The Prince-Who-Lived

Chapter Forty

Monday morning, Harry was surprised to get a strange owl in the morning post – his mother usually wrote on Saturdays – but he accepted it anyways and reflexively checked the scroll for strange spells. There were none unexpected – a few weatherproofing, another to keep it shut until it was removed from the owl – and without noticing Ron and Hermione's curious looks at the spell work, he opened the cylindrical package and blinked as he opened to the European Magical Monthly. He smiled as he took in the front image, and spread the magazine flat so his friends could see as well. Ron made a choking noise, and Hermione gasped happily.

"Oh, wow. He really did give an interview, didn't he?"

The cover was a portrait of Alan giving the photographer a wry smile, and above it on the right side was the caption, "A first hand account of the real discord in Britain" Hermione made a querulous sound.

"What is this magazine? I've never found it."

"It's nowhere near common; I've rarely seen it." Harry admitted. "It's a travel magazine, circulated through most of Europe, and a few further places excluding America. It talks about breeding seasons for magical creatures, the most recent business developments, and the political climates." Harry explained. "Every magazine has some obscure translating spell on it that lets everyone read it without having to worry about marketing different editions. The scope of what it covers and that spell are part of the reason it's an expensive magazine, but also respected and in demand by some circles." Harry then frowned. "Alan never told me he was giving an interview. When would he have managed this?"

Ron frowned. "He was off with Luna on the last Hogsmeade weekend. I think Umbridge would have jumped him if he'd left any other time. Doesn't Luna's father –"

Ginny ran over before he finished and smiled as she saw the Magical Monthly. "Oh good, you got one too. I got the Quibbler's article from Luna. Alan did the interview on the last Hogsmeade weekend, and the Quibbler went out yesterday; Magical Monthly released a special bimonthly issue for it's subscribers as an 'important update', at least that's what Blaise said. His mother got her issue last Tuesday, but since he says EMM's a very limited run the Quibbler will probably get more reaction around here. Alan said you got yours now just to be special; he asked the lady to do it." Ginny bounced in place. "I'm so excited." Her giddy expression suddenly turned vindictive. "What do you think Umbridge will do?"

Harry shrugged, and then frowned. "Why isn't Alan inundated with owls?"

"Don't know." Ginny shrugged. "If he's told Blaise, it hasn't come through to me."

Ron frowned at the reminder of his sister's boyfriend, but didn't say anything even as his gaze slid to Harry again. Hermione had stolen the magazine and was reading the article, politely tilting it to let Neville read as well. Harry turned to Ginny as he waited for the return of his magazine and nodded at the two readers.

"Is the article in each magazine the same?"

"No," Ginny answered, "Although essentially it is. Because Magical Monthly has such a broad audience, there's a lot more information in that article, although most of it is background on the war. At the end is speculation about the causes and when the upheaval should abate. It's a travel magazine, so the approach is different."

Harry smiled wryly, "Are you quoting Blaise?" Ginny blushed, and Harry's smile became a grin. "Whatever," Harry waved her away. "I'll check it out when I get it back. How long do you think it'll take Umbridge to notice?"

"With the Quibbler out? Blaise is betting by the afternoon."

"What are the odds?" Harry inquired idly. No one answered, and finally Ron asked,

"Mate, what are you staring at the air for?"

Harry flushed and came back to himself. "Sorry. I forgot I wasn't hanging with Blaise so he wouldn't give me the betting pool. I should go ask."

Harry stood and left, leaving behind his incredulous friends, Neville still sitting by – pointedly not touching – Hermione.

As it turned out, the betting was pointless. Harry's trip over to Alan and Blaise prompted Umbridge to scuttle over to find out what the large interhouse group was up to. Luna most proudly presented the Quibbler article to Umbridge and didn't blink an eyelash as it was insulted, stomped upon, and banned as soon as the signs could be put up. As soon as she left the group, however, Alan beamed at Luna and kissed her cheek. Harry, amused and mollified by the relaxed and triumphant air of Alan's group leaned against the table and finally stated,

"Okay, apparently that was planned."

Alan smiled, and Lucille indulgently explained. "Blaise rather scathingly pointed out last week that the moment Umbridge caught wind of the interview she'd have a conniption and prevent it from entering the school. Well, what's the quickest way to get a bunch of teenagers to do something?"

"Ahh," Harry laughed. "Contraband is hotter than dragon fire. Make it forbidden, and everyone will want to read it. Why put it in the Magical Monthly, though? I doubt Umbridge even knows about that."

Alan smiled warmly. "I gave the interview to a friend of Lucille's, Janathon Leader." Harry saw Dillan perk up, and Alan nodded to him. "She normally works for the Magical Monthly and felt it would be a beneficial article for the magazine to run, so I wasn't about to deny her."

Harry smiled ironically, "And now much of Europe knows that Cornelius Fudge is a backwards idiot." Alan just continued to smile like a sated cat, and Harry finally shook his head. "Whatever works, you Slytherin. I'll see you in Potions?"

"Of course." Alan nodded benevolently. "I hope you get the article back before Umbridge catches on and bans the EMM too. I think you'll like that article in particular."

Harry gave Alan a raised eyebrow, but waved and walked out to History. Neville handed him the magazine, and Harry read the article as Binns droned on and on, finally using a spell Alan had showed him, muffliato, on himself to keep Binns soporific voice out of his head; it was putting him to sleep even while he tried to ignore it. When he came out of History, Harry was surprised at the breadth of the article; Ms. Leader must have done a ton of research to write such an in-depth article. Most of it wasn't focused on Alan's experience; indeed, that had been mostly relegated to fact rather than sensation, even when it was the main point. Harry had never seen the war in such a clear light, although a large amount of it was out of his depth. He'd send the magazine home during lunch: neither his parents nor the Longbottoms received either the Quibbler nor the Magical Monthly and he really wanted them to read it.

However, several facts surprised Harry and he made a point of arriving early to Potions to ask Alan about it. Sitting happily in the spot next to Alan, Harry unpacked his stuff and shot him a look.

"I read the article; I'm sending it home during lunch, but where did you get all the names from?" Harry asked quietly. "You didn't have those at the end of last year."

Alan blinked at Harry and nodded slowly. The reminder clearly discomforted him but Harry wasn't going to tiptoe around the point; Alan would be even more upset if he were treated delicately.

"It came out recently." Alan evaded. "It's not that it's unmentionable, just that it's not important." A faint sibilance surrounded both times he said 'not', noticeable only because of his vicinity, and Harry nodded slowly. That was going to be a thing to figure out: how did Theodore get all the names?

Alan glanced back over at him and tilted his head. Harry looked over and Alan blinked a few times. After a minute, Harry remembered the practice Alan had had him do with Legilimency and subtly, hesitantly he attempted it.

With Alan facilitating his entry, it was relatively easy which was good because he was just above useless at the skill. Immediately, he was directed to a memory, and Harry saw Alan's dorm, Blaise laying on his bed, Alan sitting at the head. Theodore had a book open on his lap, his quill lax in his hand and his soft voice filling the confines their silenced and locked room.

" –he's getting feeble in his old age, and stupid. He's completely sure of my 'loyalty' so he doesn't restrict me; he couldn't if he tried. He's so senile he never noticed that I could use Legilimency, and he's never attempted to learn Occlumency. He fears the Dark Lord's disapproval. Anyways, I only attempted it because I was curious; I didn't really need it. When I got home from school, he bragged about the Dark Lord's return, and about how proud he would be when I was of age and he would present me to him." Theodore's lip curled in disgust, and he spat, "I will not be a servant."

Harry felt Alan's amusement; apparently a lot of his friends were developing such a sentiment. It was part of what drew Blaise to him in the first year, part of what attracted Lucille and Salvador to a younger student.

"He told me most everything, but no names. When I practiced Legilimency, it was … well; I'm not really good. But my father's so old, and so obsessed. The meeting was ripe in his mind, and he knew everyone who was there and everyone who should be there." His gaze rose, and Alan knew the accusation like the back of his hand …

Alan pushed gently, and Harry retreated, coming out of it disoriented and fighting a yawn. Practicing left him so very worn. His mind felt wrung out, and it was fortunate he was paired with Alan because he wouldn't be able to concentrate well for a few hours. Severus brushed in, and Harry immediately straightened and gave it his best face. Curiosity had a price, and he didn't need Severus adding to it.

IIII

As Luna had known, banning the Quibbler ensured all of the students fought to get a hold of the article. Harry sent the EMM out barely in time; Umbridge found out that it also held a copy of the interview and went into a fury, banning it as well, the notices going up next to all of the ones involving the Quibbler.

That evening, when Umbridge came into the supper hall, she immediately disappeared or so it seemed. The laughter started at the Slytherin table and moved across the Hall in a wave of whispers. The Staff table, already mostly full, didn't seem too hurried about getting the news, and just waited as it filtered through the students. It was barely a few minutes before it came through from Hannah at the Hufflepuff table; she got up and ran over to hug Ron, much to his embarrassment. Hannah quickly remembered herself and stopped, blushing darkly even as she spoke, a smile on her face.

"Oh, you won't believe this! Umbridge got turned into a toad! A literal toad! Fred, George, was that you?"

The twins blinked and mournfully shook their heads. "No, we didn't have anything for today. Human to animal transfiguration … whoever did that was good. That's a trigger-spell combination that's more than a little difficult. If we find out, we definitely want to talk to whoever did that."

Harry blinked as the murmur changed, and watched a tall, black-haired Ravenclaw push out from the table and walk into the aisle, picking something up and carrying it up to the staff table, presenting the huge, ugly toad to Dumbledore; it spilled over the boy's hands, larger than a dinner plate. He then spoke, and Harry was surprised he could hear; he hadn't thought the boy had used any spells and maybe he hadn't, but even at the far end of the Gryffindor table his words were clear.

"Here Headmaster. I felt we should spare her the long hop and just bring her up here. You might wish to change her back elsewhere, though, ma'am." He nodded to McGonagall. "The pile of clothes suggests she won't have retained her decency."

His tone was apologetic. Harry stared for a moment longer; he was sure he knew who the boy was, and finally it clicked: Jonas Hodges. Remembering Alan's warnings, though, Harry stayed silent, biting his lip to check his laughter. He didn't know what precipitated the move, but man. Whatever she did, the revenge of a seventh year Ravenclaw was interesting. Even more so was that none of the staff table made any move to scold him despite the plain tone that said he was at fault. Poor Umbridge, to be so unliked... Except he really didn't care.

Unfortunately, Neville and Hermione were no longer off balance and just because Neville had taken to mostly remaining silent didn't mean he held too strongly to it.

"What just occurred to you, Harry?" Neville asked. "You've got a look that's rather blatant. Hasn't Alan cured you of that yet?"

Harry turned to frown at Neville. "Alan isn't my keeper." He protested indignantly.

"But you did just think of something." Hermione shot. "What was it? Do you know who that boy who got Madam Umbridge was?"

Harry frowned again, this time in worry. Finally, he sighed. "I really can't say," He offered, and left it at that. Neville and Hermione both gave him long searching looks and gave in. Ron, however, didn't.

"What do you mean by that?"

Neville sighed lightly, but didn't speak up again. Hermione frowned at Neville and corrected Ron. "Harry either knows and doesn't want to tell us; would be acted against if he did tell us, or doesn't know and feels like being an ass. I suspect it's all a Slytherin trait he's cultivating."

Harry gave Hermione and Ron a crooked smile, and then turned back to finishing his meal. They left him alone after that, concerned or annoyed looks held in check for the moment.

The next day during break, Fred and George were making a small commotion selling some sort of Headless Hats when the tall dark Ravenclaw of yesterday came up through there and picked up a hat to examine it. Fred immediately turned and snatched it back with a smile, clearly talking quickly. Jonas grinned coldly back and made a return offer. The twins abruptly put the harking on hold and entered a tight circle of conversation with the fellow seventh year. Across the courtyard, Harry leaned back against a pillar, smiling most satisfactorily. Hermione jumped him again.

"Harry, who is that?"

"I'm sure the twins will have an answer for you when you beard them at lunch." Harry evaded. Neville finally sighed.

"Harry, why are you being so cagey?"

"Neville, you remember when you got cursed senseless last month?"

Neville blinked for a moment, and then suddenly made a small 'oh' of surprise. He laughed tightly, and gently waved off Hermione's inquiries. "Hermione, just leave him alone. He really shouldn't risk telling you. It's probably just ridiculously cautious, but in this case better safe than sorry."

Hermione huffed angrily. "What do you both know that you can't tell me? This is getting really frustrating, Harry, and you, Neville, aren't helping. Some of us aren't so stupid that you need to keep us in the dark! I don't think it's fair for you to keep brushing me off, and Ron as well." Ron, behind her, squeaked at his sudden inclusion. "Just because you two are long-term friends doesn't give you the right to marginalize me and Ron for only being friends since school began. But apparently five years means nothing to you! I don't know why I keep bothering to talk to you if I get brushed off every time something happens you don't think I'll follow."

Harry bit back an undignified 'eep'. Hermione had a point, and he was an idiot. "I'm sorry, Hermione!" Harry blurted. "Really, I … wow. Um, wow." Sheepishly he ran his hand over his face, and then jumped when the bell rang. Worriedly, he waved her beside him as he turned to make for Transfiguration, sheepishly looking up at her. "Hermione, I'm really sorry. I never noticed I was doing that, and I shouldn't. I'm just … it's not just Neville that's keeping me from including you."

"Then what is it?" Hermione asked, her ire spent and replaced with an implacable curiosity.

"You know how I rather abruptly made friends with Alan this year."

"You said you'd been friends since second year." Hermione pointed out. "When you cleaned up everything with Neville. What does – are you worried I won't like the Slytherins?"

"Partially, and next that you won't get along with them. And it's only partly the fact that you're muggleborn."

"Okay, why might I not get along with them?" Hermione asked. She was not going to be diverted. "Harry, I want to be your friend but I've been pushed aside my whole life and I'm tired of it. Either tell me, or just leave."

Harry winced again. "If you retain the opinion that Slytherins are conniving bastards, well, you're going to be completely accurate but it's … it's as bad as calling you a bushy-haired bookworm. It's not wrong, no. But is it really something to be pointed out?"

Hermione took him at his word and thought about it for several minutes before nodding slowly. "Alright. I guess you're right." She looked over at him, and the look was one step up from outright crying for the blackmail. "But please. I don't want to be cut off."

Harry sighed. Great. Hermione, Neville, and Blaise in the same room. He was so screwed. Salvador would kill him. Lucille would have a new best friend. "Alright." He agreed, and then grinned. "Neville, how badly do you think Salvador will kill me for introducing Lucille to Hermione?"

Neville snorted delicately. "I think he'll have to wait until Alan and Blaise finish with you. The two of them are going to be Hell on the bookwork. We'll never get any talking done."

Harry laughed quietly and Hermione pouted before he ushered her into her seat with Ron and took the spot by Neville in class, waiting for McGonagall to come in. Harry leaned forward to reassure her, "You can come with me during lunch to find them. They'll probably be in the library if they're not still at the Slytherin table. Ron, if you want to come you can but you can't insult any of them unless you want to be bodily removed from the area with your toes tied in a knot."

Ron swallowed, and after a moment just quietly shook his head. "I'll run into them … later. I've got homework to work on. Will …" He looked worriedly between Neville, Hermione and Harry, and Hermione smiled brightly at him.

"I'll gladly go over your homework after supper, Ron, to make sure everything's good. It's no trouble."

Ron subsided with a few quick nods, and then he settled into his seat as McGonagall came in and class started.

IIII

The hype from the articles lasted for the entire week, and by the end of it, although it had died down, the general attitude of the school had changed. Umbridge was being eyed with suspicion, and it seemed to be particularly coming from the Ravenclaws. There was a tension in the air, and no longer was it against Alan. Alan's interview had turned a lot of opinions; most of the houses had changed their support, save for Slytherin. Harry strongly suspected the choice to ban the magazines entirely – with such a harsh penalty – had played strongly in turning the school against Umbridge. However, she didn't seem to notice, as, conversely, the action had solidified the promise for those who would believe the Dark Lord's return, or those who blindly followed the ministry. The entire school was on edge.

The week after prompted a wave of subversive pranks. Small things, like tied shoelaces, lost buttons, dry inkwells and trip jinxes aimed from both sides. Alan seemed to be able to walk in a pool of calm, but Blaise got himself another detention when he picked a fight with Marietta Edgecomb over a broken quill. Harry and his were mostly left alone; any Gryffindor who wasn't supporting Dumbledore was dead silent about it. Harry didn't really agree with their quiet acquiescence, but he supposed it was for the better at the moment.

However, such minor things were abruptly shattered when the Monday after, dinner was interrupted by a loud and piercing shriek. Sitting at the Gryffindor table, it was a struggle to get through to see what was happening, but several people parted ways easily for his glare and face, and as the shrieking continued, Ron finally squeaked,

"Professor Trelawney! It looks like she's getting sacked!"

Harry gave up on getting a view of it, and looked up the stairs. Professor Umbridge was standing at the top looking immensely self-satisfied.

"You c-can't!" A woman sobbed. Harry assumed it was Professor Trelawney; he'd never really met the woman himself, not taking Divination. "You c-can't sack me! I've b-been here sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home!"

"It was your home," Some twisted pleasure crossed Umbridge's face as she watched the brokenly sobbing Trelawney in the space between all the students, "until an hour ago, when the Minister of Magic counter-signed the order for your dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this hall. You are embarrassing us."

Irritably, Harry elbowed one of the students in his way, and the black-haired girl frowned but moved herself and her friend aside, affording Harry a rough look at the scene from between the last row of students. Trelawney was sitting on one of her trunks, the other overturned beside her, an empty bottle of sherry hanging loosely in her hand. She was shuddering in paroxysms of grief; to his right, Harry could hear several girls sniffling and sobbing as well. It was very annoying, really, but to see Umbridge smiling so happily at Trelawney's tears made Harry clench his fists impotently. He didn't like the woman; he thought she was a fraud. But she was still a teacher, and a much better one than he could imagine Umbridge being. Umbridge had no right to be throwing her out!

Abruptly, McGonagall strode across the floor, and moved to comfort Trelawney, handing her a handkerchief and reassuring words, words Harry wasn't sure she could make good on. Umbridge bristled in offence, and then the doors to the Entrance Hall opened. The melodrama was too much; when Dumbledore stood framed most impressively against the darkened, misty grounds, Harry just snorted. Ron and Hermione hushed him irritably as they listened.

All in all, it didn't much affect Harry; he didn't take Divination, and while he found that Dumbledore's decision to hire Firenze in Trelawney's place was foolish and petty, he had no say in the matter. It was, however, interesting to hear from Firenze that Hagrid's attempt was not working, whatever it was. It fired his curiosity about it once more, but got him nowhere. Hagrid didn't want to hear it, and would say nothing about it. When Harry lost his temper and yelled at him, however, Hagrid proved to have a bit of giant in him after all when he firmly picked Harry up and placed him outside the door with a grumbled admonition to leave him alone. Ashamed, Harry quietly apologized through the wood and left without waiting for the acknowledgement. The tension was just killing him. He wished Umbridge were gone.

IIII

The frustration had one benefit: Alan had noted it, and immediately told Harry to bring his friends down to the Chamber the first weekend in April. Their escape was much easier since the twins' products still creating havoc from their birthday celebration, and Harry, Hermione, Neville, Ron and the twins snuck down early Saturday morning. They had not expected to arrive and find Alan and his plus Melanie, Nanna, and Ginny already there, much less Geoffrey lounging in a conjured overstuffed armchair. As they came in, Geoffrey cracked an eye open and Alan smiled warmly. There were more than twenty people present; Harry had never had a meeting so full down here. What was Alan up to?

"Hey!" Alan called. "You brought everyone?" The question in his voice gave it a deeper meaning than the surface.

Harry just smiled. "Certainly. Hermione gave me the what for weeks ago. You remember."

Alan smiled; he did remember, and, as expected, Hermione had hit it off with Lucille right off the bat. Alan, Blaise, Theodore and Salvador had all given him wounded looks. Neville had just laughed, but Hermione had been welcomed in easily. Ron still hadn't come to join them in the library, but he wasn't arguing against them doing so and knew he had a standing invitation. However, when Alan had invited him down this weekend, he'd said bring everyone, so Harry had talked him into it. When he mentioned that Ginny would probably be down there are well, it had cinched it for Ron. Harry had been surprised when the twins admitted to receiving an invitation from Jonas Hodges, who had taken a keen interest in their pranks since he'd turned Umbridge into a toad. Part of the birthday celebration initiative had been because Jonas had dared them to cause massive havoc without getting caught. Naturally, the twins hadn't been able to turn the dare down. Harry suspected there was something more to it, but the twins weren't talking.

At any rate, between all the circumstances an extended group had arrived in the Chamber, and Alan quickly bounced to his feet, giving the tired-looking Geoffrey a disparaging look, and then turned to the rather full table to begin to introduce everyone.

"Alright, everyone I invited is here and everyone those people invited are here as well so since I think a few of you haven't crossed paths before, sit down and we'll have a rundown." He mock-glared. "Do it, because I said so."

Jonas sent a rude gesture at Alan, but obligingly sat next to Dillan at the far end. Harry took the empty seat at Alan's right, across from Blaise, Neville at his right, followed by the twins, Ron, and Hermione. Harry frowned; the table wasn't long enough for everybody, but apparently it was being made do with, as Lucille sat on Salvador's lap, and Ginny on Blaise's. Ron and the twins both made strangled startled noises, but a glare from Ginny kept the protestations unvoiced. Alan merely laughed and waved Luna onto his seat, which he'd vacated in favour of standing. Clearing his throat to get attention, Stephanie and the Head Girl turned around in their seats, their friends standing nearby, one of them taking the initiative to sit on the black girl's lap. Harry blinked at it, and then turned at a delicate cough. Daphne was standing nearby, smiling.

"May I take your lap, Harry? There aren't anymore seats and I'd rather not stand."

The entire table rumbled with faint laughter, and Harry cursed as he blushed, but he sat back and smiled despite it. "Sure, have a seat."

Daphne gave him a brilliant smile and gently sat on his lap. Ron shook his head as he chortled.

"What, no more Susan?"

Harry coloured again, and shrugged awkwardly. "Hey, I'm not hitched to her yet. I'm allowed to flirt and the like and Susan's not here." He sniffed pointedly. "My lap was cold."

"Bet it ain't cold now." Blaise shot.

Harry grinned at him. "Shut up. You've got a lap warmer yourself."

"Enough." Alan scolded, laughter in his own voice. "Enough people here have lap warmers, we don't have to discuss it. I was trying to do introductions for those who aren't all familiar with each other, unless no one is interested?"

A few people scoffed, but Fred, George and Hermione made affirmative noises, and Jonas just sighed. "Get on with it already, Alan."

Alan sent a rude gesture back at Jonas, and then pointed to Blaise and Ginny in the first seat on his left. "Blaise Zabini, son of the lovely black widow, and the youngest Weasley, first female in generations. Behind them are the beanpole Theodore Nott and the lovely Tracey Davis. Next to Blaise is Melanie Longbottom, Neville's illustrious younger sister, and then Nanna Potter, Harry's notorious little sister."

The introductions got various responses; Melanie and Nanna blushed, Ginny and Blaise made faces and Theodore made another exchange of vulgar sign language as Tracey just rolled her eyes.

"Salvador is the other black boy with a lap warmer, who's gotten an invite to take the name of Baker since the Hopkins didn't like him telling them where to shove it, and his lap warmer is Lucille Pupp, the bird brained Amazon." Alan had to duck a hex immediately, but he just laughed and continued, as she sent no more. "Next is Stephanie Rothschild, the black-haired beautiful seventh year, and her friends, the Head Girl, Julianna Ellsmare in the red hair, Raina Kozumplik as the small bundle of power," Alan ducked another spell, "Victoria Growman, tall, brunette, and shapely, and last but not least, Morgen Thatass, the black lady of the hour, and daughter of the Minister of Magic from … some years ago. Who's currently got Victoria warming her lap."

Alan paused to bow to the seventh years, to much giggling, and a blush from Victoria, and then nodded to the end of the table where Dillan and Jonas sat. "The far end is the place for Jonas Hodges, the other seventh year on my end, and Dillan Baker, the fourth year associate of the infamous Hodges." Alan made a face at them, and then laughed. "They're your British hand in the pool of not-quite-legal."

Jonas raised an eyebrow at Alan, and Alan blatantly returned the gesture, his posture daring him to say otherwise. Jonas settled back into his chair with a Cheshire grin, hands folded lazily over his belly, eyes half-lidded. He was purposefully looking dangerous, but Alan just smiled brightly and turned to nod at Hermione, brushing off the display.

"And to move into the Gryffindors, Hermione Granger, the bird brained lion girl who is most welcomed by our Lucille, and then next to her a set of three Weasleys, Ron, the Gryffindor Keeper," Ron straightened at the acknowledgement, looking almost surprised, "and then the Gryffindor Beaters, more seventh years, Fred and George, who have also been running the wonderful pranks against Madam Umbridge." Alan's voice was mocking the title. "Beside them is Neville Longbottom, of much revised repute nowadays and perfectly capable of rivalling Blaise, and then Harry Potter with the lap warmer Daphne Greengrass, a beauty intent upon snagging her current chair cushion."

Harry snorted. "What, no snappy quip for me?"

"You need as much of a quip as I do, Harry, so shut it. I haven't finished." Alan stuck his tongue out and turned to pull Luna up, pulling her in front of himself and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. At 192 cm, he was plenty tall enough to do so, and Luna happily leaned back into his chest. "Luna Lovegood, prettiest girl in Hogwarts, and smart enough in her own odd as Hell way."

Luna looked up at him with a dreamy smile. "You're always so flattering, Alan."

The group laughed again, and when Alan leaned down and kissed her, Blaise and Theodore both started loudly counting seconds. Alan completely ignored them, turning Luna enough to kiss comfortably, and finally Harry coughed to no effect. He was about to consider a second option, when Geoffrey spoke up.

"Alan, I think whatever little carnivorous bug she threatened you with is satiated now. You can get on with the little lesson you dragged me out of bed for."

Alan pulled away with a peck on her nose that got a groan from the watchers, and then turned to negligently wave at Geoffrey. "And in case someone doesn't know," he said sarcastically, "That's Geoffrey Alfaerus, my uncle. From America. Suffering from Saturday morning syndrome." Alan turned and sniffed disdainfully. "What, I gave you coffee."

"You still woke me too damn early on a Saturday. Are we practicing or not?"

"Yes. We are." Alan turned back to the group and waved at the far end of the Chamber. "Go ahead and get up – warm laps or not – and we'll start practicing at the far end, near that ridiculous statue." Fortunately for the sensibilities of his Slytherin associates, all of them expected Alan to disparage the Chamber of their founder and thus there was only a faint whine from one of Stephanie's friends as they scooted their chairs back and made a quick walk back to the depths, Alan chivvying Geoffrey along behind them.

Geoffrey, despite his complaints, woke up fairly quickly and began to lecture as soon as they were all milling about in the area. "We're going to be going over some very advanced spells – some of you will struggle to cast them, most likely." He nodded at Nanna and Melanie. "But most of you won't. They will all be seventh year spells or higher. Since we're going into a time where, no matter how badly Umbridge wants to claim otherwise, you will be fighting; they will be based in defending yourself, as counterpoint to classic lessons. How many here can cast Porrybaxter's Wall of Wings?" Stephanie, Raina, Jonas, and Neville raised their hands. "How many have attempted it?" Harry, Alan, and all the seventh years added their hands. "How many of you can cast a Patronus?" Harry, Alan, Jonas, Neville, and Victoria raised their hands. "Attempted?" Lucille raised her hand alone. "Now, I trust we're all not going to be naming names or anything?"

"If anyone here talks and gets us in trouble, they'll wish they couldn't talk anymore." Jonas growled.

Geoffrey gave him a firm glare, which just made Jonas smile crookedly, and the rest of the students simply shook their heads rapidly, a few of whom looked at Jonas nervously.

"Okay, Jonas? No more threats. I think we all understand just how bloodthirsty the Hodges are." Jonas' smirk widened, and Geoffrey just rolled his eyes, muttered something along the lines of 'neutral, my ass' and continued. "Since we are all friends, I want an honest estimation: How many here know how to cast and control Fiendfyre? Honestly. We won't be learning it, but we'll be learning about it and how to control it, and stop it. Hands up. I know from Alan most of you."

Neville gave Harry a dirty look as he added his hand to Jonas, Harry and Alan's. Blaise hesitated, but upon seeing Neville's inclusion raised his own. Most of them glanced at Harry and Alan, and finally there were nine hands raised: Harry, Alan, Neville, Jonas, Dillan, Salvador, Theodore, Blaise, and Morgen. Geoffrey cocked his head to the side. "Does anyone know it and not know how to control it?" Everyone without raised hands shook their heads. Ginny, Nanna, and Melanie were staring at Harry and Neville in surprise. Neville wouldn't look at his sister as he put his hand down.

Geoffrey nodded slowly. "Well, that was a few unexpected names." Neville glared at him, but Geoffrey just grinned unrepentantly. "We'll be going over how to cancel out Fiendfyre from an opposing point of view only, and then we'll review the improvisation we went over before Christmas."

Jonas abruptly raised his hand with an impatient look. Geoffrey eyed him a moment before nodding.

"Will you cover any offensive spells, Professor Alfaerus?" He put a mocking twist on the name; Harry would have to ask Alan just what on earth was between the two of them that they were so hostile. Geoffrey simply ignored the sarcasm and shrugged.

"I don't think most of you need any such training, but if you would like to suggest something, be my guest. Keep in mind we have a few young women here," He nodded to Nanna and Melanie, "and we are going over some of this in class, with that project to perfect a spell."

Jonas snorted, and then stepped to the side, out of the group. He raised his arm, wand in hand, and then lashed it down. A long tongue of flame arced out, slapping against the floor and splattering, going out save for a glowing tip on his wand. Jonas lashed it again, curling the flame in a spin, a whip of fire. Alan made a small noise of recognition, and Jonas let the whip go, his wand darkening once more.

Geoffrey looked over the students and asked, "Does anyone else know that spell?"

Alan's hand went up immediately, followed by Dillan, Theodore, and Raina. Geoffrey nodded.

"Alright, we'll go over that if we have time as well. First, though, I think most of you should have an introduction into casting the Patronus. Casting a Patronus usually takes quite a bit of work. Does anyone have a concise explanation of the spell?"

Lucille and Victoria both shot their hands into the air. Geoffrey looked them over and then gave Neville a wry smile. "Mr. Longbottom?" He asked, patiently. He'd made a habit of forcibly calling on Neville during class when he knew Neville had an answer and was just not placing himself forward anymore.

Neville blinked as the only sign of surprise, and sighed. "The Patronus is a conjuration of positive feelings and good memories to drive off a dementor and it's effects."

Geoffrey nodded. "Well said. The incantation is Expecto Patronum; the effect is usually a white or silvery mist. A particularly strong casting creates a corporeal form, which is related to the memory you chose and your focus, not your actual strength." Geoffrey gave a bit of a foolish smile. "My wife, while a fairly weak witch, can easily conjure a Patronus. Took her less time to learn it than I did. Some of you, however, will not be able to. That's fine. Take time to practice and good luck. It's very different conjuring a Patronus in a controlled environment, and conjuring one when faced with a dementor. Can I have a demonstration?"

"What," Alan jibed, "don't want to show off your Border collie?"

Geoffrey flipped Alan off, and then gently waved his wand to the side. A brilliant mist shot out, and quickly formed a shaggy, thin-limbed dog that darted over and around the students, coming out and then barking silently at them before looking back between the kids and Geoffrey and then fading from view.

Harry smiled warmly, and then intoned, "Expecto Patronum!" His memory was the one he'd used for years, which had surprised him when it worked: it was his mother hugging him after his first attempt on a broom, and several other interactions. As he thought, he added on this Christmas, when Lily had walked into the library and found Harry and Alan debating over a book on the table. Harry had awkwardly waved at her, and then felt deliriously happy when she just smiled warmly and waved back, walking on down the stairs. Out of his wand came a heavyset tiger, landing nimbly, and crouching, looking around at the gathered students, and then turning to Harry, walking back and rubbing it's insubstantial self against his legs for a few minutes.

His tiger didn't gone away immediately, and Harry looked up to find Alan had already conjured his fox. A bright light came from over his head, and Harry looked up and gaped as a huge turtle swam over him through the air. A faint pressure came against his legs and Harry looked down to see a smaller puma approaching his tiger with a curious tilt to its head. Looking up, Harry found Jonas watching him; the puma turned tail and darted back over to circle his legs, so Harry presumed the Patronus was his. Geoffrey whistled abruptly, and Harry's tiger disappeared; the room darkened as the rest followed suit, and Geoffrey quickly smiled.

"Alright, ready to try it out?"

A/N: Next chapter, you lovely people! All nice and polite and kind and sweet and calm and collected. Keep your shorts on and don't worry, the roller coaster will go on through the twists and turns soon enough. I'm sure you all know when that will happen ... Grins evilly Thank you for reading; please review!

Fire & Napalm