Chapter 19
Deadly Dalliances
In the week following Headmaster Dumbledore's forced resignation, the school had lost the sense of security that had once encompassed it. Perhaps it was merely his imagination. However, to Harry, it felt like the warm and comforting presence that Hogwarts once boasted had evaporated with the headmaster's departure.
A lot had changed in the following days, and it wasn't in a good way. Students no longer loitered in the courtyards or hallways. They hurried from class to class, barely talking, barely looking at anyone else. It was like everyone had become afraid of their own shadows.
As a silver lining, the All-House Common Room had become exceedingly popular. A lot of people spent time there after class, during breaks, or whenever they had some free time. It seemed everyone had come to the conclusion that there was safety in numbers, and it couldn't be more safe than when all four houses congregated in a single place.
On the other hand, because it was so popular, the common room for all houses was often crowded. With so many people gathered there, Harry felt uncomfortable because he couldn't talk about anything serious with his friends.
Which was why they were using the Chamber of Secrets as their new de facto meeting place.
"What do you think of the new headmistress?" asked Blaize. He was sitting on a couch, in front of the coffee table, playing chess against Terry. The look of concentration that he wore, eyes staring at the board without blinking, made him look several years older than his thirteen years of life suggested.
"What do I think?" Terry parroted as he moved a pawn. "I think she's a right hag is what I think."
"Agreed. I don't like her much either." Blaize moved one of his rooks.
Their new headmistress had arrived just yesterday, and Harry already didn't like her. He couldn't place a finger on it, not really, but something about her, a vile aura that seemed to emit from her disgusting pink cardigan, repulsed him. Blaize and Terry seemed to share his opinion.
The day she had arrived at Hogwarts was one that he wished he could erase from his memory:
It was late in the evening. The Great Hall was crowded with students eating dinner. Harry and his friends sat together, along with Astoria, Luna, and Ginny, who seemed to be doing better these days. If nothing else, the redhead smiled a lot more, though she also had a horrible habit of staring blankly at nothing. He'd once caught her gazing at a wall for nearly fifteen minutes. She might have been there longer if he hadn't snapped her out of it.
Conversations were no longer loud but quiet and sparse. Harry believed it was because of the fear permeating the school. Everyone was afraid of what might happen now that Dumbledore was gone.
"Hey, who is that?" asked Astoria as she pointed to someone at the teacher's table.
Harry looked over to see all of the teachers eating with them. That was a rare occurrence. Most teachers took their meals in their rooms after the first day, except for the Heads of Houses, who always ate with the students, and Hagrid, who just loved being around people.
Sitting among the faculty was another person who Harry didn't recognize: a woman with a pudgy face that reminded him of a toad. She wore a disgustingly bright pink cardigan, and she sat with the straight postured bearing of a snooty wannabe noble woman. Combine that with her smile, which reminded him of a combination between a grotesque amphibian and a less playful Cheshire Cat, and he already felt wary of her.
Susan looked at the woman Astoria was pointing to and said, "That's Madam Umbridge. I don't know much about her, but Auntie doesn't like her very much. She likes to complain about her a lot."
"She's the Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic," Daphne added.
"The Undersecretary, huh?" Harry mumbled.
Near the end of dinner, the one that Susan had called Madam Umbridge stood up and waddled to the front. She coughed several times. The sound bounced around the room. It must have been amplified by a sonorus charm.
"Good evening, students," she said in a sickeningly sweet voice. On the other side of the table, Tracey made several gagging noises. Terry snickered beside her. "Before you head off to bed, I would like to introduce myself. I am Madam Umbridge, and I'll be the new Headmistress of Hogwarts. I do so hope that we can all get along."
Her words caused a stir. Harry glanced at Professor McGonagall, whose deep seated frown made him wonder if she disagreed with having this woman as headmistress.
"I wonder why they sent the Undersecretary to become the headmistress," Neville pondered out loud.
"It's probably because the Ministry is in trouble right now," Harry answered. "The Daily Prophet isn't on the Ministry's side. They've been bashed every bit as much as Remus Lupin and Headmaster Dumbledore. The recent article even detailed the Ministry's incompetence in regards to how they let the headmaster run wild at Hogwarts."
Neville's face scrunched up. "So what? The Ministry is trying to save face by sending this woman?"
"More or less." Harry shrugged.
Even though he said that, Harry believed there was another reason why Umbridge had been sent here, though he had no way of confirming this. Either way, it looked like Hogwarts was in for a rough time.
"What do you think about Headmistress Umbridge?" Susan asked Harry.
Shrugging as he flipped a page in his notebook, Harry said, "I'm not sure how I feel about her as the headmistress, since it hasn't even been a day since she arrived, but there's something about her personality that rubs me the wrong way."
When she had introduced herself as the new headmistress, she had spoken in a saccharine sweet tone that had made him want to gag. There was simply no way that tone was the regular tone she spoke with. She must have been hiding something, a sinister secret or agenda, and she was using that tone to try and throw them off guard.
"I've heard about her," Neville said. He was watching the game between Blaize and Terry as he sat on a comfy armchair. "Gran told me that she's a selfish bint who tries to ingratiate herself to Minister Fudge. According to my gran, she's a toadie who likes to lord her power and position over others… what? Why are you all looking at me like that?"
"No reason," Blaize said, still looking at Neville like he'd sprouted two extra heads. "I was just surprised to hear you call someone a selfish bint. That's all."
Neville's face burst into a bright red pigment as he looked down. "T-that's just what my gran called her…"
"I agree with your gran," Tracey said, walking up to them. She'd been practicing her spell casting at several stationary dummies that Harry had set up along the wall furthest from what he'd taken to calling "the lobby". "I don't know anything about that woman, but I can tell that she's bad news."
Harry didn't know much about Madam Umbridge beyond what he'd been told so far. He'd sent a missive to Andromeda, asking her if she knew about the new headmistress, but he had yet to receive a reply. She was probably busy with work.
While he would've loved to stay in the Chamber of Secrets with his friends, they were required to attend their last classes of the day. After classes, they went to dinner with everyone else.
The Ravenclaw table was where they had chosen to sit that day. Their group was surrounded by several ravenclaw students who were speaking in hushed tones, occasionally stopping to glance at them before going back to speaking. With his enhanced hearing, Harry could make out bits of their conversation.
"Have you noticed how Potter and his friends seem to disappear every so often?"
"I have. It's like they just vanish into thin air sometimes."
"David thinks Potter might have been responsible for that attack at Hogsmeade."
"What? No way!"
"Well, I don't know if I believe him… still, Potter is a parselmouth. It would make sense."
Harry stopped listening. He didn't want to hear anymore.
"Oi! Do you jerks have something you'd like to share with us?" Tracey stood up, slammed her hands on the table, and glared the group of claws. When they suddenly grew silent, she scoffed at them. "That's what I thought. If you don't have the guts to say crap like that to someone's face, then you shouldn't be talking! Jerks!"
Tracey sat back down with a huff. Hannah, who sat on the girls left, whistled. "Wow. You really went off on them. Angry much?"
"Don't say that like you didn't want to do the same thing. I don't like idiots who say crap without knowing the facts."
"Kinda like how you talk about Quidditch without knowing the facts?" asked Terry.
"Can it, Boot!"
"Do you think most of the students feel the same way?" asked Susan.
"Doubtful," Daphne said as she calmly ate her food. She seemed to have disregarded the meat and was going straight for the potatoes. "There are over one-hundred students at this school. It's impossible that all of them feel the same way, and I'm sure some of them remember what happened last year." A frown creased her lips. "Saying that, I'm sure there are just as many people who believe that Harry was responsible for that attack as there are people who don't. Idiots will believe anything, after all."
"That was quite the speech, Daph," Tracey teased.
"Coming from the girl whose speech consists of shouting, that doesn't mean much," Daphne said with a teasing smile.
"Ouch. Harsh much?"
"Did this happen last year?" asked Astoria. When everyone looked at her, she elaborated with, "I mean people blaming Harry for what happened?"
Daphne and Susan looked at each other. Harry studied the youngest in their group. She was a lot sharper than she let on.
"Not really," Susan said at last. "I mean, there were a few idiots who might have thought he was responsible when they found out he could speak to snakes, but most people were smart enough to know he couldn't have been the culprit of those attacks."
Unsaid was the "especially after what happened to Hermione" that everyone was no doubt thinking. Harry was glad no one actually said it. While Hermione's death had already been addressed, he didn't want to re-open old wounds.
"I suppose some people are just dumb," Astoria uttered.
"You said it," Tracey said with a nod.
As dinner wound to a close, Harry caught movement out of the corner of his left eye. Turning his head, he saw a flash of pink, a ton of frills, and a toad-like face. It was the new headmistress. Madam Umbridge. She had stood from her seat and made her way to the podium, which was set in front of the teacher's table.
"Ahem," she coughed, and the sound traveled to every part of the Great Hall. "Excuse me, everyone. I would like to have your attention please."
On the other side of the table, Tracey cringed at the headmistress's voice. Harry understood how she felt. Headmistress Umbridge spoke in a voice that was so sickly sweet it was enough to make someone choke.
"While I was able to introduce myself to all of you the previous day, I didn't have much of a chance to speak about the changes that Hogwarts will be undergoing." She paused, and a smile that was so saccharine Harry thought he would die from seeing it appeared on her face. "As you all know, the safety of this school has been jeopardized. Several students have been tragically killed, and there will be even more deaths if something isn't done. To that end, I will be instituting a number of new rules."
Harry felt a chill run down his spine. He had no reason to think her rules would be unreasonable, but hearing about how she would be "instituting new rules" made his skin crawl for some reason. He blamed George Orwell.
"The first rule is that students are not going to be allowed outside of their dormitories after six in the evening unless they have class. The second rule is that students must always walk in groups of at least two."
Those rules actually seemed fairly logical. Setting a curfew would help curtail students being out late, thereby cutting off one of the most likely times when a student could be attacked. The second rule was also a good precaution. In the event of an attack happening, one student would be able to get away and inform a teacher if the other student was in trouble, though it would be even better if there were more than two students. Four would be ideal, but three could also work.
"My third and most important rule," Umbridge continued, "is that students of different houses may no longer mix."
What?
Harry looked around at the other students. Many of them were looking at their friends, who they'd made outside of their house. Harry could see them, the variation of different colored robes mixing together to create a quad-colored sea. Only the stubborn Slytherins, the truly stubborn ones who had refused to mix, remained segregated from everyone else.
"It has become clear to me that the biggest reason people are becoming so susceptible to these attacks is because students from different houses are mixing together. For the safety of you students, people from different houses will no longer be allowed to socialize outside of classes."
While everyone else seemed confused, Harry had noticed something particular about her words: She hadn't included breakfast, lunch, and dinner in the "places where students from other houses could socialize". This meant that her last rule wasn't done for the safety of the students. It was because of some other agenda.
But who's agenda is it? The Minister for Magic, or her own?
"Susan," Harry leaned into her ear and whispered. Susan's ear went red, which he figured meant she'd heard him. "Could you do me a favor?" She nodded. "Send a letter to Madam Bones and tell her about how Madam Umbridge is trying to segregate the Hogwarts houses. Ask her if she knows anything that could help us. I'd like to know who's agenda this woman is pushing."
"I can do that," Susan said quietly.
Harry nodded and smiled.
Dinner soon ended and everyone went to their common rooms. Harry lay awake in bed, wondering how long it would take for him to get the information on Madam Umbridge.
He really didn't like waiting.
XoX
The next day was arduous.
Harry and his friends had gathered for breakfast as usual. Everything was normal. They had spoken about their next classes, argued about Quidditch, or gossiped about wizarding fashion.
"The Fowl Mouth Falcons are doing well this year," Tracey said. "I think they might be the team who wins the cup."
Harry listened as Tracey spoke of which Quidditch team she thought was going to take home the gold. He had no real interest in the sport himself. At best, it was a tool that he could use to engender himself to others, a conversational topic to open deeper dialogue, but the sport itself wasn't that interesting. Then again, the only sport he'd ever enjoyed was martial arts.
"They might be doing well, but I heard their teamwork has been suffering because Randolph Keitch and Basil Horton are arguing again," Terry retorted before munching down on an English muffin.
Randolph and Basil were both members of the Fowl Mouth Falcons. Basil was a beater while Randolph was the seeker. During their last game, Randolph had been hit by a bludger that Basil had been keeping off of him. He had naturally blamed the beater on not being able to protect him, which had caused a fight to break out between the two in the middle of a game. According to the Daily Prophet, they were no longer on speaking terms.
"Look at this," Hannah said as Lisa, Daphne, Astoria, Ginny, and Susan crowded around her. A brand new magazine for Teen Witch Weekly lay on the table, open to a page showcasing the latest in female wizarding fashion. "See the new cut on these robes? Aren't they cute?"
Susan was blushing as she looked at the magazine. Hers and Ginny's faces were nearly as red as their hair. Harry wondered what they were looking at. He couldn't see from where he sat.
"Isn't that cut kind of… immodest?" Susan asked.
"I don't think so," Daphne argued. "It reminds me of some of the dresses I've worn… except it covers more."
Harry had attended several political functions with Daphne, so he knew that she was talking about the dresses her father forced her into. They were made for the purpose of showcasing "the goods" to the parents of potential suitors. Thanks to Celestina's blackmail, Daphne had not been forced to wear anything like that for a while. Harry was grateful to Blaize's mum. He didn't like it when Daphne was forced into clothing that was so skimpy. There was also the matter of her being way too young for that kind of clothing.
I wonder if Celestina realizes how much I owe her… Harry thought about that for a moment before shaking his head. Probably not. If she did, she'd have cashed in the favor by now.
"Ahem."
Before their conversation could continue, a sickly sweet and obnoxious cough came from behind them. Harry, Blaize, Neville, Tracey, and Terry turned in their seat. Umbridge was standing behind them, a smile as nauseatingly sweet as her disgustingly fake cutesy cough plastered on her toad-like face.
"Excuse me," the new headmistress began, "however, might I ask what you children are doing?"
"Uh… eating?" Tracey said in a "what are you smoking?" kind of voice.
"Tsk. Tsk. That is not what I meant." The smile widened. "I meant what are you doing sitting together? I believe I mentioned this before, but students of different houses are no longer allowed to mix like this."
So she really is going to try this…
Harry had not been sure if she'd attempt to reinforce her "rule," but even so, he'd been up all night thinking of ways to counter this woman in case she did. In the end, he had come up with a rather simple solution.
"Excuse me, Headmistress," Harry said, standing up and bowing his head in what seemed like a polite gesture. "Forgive me for sounding so ignorant, but would you mind telling me how keeping students from different houses from interacting guarantees their safety? I'm afraid that I'm a bit too young to understand the concept."
From the toad-like suspicion on Umbridge's face, she didn't seem capable of telling whether he was being honest or not. However, Harry, ever the consummate actor, kept up his demeanor as the young and naive student. Eventually, the woman smiled.
It wasn't a pleasant smile by any means. Harry forced back his shudder.
"I would be more than happy to educate you, Mr. Potter," Umbridge said.
"Thank you. I appreciate that." Harry smiled. "You see, since we're not allowed to spend time together anymore, I have to write letters to Madam Amelia Bones, Celestina Zabini, and Nathaniel Greengrass, and explain to them that I can no longer spend time with their children. I want to make sure they understand why I've cut ties with their families, so your explanation will help me a lot."
Harry had come to realize that he had something of a sadistic streak. He enjoyed watching Neville huff, puff, and wheeze during their first few months of exercise. He liked seeing the faces people made when he teased them. He even enjoyed it when he made girls blush.
However, he didn't think he could have ever derived so much pleasure from watching someone's face shift colors like this.
It was almost amusing, the way Umbridge's eyes widened and became akin to the bulging eyes of a toad's before her face turned white as a sheet. Of course, it didn't stay white. With each name dropped, her face turned an even more sickly shade of green… until he'd gotten to Nathaniel's name.
Nathaniel Greengrass was feared in the wizarding world. It wasn't the kind of fear that Voldemort had inspired. As a man who held nearly enough votes to break any deadlock, everyone was forced to walk on eggshells when dealing with him. Even Lucius Malfoy couldn't outright refuse a demand from the head of the Noble House of Greengrass. That was how powerful the man was.
By mentioning his name here, by stating that he was "allied" in some way to Nathaniel Greengrass, Harry all but told Umbridge that she was interfering in house politics between him and one of the most powerful members of the nobility.
Harry decided to drive the final nail into this coffin. "Surely, you had realized that our families were thinking of formalizing an alliance? We've been discussing the matter for some time. It was believed that an alliance between the houses of Black, Bones, Greengrass, Potter, Longbottom, and Zabini would be an excellent means of securing a future for our families."
Umbridge's green face turned a shade that Harry had never seen before. He didn't even know humans were capable of gaining a hue like that.
Perhaps she really is part toad…
"I-is that so?" Umbridge stuttered, suddenly looking unsure. She took a hesitant step back. Her body shook as though she was a leaf caught within a hurricane. "Well, I suppose I can let this go for now. I wouldn't want… I do not intend to cause issues between noble houses, of course."
"We appreciate that," Harry said, masking his mocking smile behind a polite demeanor.
Because she no longer had any reason to be there, and she had just realized that everyone was staring at them, Umbridge left the Great Hall in a hurry. Harry watched her waddle away. Once she'd disappeared behind the large double doors, he sat down with a sigh.
"Um," Lisa began, "could someone please explain what just happened for those of us who aren't knowledgeable about politics?"
"It was nothing big," Daphne said. "Harry just used a basic political scare informed Umbridge that we're together because we're discussing house matters. There are several laws put in place that keep the ministry from being able to interfere in the politics of noble houses. She couldn't have done anything anyway. However, once Harry stated that the houses of Black, Bones, Greengrass, Potter, Longbottom, and Zabini were thinking of formalizing an alliance, she had no choice but to back off."
"Interfering in the business of that many noble houses, especially houses that powerful, is like committing political suicide," Blaize added. "Four of those houses are members of the Founding Five, and while the Greengrass and Zabinis are only noble houses, we both have a vast range of wealth. Mum is currently the wealthiest woman in Britain, and Daphne's father is the most powerful member of the neutral families on the House of Nobles, plus an acute businessman."
"Anyone of those houses could make her life a living hell," Harry added. "If we became a true alliance of houses, we'd be one of the most feared political groups in Wizarding Britain."
"Though something like that probably won't happen," Susan added. "Even if we're friends, some of our family doesn't get along, so the possibility of us forming an alliance of houses right now is quite small."
"Sounds complicated," Hannah said, rubbing her head as though their lesson had given her a headache.
Harry shrugged. "That's politics for you."
No one could say anything to dispute that.
XoX
Although Harry had managed to curtail Umbridge for the moment, he knew that wouldn't be the end of it. This woman had a hidden agenda. No, he was sure that she was pushing someone else's agenda.
The first thing he needed to do was find out who's agenda she was pushing. That was why he had Blaize, Susan, and Neville contact their families for information on the woman. Each of those three families had different contacts in the wizarding world due to their stances, so there was a good chance that one of them would know about possible connections a specific family might have to Umbridge.
Outside of trying to figure out the new headmistress's game, Harry attended classes with everyone else. Classes weren't anything special. In Study of Ancient Runes, they were beginning to string runes together to form arrays-or at least, they were learning the theory behind it.
Runes were a language, and in order to create a magical effect, they needed to create sentences that invoked magic. A good example would be creating a jet of water. It wasn't enough to just write the characters for water. A sentence would need to be written that said something along the lines of "Shoot a stream of water for x-distance."
Of course, it wasn't as easy as that. There were still rules that needed to be followed. One of those rules followed a law that was similar to conservation of mass, a principle that stated mass cannot be created or destroyed. In other words, even if someone created a runic array to shoot water a certain distance, without having water to shoot, it wouldn't do anything because there was no water. While magic could be used to conjure, that would require creating another runic array and combining the two arrays together, which opened up a whole other can of worms. It wasn't something they were learning this year.
Arithmancy was still his best elective subject, which he excelled at because the math in magic was nowhere near as complex as mundane math. If he had to give arithmancy a "difficulty level", then he would have to say that it was around the same level as basic geometry and algebra. There was nothing particularly hard about it.
There was only one real problem at the moment-outside of his normal problems. This one technically had nothing to do with him. Even so, Harry felt obligated to do something about it.
The problem was with the headmistress's new policy on not allowing students from other houses to mix. Umbridge might have been lenient with Harry and his friends. However, even though she'd made an exception for them due to their political status, others did not have the same protection. Several students had already gotten into trouble with the headmistress. Harry had seen numerous students being given detentions for just walking in the hall with students from another house.
Because he didn't want to cause a scene, or incite jealousy from others thanks to their preferential treatment, Harry and his friends spent their free time in the Chamber of Secrets. What had once been his private work room had now become a lounge.
Harry glanced around at the interior, wondering about the changes to the chamber. The large space appeared to have more in common with a house than it did a laboratory. In the center of the room were several lounge chairs and sofas centered around a coffee table, which had a chess set currently sitting on top. Underneath the furniture was a soft rug.
The lounge-like area didn't take up much space. However, next to the lounge was a fully equipped gym. Harry had bought the equipment, placed some featherweight charms on them, and brought them in his trunk. There was also the spell casting range, which was basically just a series of self-repairing dummies that people could use for target practice. His personal workspace, which consisted of a large desk that curved around to form an L shape was easily the smallest part of the chamber. Even the airspace wasn't safe since Tracey's broom track was up there.
There was also a place for studying, a long table that had been set up with thirteen chairs and had thirteen candles lying lengthwise across it. That was where Harry and the others were at the moment.
"I got a letter from Auntie," Susan said, setting the letter on the table and carefully unfolding it. "She says that Madam Umbridge is the senior undersecretary for the Minister for Magic."
"We already knew that," Tracey said, causing Susan to blush.
"What else does it say?" Lisa asked.
"Not much," Susan admitted. "It doesn't say anything about potential families that she might be allied to, at least."
The senior undersecretary was a high ranking position within the Ministry of Magic, second only to the Minister for Magic. The job of the senior undersecretary was to act as the second-in-command. They were answerable only to the Minister for Magic, granting them a great deal of power within the Ministry.
Fortunately, the Ministry wasn't all-powerful. The government was set up with two branches: The Ministry of Magic and the House of Nobles. The Ministry made sure everyone upheld the law. However, it was the House of Nobles that created the laws, and while the Minister for Magic could also create his or her own laws, it needed to have a 2/3rds vote from the House of Nobles in order for it to be passed.
There was also the Wizengamot, but they were just the governmental body used to hold trials. They had no say when it came to the creation of laws and wizarding policies.
This gave Harry a lot of leeway. As the heir apparent to a founding house, and the godson and heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, another founding house, Harry wielded a lot of political power on his own. When combined with the Bones, Longbottom, Zabini, and Greengrass houses, that power made him almost politically untouchable.
Harry had no issues with using that power to his own benefit. There was no point in having power if a person couldn't use it. At the same time, he wanted to be careful. If it became a crutch, then he would grow complacent, which could cause irreparable damage to his reputation. It could also hurt the reputation of his allies.
Having already learned what happened when he became complacent the hard way, he had vowed to never let himself become like that again.
"What does it say about Umbridge personally?" asked Daphne.
Susan glanced back at the letter. "It says she's a spiteful troll who hates muggleborns with a passion and dislikes anyone who doesn't follow what she believes is the 'ideal wizarding life.'"
"A troll, huh?" Tracey said with a grin. "Doesn't your aunt mean a toad?"
Susan shrugged, as if to say, "don't ask me."
"That more or less coincides with what Gran told me," Neville said. "Umbridge is a pureblood supremacist. She's been advocating pureblood rights ever since she attained office. She's even butted heads with Dumbledore, blocking a number of his attempts to pass laws that would help muggleborn children acclimate to wizarding society better."
"An extremist, huh?" Harry uttered with a sigh. Extremists were the worst type of people to deal with. They would never budge on their position, even if refusing to bow down meant taking the whole world with them into hell. "Do we know who's agenda she's pushing?"
"I don't think she's pushing anyone's agenda but her own," Blaize said. "She was appointed by the Minister for Magic, who we all know is in the pocket of Lucius Malfoy. It stands to reason that Malfoy is the reason she got the position. However, Umbridge isn't the kind of person that Malfoy usually associates with. She's too fanatical."
True enough. Lucius preferred allies who were intelligent enough to get the job done, but not so intelligent that they could betray him. Umbridge didn't strike him as smart. The very fact that she'd created a policy that would cause friction in Hogwarts thanks to the current climate was proof of this.
Sitting by Tracey, Lisa frowned. "Then why would he give her the position of Hogwarts Headmistress?"
"Because she's a distraction, most likely," Harry deduced, biting on his lower lip as he thought of what he would do in his enemy's position. "Lucius Malfoy is cunning. He's not going to use such an extreme fanatic for whatever plot he's hatching. However, using her to distract us from the real plot is exactly something that he would do."
"Then what is his game plan?" asked Terry.
"If I knew that, we could have already neutralized it," Harry said.
"Whatever the case is, I think we should deal with Umbridge first," Daphne said.
No one disagreed with her.
After finishing their homework, everyone exited the Chamber of Secrets via the only passage that no longer required parseltongue to open. Now it was just a regular door with a Fidelius charm placed over it.
Harry's last class that day was Herbology. It was a Wednesday, which was one of his shortest days. He only had four classes total.
Herbology was shared with the Ravenclaws, so Harry and Neville walked to the greenhouse with Terry and Lisa. Neville was talking Lisa's ear off about how excited he was because they would finally be dealing with Devil's Snare. Lisa listened with an indulgent smile.
Just as they were reaching greenhouse five, a heart-rending shriek split the air. A crashing noise echoed across the grounds, followed by the sound of tearing metal and shattering glass.
Several feet away, Greenhouse five exploded as the large vines of a massive plant busted through every window. The vines writhed like the tentacles of a kracken. They curled around the metal framework and then squeezed, crushing the greenhouse as though it was cheap plastic.
Harry recognized the plant. It was a Devil's Snare, but it was a dozen times bigger than the one he and his friends had dealt with in their first year.
Within several of its tentacle-like vines were people-Professor Sprout and several students that Harry recognized as seventh years. Their screams resounded across the school grounds, piercing his ears.
"What's a Devil's Snare doing out in the sun like this?!" Neville squawked. "That thing should have shriveled up by now!"
"Nevermind that," Terry snapped. "What are we supposed to do?!"
Given the situation, Harry decided to take charge. "Terry! Run and get Madam Pomfrey! Do so quickly. Lisa and Neville, you two are with me."
"Uh… right!"
Terry raced off while Neville and Lisa pulled out their wands. Harry also pulled out his wands, both his and his mother's. He'd need all the firepower he could get.
"How are we going to deal with this?" asked Lisa.
"Cast your strongest incendio," Harry instructed. "Aim inside of the warehouse."
"Got it!"
It was a testament to his growth that Neville didn't hesitate. He rushed forward like a reckless Gryffindor and cast his strongest incendio at the base of the plant, which was hidden within the barely standing greenhouse five. Several vines swooped down to try and pound Neville into the ground, but he deftly avoided them with swift leaps from side to side.
"Incendio!"
Fire burst from the tip of Neville's wand, a cylindrical cone of orange flames that slammed into the Devil Snare's middle. The monstrous plant shrieked as a conflagration spread across it's body. The fire spread when Lisa joined in, attacking from a distance.
Harry used this opportunity to rescue the students and Professor Sprout. Several powerful cutting curses flew from his personal wand, which had lost it's black sheen and returned to the entwined mixture of black and white wood. The cutting curses sliced into the massive vines with impunity. The seventh years and Professor Sprout shrieked as they fell. Harry then swished his mother's wand at them. Everyone falling halted in mid-air before they were jerked over to him, where they landed on the ground.
"Neville!" Harry called. "Get back!"
Instead of nodding to acknowledge the order, Neville merely hopped backwards several times, weaving past the vines as they came down. He sent several cutting curses at the vines. While it didn't lop them off-they were too thick for anything but the most powerful of spells-it did cause the vines to rear back as if in pain.
Harry had to admire his friend's movement. Their constant training really had done a wonder on Neville. He moved almost like a professional duelist.
When Neville was out of harm's way, Harry thrust his wand forward while unleashing as much magic as possible. The area in front of him roared to life. A fire nearly as wide as he was tall blasted from his wand like a cannon. The force was such that Harry was almost lifted off the ground, but he used magic to force his feet to stick, which resulted in him sliding backwards.
The flames, an incandescent white blaze, struck greenhouse five, melting a lot of the metal before plowing into the Devil's Snare. There was no pained shriek, no flailing vines. The Devil's Snare went up in flames, which quickly spread across its surface, consuming it within seconds. When all was said and done, nothing remained. The Devil's Snare was gone and the greenhouse was standing on its last leg.
With the Devil's Snare destroyed, Harry was able to focus on the injured. Professor Sprout and the others were all in varying states of abuse. Some only had bruised skin, but there were a few who'd suffered from broken bones. Harry started mending the most serious injuries first. It was harder than he would have liked, but he contented himself with the knowledge that he didn't know any actual healing spells.
Hogwarts did not offer any books on medical spells. The reason was because healing was a branch of magic that could be fatal if not cast right. It was a dangerous magic. Even Hannah, who knew a bit about healing, only knew so much because her mother was a former mediwitch. The Ministry of Magic carefully regulated the books people could buy on healing magic. It was technically required for a witch or wizard to undergo training and receive a license before even being allowed to use healing magic.
Madam Pomfrey arrived around fifteen minutes later, and she took over Harry's job, shooing him out of the way so she could work in peace. Harry was all too happy to leave her to it. He hadn't been able to do much more than number their pain.
"What should we do now?" asked Neville. "I don't imagine we'll have class with Professor Sprout out of commission like this."
"I'm of the same mind," Harry admitted. "Should we do a self study until it's time for our next class?"
As he spoke, what remained of greenhouse five groaned and then collapsed. Harry, Lisa, Terry and Neville stared at the ruins of what had once been where they learned about herbology. It took Harry a moment, but he eventually figured out the only thing he could have said in this situation.
"I didn't do it."
Lisa, Neville, and Terry gave him very odd looks.
XoX
Defense Against the Dark Arts was a self-study. The goal for the class was for everyone to finish writing a report on the differences between vampires and werewolves. It was a two foot long report, meaning it would take most people several weeks. Professor Antus had thought it would be a good idea if they worked on it in class, where he was available should anyone have any questions or a need for clarification.
Harry had already finished his report; Daphne, Neville, Tracey, and Blaize had also finished their reports. They had even gone ahead and turned them in. Since they were done, it meant they didn't have anything to do. Tracey and Neville were playing a quiet game of mundane poker, Blaize was reading a book of wizarding poets, and Daphne was writing in a diary. Consequently, the diary was something that Harry had bought her for Christmas.
Since he didn't want anyone knowing about his projects outside of his friends, Harry was left with nothing to do-except meditate. With his mind being what it was, he still needed to meditate every night. His occlumency had been getting a lot better. That was what he believed, at any rate. Without having a legilimens with more power and skill than him test his ability to defend against intrusions, there was no way to know for sure.
I should ask Professor Lupin if he knows legilimency.
A chill traveled down Harry's spine. He stopped meditating and opened his eyes, peering around at the people nearest him. His friends were busy doing their own thing. The others close to him were writing or reading from their text books. The chill had yet to leave. Someone was watching him.
He turned his head toward the teacher, Professor Antus, who was staring at him with unblinking eyes. The man inclined his head. It took him a moment, but he realized what the man wanted. Harry nodded back.
Class came to an end with the tolling of a bell. No one outside of his group had finished their papers, so, naturally, everyone else had it as homework. Students groaned as they stood from their seats and filed out of the room.
"Could you go on without me?" Harry asked his friends. "I need to speak with Professor Antus."
"I'm staying," Daphne said.
Tracey, Neville, and Blaize shared looks of amusement. Harry wanted to frown, but he was kind of used to this by now. No doubt, Neville would tease him later this evening.
"We'll see you two later, then," Neville said.
"Have fun," Tracey added. Blaize just offered them a nod.
"You sure you don't want to go with them?" Harry asked Daphne as their three friends vacated the room.
Daphne shook her head. "I want to stay with you."
Knowing how stubborn Daphne could be at times, Harry didn't argue with her. He accepted that she was staying.
Professor Antus frowned at Daphne when they walked up to him. However, his attention soon turned to Harry. Without waiting for him to speak, the DADA professor said, "I apologize for holding you back, but I wanted a chance to speak with you."
"That is an intriguing coincidence," Harry said. "I've been meaning to speak with you as well."
"I don't think I need to tell you that something unusual is happening within Hogwarts."
"As if we needed you telling us that," Daphne muttered under her breath.
"I believe we are probably the most aware that something isn't right at Hogwarts," Harry said before Professor Antus could berate Daphne for her sharp tongue.
"Then did you know that someone has managed to infiltrate the school?" Professor Antus asked.
Harry frowned. "Do you mean Umbridge?"
Shaking his head, the DADA professor said, "they've been here since before Umbridge."
That was… disturbing news. Harry wondered if he was talking about the person who cast that area wide illusion, or was he talking the person who'd attacked Harry?
"Do you know who they are?"
"Negative. That's why I'm talking to you." Professor Antus gestured to Harry. "You and your friends have always been in the thick of things here at Hogwarts. When something goes wrong, you're the ones who are the most involved. Since that's been the case for every year thus far, I was hoping it might be the case this time."
"I see." Harry sighed. "You were hoping we'd know something." He narrowed his eyes. "Sadly, we don't actually know anything this time."
"I see."
"And now that you've asked a question, there's something I'd like to ask you."
"Go ahead."
Harry nodded. "From my understanding, you're no longer a hit wizard, so why are you asking me about this?"
"I might not be a hit wizard anymore, but that doesn't mean I don't still work for the Ministry of Magic," Professor Antus said. "Amelia pulled some strings with Minister Fudge when they needed someone to take the defense against the dark arts post after Remus Lupin was laid off. I was selected since I'm technically not under her payroll. She asked me to discreetly look into the incidents happening around Hogwarts. I agreed."
So that was it. Madam Bones had chosen Professor Antus because he had cut ties with the Hit Wizards, which meant no one could claim that she was trying to "subvert" the students or any such nonsense. At the same time, the professor still held loyalties to Madam Bones, which meant he could be a discreet private investigator for her.
The frown that Daphne had been wearing deepened. "But nothing had happened until after you came."
"That's where you're wrong, Ms. Greengrass," Professor Antus said. "There were several reports of people going missing near Hogsmeade as early as the first month of the new school year. The reports were made by Madam Rosmerta directly to Amelia, so the DMLE was able to keep the information from leaking to anyone else."
While Harry was disgruntled to learn that Amelia had been keeping valuable information from him, he couldn't fault her for doing so. He wasn't a member of the DMLE. He was a student. No one in their right mind, nevermind someone with a governmental position as high as hers, would ever tell a thirteen year old student about something like this. He also had to consider the fact that he had been… out of touch with the rest of the world during that time.
"Then how did you come to the conclusion that this person has infiltrated Hogwarts?" asked Harry. "It sounds like they're in Hogsmeade. That's where all of the attacks have happened."
"You mean aside from the fact that someone had Professor McGonagall deliver that letter to you? The aurors have already done a thorough sweep of Hogsmeade before the last attack." Moving around his oakwood desk, Professor Antus sat down and steepled his fingers. "The thing is, the DMLE has been in Hogsmeade since the first person went missing. They never found anything."
"You checked the surrounding forests and everything?" asked Daphne.
"They even checked the Forbidden Forest just to be safe," Professor Antus said. "Unless they went so deep into the forest that we can't track them, they aren't anywhere around Hogsmeade or the surrounding area."
Professor Antus had neglected to mention the possibility of someone apparating to Hogsmeade, but the chances of that being the case were also unlikely. Apparition left traces of magic. There were methods of tracing that magic back to the original apparition point. The only way to avoid that was to apparate somewhere people couldn't get to, like a house under the Fidelius Charm. That was how Harry had avoided detection after running from the aurors during the summer.
"You two can head off now," Professor Antus said. "Just promise me that you'll be careful. I know you guys have a habit of getting into trouble, but I want you to leave this to the professionals."
"Yes, sir," Harry said before he and Daphne left.
"What do you think?" Daphne asked as they walked down the hall.
Harry tilted his head for a moment. "I think… we shouldn't listen to the professor's suggestion."
"So we should investigate into this matter?"
"Yes."
Daphne hesitated before plowing on. "Because of what happened to Hermione?"
Last year, Harry had suggested not getting involved with the Chamber of Secrets. He'd told everyone to leave the matter to the adults. Hermione had died as a result.
"Partly," he admitted. "However, I think there's more to these attacks than mere random attacks. Maybe it's just me being paranoid, but I feel like the attack on Hogsmeade was meant specifically for us."
"But that doesn't explain the disappearances that happened before we were even allowed into Hogsmeade," Daphne said.
"No, but there might be." Harry paused to gather his thoughts. "In the Black library, there are a number of dark books. Some of them involve sacrificing people in exchange for something: power, the ability to summon a demon, and other such magics. It could be that whoever we're dealing with needed human sacrifices for similar reasons."
Daphne shuddered. "That… doesn't sound pleasant. Who would do something like that?"
"There's only one person I can think of who'd commit such heinous acts," Harry said.
His friend sucked in a breath. "Do you think we're dealing with V… Voldemort again?"
"Either him or someone like him," Harry said. "This person could be another dark lord in the making, or maybe it's someone who's been possessed by the Dark Lord like Ginny or Professor Quirrell had been."
"I'm not sure which of those prospects is more frightening," Daphne admitted.
"Me neither," Harry said.
Perhaps it was the topic, but the hallway seemed more ominous than before. Fortunately, nothing happened, and after escorting Daphne to the Slytherin's den, Harry began making his way to the Gryffindor tower.
The Gryffindor tower was on the opposite side of the Slytherin's den. Not only that, but the Slytherins were in the basement while the Gryffindors were in a tower. It meant he had to go from one side of the castle to the other while also ascending numerous staircases and traveling through multiple hallways.
As he walked down the hallway, passing by the moving suits of armor, Harry's instinct suddenly flared, warning him of imminent danger.
He reacted quickly. The sound of something cutting the air whistled in his ear. Harry leapt to the side, feeling the wind rush past him as though something was slicing the air. Loud squealing erupted from where he'd been standing, and when he looked over, it was to see that one of the swords of armor had tried cutting him in half with a sword.
What the hell?
The suit of armor stepped down from its small stand. All of the other suits in this hallway followed suit. Harry backed up, warily eying the armored suits as they walked toward him, the clang-clang! of their footsteps echoing along the hall.
Reaching out with his senses, Harry tried to see if he could feel any traces of magical energy. A spell was clearly being used to control these suits of armor. Yet when he felt around, all he could feel was the accumulated magic of several thousand years worth of students and teachers congregating at this school. With such an overwhelming magical force, he couldn't detect any magic being used.
This isn't good. I need to get out of this situation first. Then I can begin investigating into this further.
The suit of armor in front of him raised its axe, and Harry leapt out of the way, wincing as the massive weapon sliced into the brick wall. He moved further back. This, sadly, took him next to another armored suit, which swung its broadsword horizontally as though trying to slice off his head. He ducked, spun around, and then he sent a reinforced palm strike into the armored chestplate. It dented, bowing inward as the rest of the armor was sent flying, scattering and bouncing along the walls and floor.
Two more suits of armor rushed him. The one on his right was carrying a halberd; the one on his left a sword. Loud clattering behind him alerted to a third suit of armor. It looked like they were trying to ensnare him in a trap.
That won't work.
Harry didn't time to pull out his wands, much less cast a spell. With nothing else up his sleeve, he channeled all the magic he could into his arms and legs. Using precisely timed bursts, he launched his magic with every punch and kick.
The two suits of armor in front of him exploded as he punched them before they could attack with their unwieldy weapons. Then he spun around, launching a precisely timed high-kick at the next armored suit's head. Not only did the helmet fly off, but the metal shattered, though that didn't stop the armor from continuing to attack him.
He sidestepped a thrust of the armor's claymore, and then spun around when another suit of armor came in from his flank, broadsword swinging. A downward swing was dodged. Harry stepped on the sword's flat end to keep it pinned. Then he launched a fist into the armored chestplate, unleashing a power burst of magic that shattered it.
Even with that suit of armor down, Harry was still in a lot of trouble. He counted at least eight more suits of armor. All of them were closing in fast.
Gritting his teeth, Harry found himself dodging a hail storm of swinging weapons. The scent of steel seared his nose. Air whistled as he swerved around, his feet shuffling in a deadly dance, while a variety of ancient weaponry came millimeters to impaling, slicing, or tearing him apart.
His flesh stung as nicks and cuts appeared along his skin. They were shallow wounds. Even so, if he accumulated enough cuts, they would eventually become debilitating. He needed to do something, and quickly.
Moving along the ground, ducking, dodging, weaving, and pirouetting, Harry danced through the attacks as he glanced at his surroundings. He searched for something, anything, that he could use as a weapon. Even a tapestry would have been appreciated at this point.
Sadly, there weren't any tapestries, but there were several portraits. The paintings inside of the portrait were all following his battle. He spared them a split second. It was long enough to yell, "Get Professor McGonagall!" Before he was forced to turn his attention back to the suits of armor.
Time seemed immemorial as he did his best to stay alive. Harry felt like he was trapped within a haze. A red film had covered his eyes. Left. Right. Backstep. Sidestep. Spin. Harry moved and moved and kept moving. Swords and halberds, pikes and spears, all manner of melee weaponry came at him from all sides. He dodged what he could and deflected what he couldn't with his hands. It wasn't enough. More cuts appeared along his skin. Blood began to stain his robes.
For just a moment, Harry was sure that he was done for. He was tired, his breathing labored, his body stinging from the damage of hundreds of cuts, and his mind on the verge of collapsing. The suits of armor were tireless, and he was growing tired. It was just as Harry realized that he had been cornered that a miracle occurred.
"Esparro!"
He was saved. Several stakes jutted from the floor, stabbing straight through several suits of armor. This didn't stop the armor, which kept trying to move toward him. However, as if sensing this, the stakes that were piercing the armor elongated and then curved around and entangled them like elastic bindings. Armor squealed and clinked. Yet it didn't budge.
That was when Harry felt it, a massive wave of magic that washed through the area. The hairs on his neck prickled. His senses were briefly overwhelmed. Then the wave passed over him, and all of the armored suits went still. A moment of silence passed. The stakes unwrapped from around the armor and went back into the floor, and the armored suits clattered to the ground.
"Mr. Potter,"a voice said, rolling the "r" in a familiar Scottish accent.
Harry turned. Standing several meters away and getting closer was Professor McGonagall. Her determined and fierce demeanor was like nothing he'd ever seen before, not on her, and the way she moved, with a predatory and feline grace, belied her age. This was not the Professor McGonagall that he remembered.
"Are you all right, Mr. Potter?"
Nodding, Harry slumped against the wall as his legs, finally out of energy, gave out on him. Professor McGonagall flicked her wand. Harry felt a brief moment where his stomach was in his throat, and then his body became weightless. He floated through the air, toward his head of house, who slung his arm over her shoulder and began half-carrying and half-dragging him down the hall.
"I need you to do some of the walking, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said. "I cannot carry your weight by myself."
Harry grunted as he forced magic into his legs, strengthening them. It hurt. While he had plenty of magic left, he'd used so much that using anymore to enhance his muscles caused pain. "Sorry."
"It's fine. Now, come on. Let's get you to the hospital wing."
"No." Harry shook his head. "Not the hospital wing."
"Mr. Potter, you are injured."
"These injuries aren't serious. I'll heal with a good night's rest. Take me to your office, please."
Professor McGonagall didn't speak at first. Harry couldn't see her, but he could practically sense her frown.
"Very well," she sighed.
Professor McGonagall's office was located in the back of the Transfiguration classroom. After entering, she set Harry in a seat that had been situated before her desk, then walked around to the other side and sat down. Her stare, which had probably sent more children than Harry could count running, pierced his soul.
"I suppose… I should begin by telling you what happened," Harry said.
"That would be a good start."
"Right."
Since there wasn't much to tell, Harry's recounting of how he'd been ambushed and attacked was short. Professor McGonagall still listened to his words despite this. When he finished speaking, the frown that she'd been wearing had become a thin line.
"I still find it hard to believe that you were attacked by someone who had infiltrated the school," Professor McGonagall stated. "It's even more hard to believe that they managed to set those suits of armor on you. Our armor has several defense mechanisms that activate when the school believes that someone is a threat to the safety of the students, so it shouldn't have attacked you."
Harry was actually aware of the defensive magics surrounding the armor. Nicholas Flamel had told him that those suits of armor were souls that had been stripped of their identity and encased in the armored suits. It was a punishment that had been used for the vilest of criminals. This was back during the Founder's era, long before Azkaban had been a prison.
"Do you think someone could have used a spell to make the magic activate when I walked passed it?" Harry asked.
Professor McGonagall bit her lip. "There are methods of remotely activating a spell, putting it on a timer, and even setting it to activate upon being tripped by a specific magic presence. However, such methods are more advanced than anything taught at Hogwarts. Only someone with Headmaster Dumbledore's level of knowledge could do something like that."
So they were dealing with someone who was as knowledgeable as the headmaster? Harry would have liked say that narrowed down his suspects quite a bit, but in truth, all it did was throw him off. He knew of no one outside of Voldemort with that kind of knowledge.
Voldemort wasn't in Hogwarts. He couldn't be. Even with the headmaster gone, the defenses he'd put in place, which kept disembodied spirits attached to the back of people's heads from entering the school, still remained.
Did this mean there was a new enemy?
"Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall said.
"Is it possible to keep quiet about what happened?" Harry asked. "I know that sounds like an unreasonable request, but since we don't know who attacked me, letting everyone know what's going on might incite a panic."
"I was actually going to suggest the same thing," the stern professor admitted.
"R-really?"
"Indeed. It is not wise for us to let everyone know about what happened yet. Since we don't have a plan of action, letting everyone else know may cause your attacker to panic and react in a manner we can't predict. I was going to suggest that you keep quiet for the time being."
"Do you have a plan?" Harry asked.
"Not at present, but I'll discreetly speak with Filius and the others to see if I can come up with a plan to locate the person responsible for this," Professor McGonagall said, standing to her feet. "Now, then, I'm going to escort you to the Gryffindor Tower. Since we don't know if that person will attack again, it's dangerous for you to be by yourself."
"Right."
Harry sighed. He'd been nearly at the Gryffindor Tower before being attacked, and now he had to travel all the way up there again?
This was turning out to be some day.
The plot is thickening, and Harry is being assaulted more blatantly than before. Who is responsible for these attacks? What do they want? Will the world ever discover the joy that is canned cheese? Find out next time on Dragon Ball-I mean, find out next time on Harry Potter and the Ties that Bind!