HARRY POTTER AND THE UNFORGIVEN
A Sixth Year Harry Potter Fanfiction
BY
Jayiin Mistaya
"Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus."
...never tickle a sleeping dragon
COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter. Those rights are held, exclusively, by JK Rowling, and any other entities, corporations, subsidiaries, or groups not named here possessing legal rights to the aforementioned books and/or trademark.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: More information on Harry Potter and the Unforgiven can be found at my website, which is linked in my Author Profile.
Feedback of any kind is always appreciated.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS: Thanks to Elusive Evan for making me continue to post this.
CHAPTER TWO
Reparations and Retribution
Harry stared into the beady eyes of Dolores Jane Umbridge.
"What are you doing here?" He practically spat the words at her.
She just kept smiling. "Now, now, Mister Potter, no need to be rude. Please, have a seat. Mouth closed, ears open. I'd hate to have to impress another lesson upon you."
Harry open and closed his right hand, feeling the new dragonhide scrape across the scar.
"I'll stand, thank you."
Dolores shook her head reproachfully. "So rude, Mister Potter. So rude. Albus would be ashamed at your manners. And I'm sure you don't want to be so rude in front of your Aunt and Uncle."
Harry just glared at her. "Why are you here? What did Fudge send you here for?"
Dolores held up her hand. "Minister Fudge, Harry. Now please, sit." Her voice took on a harder edge.
Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "I said I'll stand."
Vernon rose to his feet and crossed the space between him and Harry in two steps, using his momentum to shove Harry to the ground. He stood over his nephew, his great chest heaving, all but frothing at the mouth.
"Sit, boy! Don't you dare think of getting up until she's done. She's here because of you, boy. You'll do as she says until I say otherwise."
Vernon and Harry locked eyes. Harry broke away first, glancing over Vernon's shoulder at Umbridge. Vernon jumped, whirling around to stare at Umbridge, tensed, waiting for her to strike him down for attacking Harry Potter.
Dolores Umbridge giggled, looking positively gleeful. "Oh, neatly done, Mister Dursley, neatly done! You handle him quite well, if I do say so myself. I've often said it's high time the lad get a taste of solid discipline."
Vernon and Petunia were rendered speechless. Usually, they encountered wizards intent on protecting Harry from them. While their attention was elsewhere, Harry levered himself up, sitting cross-legged on the floor.
"Now then, I think it's only fair if I introduce myself." Umbridge settled herself more comfortably in her chair, and pulled a sheaf of envelopes out of her purse before setting it beside her. "My name is Dolores Umbridge. I am the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, Mr Cornelius Fudge, and I am the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where your nephew, Harry James Potter, attends under Headmaster Albus Dumbledore."
Vernon and Petunia flinched at each title and name, but were too shocked to speak.
Dolores leaned forward. "I am here to convey to you Minister Fudge's deepest apologies."
Harry felt his stomach sink as Umbridge turned to stare at him, her beady eyes hard and cold.
He could hear Petunia demurring. "Apologies? But why would you or your, er, Ministry need to apologize?"
"Quite simple, really." Harry was shocked as Dolores Umbridge managed to look almost contrite, keeping her eyes on Harry. "Your unfortunate situation is entirely our fault. The Ministry of Magic and the wizarding community, that is."
"Ahh...your fault?" Petunia asked, dabbing at her forehead with a soft cloth.
"Most assuredly, Mrs. Dursley. But this kind of uncomfortable business always gives one a sour stomach, and I'm sure we could all do with a spot of tea. Now, I'm sure Harry would be perfectly happy to fetch us tea, wouldn't you, Harry?"
Harry stood, trying not to sound sullen. "Of course, Professor."
It galled him to call her 'professor', but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of using any other title. If I can call Snape 'professor,' I can call her 'professor.'
Her smile followed him as he walked into the kitchen and put water on to boil. While it heated, he got out Petunia's best tea service, and started looking for scones or biscuits or something to serve with it.
Wishing for one of the twins' Extendable Ears, he strained to hear Umbridge as she explained.
"You are not members of the Wizarding community and you have not only been forced to care for one of our children, but you have been repeatedly threatened or had your life disrupted by other members of our community."
Umbridge sighed, and Harry knew she was shaking her head. "None of which should have ever happened. Harry could have been easily placed with an appropriate wizarding family – and to interfere with anyone outside of our community violates a tradition stronger than law."
Harry could almost hear Uncle Vernon puffing himself up. "Now listen here!" The teenager had to admit he was a little impressed Uncle Vernon dared to roar at an adult witch like that. "We took the boy in and treated him as if he were our own flesh and blood! And did we complain? Not once! We haven't asked for a ruddy penny for the clothes we put on his back or the food he eats from our table!"
Harry nearly dropped the tin of Aunt Petunia's good chocolate biscuits. He felt something quivering in his chest, pushing him past some edge he hadn't realized he was standing on.
"That's a bloody lie!" Harry yelled, storming back into the room. "You've never given me a bloody thing but Dudley's castoffs and whatever scraps you could get by with!"
"Silencio!" Umbridge slashed her wand through the air, stealing Harry's voice. The Dursleys managed to look frightened, amused and smug at the same time. "You really never learn, do you, Mr Potter? I have no reason to trust you and every reason to trust your Aunt and Uncle. Now, be a dear and fetch the tea."
Harry stared at her in shock, his anger slowly be replaced by fear. Umbridge had provoked him again just to show him who had the power – and that she wasn't afraid to use it. He slowly turned back around and went back into the kitchen.
I can't let her provoke me again. There's no telling what she'll do.
In the silence that followed, he heard Dolores fiddle with the heavy parchment envelopes in her lap. "Like I said, just a bit of firm discipline. I know good and well you never complained, Mr Dursley. And such generosity is a sign of what kind of household Harry has grown up in. If anything, Mr Dursley, I'm afraid the boy is a bit spoiled. Which is perfectly understandable! It's only natural to want to give more to a child who was born with so little!"
Trembling with rage, Harry poured the boiling water into the teapot. How dare they...?
Taking deep breaths, Harry picked up the tray.
"Spoiled?" Petunia's voice cracked a bit.
"Yes. Spoiled. I'm afraid it's a bit worse than that, though, Mrs Dursley." Umbridge heaved an exasperated sigh. "He's developed a bit of a pathological need for attention. He can't seem to help but tell the most outrageous lies, even if they are obviously untrue, if they will just get him a bit of that attention."
As Umbridge shook her head and tsked under breath, Harry carried the tea service into the parlor. Harry's stomach twisted as Vernon glared at him and mouthed: 'We'll talk about this later, boy.'
"Here now, just give that here, Harry." Petunia moved to take the tea service from her nephew, but Dolores waved her back.
"Sit down, Petunia, please! A woman in your condition shouldn't have to deal with both the stress of an ill-behaved a child and seeing to your guests. I'm just sure Harry would be delighted to serve us, now wouldn't you, Harry?"
Gritting his teeth, Harry said nothing. Not that he could have spoken, with Umbridge's spell on him. What bloody condition does she have, other than an overdeveloped sense of her own importance?
Umbridge was talking to Petunia as if they were old and dear friends. "Speaking of all that, dear, when are you due?"
Petunia immediately brightened, and answered in a near-ecstatic tone of voice Harry had never heard from her before. "November twenty-first is what the doctor tells me. But Dudley was a bit early, and I'm told if one is early, the others generally are too."
Harry nearly dropped the tea service. Aunt Petunia...pregnant?! Shaking off his astonishment, he poured tea for his aunt first, Vernon, and finally Umbridge, conveniently 'forgetting' a guest was always served first.
No one commented, but Petunia did shoot him a sharp glance.
How did Umbridge know that?
Vernon, if possible, puffed himself up even more. "It's really the perfect time to have a second child, what with Dudley only going to Smeltings for another year. My boy is taking his last year off to compete, you see. He starts his serious training this summer, and will work part time at Grunnings in his off-season. He's a boxer, you know, and he's going to be a champion!"
Dolores shook her head in amazement. "You've done so well with your Dudley! How you could turn out such a fine son while raising a second child who came from an already dysfunctional family, I just don't know. How are you going to manage a third?"
Harry was reeling. His aunt was Pregnant and Dudley was going to start training seriously as a boxer instead of going to Smeltings?
Well, at least that makes sense. What else could the fat ape really do with his life? Not that I've got all that many more options.
Vernon scoffed. "My cousin Veronica has moved in with us. She's the former Governess to the Countess Elemindreda's four girls and will be taking up a teaching position at a parochial school next term, but only part time."
Dolores smiled, and it almost looked genuine as she handed Vernon one of the envelopes. "None the less, the Minister hopes this will help with some of your expenses, remodeling or paying for your son's training."
Vernon practically snatched the envelope out of her hands, and tore it open right there. He looked between the check and Umbridge several times before handing it to Petunia. His face looked like he couldn't decide to be gleeful or suspicious, and made him look like a man trying not to giggle like a schoolgirl.
Petunia laughed nervously, swatting at Vernon's hands until he put the check down. "It is certainly generous..."
"Nothing more than you deserve, I'm sure." Dolores said, waving at hand at Petunia's protest. "Now, on to less pleasant matters."
Vernon tried his best to look stern and attentive. "The boy?"
Harry's skin crawled, and he suddenly understood what was going on here. The Ministry just bribed the Dursleys into doing what Fudge wants.
Dolores nodded. "Yes. 'The boy', as you so eloquently put it. Some rather misguided people from our community have taken a rather special and unwarranted interest in him, and from what I hear, threatened you. Part of why I am here is to assure you the Ministry will deal with this self-styled 'Order of the Phoenix'."
Her voice was grim and sharp, and Harry shrank back, sitting against the far wall. Petunia met his eyes and smiled knowingly. Vernon looked positively gleeful.
Umbridge turned to look at Harry, once again staring right at him, making sure he paid attention. "You see, a civic-minded individual from this so-called 'Order of the Phoenix' has given us some much-needed information. Despite the Ministry's best efforts, the boy has been involved in things he has no business being involved in."
Harry froze. Someone from the Order talked to the Ministry? He remembered Umbridge's interrogations all too well, though. Veritaserum and almost the Cruciatus Curse. Maybe they didn't have a choice.
"This new information has given the Ministry what it needs to keep Mr Potter safely out of events he has no business being involved in." She turned away from Harry to smile at Vernon. "But Mr Dursley, the Ministry finds it must impose upon you for one small thing."
Vernon looked at the envelope Petunia was holding. "We'd be happy to help, of course." He sneered. "Anything to keep the dear boy safe."
Umbridge nodded. "Thank you Mr Dursley. All we ask is you and your wife keep the boy out of the way. Do whatever you need to do to reign in his tendency to be where he shouldn't and involve himself in things he should not be involved in. Perhaps even teach him to keep silent instead of speaking, especially when he knows he would be telling a lie."
She smiled directly at Harry as she said the last.
"Mr Dursley," Umbridge turned her eyes back to Vernon. "He must not have contact with the wizarding world this summer. None at all." Her voice fell to a whisper. "Nothing else matters, Vernon. Nothing you have to do to ensure this will matter. It is imperative that Harry Potter spends the summer without any contact with or from our world. He must be isolated. Knowing what a...difficult...child he can be, no one from the Ministry will look askance at anything you do to maintain control of the situation. If you do this for us, Mr Dursley, the Ministry will be very, very grateful to you."
She handed Vernon a second envelope. Vernon didn't open this one. He tucked it into his suit jacket with a quiet nod, but there was a disturbing anticipation in his eyes.
"Oh, I'm sure we can help. Just positive it won't be a problem."
Dolores smiled. "I'm pleased to hear that, Mr Dursley. Very pleased."
She walked over to Harry and dropped the last envelope in his lap. "Open it, Mr Potter."
Harry felt a moment's hot resentment, but he held his tongue and opened the letter.
It was in dark blue ink, elegant handwriting scrawled across the heavy, expensive parchment used by the Ministry.
An Official Decree of the Ministry Of Magic of the United Kingdom
In this, a time of impending war against the Dark Forces, Cornelius Fudge, elected Minister of Magic, does by executive writ hereby declare by illegal all Associations, Orders, Lodges, Fraternities, Sororities, and other organizations of Wizards and/or Witches not officially sanctioned by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement of the Ministry of Magic.
By My Hand and Seal
Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic
Numbly, Harry looked up at Umbridge. She smiled down at him, knowing he understood what it meant.
They did it. The broke the Order.
She knelt beside him, her hot breath condensing on his cheek as she whispered. Her fingers rested on the dragonhide covered scar.
"All you had to do was keep your mouth shut. Play by the rules. But you couldn't, could you? Now you understand. You should never have challenged the Ministry, Mr Potter."
- 0 -
The door closed behind Umbridge.
Harry distantly heard the sharp crack! as Umbridge apparated away, and felt her silencing spell lift as she vanished.
Vernon turned away from the door, looking up at the ceiling, and bellowed: "Dudley! Downstairs, now!"
Dudley came down the stairs, his heavy tread shaking the staircase. Uncle Vernon loomed over Harry, glaring down at his nephew as if daring Harry to speak. The Boy Who Lived said nothing.
Harry wanted to laugh; he could taste the hysteria, a sublime madness pushing at the back of his throat.
How is this any different? The Order didn't come when I was a child. They left me rot. Why wouldn't they do it again? How is this any different?
Sirius would have come. Sirius would have come, if he had known the danger Harry was now in. Sirius would have come and stayed with Harry at Number Four, Privet Drive, until Dumbledore's blood magics once again protected him from Lord Voldemort.
But they don't protect me, do they? He still finds ways to get at me, to hurt me.
Sirius Black was dead. The Order of the Phoenix was broken. His friends would never know what was happening.
Gleefully, Vernon put an arm around Dudley's shoulders. "Well, Dudders, it looks like we were right about the boy after all! A good for nothing liar no one wants!"
Laughing, Vernon sneered at Harry. "I told you, boy, that this summer is going to be different, didn't I?" Without giving Harry a chance to answer, Vernon pushed Dudley towards his cousin, roaring at Harry. "You earn your keep this time! Dudley's been accepted to a prestigious training program for future champions. And you, boy, will go with him every morning." He jabbed a finger towards Harry, practically panting for air as he yelled. "You will fetch his towels, his water. You will mop his brow and do his laundry and be glad of the opportunity!"
Harry struggled to his feet as Dudley stared at his father in shock.
"But...no! He can't come with me! He'll ruin it! I won't be able to train with him watching me!"
Vernon spat his next words. "He'd better not keep you from training! I won't have him here, Dudley! Your mother is pregnant, and I won't have him getting her so much as a glass of water! I will not allow his...freakishness to taint our child! We kept it from infecting you, and by god I won't let him do it to the baby!"
Vernon's face was dark red with fury, his body trembling as he jabbed his finger into Harry's chest.
"Do you hear me, boy? Don't go near your aunt, not for anything! Your Ministry wrote me boy, told me she was coming for you! They'll keep those freaks away from us, boy. They aren't coming for you. You're mine this summer. You get me, boy?"
Harry's voice was calm even as his throat bubbled with something between a laugh and a sob.
"I understand, Uncle Vernon."
- 0 -
It was pitch black inside the cupboard under the stairs.
Harry could hear Hedwig sleeping quietly. His eyes stared into the darkness.
He was alone. Ron and Hermione had proven last summer they wouldn't come for him if Dumbledore told them not to. The Order no longer existed.
Behind closed eyes, images – memories – he had fought long and hard to push into tiny compartments in his mind flashed through his thoughts like a grade-school filmstrip. Snape's Occlumency lessons had broken down the walls between thought and memory, and now he was drowning in what he had so desperately wanted to forget.
Harry swore he heard Snape's voice, harsh, sneering the curse as if the Potions Master had become his own private Dementor.
"Legilimens!"
... Sirius taunting Bellatrix; his grinning face framed by dark hair, something fierce, unnamable in his eyes. "Is that all you've got?"
...Sirius, falling through the Veil. Ron, screaming as the brain attacked him.
...Hermione, falling under Dohlov's curse.
...Ginny, limping under his arm, her face a mask of determination, biting her lip in concentration, red hair raining down around her face in a cascade of brilliant copper. She and she alone had known what he had really come to seek – but neither had said a word...
...Neville, standing beside Harry to the last, refusing to fall, then writhing under the Cruciatus Curse...
Harry shook his head, trying to clear his mind, to stop remembering; instead, he remembered Dumbledore's dynamic, dramatic duel with the Dark Lord. Whips of fire and shining silver shields burned into his mind's eye.
I need to learn. To fight like that, to fight him like that.
He heard a soft rapping at the door.
The slit his Uncle had installed years ago to watch and berate him through opened, and he met his Aunt's eyes. For the first time, he noticed how similar they were to his mother's, only bright gray instead of bright green. The cheekbones were the same; Petunia's forehead was different.
He suddenly knew Petunia hated Lily Potter the same way Snape hated James – jealousy and rivalry gone too far. Had his mother done to Petunia what James and Sirius had done to Snape? Did his mother – hence, him – deserve her hate?
He thought of another pair of gray eyes and blond hair. Am I the same, because of what I do to Draco Malfoy?
For the first time the thought he might be like his father chilled him.
"I won't let you or those people ruin this for Dudley. He's not been the same since last summer. Write them and make them stay away, or by whatever you hold dear, boy, you will pay."
The slit slammed shut.
Harry calmly screwed in the single light bulb – the cupboard's only illumination – into its socket and watched it flicker to life; he opened his trunk and pulled out parchment, quill, and his favorite emerald ink.
At first, he wasn't sure what to write, or who to write to. He didn't have the words.
But he wrote anyway. First to the order; just a few words.
I'm here. I'm alive. They're feeding me and leaving me be.
That was a lie. Before, it had always been a half-truth, but this time, it was a lie. He could almost feel the pain of Umbridge's blood-quill searing his hand as he wrote the words.
I must not tell lies.
He gripped his quill tighter, feeling the scar under the dragonhide glove.
He scratched out the words he had written and started again.
I'm here. I'm alive. They might even feed me. Professor Umbridge came today. She showed me Fudge's announcement disbanding the Order. She gave the Dursleys money to keep me from the wizarding world this summer. What does that mean for me, here? My Aunt's pregnant and somehow Umbridge knew it.
Something is different this summer. I might be safe from Voldemort here, but I'm not safe from the Ministry or the Dursleys.
What else to write? What to tell Ron and Hermione? Was there any way to tell them? He felt like they deserved to hear something from him.
He wrote quietly for several minutes. Letters to Ron, Hermione, Luna, Neville, Ginny, and Dumbledore, the rest of the Weasleys, even Snape and the Order of the Phoenix piled up on his cot.
By the time he was done, he realized he could never send most of them. What he had written would not be received well.
He picked up the few he felt he could send and addressed them. Some of the words hurt once they were on paper, made real by being stated, but he knew it was necessary. He would not make the same mistakes again.
Softly stroking Hedwig's silken feathers, he pulled his owl close to his chest, listening to her hoot softly, taking comfort in her presence. A living, breathing reminder of the world he was born to.
He tied the letters to her leg, his voice a bare whisper.
"Don't come back to me here. Come find me when I'm someplace else. You can stay with Ron and Ginny. But don't come back to Privet Drive."
She nipped his hand reproachfully.
"Please, Hedwig." His head fell and his eyes closed. How could he be strong enough to save the entire world when he couldn't look his own pet in her eyes? "Just go. Be safe."
She hooted softly again and Harry smiled. "Good girl."
He slipped out of the closet, long years of practice making his movements soundless. He snuck his way into the kitchen, where his Aunt always had a window open to catch wind of the latest gossip. He saw the dark sky shaded with hints of light from the cloud-obscured moon and realized how late it was. Maybe Uncle Vernon had gone to bed.
Hedwig leapt from his arm into the air. Harry smiled. She was free. It was done; he was alone now.
"Boy! What are you doing out of your cupboard?"
Harry turned to face his Uncle's purple face, something inside him becoming strangely still. He met Vernon's eyes and smiled; something passed between them and Vernon knew as surely as Harry did. There were no watchers. There was no Order of the Phoenix. There was only Harry, and Vernon.
"You sent that bird without telling me?"
Harry nodded. "Yes sir, I did."
Vernon loomed over him. Despite his Uncle's anger, Harry felt the stillness and silence. There was no chaos or confusion in his mind.
He had done what he had to do.
Vernon pulled off his belt with slow deliberation.
"That showed a sad lack of respect, boy."
End Chapter
Revised 8-11-9
