more attending the nargles until you either take back saying that was wrong, or explain why it was wrong. I spent more than half-an-hour trying to figure that one out and you will not tease me over it."
Luna pouted, and then said simply, "Up." Alan let her go, and then raised an eyebrow when she looked back at him. A wave of snickers ran through his group, and Alan ignored them all as Luna leaned against his arm again to point at the question. Alan pointedly moved his arm to rest on her waist – a far less distracting position – and listened carefully to her explaining, ignoring the general amusement in favour of paying attention to Luna.
IIII
The beginning of the next week was fairly active. The cause was fairly simple: During Defence Against the Dark Arts, Geoffrey was supervising practice of Expelliarmus in which he had Harry and Neville only shielding as well as practicing as they had finally grasped how to strengthen their spells to match their power levels. Hermione was paired with Averill Runcorn, the only other girl to manage to hold her shield. She wasn't particularly strong, but she'd had some teaching at home and was thus mildly ahead of the others.
In the middle of the practice, Geoffrey suddenly hollered, "Halt!"
All spellcasting stopped abruptly; a few spells went wide and impacted with light noise on the walls, and then everyone looked between Geoffrey and the door, which he was eyeing with distaste. Harry quickly understood: Umbridge was standing there with a small smile.
"Hem hem."
"You already have the attention of the entire class Ms. Umbridge. I thought I'd put it around that I did not wish to be disrupted this week same as I had not wished to be disrupted last week. May I ask why you have decided to grace us with your presence?" He sounded almost pleasant.
"Well, yes." She tittered girlishly, and Geoffrey's face began to look bored. "But I decided it would be most fortuitous to check in on you once more. As I can see, you have them practicing spells. May I ask why?"
"There are several spells I believe are necessary for everyone to know. The disarming spell and the shield spell are those. Each is non-violent, or as non-violent as you can get and have a low ability to cause any serious damage when cast defensively. Offensively, they are not exactly useful or particularly creative. They will stop an attacker from harming you, and then disable them so that no more harm can be done until the aurors arrive. After all, no matter how effective the ministry, aurors cannot be everywhere and some people are unfortunately corrupt in every society." His tone was bland as milk. Umbridge laughed once more.
"But should they really be practicing on each other?" She asked. "Surely they don't –"
"Madam Umbridge, would you be willing to give a demonstration?" She gave him a sour look, and he nodded as though that was exactly as he'd expected. "Well then, some people find it difficult to learn by theory alone; they need aid in figuring out the precise wand movements and inflection required. There is no need to go over any other spells as thoroughly as I will be covering these two, but to protect our future, I would be remiss to not ensure all my students leave with these spells known to them very well." Harry bit his lip to stop the smile that Geoffrey's words brought. He was splitting hairs so finely …
"Very well." Umbridge's frown made it clear she didn't approve, and she smiled. "The class can continue you know. I'll just watch."
"If you wish to watch, you should be out of their way, Ms. Umbridge. I do not wish you to be caught in the possible crossfire. It might muss your hair." He offered. "I need to ensure the perfect safety of my students, and while I don't normally appreciate an unwelcome audience, I do wish to know that you are at least within my vision." He gave a self-deprecating smile. "Auror training leaves one mildly paranoid, I must say, and having someone out of my range of vision leaves me twitchy. And a twitchy American is potentially dangerous. I might overreact."
"You can see me just fine." Umbridge simpered. "I wish to remain up here."
"Yes, I can see you, Madam Umbridge, but your wand arm is not in view and I don't trust you around the students. It's habit. With the students being mine, I protect them as well as I protect myself and I'm sorry to say I don't fully trust you. It's nothing personal. The number of people I'd trust to police a class with me I can list on one hand with space to spare. So, please, either indulge me or leave." He gave her a stare that had no quarter in it. Umbridge bristled, and left abruptly, slamming the door behind her. Geoffrey smiled and turned back to the class. "Continue as you were, please. Does anyone have a question for me? Relating to the lesson, please."
One hand remained up, and Geoffrey called on Seamus.
"Sir, are we really not going to learn other spells this well?" He asked. "Because I don't want to have some half-assed lessons about the rest of them. These are great, but …" He ended in a hapless shrug.
Geoffrey gave him a small smile. "True, we will not go over other spells quite as thoroughly as these. However, we will spend one or two lessons on each new spell depending on the ease of learning and the relevance the spell has. The difference is that I will not allow one of you to pass this year without knowing the shield spell and the disarming spell perfectly. The other spells will not be required to that degree. There are no worries, though. If you have not quite grasped the spells by the end of this week, I will have my office open for private tutoring over the rest of this year. For the other spells, I am considering sponsoring a Duelling club. Anyone here interested?" He asked, seemingly disinterested in the response. A flurry of looks were exchanged, and almost every hand in the class went up. It was almost every hand, because Lavender and Parvati were still chatting excitedly to each other, and Sophie wasn't an avid spell-caster. Geoffrey smiled.
"I suspected as much." He offered. "Signs will go up when it's finalized. Now then, back to practicing. I'm still seeing some difficulties from a few of you."
IIII
No sign for the Duelling club went up. Instead, in each Common Room come Wednesday, there was a formal looking document that read,
'By Order of The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts'
Harry didn't want to read more. He turned his back on it and asked Hermione curtly to find out and summarize it for him. Neville joined him in the chairs by the fire and sat down with a dark look. Hermione came over, her mouth pressed into a tight line and perched next to Neville.
"It's disbanding all groups." She said curtly. "None of them are allowed to exist without her permission. I think it's to slap down Professor Alfaerus' idea. But, also," Hermione eyed Harry carefully, "I think it included Quidditch as well."
Harry looked up at her in surprise and then groaned. "Angelina is going to have a conniption."
Neville gave a short laugh, and rocked forward. "More than likely. Think you can keep your temper and not get on her bad side?"
"I dunno." Harry offered. He stood quickly and tipped his head towards the door. There was breakfast to get to. "I reckon so, but then again, I can't quite change my parents, name, or political stance so my temper may be a moot point." His mouth twisted. "We may have more to worry about from Ron. Hopefully he'll have gotten his act together."
Neville sighed, and looked back into the common room as the portrait swung shut. "Good luck." He offered.
Harry's mouth twisted. Good luck would be something they'd need.
IIII
It was a close call to get the Gryffindor Quidditch team reinstated, but it happened the day after the notice went up. It was also immediately spread, from Slytherin no doubt, that Professor Alfaerus was going to be re-evaluated. Whatever it was, Harry found he didn't really care and just sighed and continued on. There was little he could do about that. What he could do, however, was have patience. The Weasley twins had received another 'anonymous' package, and they were now seriously bustling around the tower and no longer were hawking their wares. When pressed, they only said to stay low and wait for the week leading to Halloween.
Angelina threatened violent death if they got expelled before the match, but they promised to not get caught and, after remembering what Harry had said about the Blood Quill, she subsided with a grumble and posted a paper asking for anyone who wanted to get Beater training from Fred and George. Nanna signed on immediately. Practices became hectic and almost nightly when she could manage it, but, while this facilitated training the new reserve, it only highlighted a larger problem.
"Ronald Weasley, get back in the middle hoop!"
Harry looked down from watching Ginny track the snitch and sighed. Angelina was yelling at Ron again. The optimism from when he'd been upped to the proper team had died down in the last few weeks: ever since the Hogsmeade weekend and the Defence class afterwards. His jealously was now blinding him.
"You've let in four easy goals! Four! I don't know what's gotten into you, but snap out of it and get back in shape! We're playing Slytherin first, Slytherin, and if you're letting in goals like that, we are going to lose!"
Harry pulled out of it, and flew past Ginny to tail the golden snitch over on the far side. Ginny rounded on him and pulled up alongside, muttering irritably about something Harry didn't catch. A glance down showed him a bouncing, fast-moving blur and he paused as he watched Nanna pelt another bludger back at the grinning twins, and then she took out the other and smashed it at Jimmy Peakes, who yelped before beating it back at the other twin. Harry grinned. Peakes had been steadily improving since he found himself paired with the small, black-haired female second year. Apparently stung pride didn't always lead to trouble; Nanna had dared him to try out with her, to see if he'd win. He hadn't, but he'd stubbornly stayed on to learn as he'd done better than the other two hopefuls.
"Hey, Harry!"
Harry looked back up and then smiled weakly. Ginny was holding the struggling snitch, and Harry finally firmed his expression and nodded.
"Well done. Let it go and we'll chase it again. Then I think Angelina's going to make us play catch."
"Lovely." Ginny laughed. "I do want to hone some Chaser skills. It's not like I'll have all that much of a chance to play Seeker with you monopolizing the position. So, are you going to actually keep your attention on the snitch, or are you going to stare vacantly into space once more?"
"Nonsense." Harry returned with a straight face. "I was giving you a chance to catch the snitch, know what it feels like. I can't keep beating you all the time; there's little chance of you going up against someone of my skill on the pitch, after all, so I don't want you to get a mistaken impression of how challenging it really will be."
"And what if I'm up against Prince?" Ginny threw.
'You'd probably win because he let you, since he's got an unfair advantage and he hates the rest of his team' "I'll play anytime it's Prince on the other team. I can promise that."
Ginny gave him a disbelieving look, but Harry just ignored it and scanned for the snitch once more. She didn't persist.
Angelina continued to yell at Ron.
IIII
Monday, the week leading up to Halloween and the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin, started out with a repeat of the event against Susan and Hannah two weeks before. This time, as Madam Umbridge strode through the door, the milky white slime dropped upon her head and soaked through her clothes. Coming in behind her, Geoffrey stepped out of the way, and sighed. Harry, at the Gryffindor table, fought down a smile as Umbridge shrieked furiously. Geoffrey shot a cleaning charm at her. As it had with the Hufflepuffs, the slime came off easily in the wake of the spell, but left behind no hair. Umbridge's head was bald and shiny like an egg, without even the subtle stubble Susan and Hannah had been left with, nor eyebrows. Additionally, however, her clothes had had their colour bleached. Her previously baby blue sweater was a spotty off-white where the slime had been. She screamed furiously.
Most of the school fought down the quiet wave of laughter. Gryffindor was failing miserably at doing so. Susan, at the Hufflepuff table smiled brightly, running her hands through her very short hair.
While Hannah had immediately gone to Madam Pomfrey to get her hair regrown, Susan had stubbornly refused, and now wore the short locks with distinct pride. Harry had been surprised she handled it so well, but Susan had taken a moment to explain her suspicions. Harry had been startled she felt it was another girl who was taking it out on her for going out with him. Harry's mind had immediately taken him to Daphne, but he'd said nothing, merely nodding that he felt the same was likely. Susan had then knocked his socks off by asking if he would be willing to taking her out again sometime. He'd had to tell her a maybe – there were no more Hogsmeade weekends for the first term, and he intended to go home for the Holidays. With the homework so prevalent, those were the only free time he expected to have. Susan agreed, and thanked him before leaving.
The rest of that day had been spent in such a happy cloud, he didn't even respond to Neville's good-natured teasing.
Now, however, he enjoyed the fury Umbridge displayed. There would be plenty more of it to come.
IIII
It was the best week Harry had had in almost the entire time he'd been in Hogwarts. Umbridge went through quite the gauntlet. The twins usually played with her wardrobe, but several times they locked her in her office, and, once, put inside a niffler with a levitation charm on it. Harry had heard that every single china plate had been broken. It left him inordinately pleased.
Even more wonderful, though, was that the twins were never caught. Susan and Hannah had been questioned, but both had been able to completely truthfully say they had nothing to do with it. Hannah related that she had, in turn, ripped into Umbridge to find the culprit for ruining her hair, which left Umbridge supremely confident that they had nothing to do with it. Hannah had then offered to help the twins if they needed it.
Harry and the twins hadn't been able to stop laughing for five minutes afterwards.
The twins had managed to make everyone smile, from most of the houses to the teachers. Madam Pomfrey had actually sent a 'Thank You' card to the twins, as Umbridge had gone to her several times to get fixed up after the twins had done something she couldn't figure out. Madam Pomfrey had taken her sweet time, and used the most foul-tasting potions she could find. Snape had even stopped being unpleasant to any student during that week.
It seemed almost perfect that the crown of that week was the Gryffindor/Slytherin match. Harry was looking forward to the only public, friendly interaction he could get with his best friend. Ron hadn't improved in his attitude; Angelina was worried about how he would play that day. And Neville, as much as he tried, was still doting on Hermione. At least now, Harry knew that Neville wouldn't have had any contact with him anyways, only being a spectator. It was actually Hermione who had more interest in watching the game than he did. And, last but not least, there was so little Umbridge could do to ruin the game for him, he finally felt free.
Slytherin, though, was doing it's utter best to ruin things, but it wasn't anything new. Alan, of course, had no quarrel with the Gryffindor team, and was more likely to adopt a lofty persona and strut by without acknowledging them at all, but the rest of the team was nowhere near as aloof. Hexes were exchanged, as well as threats and insults. Ron was weathering them with the least skill, easily growing angry and while he wasn't scared in the least, his anger was almost as debilitating. It did not help that being told he was playing to their attempts merely enraged him further. Angelina had rather given up and privately taken Harry aside and told him to catch the snitch if Ron started failing. Harry nodded easily. He never had any trouble with the snitch, although Alan could certainly give him a run for his money in catching it. He would not be willing to fake off to spare Ron's feelings. But Harry was confident in his ability to beat him.
The morning of the match dawned bright and cold. Harry looked out the windows for a moment, and then sighed, grateful that if they were going to be outside, at least he'd be doing something rather than just sitting and freezing. He glanced at Ron's bed, and sighed. He was apparently already up.
Downstairs, Neville and Hermione were talking quietly at the base of the girl's stairs, Neville making a short wand motion and then Hermione gently took his hand to correct him. Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes, and strode over.
"You seen Ron?"
Neville glanced up and smiled tightly. "Why yes, I have. He walked through without looking at anybody with a rather pale complexion. Angelina ran out after him like a dog on the trail. I'm not really looking forward to seeing what this is going to do to the match."
"Relax." Harry said dryly. "He can't be so bad that I won't be able to save the day with a catch of the snitch."
"Alan has beaten you once." Neville commented. A faint flinch touched one eye, and his smile froze in a way only Harry noticed.
Harry laughed quietly. "Looks like I've gotten to you too."
Neville's grin widened easily. "Yeah, silly habit of yours."
Hermione looked between them and sighed. "Enough, both of you. Harry needs breakfast; it's freezing outside. We'll be cheering for you." Hermione nodded at him.
Harry led the way to the portrait hole and went first. "Well," He pondered. "Who else might you be cheering for at a Gryffindor/Slytherin match?"
Hermione sniffed. "I might cheer for Prince."
"Prince?" Harry looked at her incredulously. She flushed.
"Well, he's a decent boy, a good player, and nowhere near as underhanded as the rest of the Slytherin team. If I had to pick one of them, it would be him."
Harry shook his head. Oh, he was so going to have to share that with Alan. Neville looked a little put off, and then whined,
"Does this mean I've got Slytherin competition?"
Hermione sighed, and turned Neville abruptly to face her, and pulled him into a kiss. Harry kept walking. It was amusing, but it was painful in a strange way. He didn't want to ponder it, and just continued on to breakfast. He walked in, and stopped.
'What the Hell …'
Luna Lovegood was standing at the Slytherin table, wearing what looked like a life-sized lion hat. She noticed him, waved Alan off, and then strode over quickly and smiled up at Harry.
"Your secret friend says 'Hi', and also wanted to know just how easy he should go on you today as you're having issues with your other friends."
"Um," Harry couldn't think of an answer. Alan would not have told her that they were friends; he wouldn't have! But … "There's no need, I can beat him easily enough without him pulling some stop. Just … what's with the hat?"
Luna smiled brilliantly, "Gryffindor needs more support than Slytherin. Alan does fine without being cheered on, as do you, but Ronald has been looking sickly, so I felt I should give him a boost. Listen," Luna tapped the hat with her wand, and the lion stretched and roared. The school jumped, and mutters began as Luna giggled quietly. Harry blinked, and then sighed.
"Very well done. Feel free to take the message back to Alan, and get it right, would you?" Harry went to brush past her, and then paused and gave her a small smile. "And thanks. For supporting Ron."
Luna winked at him and flounced back over to Alan. A glance showed that Alan choked on something as she spoke, and Harry felt a little better. It was just Luna being Luna, then.
His seat at the table was as it had been for the past while. Across from him, Neville and Hermione sat together and chatted about assignments. On his side, it was Nanna, Melanie, Ginny and their friends, all deeply set in discussing their positions as reserves and the coming game. Nanna moaned once more about the twins' hard regimen, but she was smiling all the while. Harry tried to find the rest of the team; Fred and George were talking intently further up the table with Lee, and down were the Chasers and Ron, sitting almost alone across from Dean and Seamus. He wasn't eating and he'd probably try even less if Harry reminded him that he should. Feeling his own appetite shrivel, Harry downed another glass of juice and grabbed a muffin to take with him. Neville saluted him on his way out, and Harry only shortly acknowledged him before focusing on the coming game.
IIII
Alan dressed quickly in the locker room before stepping outside the wait. It was the only difficulty of his position: only one of the other players actually tolerated him. The rest, while not with Draco, were made from the same mould. They all believed the promise of Voldemort. Alan was tolerated because, while he certainly couldn't beat Harry, he could outdo all of the other seekers almost too easily. Most of the team was hoping for a repeat of last year's pick-up game where he did indeed beat Harry to the snitch. If it meant he got to go up against Harry once more without their griping, he wasn't about to tell them it was chance that gave him the catch over Harry, and not skill.
"Get moving, Prince." Montague growled, shouldering out the door and moving to the pitch. Alan waited for the rest of the team to walk out, Crabbe and Goyle eyeing the pitch dully as they obediently followed the Chasers, and then Alan wilfully picked up the rear, coming in last to eye the packed stands. He heard Luna's hat roar, and smiled even as he remembered her words earlier,
"Your secret friend says 'hi' back."
Alan wondered where on earth she'd gleaned that. She didn't know that Alan and Harry were friends; she'd just said it. His friends had eyed her oddly, and Alan had swallowed and just nodded and sceptically accepted with a curious look none of his friends misinterpreted, shaking his head as she left and wondering what on earth he was thinking, to be dating her. It wasn't bad, but … she was so complicated …
He was most grateful for the start of the game. Flying certainly gave him something else to do besides chase his thoughts in circles. Alan watched Harry pull up and begin circling, and did the same himself, looking as much at the crowds as for the snitch. He suspected something unpleasant was going to come from the Slytherin stands. Draco and his had been far too smug recently, and Stephanie had warned him that the seventh year prefect was up to something. Just because he was confident his friends would be fine, didn't make him worry less. Down below, the roar of the crowd was split by Lee Jordan's voice.
"Slytherin score! Bad luck, there, just bad luck. The quaffle goes back to Johnson, who passes to Spinnet and she's dodged a bludger from Crabbe, coming around to shoot on the Slytherin goals – Ohhh."
Alan smiled thinly. No luck at all, apparently. He dropped to avoid a half-hearted bludger from the twins, and then scanned for the snitch once before returning back to listening to the roaring crowd, amidst which seemed to be some singing. Lee apparently noticed as well.
"We've got some of the crowd singing something, what could it be?"
The comment brought a burst of volume from the singers,
Weasley was born in a bin,
He always lets the quaffle in,
Weasley will make sure we win,
Weasley is our king.
Alan paused incredulously. What in the bloody blue blazes was that?
Weasley is our king,
Weasley is our king,
He always lets the quaffle in,
Weasley is out king!
Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring-
The singing cut off abruptly in a frightened squeal. Alan spun to look, and barked a short laugh when he saw the disruption in the Slytherin stands. "Merlin, Mary, and Mordred." He murmured. "Couldn't Draco come up with something a little better than that?"
Lee had returned to commentating loudly and insistently. The song, however gone it now was, had apparently shaken Ron and he let another score through before Warrington screamed,
"Prince, go get the bloody snitch!"
Alan looked immediately for Harry, and sure enough, he was already shooting towards the ground, plunging in a chase of a small, blurred gold spot. Alan shot after him, knowing it was pointless. He was too far away, and if he tried to make a 'straight' shot, he'd compromise himself with the Weasley twins, who both were near bludgers and quite capable of hitting him. He dove, though, in case Harry had bad luck and the snitch changed angles. It did, but it went sidelong and down – away from him. Even a near freefall didn't get him near fast enough. Harry closed his hand over the snitch, and Alan saw Crabbe near a bludger.
"Potter, move your ass!" He shouted.
Harry's head came up, and he shot forward, out of the line of the bludger Crabbe had aimed. Alan had enough time to land before the others lit into him.
"Prince, what the Hell was the big idea? Is Potter more important to you than winning? Some secret boyfriend or something?" Warrington yelled. None of the rest of the team seemed at all disturbed. The keeper ignored him completely. He wasn't willing to fight them; Alan didn't care.
"No, he's not." Alan answered dryly. "I just don't approve of ridiculous underhanded tactics and riding the corruption of the system. If you're so upset, you can always try and see if Draco is better than I am."
"It's tempting." Montague growled.
Alan gave him a sweet smile, and walked back in the direction of the changing rooms. He'd already seen the Gryffindor team gather across the pitch, cheered but subdued with the lacklustre keeping of Ron. Alan was abreast of the stands when Draco filed out. His lower lip was swollen, and his tender walk spoke of a low blow, but he still snarled upon seeing Alan.
"Heard you've got a soft spot for the Gryffindors, Alan."
Alan eyed Draco tiredly. "You use that brain for gossip only, Draco?"
"I've got more skill than you do, Prince!" Draco growled.
"Really?" Alan rolled his eyes. "So it must have been Pansy who thought up that atrocious and childish tune you were singing earlier?"
"Feel jealous of that hovel Ron's got? Gotta be nicer than some uncaring father who lives under a rock." Draco growled.
Alan felt his face cool, and he sibilantly asked, "Better than a father who only sees you as progeny, not a person. You know, that threat is still there. To remove the only thing your father cares about. One of mine certainly already tried. What do you think he'd do if that were ruined, hm? Might he actually sleep with your mother for the second time?"
Draco turned red with rage, and snarled, "Watch your tongue, Prince! You don't know anything!"
Alan rolled his eyes and turned to walk away. Someone cried out behind him, and Alan ducked and rolled away from the expected attack. The spell sailed over his head, and Alan watched it go, feeling his eyes widen at the crater it left on the changing rooms. That would have hurt!
Alan turned back and felt himself not care anymore. He was tired of playing half-assed. Draco didn't know what hit him, first. Alan remembered the sore and frustrating lessons when Geoffrey had first starting teaching him martial arts. He'd only stopped whining after being shown what learning the discipline would accomplish, when the slim Jannicke had overcome two of Geoffrey's brothers at once.
He'd felt it was truly worth it when Geoffrey had finally talked Velorian and Nicholas into expanding his knowledge with dirty tricks and street fighting.
Now, Draco was on the ground and nursing a broken arm before Alan felt someone grab his shoulder to pull him off. He spun, and stopped when he met Lucille's eyes. Alan pulled out of her grip and leaned onto Draco's throat again, compressing his windpipe and hissing into his ear,
"Keep this in mind next time you want to play chicken, you inbred varmint."
He jumped to his feet before Lucille reached for him again, and stepped willingly back and out of the way of Madam Hooch. Across the stadium, Alan noticed that most of the Gryffindor team was watching them curiously. Alan suppressed a tight smile. Oh, Harry was going to want to know what just happened so badly.
Madam Hooch called him back to the scene. "What got into you, Mr. Prince? Enough of that sordid behaviour; you will go inside immediately and I will send in your Head of House shortly. Get a move on, and no dawdling. Despicable, and uncivilized is what that was; abominable!"
Alan didn't pause to argue, but walked quickly into the castle and down the halls to his father's office, pondering whether it was worth it to stay on the Quidditch team. All of them hated him, and while it was nice to compete against Harry, it was getting tedious. No matter how expected it was, losing all the time was not encouraging.
He got into the office and waited patiently, examining the displays on the walls and trying to think of a potion that used each one, until Severus opened the door and came in with a tight expression.
"Alan, what brought on that … childish display?"
"I got tired of playing the mouse this year, and Draco offered a good opening to blow off some steam." Alan answered calmly. He then turned to look at Severus and smirked. "Besides, he did start it."
Severus merely raised his eyebrow, and Alan opened his mouth to continue when there was a brisk little knock on the door before it was opened without permission. Severus' face darkened, and Alan straightened, his expression cool. When he saw it was Umbridge, Alan looked down a moment before bringing his face back up. He wasn't playing games with her anymore. Let her think what she liked.
"Hem hem." She began. "Good to see you're here. I was wondering if you might like some extra authority in dealing with the rude display we saw earlier."
"I believe I have the matter in hand, Madam Umbridge." Severus answered tightly. He turned to glare at Alan and sighed. "Alan, two weeks detention and I expect an extra essay each week."
Alan nodded; he'd expected that. It would make it hard for him to do much extracurricular, so it was a fair punishment.
"Hem hem."
Alan hated that sound.
"Yes?" Severus hissed, turning his full glare on Madam Umbridge. Alan schooled his face into being impassive; he did not need to encourage her with any attitude right now.
"I don't believe that's quite fair. He did some serious damage to young Mr. Malfoy, and that temper … I just don't believe it's quite safe to allow him to remain on the Quidditch team." She smiled saccharinely. Alan felt a twinge of relief inside, and gave her the angry face she expected. "Oh yes," she simpered again, pleased with his anger, "I do believe it just isn't safe. He was raised by those Americans."
"Madam Umbridge, I believe I am his head of house and have authority over his punishment, including the fact that I am also the head of house of Mr. Malfoy."
"Well, you see Professor Snape, that just won't do." She twittered. "I found this troubling earlier as well, when Minerva decided to override me in getting the Gryffindor team reinstated, so I had to bring up this gap to Cornelius. As it stands, I have no more power than the base teacher, but here," she pulled a scroll out of her pocket, and rolled it open. Alan clenched his hands. He didn't like this at all. "Educational Decree Number Twenty-five."
Severus' lips were so tight there was a white line around the edges. Madam Umbridge watched his reactions hungrily.
"'The High Inquisitor will now have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the power to alter such punishments, sanctions, and removals of privileges as may have been ordered by other staff members. Signed, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, Order of Merlin First Class, etc., etc.'" She smiled sweetly as she put the paper away. Alan had turned his face into a tight mask, obvious even to her that he was containing his reaction. Severus had gone from angry to blank.
"Well then, I think I should ban Alan Prince from playing Quidditch ever again."
"You only have power over Hogwarts." Alan bit out.
Umbridge smiled. "I'm sure Cornelius would be more than pleased to enforce it elsewhere. You seem most unstable, child, and really, you're a danger. Can't be trusted at all."
The tension in his hands pulled at the scar, and Alan forcibly relaxed his hands, falling into the meek expression to try and keep her at bay.
Once she perceived his surrender, she turned back to smiling at Severus. "I will want his broomstick confiscated, of course, to keep from having any infringement of my ban. I'll keep it in my office, just to be sure." Severus nodded stiffly, unwilling to press. She smiled in utmost satisfaction. "Well, good afternoon to you, then." She turned and left.
Alan brought his head back up and looked quietly at Severus out of the corner of his eyes. Severus sat back down into his chair, hard, and ground his teeth.
"So, do I still have detention?" Alan asked lightly.
"Why bother?" Severus growled. "The High Inquisitor is satisfied with her punishment. I see no reason to add my own when I don't even have a large grievance with what you did. Mind, I do not approve of you attacking him nor baiting him, but it is not worth this."
Alan shrugged. "I'll have Geoffrey see about getting my broom from her, but if that doesn't work I'll just get him to buy me a new one. It's just a broom, and he's been hawking the prestige of one of the new American brooms." Alan smirked. "Although it's nowhere near as good as the Firebolt, every once in a while he gets patriotic."
Severus nodded slowly. "And the Quidditch team?"
Alan snorted. "I'd been considering dropping out as it was. They don't like me. Let them lose with Draco as seeker." Alan stood quietly and smirked. "I'm going for a walk, then."
Severus nodded shortly and then turned to some of the essays on his desk. Alan left without looking back.
A/N: Next chapter! Thank you everyone for reading, triple thanks for those who reviewed, and please read and review again! I do hope you liked it, lots of promise, stuff, Ron, Umbridge ... and then we come to Christmas! rubs hands together and cackles I have things planned for Christmas! Toodle-pip!
Fire & Napalm