A/N: For those of you who've asked/commented on Dumbledore – I hope this chapter gives insight into his motivations. As I've said, Dumbledore is not evil. He's not even manipulative simply for control's sake. I hope that comes across…
A few people have asked about Alastor. HP Lexicon puts his age as "older", possibly the same age as Arthur Weasley, who was born c. 1950. I always got the impression he was a bit older than that, perhaps a contemporary of Tom Riddle and his original clique. So c. 1930, or 67 in 1997. I've made him older still in this fic – old enough to participate in WWII. (I needed him to see hell thrice, after all.) So…consider him born c. 1920 – or being 77 in this fic, give or take.
Current number of chapters is sitting at 33, though I'm considering separating one into two… Good news on the last chapter – I got a third of it done yesterday! Yes! Can anyone tell me why inspiration likes to strike at such inconvenient times? Honestly, staying up to 2:00 in the morning typing is not conducive to a happy morning. But – I got a third done! Yay!
Chapter 19 – March & Rookwood
The Quibbler, Special Addition to March Edition, Monday, March 17, 1997
Current Count of Suitors: 214
Excerpt from An Introduction to Veela, Chapter 11 - Myths, Legends, & Spiritual Belief Systems
--March 11--
Harry waited patiently with his grandfather in the common room of his suite for the arrival of Augustus Rookwood. "A.R." had only just revealed his name the week prior with a letter begging very prettily for the meeting to go forward. And beg he should as Harry was quite sure the man was nearly seventy years old and shouldn't have passed this far into the courtships in the first place. Harry, not to mention his grandfather and the guards, were quite interested in finding out just how Rookwood had bypassed the anti-perjury quill.
Augustus had claimed that he was revealing his identity so as to let Harry have some warning before they met and Harry appreciated the thought. He'd spoken with his grandfather about what to do – should he eliminate the man or not for lying about his age? – but they had decided together that any man so clever as to somehow bypass the quills deserved a fair hearing regardless of his age and had sent a postcard re-confirming the meeting. Besides, the man had begged very prettily and had sent a nice present as well.
The fact that Augustus was a Death Eater was not that important to him. He'd met a few Death Eaters for dates already – Lucius Malfoy had failed five minutes in for magic incompatibility, thank Merlin – but Augustus was the first convicted Death Eater he was meeting privately. He'd given only brief thought to turning in the man but held off for two reasons. One, he wanted to know how the man had bypassed the test. And, two, as he'd told Neville months ago in regards to the married men, he didn't want to eliminate anybody who might simply be trapped in a bond they didn't want. That the bond was to Voldemort instead of a spouse was really immaterial.
Nevertheless, he was a bit bemused by the fact that he was meeting with a convict for a private dinner. Still, if his age was discounted, Augustus Rookwood had passed all the tests so far… A knock sounded on the door to the sitting room and a moment later one of his guards opened the door and entered the room.
"Mr. Rookwood has passed inspection conditionally," the guard reported. "He is not glamoured, spelled, or coated in any potions. He carries no weapons other than his wand. The only other magical items he brought are a portkey – the destination of which is confirmed as the receiving area of the restaurant Cheltenham's – and a smallish sphere. He has declined to tell us the sphere's purpose, claiming that he will speak of it only once meeting you, but my inspection revealed that it is not dangerous in any known way. He claims that the sphere is harmless and has offered to swear a magical vow or sign a magical contract to that effect, if you so desire."
Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise and looked to his grandfather for advice.
Robert frowned in thought for a moment. "If he has offered, it is likely he is willing to comply with any choice we make," he said. "Therefore, the sphere is likely harmless as he claims."
"He could be bluffing," Harry suggested, although he actually agreed with his grandfather's assessment.
"True," Robert acknowledged easily. "But if he is telling the truth, a contract will not harm him."
"Will you please oversee a contract, Antoine?" Harry asked the guard.
The guard nodded his head respectfully and disappeared back out the connecting door. Harry spent the next several minutes contemplating what he'd been told. Rookwood had worked in the Department of Mysteries before his arrest in 1981. Had he pilfered a prophecy sphere? If so, why? And why bring it now? His musings were interrupted when the guard returned and nodded his head.
Harry and Robert followed the guard into the sitting room where Harry stopped abruptly and stared in shock at his date for the evening. "You look quite different than I expected," Harry said finally to the surprisingly handsome man.
Augustus smiled in wry amusement and said, "This is my true appearance. Undoubtedly you were expecting a hunched, scrawny, pockmarked, nasty looking old man instead of a still-mostly-blond-haired, blue-eyed Adonis, hmmm?"
Harry laughed in surprise and walked fully into the room and towards his date. "Yes, I'm afraid so," he said.
"I am pleased to disappoint you," Augustus said with a smile as he bowed then held out his hand.
Harry placed his hand in Augustus' and immediately shuddered. He pulled his hand away quickly, noting absently that the man had released him easily. "As am I. However, I feel I must tell you immediately that I will be dismissing you due to magic incompatibility. It is your choice whether we continue with the plans you've made for this evening."
"I understand," August said with a nod of his head. "I must admit that I was actually surprised that I passed through the first test of magic compatibility. I'm hardly surprised that I failed this time. Your magic has become quite a bit more sensitive, hasn't it?"
"Yes," Harry acknowledged. "Thank you for understanding. You're one of the few that has understood without me having to explain. What would you like to do in regards to our scheduled time together?"
Augustus snorted and shook his head. "Morons," he said. "I must thank you for allowing me to meet you despite my age. I'm sure you considered canceling the date."
"I did," Harry admitted with a small smile. "But I was impressed with your cleverness, not to mention all of us are quite interested in how you bypassed the quill."
Augustus chuckled and said, "I will reveal my secret after we have spoken on the topics I need to discuss with you."
"Need?" Harry asked suspiciously. "And you still have not answered my question."
"I admit to an ulterior motive for being here today and would appreciate if we could continue with our date," Augustus said. "I beg you to hear me out and assure you that what I wish to discuss is not related to your courtships and I accept my dismissal."
"Very well," Harry said, slightly intrigued. A minute later he was slightly irritated as he once more accepted help to rise from the ground, this time from his grandfather as Augustus' touch repulsed him.
Augustus merely smiled at Harry as they walked to the receiving podium. Augustus announced himself to the maître d' and the party was immediately escorted to a private room.
Harry admired the décor of the restaurant as they were led through it. Cheltenham's was certainly an impressive place. Harry paused just outside the door to the private room as one of the guards inspected the room for hostile magic. Once the room was declared clean, he walked to the table and allowed Augustus to seat him. The table was surprisingly clear given what he'd seen so far of the restaurant; he would have expected a fancy layout.
The guards took up positions on either side of the table, one close to Harry and the other guarding over Augustus. His grandfather took the seat that had been set against one of walls; it was out of the way but still near enough to overhear any conversation. Harry watched as Augustus took his own seat then asked curiously, "You're not going to try and recruit me for your master, are you?"
Augustus laughed lightly then smirked and said, "You have no idea who my real master actually is, Mr. Potter. But I can hardly fault you for your question given all the effort that has been put into hiding my true allegiances and circumstances."
Harry cocked his head to the side and obligingly asked, "And what are your true allegiances and circumstances?"
"I am an Unspeakable, Mr. Potter," Augustus said.
"Please call me Harry. And are you implying present tense?" Harry asked.
"Thank you, Harry. And yes, I am," Augustus answered.
"I wouldn't think that you would still be an Unspeakable after your stint in Azkaban," Harry commented mildly.
Augustus smiled slightly and said, "I've not spent any time at all in Azkaban, Harry. I've never even seen the island."
Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "But…"
Augustus held up a hand and said, "Please let me explain."
Harry nodded dumbly.
"Perhaps some tea first," Augustus said and tapped a small off-color square on the tablecloth that Harry hadn't noticed before. Moments later a server arrived, was quickly checked by the guards, and deposited a fancy tea service on the table before disappearing. Augustus wasted no time in serving both of them some tea.
"I am an Unspeakable," Augustus said after taking several sips of his tea, "and have been since the day I graduated from Hogwarts. The head of the Unspeakables at that time came to me over the holidays before my graduation and recruited me with a very specific mission in mind. I was to keep in contact with Tom Riddle… You do know who that is, correct?"
"Voldemort," Harry answered and was surprised when August merely nodded instead of flinching.
"Yes," Augustus said then picked up where he'd left off. "I was to keep in contact with Tom Riddle and report back to the Unspeakables as much as I was able to glean about Tom and his activities. You see, there was a prophecy about him and the Unspeakables wanted to keep a very close watch on the man."
Harry narrowed his eyes at the mention of a prophecy – he was well acquainted with their capacity to destroy lives – but kept his silence.
"When Tom Riddle fully adopted his new moniker, my mission expanded, though it remained basically unchanged: I was to infiltrate the new Dark Lord's ranks and continue reporting back about him and his activities. Another prophecy was spoken and evaluated and it was decided, for reasons I will mention in a bit, that I was to be captured by the Ministry and imprisoned. At least, that is what it would look like to the world at large."
"But that's not what happened," Harry surmised.
"Yes and no," Augustus said. "Karkaroff did indeed betray me – with a bit of magical finagling – and I really was sentenced to Azkaban. I, that is, a Death Eater captured by my fellow Unspeakables and glamoured to look like me, really was taken to Azkaban and left to rot."
"I hope they deserved it," Harry interrupted mildly.
"Oh, they did," Augustus assured. "Connor DeWalt was one of the most sadistic Death Eaters. It was such a shame that the man went missing."
"And where is he now?" Harry asked suspiciously. "He – as you – was broken out of prison last year."
Augustus clucked in unconvincing sorrow. "I'm afraid the man is still missing to this day."
Harry snorted in amusement. Missing. Right. Obviously the Unspeakables had tied up a few loose ends in a more permanent fashion. "I see," he said with just as much mock sorrow.
Augustus smirked and opened his mouth to continue his story when he was interrupted.
"Why wasn't he discovered?" Harry asked. "A glamour doesn't seem a secure way to hide someone's identity, especially when they could just say that they were actually someone else."
"A good question, surely," Augustus said with approval. "The man was spelled silent, much as you have done with your suitors, just more extensively and invasively. And it may or may not be the same spell your guards use, but the Unspeakables also know how to cast an unbreakable glamour."
Harry raised his eyebrows and glanced at his guards for their reactions. They revealed no change in expression, of course. He returned his attention to Augustus. "I see," he said again.
"Shall I continue or do you have more questions," Augustus asked politely.
"Please continue," Harry said and went back to slowly sipping his tea.
Augustus nodded and complied. "Once I was officially tucked away in Azkaban, I was free to roam the country and carry out missions for my true master, if you will."
"What better cover than being incarcerated?" Harry questioned wryly.
"Indeed," Augustus said with a smile.
"So what did you do?" Harry asked curiously, wondering if he would actually get an answer given the secret nature of the Unspeakables.
"I will tell you a little later," Augustus said to Harry's surprise. "First, I'd like to explain a bit more about the Unspeakables."
Harry nodded his interest and absently swirled his tea as he listened.
"First, the Unspeakables have never needed to rely upon the Ministry," Augustus explained. "We are, in fact, a completely financially independent organization. At one time we felt that it would be advantageous to work within the British Ministry and so we made an alliance. When it became apparent that our association would no longer be in the best interests of our goals, we engineered a very public break in the form of my very public capture and imprisonment."
"But why?" Harry asked in confusion. "Why would it be more advantageous for your department to be out of favor? I know that both your funding and your authority were drastically reduced after the first war. After your betrayal."
"My supposed betrayal," Augustus corrected. "Remember, I said we were financially independent. The cut in funding made no difference to us. And the reduction in authority was a blessing. You see, we were no longer called upon to perform many duties for various Ministry departments."
"Leaving more free time to carry out your own missions," Harry said in understanding.
Augustus smiled in approval. "Exactly."
"And those were?" Harry questioned leadingly.
"The Unspeakables' one true goal and specialization is the pursuit and preservation of knowledge," Augustus said. "Our missions were directly related to this goal."
Harry nodded and continued to listen attentively. This story was fascinating.
"As I and several of my brethren were, essentially, invisible, we were the most important members in the pursuit of our goal," Augustus continued. "Our goal, which was made all the more important because we knew that we had a limited time in which to accomplish it. You see, as I mentioned, there was a prophecy."
Harry's face became stone and he said, "If it's the one about me, I've heard it."
"Have you now?" Augustus asked mildly.
"Yes," Harry said shortly.
"Somehow, given what it says and knowing Albus Dumbledore's objective as I do, I find that hard to believe," Augustus said. "Tell me, what does it say about the Squirrel?"
Harry looked blankly at the man and said, "Squirrel? There's no mention of a squirrel."
"Oh, but there is," Augustus denied. "However, it's not until the last stanza."
Harry's face was still blank. Finally, he said emotionlessly, "I see. I don't suppose you would be willing to tell me the entire prophecy as you know it."
In answer, Augustus reached into his pocket and pulled out an orb and set it on the table. "Go ahead. Touch it," he offered.
Harry stared at the orb for nearly a full minute before returning his attention to the man across from him. "I thought it was destroyed," he said.
Augustus laughed with true amusement. "Oh, no. Do you really think we would keep such a valuable collection of prophecies in an area that just anybody could get to? And organized so haphazardly on shelves that weren't even secured? Or even in glass spheres that would break if you accidentally dropped them? No, Harry, that room was simply a decoy and was full of copies only. It was a grand mess you made, most definitely, but nothing was truly lost."
Harry stared at the sphere sitting innocently on the table. He was having a bit of trouble wrapping his mind around what Augustus had just told him. "So. This sphere. It wouldn't break if it fell."
"No, of course not," Augustus said with a snort. "Go ahead. Toss it against the wall."
He wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to. He hated that prophecy with a passion and what it had done to his life. But Harry just couldn't muster the gumption to actually do it. He stared at Augustus wordlessly.
Augustus picked up the sphere and hefted it a bit. "I chose this restaurant for a reason," he said mildly. "It has stone walls." With that statement, Augustus drew back his arm and threw the sphere as hard as he could at the white marble wall.
Harry watched as the sphere hit the wall with a tink, didn't break, rebounded slightly and fell to the carpet, also not breaking, and rolled back towards the table. He stared at the sphere that had stopped just three feet away from him. A moment later Augustus rose, retrieved the sphere, and sat back down.
"Would you like to hear it?" Augustus asked softly.
Harry nodded, still too dumbfounded to speak.
Augustus nodded and placed the sphere in the middle of the table. A moment later he pulled his wand and swished it over the sphere as he intoned the spell prodeo. Unlike in the Department of Mysteries when the prophecy sphere had been broken, this sphere projected a full-color, three-dimensional image of Trelawney in all her gaudily-dressed glory. Both watched as Trelawney's eyes rolled to the back of her head and she opened her mouth.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…
Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…
And the Dark Lord will mark him as equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…
And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…"
"The one with the power to revive the Dark Lord approaches…
Raised by those who have thrice denied him, raised by family untrue…
And he shall gain the knowledge of his ancestors and turn his allegiance to the Hawks…
And the Kingdom shall fall to ruin, for a new age cannot dawn upon the old…
The one with the power to revive the Dark Lord approaches…"
"The one who shall bear the new King approaches…
Birthing the seventh son and single scion, birthing the King of Avalon…
And he shall raise the King in another land and under the aegis of the Hawks…
And the King shall come when the last hope is lost, and the people shall give him their fealty…
The one who shall bear the new King approaches…"
"And Magic shall provide counselors three…
The Tiger who holds the crown…
The Wolf who shall give a daughter as wife…
The Squirrel who shall reveal ten thousand secrets…
And a new era shall dawn upon the lands…"
Trelawney slumped in her chair and the image abruptly disappeared. Harry remained silent as Augustus reached into his pocket again, this time to pull out a small scroll that he pushed across the table.
Harry slowly picked up the scroll, removed the ribbon and unrolled it. He read the contents through three times before rolling the scroll back up and replacing the ribbon. He stared at the scroll for several moments before handing it to Antoine. "Please give this to my chaperone." Better to let his grandfather hold onto the transcription than risking it at Hogwarts.
As Antoine passed the scroll along, Harry looked back over at Augustus.
"How much did you already know?" Augustus asked curiously.
"Only the first stanza," Harry replied, still somewhat in shock.
Augustus nodded. "Yes, that makes sense given Dumbledore's agenda."
"Which is?" Harry asked pointedly.
"He is trying to break the prophecy," Augustus supplied. "You can hardly blame the man, really. Who wouldn't want to avert Armageddon if they could?"
"Can that be done? Is that possible?" Harry asked in surprise.
"That's up for debate," Augustus replied. "Some people claim that prophecies can be broken and use as their evidence all the prophecies that are apparently unfulfilled. Some people say that breaking a prophecy is impossible and that all prophecies are fulfilled, even if nobody is aware of how or when."
"Which side of the argument do you favor?" Harry asked.
"That prophecies cannot be broken," Augustus answered seriously.
"And the remainder of your brethren?" Harry asked curiously.
"It's actually a nearly even split," Augustus answered with a bit of amusement. "We have quite the debates about it sometimes. However, everyone does agree that if part of a prophecy has come true then the remainder of it will eventually come to pass."
"Obviously Dumbledore doesn't see things that way," Harry said.
"No, he doesn't," Augustus agreed. "He is, presumably, working from the idea that each stanza is complete in and of itself."
"And what do the Unspeakables believe about this one?" Harry asked, flicking a finger towards the prophecy sphere still on the table.
"We believe that the first stanza has already come to pass, the second stanza is in the process of coming to pass, the third stanza has yet to come to pass, and the fourth stanza is, partly, our responsibility to make come to pass," Augustus answered solemnly.
"But what about the whole vanquish the Dark Lord thing?" Harry asked, equally solemn. "The whole neither can live while the other survives."
"What do you think?" Augustus asked, staring at Harry intently.
Harry leaned back in his seat and said, "I believe it has already come to pass. After all, vanquish does not mean defeat forever, and it can be easily argued that causing the Dark Lord to be missing for thirteen-plus years easily counts as vanquished. And that he didn't live while I survived."
"That is the common belief among the Unspeakables," Augustus agreed with a nod. "What do you make of the second stanza?"
"I think it's actually rather straightforward," Harry said blandly. "It was my blood that revived Voldemort. The Dursleys are easily viewed as family untrue. I've learned about my Veela heritage and have embraced it. And Britain is going to go to Hell."
"Succinct," Augustus said wryly. "However, that is what we think as well. We have made the presumption that once you have a mate that you intend to leave the Isles and live with the Veela nation."
"I will leave the Isles," Harry said, the first time he had verbally acknowledged that fact to any but his grandfather. "I might not live within the Veela nation, but I will definitely be visiting it a lot."
Augustus nodded in understanding. "It seems clear that the Dark Lord will, if not completely gain supremacy, at least destroy Britain as we know it in the attempt. The only thing that we are uncertain of is the meaning of the line "raised by those who've thrice denied him.""
Harry shrugged and said, "That could mean any number of things. The Dursleys didn't physically abuse me, or sexually, but they did abuse me verbally, emotionally and financially, so you could look at it that way. Or you could say that it's because of how they tried to deny me my heritage by lying to me about how my parents died, refusing to tell me I was a wizard, and trying to keep me from going to Hogwarts. Or you could look at it even more simply than that: there were three of them and they all denied me a place in their family. I don't think it really matters which interpretation you take."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Augustus said sincerely.
"I'm surprised you didn't already know, what with all the articles published by the Prophet," Harry said bitterly.
"As a whole, the Unspeakables take the entire Daily Prophet with a pound of salt," Augustus said ruefully.
Harry gave a quick grin, but became serious again and asked, "What about the third stanza."
"We think it's actually rather straightforward," Augustus said, borrowing Harry's earlier words. "You shall bear the future King. The King will be your seventh son, a human, and the only heir to the Potter line. You'll raise him with the Veela and he shall only come to our rescue when it appears all hope is lost."
"And stanza four?" Harry asked intently.
"Some of it we have deciphered," Augustus admitted. "The last line, the dawn of a new era, is self-explanatory, as is that Magic will provide three counselors. We have no idea of the identity of the Tiger who holds the crown." He looked at Harry questioningly.
Harry shook his head. He didn't have any idea either.
"We also don't know who the Wolf's daughter is," Augustus said.
"Remus Lupin's child, perhaps," Harry suggested. "He's the only wolf I know about that's close to me in some way."
"No," Augustus shook his head. "Werewolves are sterile, always."
"Adopted daughter, maybe?" Harry said with a shrug.
Augustus shrugged as well. "Maybe. Or maybe we'll just have to wait and see."
"And the Squirrel?" Harry asked.
"We know who it is," Augustus said, looking at Harry with a strange expression. "It is, in fact, the second reason why the Unspeakables have wanted to meet with you."
Harry blinked in confusion. "What's the first reason?" he asked.
"To inform you that you will bear the new King," Augustus said gently. "To advise you to choose your mate well. Not that you won't," he added quickly. "Just that you need to be aware that you, and your future son, would be best served by choosing a mate who understands that they will be raising the future monarch of magical Britain. Somehow, I don't think that that was in your initial list of requirements."
Harry snorted in amusement and nodded his acknowledgment. "And the second reason? The Squirrel?"
"We need your help to be the go-between between us and the Squirrel," Augustus said intently. "Without a go-between, it will take too much time to convince the Squirrel that we are sincere. Time that we don't have…"
--HPDM--
"So let me get this straight," Neville said, rubbing a hand over his face. "There are a total of one hundred Unspeakables at any given time."
"Right," Harry confirmed.
"And they, as a whole, wanted to speak to you about this prophecy and so they, as a whole, entered the courtships," Neville continued.
"Right," Harry said again.
"And they could because they have some spiffy little spell that fools magic devices about their age and gender," Neville said as he stared at Harry in disbelief.
"Exactly," Harry said.
"And they didn't just make an appointment because?" Neville asked sarcastically.
"Don't know," Harry admitted with a rueful shrug. "Didn't think to ask, actually."
"Right," Neville said tonelessly. "So as of this morning there were thirty-seven still in the running but now they're all going to withdraw because you've talked to one of them. The one who hasn't really been an evil, rotten, Death Eater stuck in Azkaban all this time."
"Yes," Harry said, nodding enthusiastically. "It's great news! I'll be finished with the dates a full three weeks earlier!"
"Right," Neville said, shaking his head slightly. "Congratulations. And all you have to do in return is convince Hermione I-hate-divination Granger that she's this…Squirrel person from some prophecy."
Harry bit his lip lightly. "Well, when you put it that way…"
"But you have to wait for the right time," Neville continued relentlessly. "Only you don't know when that is because they don't know when that is so couldn't tell you. You'll just have to figure it out on your own."
"It's when she assumes authority. And it's supposed to be obvious to me as the go-between," Harry protested a bit weakly.
"Sure it is," Neville said in disbelief. "Because everything having to do with divination is always so obvious."
Harry scowled. "You're supposed to be happy for me," he said. "And supportive."
"Oh, I am," Neville assured, still blinking in shock. "I am happy for you. Thirty-seven suitors gone in one day. Three extra weeks. It's fantastic. Really. I'm very happy for you. And of course I'll support you. But this prophecy… You'll forgive me if I'm a bit stunned that Hermione I'd-rather-stick-my-nose-in-a-book is going to end up being, well, you know…"
"Well, it makes sense the way he explained it," Harry said defensively. "Don't you think?"
"Sure. Of course," Neville agreed blandly. "And I'm fine with the King idea, but there's the whole coming of the apocalypse thing that's got me a bit rattled."
"Surely you realized?" Harry asked seriously. "I thought you understood what would be coming."
"I did, I think," Neville said reluctantly. "It's just that I've been keeping that particular awareness buried as deep as possible. Putting my head in the sand, so to speak."
"You shouldn't do that," Harry said gravely. "You should be taking this time to prepare as much as you can before things really go to Hell."
"Like the Unspeakables," Neville said wearily.
"Yes," Harry agreed with a nod. "I could probably ask them to give you a few pointers," he offered.
Neville laughed bitterly. "I don't need them," he said. "Leave Britain is all I really need to know."
"Where will you go?" Harry asked worriedly.
"I don't know," Neville admitted with a sigh. "Where are you going to go?"
"I don't know," Harry said as well. "Either to France or the home country of my mate."
"Then that's where I'll go," Neville said decisively. "That way we can still see each other often."
Harry smiled in both pleasure and sadness. "I'd like that."
"So," Neville said, perking up slightly in false cheer. "Is there anything we can talk about that doesn't involve mass murder and wanton destruction?"
"Hermione's supposed to help the wanton destruction bit," Harry reminded his friend.
"Sure," Neville said, nodding. "Ten thousand secrets. It's perfect for her. She'll be great at it. So, anything?"
"Well, I've been thinking of starting a petition against Colin Creevey," Harry volunteered.
"Really?" Neville asked in surprise, his agitation completely derailed.
"Yes. I'm tired of him constantly invading my privacy and taking pictures of me," Harry said firmly. "I mean, taking the occasional picture of your classmates to keep as a reminder of your school days is one thing – practically everyone does that – but this constant barrage is something completely different."
"Oh, I agree," Neville said fervently. "He's been after me a lot now, too, ever since the Hufflepuff incident."
"Brat," Harry said, scowling in remembrance of the little Hufflepuff.
"So, this petition," Neville said quickly to distract Harry. "I'd sign it."
"I bet half of Gryffindor would sign it," Harry said with a disgusted snort. "I know there're a lot of people he's been annoying lately. And I'm afraid to even take a piss without checking to see if he's around just waiting for that one intimate shot."
"So have you drawn it up yet?" Neville asked.
Harry shook his head.
"Well, let's get to it," Neville said eagerly. "I bet Hermione would help us."
"I bet she'd take us to the library," Harry said wryly.
"Good idea!" Neville said brightly. "Let's go!"
Harry laughed in surprise and followed his friend out of the dorm to find their resident bookworm. Putting off apocalyptic preparations for one more night wouldn't hurt anything.
--end chapter--
prodeo, prodire, prodivi(ii), proditus V INTRANS 6 1 INTRANS XXXAO -go/come forth/out, advance; appear; sprout/spring up; issue/extend/project;