Chapter 66 - New Decrees and rising Ire
''Where on earth did you get someone to attach a centaur arm to you, Potter?''
At Madam Pomfrey's wide-eyed expectant look, Harry realised a few things.
One: if the nurse had already figured out so much information that she could tell the arm was created from a centaur of all beings and had been attached by someone else, she probably knew even more that she wasn't telling.
Two: Harry had found out over the years that he really was very bad at outright lying. Omission was one thing, he could do that, he'd had much practise with that at the Dursley's and had to do that every single day now too. Twisting the truth was also not too much of a problem as long as he could lean it on something. Lying in sticky situations like these however, had more often than not led to trouble. One only had to ask Snape… Harry's excuse for Malfoy seeing Harry's head at Hogsmeade had been to suggest that Malfoy maybe wasn't right in the head and had hallucinations. That that would not go over well, anyone should have seen coming from a mile away.
So, he swallowed down any ludicrous lie his brain might have provided. ''You said that St. Mungo's wouldn't be able to help me,'' he started, hesitantly looking down at his arm. ''So just in case, I had it checked out by someone I know. To my shock, I was told that it was far more severe than I'd thought, that it might only have lasted a few months more at most and would have affected my ability to properly cast magic unless I learned very quickly to switch wand arms. I was scared, Madam. Of losing my arm, and of people having one more reason to stare at me. It's bad enough with everyone scrutinising me because of a scar on my forehead. A wooden limb would be a bit much. I was offered an alternative and… it worked.''
She sighed deeply, wrinkles appearing in her forehead as she traced the dark line across Harry's elbow. ''I cannot deny that this is solid work, but…''
''But?''
Her green eyes pinned him down. ''This is dark magic, Potter. Blood magic at the very least. Which you should know if you were awake for any part of whatever ritual they put you under.'' The teen tried not to move to not give away any obvious signs of guilt. She seemed to catch something after all. ''As I thought. In any regular situation, I would try to undo this foul magic, as it could have more effects than you signed up for. In this case, the result of that may be a worse alternative than leaving it as is.''
He sat up a bit straighter. ''What do you mean with 'more effects than I signed up for?'' he warily asked. Voldemort had not mentioned anything… which was unusual. If there was a risk of danger, the Dark Lord typically told him straight.
Pomfrey solemnly shook her head. ''Blood magic has a steep price and even after paying that, it doesn't always turn out well. Unless the person whose aid you sought has absolute control over their powers-'' she broke off the sentence and raised her eyebrows, at which Harry realised that he'd completely relaxed again upon hearing her last sentence.
''I have utmost confidence in their skill,'' Harry diplomatically spoke, inwardly amused by what Voldemort would think of anyone doubting his work - if the nurse would know who had cast these spells, she probably would not.
''I see,'' she only said, her tone indicating that she had no faith in Harrys judgement of a stranger's healing abilities. Fair enough.
''This puts me in a tough position, Potter,'' she started, clasping her hands behind her back and pacing back and forth. ''I would like to point out that I am not here to judge you. I am a medical professional, not an Auror, and I generally do not care about what you do to your body as long as it does not affect my job. I am honour bound to patient confidentiality in nearly all cases.'' Harry raised his eyebrows, thinking to himself that this was something that the rest of staff clearly did not wish to become widely known. Otherwise, Ron could have been much more open about what exactly had bitten him when Norbert's fangs has spread its poison and Ron's hand had looked a nasty green. The 'nearly all cases' did prevent him from asking about that, not wanting to throw his friend under the bus before having all facts. And indeed, Madame Pomfrey continued with:
''However, if the safety of other students in this castle is at risk, I have to put the majority over a singular student. You willingly underwent a ritual that clearly isn't legal, aided by people who, even with this act of helping you alone, would be labelled criminal by any standard. Either by possible side effects from blood magic or by your contact to these people, there could be a realistic possibility of others being endangered. If so, at least the Headmaster and your Head of House should be informed.''
Harry felt all blood drain from his face. Shortly after receiving this arm, he'd had good reasons for doing his best to hide it from anyone. Those were still just as valid now. When it had just been about fooling Umbridge, he could remain rational and calm about this. Dumbledore and McGonagall finding out however… that could lead to anything from getting expelled to his connections with Voldemort being found out. Within a few seconds, many different possible outcomes flashed in front of his mind's eye. If Dumbledore would catch onto who had cast this magic, what was to stop the Headmaster from deciding that Harry should be the first Horcrux to murder after all? No, that absolutely could not happen! He needed to say something, convince Pomfrey otherwise. The alternative… Harry didn't want to think about any alternatives. He knew that all of them would lead to the choice of his and Voldemort's life against Madam Pomfrey's. And while Harry didn't care much for his own, the thought of Voldemort being erased from this world for good constricted his throat.
This was possibly one of the worst moments to get a panic epiphany about how skewed his morals had become, so of course Harry did. As clear as day, he could see the path that opened up in front of him: he would become the murderer of an innocent person if it meant protecting Voldemort. Suddenly, Harry could see why Barty could so easily commit the crimes he did in his quest for the Dark Lord's approval and safety.
Knowing that prolonged silence was not effective, he forced himself to croak out: ''I don't see how there is any risk. I've had this replacement for a while now, nothing happened. And I sought this person out, it's not like they're at Hogwarts or have access to the castle!''
Panic increased as Pomfrey shook her head. Tentatively, Harry curled his stiff fingers around the handle of his wand. ''That may be so, but you still have contact to mages who practice illegal magic on minors. According to Professor Dumbledore, the Dark Lord himself is after you, I cannot fathom why you would risk catching the attention of any dark witch or wizard. This person may betray you, lure you somewhere, perhaps convince you to bring other students with you.''
Harry shifted his weight to hide the movement of withdrawing his wand to get it in position. ''I refuse to believe that everyone who practises dark magic is automatically evil,'' he declared, hoping desperately that this new turn could bring her to see reason. ''Nor that they all work together with Voldemort somehow. I went to them because I thought they might have a different perspective instead of only information on regular healing, and I was right. I didn't care about what kind of magic would be used as long as no-one got hurt for it, and no-one did.'' Let her believe that he was naïve and too trusting, it was a better alternative than her thinking that he'd actively sought out someone who'd know the darkest and most powerful pieces of magic because he was aware of that light magic wasn't going to be of any use.
Her features softened, and she hesitated. A huge weight fell off his chest as he saw it, and Harry loosened his grip slightly, feeling that the handle of his holly wand was covered in sweat.
It was working, he could do this… Quick, something to distract from the topic… ''How do you know that I had help, by the way?'' he asked, something he was genuinely curious about, or had been until he was gripped by the adrenaline that rushed through his body still.
Madam Pomfrey chuckled in disbelief. ''Excuse me, Potter. For all of your shown aptitude in magic of… various obscure branches during last year's Tournament, you are only fifteen. This would take decades of dedicated practise. No matter my personal thoughts on the type of magic, I cannot deny the perfection of it. The previous curse has been removed, this new limb connects seamlessly, and it was even altered using your own gene sequence to blend in. Apart from a few oddities, it passes for your real arm when not inspected closely. This was the work of a genius… which is not to say that I can judge it to be perfect. Hardly any dark mage can exercise control over their creations, as it is magic that tends to overwhelm one,'' she trailed off, her tone becoming almost… nostalgic.
''You sound as if you have experience with it,'' the Gryffindor couldn't help but point out. Her unfocused gaze instantly turned sharp again, almost angry, before it smoothed out and her lips pressed into a thin line. The teen's heart jumped a bit at the realisation of that indeed, Pomfrey had experimented with dark magic at some point. That made everything a lot easier, especially now that she knew that he'd caught onto something.
''Do not try to divert this conversation, Potter,'' she coolly spoke. Impatiently tapping sounds of her wand against her thigh followed. ''You are certain that your contacts' sphere of influence does not include Hogwarts?''
Worded like that, he of course was not certain. Through various other people like his Death Eaters, Voldemort would be able to reach other students easily, especially from Slytherin. None of that was linked to this particular incident with Harry's arm though, so he said: ''Through me they won't be getting into the castle, and I won't bring anyone else to them. I promise.'' He didn't have any plans to right now, at least. That was the best he could do.
Pomfrey stared contemplatively out of the window for a while before nodding stiffly. ''I will keep silent about this to Professor Dumbledore as well as Professor Umbridge, on one condition: for your own safety as well as everyone else within this school, you need to tell me as much as you can about your new arm, so I can more accurately estimate the involved risks.''
Uncertain whether he could trust her stance not to shift when revealing more details, Harry asked for good measure: ''Nothing I say will change your decision?''
''No, but if you refuse to cooperate or I find out that you lie to me, I'll march straight to the Headmaster's office,'' she warned.
Left with no better alternative, the Gryffindor drew a deep breath. ''So first of all, it wasn't exactly blood magic, so much as death magic…'' he fessed up. To her credit, Madam Pomfrey did not look overly shocked or horrified. Encouraged by the lack of a negative reaction, Harry started describing the ritual to her, of course without ever mentioning details of who had performed it or the place and timeframe. When he'd finished speaking, she professionally summarised:
''An anaesthetic charm, an elemental ritual that may have been combined with blood magic to kill the curse with your arm, and Necromancy to replace it by centaur bone and human skin… gruesomely effective.''
''I only said 'straps of leathery stuff', I didn't mention human skin.''
''It would have had to be human skin for this result,'' she replied, dashing his hopes for remaining ambiguity about the origin of Voldemort's other ingredients. ''So, that was all within the span of… what, twenty minutes, as you describe it?''
Harry shrugged. ''I didn't exactly time it. The actual ritual felt much shorter than that, but there was a lot of cutting and prodding involved during the examination beforehand. So I'd guess anywhere from ten minutes to half an hour.''
The nurse nodded thoughtfully, not giving away any conclusions she may be drawing from his information. ''Where is your arm now? Your biological one?''
''I left it there, not much use for me anymore'' he said, not wanting to admit that Voldemort had specifically requested to keep it. That turned out to be a good decision as her calm demeanour vanished instantly.
''You left…? Are you INSANE, Potter? Do you have NO regards for your own SAFETY?'' she yelled, going full fury-mode ''You went to a person of whom you know that they dabble in the darkest of magics, necromancy even, and you let them keep a PIECE of you? Do you have… do you have any idea how much control you gave them over you with that? Disguise potions, golems, tracking spells, binding and control curses! They could make a copy of you, pretend to be you, hurt you from a distance… even imitating your magical signature is possible as it was your wand arm!''
At the words, an uncomfortable feeling coiled in the pit of Harry's stomach. Would Voldemort really…? Yes, yes he would. Maybe the man had not planned on doing anything like Pomfrey described with Harry's former arm, but he'd absolutely kept it as a backup plan in case Harry was succumbed to doubt or fell into enemy hands. In either case, Voldemort would not hesitate to use it against Harry if he deemed it 'necessary'. All feelings and connections between them aside, the Dark Lord was a very practical man and would not let emotions ruin any of his plans. Harry had no disillusions about that. ''Are there any positive possible uses for it?'' he hopefully asked, not wanting to think too hard on the man he was so intimately connected with keeping a piece for nefarious purposes.
Pomfrey calmed down somewhat and smiled wryly. ''The same. I'm not saying that the ability to track, control or copy you has to be used to harm you, only that it could. As long as you cannot know for certain of their intentions, it was a blatantly neglectful move on your part to leave your arm behind.''
''Would have been a bit weird to keep a shrivelled arm hidden in my trunk,'' he declared defensively. ''Should I have kept it next to my pickled brains and rabbit corpses?''
The look he got in return made him shut up rather quickly. ''You need to be taught sensible thinking, Potter.'' He was about to mentally roll his eyes and say a monotone 'yes Madam Pomfrey' before going on his merry way, when she pointed her wand at the office door on the opposite side of the room. ''As no-one seems to have succeeded in that for the past five years, I might give it a try. I like challenges.'' Her smile was honey-sweet, in stark contrast with the sharp daggers her eyes were throwing at him. ''Methinks that you need something to distract you from running off, chasing dark mages and death magic of all things unholy.''
It was in the middle of the night when Pomfrey was finally done chewing him out and sent him back to Gryffindor tower, accompanying him so he wouldn't get into more trouble. He managed to get only few hours of sleep in before the morning alarm sounded already. Harry washed and rubbed his face frantically to try and wake up, not succeeding terribly well. As he changed into a pair of clean robes, his eyes fell on the stack of books he'd been given by the nurse, which he'd simply dumped on top of his trunk as he'd been so dead tired yesterday. Harry picked them up and sorted through them, seeing titles such as 'the Healer's Helpmate' and 'The wizarding families' health guide'.
Healing… even though Pomfrey knew nothing about Harry's previous attempts -and successes-, she had insisted on loading another project onto his shoulders to keep him on the 'straight path', as she had worded it. The teen wasn't even sure what that meant, healing spells could be just as dark as any other type of magic. For whatever reason, the nurse was certain that getting into healing would somehow keep Harry away from more dangerous magic though. From her reaction yesterday, maybe that was what had happened to herself… Putting it out of mind and glad that he now had some material to sort through to use in his planned D.A. healing sessions, Harry joined Ron and Neville on their way downstairs. They didn't get much further than the end of the boy's dorms' staircase.
Several seconds after arriving in the common room, Harry's blood started boiling again. At fault was, as usual now, Umbridge. Not one, but two new Decrees were plastered on several sections of the common room walls. The first, as he saw upon moving closer, banned teachers from giving students any information that was not related to class – going so far that each teacher was only allowed to speak to students about the specific subject they taught. It had been an expected move, though that did not mean Harry or anyone else would take it without protesting.
And then Harry read the next one.
''She's banning the newspaper?'' Hermione shrieked before he had a chance to close his gaping mouth. ''Preventing access to information is censorship! She can't do that! I would have imaged her maybe banning magazines or so, but the national newspaper?''
It was an extreme, aggressive move that showed just how openly Umbridge was willing to battle all of them. Having given the interview to the Daily Prophet, Harry had been reasonably certain that, while she may punish students unfairly for discussing its contents or maybe ban them from possessing this one issue, Umbridge would not be able to create far-reaching consequences. After all, it was the only real newspaper available in Britain. How else would teachers and students alike be informed about the world around them? How had she gotten Fudge to allow even this? As Hermione said, it was censorship, which surely wasn't legal.
It was Ron who put things into perspective for both of his outraged friends, pulling them aside before Hermione went into the rant she clearly wished to deliver.
''Dad's been complaining about the Ministry having an iron grip on the news for as long as I can remember. There was always lobbying and censorship going on, mostly to have the news be in favour of the Ministry. Now they are publishing articles that paint the government in a bad light…'' he mimicked pointing a wand at his head and shooting. ''Forbidding minors from reading the news at Hogwarts is not illegal as far as I know. There's a law about students not being allowed to be cut off entirely from the outside world at Hogwarts, but as long as there is still a single other piece of available media that reaches here, that is enough to them. The radio is still very pro-Ministry and so are several other magazines. That the main audience is middle-aged to elderly there doesn't matter. With the current stance of the Prophet, I'll bet what little money I have that the Ministry will do everything to prevent the ones in charge at the Prophet from buying up anything else now, so we'll be stuck with Ministry-positive news only.''
''I really dislike the Wizarding world sometimes,'' Harry growled. ''being in such a small community gives way too much power to a few people. Umbridge being one of those and abusing her power is a prime example of why it's a horrible system.''
''It can't be changed overnight, but it can be changed,'' Hermione resolutely said, crossing her arms and glaring at the board. ''We are the next generation of witches and wizards, we decide what the future will look like.''
''By the time we're all sixty, yeah,'' Ron guffawed.
Harry frowned and looked at all the angry people around them. ''It might not take that long,'' he predicted. ''Precisely because the official paper is willing to print such controversial news, we know that there are also people out there who are already fed up with the current situation. More than that, there have been two wars this century where major factions fought for very different ideals. Our world is split, not even into dark or light, but into a multitude of factions that all want something else. We are bound to find allies if we really want to do something about being treated like two-year-olds who cannot make proper decisions.''
''You're right, Harry,'' Hermione added thoughtfully. ''After this, the press will be on our side. Even if we won't be able to read the newspaper anymore, we can try to get the Daily Prophet to write about what is going down at Hogwarts to make adults aware of what we're going through. Unless the Ministry shuts down the entire company, the dubious rules we have to abide by will stir up people far beyond this castle's walls.''
Ron gave her a suspicious glance. ''That somehow sounds like activism…''
Brown eyes flashed dangerously. ''Is that negative to you? Is activism not exactly what we need right now?''
Looking back and forth, Harry wondered if he should intervene. Then, Ron spoke: ''I'm not against activism, far from it. However, last time you tried that, you forced people to give you money just to not hear anything more about house-elves. Plus, you still leave scarves and hats around without ever involving the elves that you want to set free.'' He held up his hands as Hermione turned scarlet in anger. Harry remembered Dobby telling them how offended most of the Hogwarts elves were by her attempts. ''I'm just saying that you maybe need a better plan this time than jumping straight in and spreading your opinion, thinking everyone will agree right away. We should think about this strategically, have a plan first. You make it sound as if you are going to bombard the Prophet with letters.''
The girl calmed down slightly and pursed her lips. ''I thought about that,'' she admitted after a while.
''Ron is right,'' Harry agreed. ''We can't act rashly. It depends on a lot of factors. If we reach out to reporters, we'd better make sure that others will back us up. I'm sure that, while people like Parkinson also won't like these new rules, Umbridge will try to pull them on her side anyways. Perhaps with privileges, or plainly by buying their silence. If we tell one story and the next day another student says everything is fine, that won't make for a very convincing tale.'' Although they were already standing a ways to the side, he pulled Ron and Hermione even further away and said in an as low voice as possible: ''What we need is a meeting, and probably also an expansion, risky as that may be.''
Both of his friends looked surprised. ''You want to expand the D.A.?'' Hermione hesitantly asked. She looked around, seeing the heated discussions that were in full swing in the entire common room, then turned determined. ''Good idea, Harry. Banning the Prophet was not a great move on her part if she wanted people to stop believing you. You are certain to get a lot more support now.''
''Exactly,'' he agreed. ''We'll of course be careful, but surely our current members will be able to make some recommendations for additional people we can trust who maybe believe in our case now. At the start of this all, I'm sure many did not show interest because they thought Umbridge was just another mean teacher like Snape, not that she was trying to turn this school into her own private playground.''
As the day progressed, Harry's words were undeniably confirmed. During class and on the corridors both, he was swarmed by people who all tried their hardest to make it known that they were on his side: against Umbridge and against the Ministry's attempts to hide their mistakes. It worked in Harry's favour that Umbridge's newspaper ban went hand-in-hand with an attempt to purge all copies that were currently in the castle, a mighty task as over half of the students had a subscription and pretty much every person had read yesterday's issue. As this was a whole castle of often lazy and messy teenagers, most students actually still had a pile of old prophets stashed away. It backfired completely on Umbridge as everyone tried to hide and salvage whatever they could, reading everything again in the process as she could hardly erase everyone's memories - for now.
By the end of the day, not only was everyone quoting parts of Harry's interview and discussing the latest article, the connection between this and previous Ministry cover-ups had also been picked up. Cedric was approached more than once to elaborate on the hospital situation even though it was a topic that had not turned many heads before, and Harry even saw a line of students trickling to Hagrid's hut. Probation or not, as their Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Hagrid was the only one allowed to give information on creature rights in accordance to Decree twenty-six and could thus say his piece about the first wave of critical articles. He must have done so enthusiastically, as by dinner, conversations flared up about how badly the Ministry had handled it, giving more details about each involved species than had even been in the newspapers.
Harry, Ron and Hermione showed their appreciation by showing up at Hagrid's doorstep under the invisibility cloak shortly before dinner, promising him that most students they knew had his back. It had been a while since they'd seen the Half-Giant outside of class, Hagrid was paranoid that he'd really lose his job when seen the three of them after class hours. They thus downed the offered tea quickly, gave the man another thumbs up to lift his spirits and left in a hurry again.
Throughout all of the chaos, Umbridge was walking around head held up high as if she'd won. In a way, she had: her goal of putting her claws into more and more Hogwarts affairs was working splendidly. However, she either did not want to see or did not care about the wave of hatred that she gained in return. It wasn't only Hagrid who was against her ban: other teachers like Sprout and McGonagall tried to covertly show their support as well, awarding points for ridiculous things Harry did, like catching a Ravenclaw girl who'd stumbled over her untied shoelaces just as McGonagall happened to walk by. The usually stern woman awarded him twenty points in a chipper tone for 'inter-house support and cooperation', which Harry knew to be a code word for 'sticking together in the face of tyranny'.''
Not wanting to lose too much time and finding it important to speak to the D.A. members about these new developments, Hermione called an emergency meeting. Unfortunately, Harry still wasn't off the hook with the toad and he headed for her office. After another few gruelling hours of having to scratch into his own skin, which thankfully did not take up the entire evening this time as she apparently had other matters to handle still, Harry rushed to the room of Requirement in hopes of still being able to participate in the last hour before curfew. Ron saw him enter first and filled him in on the previous discussions. ''The only thing that we can't figure out is how she got this Decree so quick,'' he spoke. ''The first one, we've seen coming for a long time. But the anti-newspaper one? It was put up in the night, so not even a full day after she saw the article. How did she contact and convince Fudge so quickly?''
''With her time-turner, probably,'' Harry shrugged. ''During last evening, she was writing a whole bunch of letters. I imagine that she went back into time as much as possible to post them. While it would have been too late to stop the Prophet from publishing this article as she had a twenty-four-hour limit, she could do some early damage control. If she dropped a letter by Fudge's office the day before yesterday in which she warned that exposing us all to horrid news or whatever is bad for our education, you can bet that the Minister would sign her new Decree the moment that Prophet dropped onto his desk yesterday morning, as it would only have affirmed her statement. I'm only guessing as to what reasoning she used of course, but it probably was along those lines. She's used the 'protect innocent children from the bad outside world' rationalisation before. Wasn't that also how she even get this position?''
Hermione, who had spotted Harry as well and joined them, nodded along to his words. Her expression turned dark as she possibly word-by-word recalled Umbridge's original speech. ''I wonder why she waited till the evening for that…'' the girl mused.
''Can you go back in time while already back in time?'' Ron asked, to which Hermione shook her head.
''No, otherwise one could simply do that to bypass the magic that only allows for one full day. Time-turners go into statis as soon as they are used until the original point in time has been reached again. She could, however, have gone back in time a full day in the morning to reach out to people personally, waited for time to catch up, and then went back once again in the evening of that day to distribute letters if her first attempts hadn't worked. The risky part is that it meant three Umbridges would have been running around for a while. Using a time-turner is dangerous enough as is, so I don't know if she would have done that.''
''What would be so dangerous about three versions running around versus two? Apart from the increased risk of 'seeing yourself and maybe attacking your future or past self' as you've explained before,'' Harry asked.
Hermione bit her lip. ''Pretty bad stuff. Memories of past and present selves merging incorrectly, magic being siphoned off when getting too close to one of your versions, even creating local time loops and distortions if done more often on one place. I received a whole list of instructions when I was granted use of a time-turner. Maximally using it once per day, never seeing myself and avoiding walking by closer than ten yards of my past self, scheduling the uses so that I did not excessively turn back time in one spot… I somehow don't think Umbridge is someone who uses it responsibly…
''So we have to destroy her time-turner then!'' Ron enthusiastically spoke. ''That would be a start, right?''
''As Undersecretary of the Ministry, she'll just ask for a new one,'' Harry glumly reasoned. ''They're issued by the Ministry, so that would not be a smart move. It would only let her know that we're onto her little secret and thus make us lose an advantage. By this point, everything short of destroying every time-turner in the Ministry won't help us,'' he spoke, giving a humourless laugh. ''And that's impossible even for us. Not even sure where they're created or kept.''
''A place called the Department of Mysteries,'' Hermione readily said, eager to share her knowledge. ''I naturally looked into time-turners when I received one. There was hardly anything to be found on the topic of creating them - it's a well-guarded secret -, but that fascinating Department came up a few times. Without details, sadly. I suppose it is not called a mystery for nothing.''
''I've heard about that!'' Ron exclaimed. ''Dad said that the employees there are not allowed to say a word about their work, so they're called 'Unspeakables'. Only the high bosses know what goes on there. Rumour has it that they try to research various magical topics and invent new stuff. It makes sense that something advanced and valuable like time-turners is created there.''
Harry had also heard of that department before, but kept his mouth shut. The image of the large stone room with the ominous arch swam in his mind's eye. Having never read a word about this department, it would be odd for him to know that they researched even death magic there. Why did every conversation he have always somehow link back to this topic?
''Harry!''
He nearly jumped up in joy when he was saved from more uncomfortable memories by Seamus, who beelined towards him.
''Harry,'' Seamus spoke again, now in a gruff voice. He stopped shortly in front of Harry with crossed arms. The way that he swayed a bit back and forth on the balls of his feet betrayed that he was trying to cover up some nerves by overcompensating on his stance. ''I… I just wanted to let you know… my mum believes you now.''
Harry scratched his head. ''Uhhh... okay. Good?'' he said, trying to rake his memory for any instance where Seamus' mum hadn't believed him. Then, it hit Harry. On the very first day of school, Seamus had tried to start an argument, which Harry had quickly shot down by declaring that he did not share Dumbledore's views and ignoring Seamus for the rest of that evening as he'd been too tired to deal with any drama on the first school day. His dorm mate had not given Harry any real grief afterwards, and had even come along to the first D.A. meeting, prompted by the fact that every other Gryffindor student of their year was going, even the girls. Over the months, Harry had forgotten about Seamus even having had a problem with him in the first place. ''What part does she believe, exactly?'' he asked.
Seamus pulled a bunch of Prophets out of his bag and held the latest one up. ''She finds it great that you can finally speak out about such a large problem in our community. To be honest, she'd been really afraid to tell dad that she was a witch, and she only confessed after she'd married. I didn't know about this up until a while ago, but dad wasn't very happy when it turned out that I was magical as well. Never showed it towards me, thankfully, but my parents definitely went through some bumpy phases where my mum wasn't sure if he'd stay or not. This article really shocked her, because it… it hit quite close to home. If dad had been a bit more like these other Muggles… or if my mum wouldn't have been there and I'd been raised only by Muggles…'' Seamus made a helpless gesture. ''So yeah, I fully support your idea of making sure that non-magical parents have a system of support and information to back on. It's nuts that there isn't yet. It also made her reconsider her stance on believing you about Death Eater activity and such. I as well was still sceptical about Professor Moody really having been a follower of You-Know-Who… But sometimes crazy things just happen, I guess.''
Happy that his interview with the Prophet was already having an effect on people outside of Hogwarts, he accepted the pat on his shoulder from his dorm mate. ''Glad your family is on board,'' he simply commented. ''To have any sort of influence however, we first must focus on combatting Umbridge. With her banning the Prophet, she's the bigger problem for us right now than anything waiting out there, be it Muggles or Death Eaters.''
More people in the room had seen that Harry was there now and had stopped their practise, either coming closer to hear what was going on or simply standing there in wait of instructions. On his request, all people present quickly gathered round. His suggestion to go over some Herbology fell on deaf ears, and everyone instantly launched into voicing their thoughts on the latest Decrees and the article. Harry sighed, resigned, and did his best to listen to everyone instead of once more giving his own version, only answering direct questions about the interview. Even when the last people -the Slytherins- finally felt comfortable enough to join in with the rest, the discussion showed no signs of slowing down despite a lot of people here often not wanting to speak to them. Terry wished for Harry to say more about the Dursleys, whereas Cho was more interested in his ideas on how to solve the current issues. At long last, Harry really had enough.
''Guys, this is not what we are here for!'' he forcefully spoke, giving everyone a harsh look. ''I said my piece on this, I tried to answer your questions right now, but that'll have to be it! There are some things that we can't change while at school. All of these matters: creature rights, fraud, mistreatment… they're all relevant, but not right now for us. Cedric and I both helped shed light on these topics, we lent our voice as Champions, and now it's up to others to fix it. We have nil influence on the actions of politicians while we're still students. We can't vote, we don't have access to the Wizengamot. It's out of our hands, do you understand?''
''So why this? Why speak up in the first place?'' Colin asked, rightfully angry.
Harry started pacing back and forth. ''For a number of reasons. We realised that, deserved or not, our voices matter. The Prophet purposefully sought Triwizard Champions out to ask about causes we care about. If they'd published anything anti-Ministry without that, it would have been easier to cover up again as Fudge could have simply dismissed the reporters for being biased or whatever. Coming from the mouths of teens and then backed up with evidence, made for a much stronger argument. Also, I knew that it would tremendously throw Umbridge off, so that was a huge plus for me. She is the only arm of the Ministry that we can reach. It's our duty to ensure this castle gets taken back and doesn't see political influence anymore. So, I want to focus on that. Defy her, roll back the ridiculous rules she's made us put up with, fight against her intended separation of the houses. Once we get rid of her, we can start thinking about the bigger picture. Until then, Umbridge will shut down any of our attempts to reach the outside world. Post is already being controlled, she has the fireplaces under her watchful eye and her banning me from Hogsmeade trips to prevent me from contacting the Prophet again, will likely extend to anyone else who tries the same.''
''Like all other teachers, she won't last longer than a year though,'' Draco spoke up.
''Do you want to wait six more months to see what else she can do to make our lives more difficult?'' Harry challenged the Slytherin. ''I don't. We'll need plans and a more organised network than we have now. We're only thirty-nine people. If we want to have any real influence, more people need to be made aware of our underground battle. I know what I said before about being careful and staying undercover, but I've realised that Umbridge has only just started. We need support to weather what's to come.''
''The reactions to Harry's interview today were promising,'' Hermione took over. ''And these last two Decrees went too far. A lot more people might be open to joining us.''
''We signed a secrecy contract though, how are we supposed to advertise?'' Ginny pointed out. ''Besides that, there's some negative points about getting more members. It means more risk of exposure, and new students would have to somehow catch up to all the spells we've learned so far!''
''Not necessarily,'' Harry shrugged. ''It was their loss that they weren't part of the first group. I try to teach new spells of various fields each month, I suggest that we all scout for possible new trustworthy members in the coming weeks, and once they're here, simply start a new topic. Sure, they won't know some of the spells that we've all practised before, but I don't want to hold the rest of you back, and they'll still be able to learn extracurricular magic, plus join in our homework sessions. Regarding the secrecy spells, just bring them to this room without explicitly saying what it's for other than 'a way to defy Umbridge's rules'. If they don't agree in the end to what we're doing, Hermione can use her secrecy line again.''
Cedric cleared his throat, drawing attention to himself. ''While I agree with your reasoning, Harry, I do think that we'll have to consider whether we can handle having more members in the first place. Depending on how many others join, it will be a massive task to properly teach everyone. This group is indeed also about escaping Professor Umbridge's rules, but we should not lose focus on that the D.A.'s true intent is to counter her inept teaching. We are a study group first and foremost. Unless we can convince some more students in higher years, to have more teaching staff, we can forget about inviting a slew of new members. Practicality first.''
Harry clacked his tongue in displeasure. He really wanted to just go all out and create a massive force that would drive the horrid woman out of Hogwarts screaming. Cedric did have a point though. ''Alright, maybe our current older members should go on a lookout for new blood first?'' he suggested, looking at Cedric, Adrian, Alicia, the Twins, Lee and Angelina, who were all in their seventh year.
''I could maybe check if Davies is interested,'' Angelina pondered. ''He's in seventh year as well and Quidditch captain like me. We hang out occasionally to talk about sports, he's a decent guy.''
Harry remembered him, both from matches and from the Yule ball. Fleur hadn't especially liked having Davies as a date, but the Ravenclaw had at least been able to overcome her charm enough to not act like a stuttering idiot, and it also showed that he hadn't cared about her 'mixed' status. He might be a good ally to have against Umbridge, who had detested Fleur for that very reason.
''Good call. Anyone else?''
''Warrington was interested in you before.'' Adrian said.
At the name, both Daphne and Astoria scrunched their noses, yet didn't say anything. Finding the reaction odd, Harry asked about it. The sisters looked at each other, until Daphne said: ''He's not exactly a gentleman, if you know what I mean,'' with a strained smile. ''If Warrington comes to this place, both Astoria and I are leaving, and I can guarantee that no other female student from Slytherin will join. Adrian, how about trying to ask Ursa Saeth? As the Head Girl, she could execute influence over other students and teach. She may be a bit… frosty, but she's fair and not openly against inter-house connections.''
Adrian grumbled a bit under his breath. ''I don't know,'' he admitted, red creeping on his face. ''She is not very approachable.'' At this, a few of the Slytherins exchanged amused looks. Seeing the direction in which this was heading, Harry decided:
''I never had an issue with Saeth. If Adrian doesn't feel comfortable asking, how about Draco does so? He is a Prefect, she might listen to him as well despite being younger.''
The blond agreed, and they went back to brainstorming for a short while until Harry found that they'd already used enough time talking. Curfew was approaching fast. ''Who wants to blow some shit up and let out steam?'' he finally exclaimed, drawing his wand to give a demonstration. Under loud cheering, he rolled up his sleeves and walked to the targets to show just how effective a cannon curse could be. This one was for Barty, who loved explosive spells.
Tap, tap tap.
Fingers stilled mid-air as Voldemort realised what he was doing, and after a quick analysis, the man realised that he felt nervous of all things. Growling under his breath, he tried to dispel the feeling. He was a Dark Lord, and in this office, he was the boss. There was no need at all to be jittery, no matter whom he'd have to speak to.
Despite that very rational thought, he glared a hole into his calendar. A few more minutes… He hoped that the other would be late, so he could feel better about himself and would be able to belittle-
A short rapping sounded. His secretary opened the door and stuck their head through the opening. ''Are you ready for the next appointment, Sir?''
Voldemort smoothed the few crinkles in the otherwise pristine notebook in front of him and dipped a quill into ink just to have something in his hands. How long had it been that they'd been face-to-face? Decades, surely. While inhabiting Quirrel's head, he'd never directly interacted with another human being apart from Harry at the very end. ''Bring him in,'' he spoke, trying not to sound too unfriendly. The door opening widened to let his visitor through.
Voldemort fought the urge to grab his wand and hurl a Killing curse through the office when a high-heeled boot with silver clasps stepped over the threshold, followed by the rest of Dumbledore.
''David, it has been such a long time,'' the Headmaster greeted with a smile. Voldemort had an even harder time keeping himself from grimacing. What was it with Dumbledore's insistence on being so impolite to use the first name of every student he'd ever had? ''I admit that I hadn't expected your career to be so glowing when seeing your N.E.W.T. results.''
Voldemort forced his lips to form into a polite smile. ''Thankfully, this job requires more than magical proficiency. The only transfiguration I need to perform nowadays is turning words into a good story,'' he replied. One of the annoyances of playing Noctua was exactly what Dumbledore had just pointed out. The head editor of the Daily Prophet had never been a strong wizard. While decent at his job, Noctua hadn't received the best grades at Hogwarts and hadn't even very strong-willed either, pushed around by the Ministry and his own staff quite often. Voldemort had naturally mended the latter parts, but he could not suddenly claim that this change in attitude granted him more magical power. So, he had to play an average wizard while in this office. Another reason why he preferred working in the field or at home. ''I was surprised upon receiving your letter to say the least, Professor,'' he spoke, wanting to get this conversation over and done with as quickly as possible. ''You never were a fan of the press, as far as I can recall.''
''No, I wasn't,'' Dumbledore sighed, sitting down even though he hadn't been invited to do so. From his out-of-fashion shoes to the pointed, purple hat, he looked incredibly out of place in the prim office. At Hogwarts, the eccentric look fit among the many ancient artefacts and odd instruments. Here, in Voldemort's quite impersonal working space, which lacked any chaos or oddities, it was as if someone had cut out the figure of a children's book and glued it into a newspaper. He tore his eyes away from the outfit and finally looked into bright, blue eyes to concentrate on what the other was saying: ''The delightful articles in your paper labelling me as senile and insane didn't give me a very positive image of the press,'' Dumbledore remarked with a disturbingly cheery voice, ''nor your reluctance to print anything regarding news of Voldemort having returned.''
Knowing exactly what reaction his own name provoked, Voldemort acted his part to a T, snapping the quill in half and blubbering something incomprehensible. He hated having to do so, but it was also oddly satisfying to witness Dumbledore's concerned frown. ''There is not a single scrap of evidence that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back,'' Voldemort bit. ''His followers maybe, as was accurately and appropriately reported. The delusional ramblings of an ancient Death Eater are not enough to make grand claims about the darkest wizard to have ever lived being risen from the dead! It is ludicrous!''
''I also gave my statement about Barty Crouch Junior having been spotted, as well as my opinion on Pettigrew showing up at the Auror office,'' the old man insisted calmly, as if he wasn't being shouted at. ''Besides that, there have been several mysterious disappearances…''
''There were no official witnesses, nor a trial for either of the people you mentioned. You will not be able to convince me to write about this. If that was all, Professor…?''
Dumbledore released a soft, possibly frustrated, noise, and shook his head slowly. ''That was not what I came here for at all. Granted, I was not the greatest fan of your work before, but have been keeping a close eye on your interesting newest articles these past months. Cornelius isn't very happy with you at the moment, I imagine… I, however, am very much so.''
The astonishment in the Dark Lord's voice did not need to be acted out when he asked: ''You are?'' Of all people he'd expected support from after releasing that last article… Dumbledore had not been on that list. He'd been the one to decide on leaving a baby with Muggles for no other reason than that they'd been family. Sure, the old man had tried to justify it with a vague theory about the blood sacrifice maybe being able to protect Harry through Lily Potter's sister, but Voldemort still fully believed that that had only come secondary in the man's considerations. Dumbledore had also been the one pushing for more accommodation towards Muggleborns for ages. Everything that Voldemort wished to achieve went against what the old goat wanted! So why?
''You have shown that instead of continuing to prey on innocent people to milk out stories, you went into a direction to show support for the downtrodden. Your research has set a precedent for many to follow. In the end, victims of cover-up schemes even managed to get some justice… perhaps not in the way that I agree to, with this vigilante group popping up, but that is not your fault. Truth be told, Cornelius stuck his head in the sand so often that he deserves losing an ally in the press. Seeing it all come to light is refreshing. Even I hadn't heard about any of this.''
''Surely you heard of some,'' Voldemort spoke frostily, not giving a damn about the raised eyebrows that reaction earned. ''Mr Potter specifically asked me to leave your name out of the last article to not shift the focus and intention of the issue at hand, but I know who caused him to land in that situation. That he had to stay there.''
''Ah, I see,'' the old fool only said, steepling his fingers together. ''I cannot say much about Mr Potter's situation, other than that I had more reasons to give him to his family than merely the fact that they were Muggles. I could have never imagined the degree of cruelty he was met with and it pains me that-''
''So will you remove him from that house?'' Voldemort brusquely interrupted. Something dangerous was happening, he realised too late. His chest felt oddly constricted and red spots danced in his vision. A surge of anger that he hadn't felt in a long time consumed him. It was different from the usual, ever-present need for death and violence that was a cold gnawing at his bones. It was also very different from when he blew up in frustration about the incompetence other people. No, he wished to unleash white-hot rage onto the wrinkled face that he hadn't needed to see for dozens of years, wanted to melt the skin off and pummel it with his bare fists into an unrecognisable mess.
He didn't. It would bring forth too many questions if the corpse of Albus Dumbledore was found here under mysterious circumstances. The want to wipe this stain off the earth increased tenfold though, when the reply was a simple: ''I can't.''
''You read the second page yesterday?'' he asked through gnashed teeth.
''Regretfully. Still, I can't. For reasons that I cannot disclose for Harry's own safety, he needs to return to that house, to his family. The alternative is unthinkably worse. However, I did not visit you to speak about Harry either, or discuss this latest article. I am far more here with information for a possible new story that will rattle the public. There are… some problems at Hogwarts that concerned parents need to hear of.''
It took Voldemort a while to calm down, but that did not mean that he was any less attentive towards Dumbledore's words. As soon as they'd left the Headmaster's mouth, the Dark Lord opened the upper drawer of his desk and plucked an envelope from it. He held it up in the air between two fingers, the pink paper gleaming in the light. ''The problem of Dolores Umbridge?'' he asked, having a good idea in which direction this conversation would go.
Water sloshed over cold stone, washing his feet clean of any sticky blood that may have still been smeared on them. Voldemort knelt down, uncaring about his robes getting wet as he lowered himself into one of the pools. These hadn't always been here, or at least not so deep. Slowly, he came to the awareness that he must be dreaming. Odd that the image created of the Chamber of Secrets was one that he'd seen in Harry's mind instead of with his own eyes. It wasn't even Harry's dream, the teen hadn't arrived yet. He let himself float, gazing at the intricate details on the ceiling. Intertwined, carved snakes spanned the entire Chamber and curled around the towering pillars in each of the four corners. The green light that filled the room reflected from the water to the stone, creating a clever illusion of the entire ceiling moving. He wished that the Basilisk would be here too, but it looked like he'd accepted its death. At least there was no carcass.
The feel of weightlessness was something he very much liked about dreams. Life was burdened with duties and other people. Here, at least for a while, he could let himself relax, float away. The only person he ever spoke to during the night was allowed to be there. Voldemort took a few more moments to enjoy the silence before rising out of the water and drying his clothes again. It wouldn't do to look like a drowned corpse, and he was the first to admit that his body was not very flattering when wet fabric showed the outline of each bone. When ready, the Dark Lord conjured a throne and sat down. Concentrating, he let all mental barriers fall away and reached out until connecting to the presence that he'd extended an invitation towards. It had been a while again, a bit more than a week. He'd been too busy with organisation and the Hand of Magic to sleep regularly at night in the past days.
''Not exactly a stimulating learning environment,'' an amused voice spoke as Harry materialised in the middle of the Chamber. The teen looked as he always did in these dreams, just as Voldemort knew he himself had a different appearance. The blue robes complimented Harry's complexion, and the curse scar was more strikingly visible, less a sowilo rune and more an image of an actual lightning bolt that spread its branches all over one cheek, down to the chin. The Gryffindor looked around with a strange expression. ''Hadn't thought I'd ever see this place again. Are you trying to scare me for some reason?''
''I happen to be fond of this place,'' he simply stated, leaning forwards, extending a hand.
Harry did not react to the gesture, instead crossing his arms and gazing at the statue of Salazar Slytherin. His tone was harsher when speaking again. ''I'm not. You realise that I almost died here? Annoyingly, I have to be truly grateful towards Dumbledore for this moment in time. Had he not sent Fawkes… I wouldn't be here anymore.''
Having had enough of Dumbledore for the next fifty years at least, the name grated on Voldemort's nerves, yet the words also made him think. He'd seen parts of what had transpired here in Harry's mind, yet had not bothered to register more details than Harry destroying the diary and killing his precious Basilisk three years ago. Now, he tried to form a less biased view, recalling the memory again in more detail. The Horcruxes were dangerous, and the diary-horcrux had opened the Chamber again, lured Harry down here and made the Basilisk fight the boy…
Suddenly, he wasn't getting enough air. A Basilisk fang had been enough to destroy the diary. The king of serpents had bitten the stubborn Gryffindor before that. If its venom had spread without being cured… ''It was between you and him, wasn't it?'' he reasoned, cursing that he hadn't seen that sooner, focusing so much anger on the boy about the destruction of the diary instead as he hadn't known that Harry also was a Horcrux. Thinking back on it, one piece of soul would have been lost one way or the other during that struggle. ''Why did you go after it and descended into this Chamber?'' he demanded to know, trying to find a way to pin the blame on Harry instead of himself. ''You must have known the dangers!''
''That was three years ago, does it matter?''
Anger further rose at the dismissal. ''We are talking about my soul here, and your life! Yes, it matters!''
Infuriatingly, Harry shrugged and sat down on the floor to stare at one of the snake statues. ''It tried to kill someone close to me, couldn't just let that happen. No one else was going to make a real effort either. I still put my faith in teachers back then actually. Yet when I wanted to give some vital information to the only one who declared that he would attempt to save Ginny, our Defence teacher Gilderoy Lockhart, Ron and I caught him packing up in a hurry. Hogwarts was going to close, my best friends' sister had been dragged down to the Chamber. Not a single person could give us something better than condolences before she was even dead. I knew I could get into the entrance, maybe me alone due to this Parseltongue ability. Of course I went.''
''You could have left again, as soon as you realised that I-''
Harry gave a menacing glare over his shoulder. ''I didn't even know that the diary had anything to do with it then, or that it was you! Only when I tried to take Ginny away and it interfered by revealing its plans, did I notice that I was in danger. Had it allowed me to leave, nothing would have happened, but no, your Horcrux found it necessary to get the basilisk on my tail! Now can we stop talking about this?''
Voldemort snarled and pushed himself out of the throne, towering over Harry. ''I don't think we have talked enough about this!
''If you think that was my fault, screw you!''
At the words, any thought of their careful new friendship flew out of the window. He hissed and dove towards the boy, hauling him to his feet and shoving him harshly into the stone statue. ''Don't talk to me like that!''
Harry only laughed mirthlessly. ''Oh, excuse me, my liege, do you suddenly not want me to speak my mind anymore?''
A twinge of discomfort went down his spine, and he carefully stepped away again. ''I'm not your liege anymore,'' he murmured, putting more distance between them. ''What is the matter with you? This is not… this is not how these meetings are supposed to go.'' No, Harry was supposed to be agreeable, look up to him, learn from their talks. It had gone so well these past few dreams, where he'd focused on teaching to prepare the teen for both his upcoming exams and for life after Hogwarts. Right now, Voldemort was entirely out of his depth, unable to understand what had happened to make Harry so hostile. Was it something he'd done and overlooked? Was this like one of those turning points that he'd completely missed with Regulus?
''You're not the only one who is afraid of death, you know,'' Harry finally replied, refusing to meet his eyes. ''I mean… I don't mind giving up my life for a good cause, theoretically. I don't freak out to my core when I think of that one day I must leave this earth. However, when I was here last time, that was the closest I ever got. My arm felt like it was on fire, everything was blurry already while I lay at the floor of this cursed Chamber.'' His voice dropped down to a mere whisper, and the often so carefree face crumpled into a grimace. ''I was so sure that I was done for. And you stood over me and watched me go with a smile.''
''Not me,'' he quietly tried to reason.
The Gryffindor made a jerking motion. ''It's odd. I know you don't even have memories of it as it was a piece of you that split off, but that does not change the reality of that it was still a version of you. One that would have killed me then and there, happily. Ever since you convinced me of your cause, I tried to forget about it…'' the whispers trailed off into a deafening silence, the Dark Lord being lost for words, which happened seldom enough to come as a shock. Knowing that Harry usually came closer when feeling distraught, Voldemort slowly approached again, taking a much smaller hand in his. Harry made a few odd noises, then grabbed onto his robes to bury his face in Voldemort's chest.
Long moments passed until Harry spoke again, with a much calmer, almost tired tone: ''I don't understand why it had to be you.''
''That I had to be what?'' he asked in frustration, unable to make sense of any of the teen's words and gestures without being able to analyse his magic and emotions at the same time. A revision of nonverbal communication was probably in order, he was slipping.
Arms snuck around his torso, which he allowed with a hint of discomfort. This wasn't right. During other dreams, he'd tried to focus on only teaching magic, keeping their relationship strictly professional so he wouldn't have to think about the meaning of all the unfamiliar feelings he got tangled up in during their last real-life visit. He wasn't any closer to answers now than he'd been back then. Life got in the way, and he'd had too little time for self-analyses. The few minutes he had to himself had been spent focusing on the positives of that day. The book that the teen had gifted him was already worn by now after barely more than a month.
''We need to talk. In person, not through a dream,'' he decided. Clearly, both of them trying to work through their conversation on their own hadn't worked. He felt further apart from Harry than ever, which he'd come to detest.
''I can't exactly slip away from Hogwarts without Umbridge noticing,'' the other protested.
''There should be a Hogsmeade weekend coming up.''
''She banned me from going to Hogsmeade recently, due to the article. Doesn't want me to have an opportunity to talk to the press again…''
Voldemort arched an eyebrow, gently taking Harry's chin to make the boy look at him. ''Excuses. It wouldn't be the first time that you sneak out while not allowed to, and unless someone actually spots you in Hogsmeade, which they won't, you'll be safe. Make your way outside of the castle wards and use the Portkey shortly after the other students leave. There is much we should speak of.'' Memories of Harry's skin burning beneath his lips pushed to the forefront, but instead he said: ''I am still trying to work out the details of my planned promotion for Barty, it's complicated now that he got into such a mess, which still hasn't been entirely cleared up. Also, Dumbledore paid my office a visit. Suggested some sort of alliance between Hogwarts and the Daily Prophet.''
''Oh wow,'' Harry commented, finally looking up again without needing to be persuaded to. ''That has got to be a weird feeling. On my part, I'd love to get your opinion on my newest plans for the D.A. We're expanding.''
''It's settled then. Now, to not waste the rest of this night, I suggest we get into our usual rhythm. We left off on the topic of transfigurative equations, did we not?'' Harry made an unenthusiastic noise. The Dark Lord could understand, as it wasn't the most fascinating piece of magical theory, but one that was absolutely necessary for higher transfiguration.
''Can you please change this dream to a less dreary place first?'' the other pleaded
''Somehow, I feel like our opinions on dreary couldn't be further apart,'' Voldemort chuckled. ''This room, the graveyard, the department of mysteries…'' The other threw him a sharp look for some reason, which he sadly had to ignore for now as time was running out. He snapped his fingers to make the Chamber around them dissolve into fog that whirled around and settled down into new shapes, forming the Hogwarts library. He grabbed the nearest book and opened it on a random page, knowing that it would show the diagram he wanted to explain before even seeing it.
Without giving Harry an opportunity to address any new topics, he launched into the lecture: ''So, as you must know from McGonagall's teachings, base transfiguration is influenced by variables such as body weight, viscosity, wand power, concentration and movement. While in your first years, formulas are largely ignored in favour of trial and error, there is an exact way to measure all of these and figure out the ideal combination. Most don't bother until N.E.W.T. level, but that does not mean that you should do the same. Also, substitute wand power with core power, it is better to rely on your own core magic than only the result of what you cast with a specific channeler. It would make it much more difficult to cast transfiguration with a new wand like that. Make your own power level the centre of this equation and adapt the other variables accordingly. Now, to measure this…''
The rest of the night passed far more peacefully than the start had, Voldemort concluded when he opened his eyes again, feeling well-rested and energetic. The prospect of seeing Harry in person again in ten days from now also lightened his mood. The house was empty apart from his familiar, so he quickly threw together some food, gave Nagini a bit of attention and activated the tattoos that spiralled across his right arm to slip into Noctua's skin. Ready for a new day full of schemes and possibilities.
As he walked into the office, people ran around frantically in a way that was abnormal even for his most zealous reporters. The regular urge to dish out some curses returned rather quickly upon noticing that his good mood wasn't shared by anyone here.
''Sir! Oh thank Merlin you are here, Sir,'' Belby spoke, running up to him, the few grey hairs the man had left sticking out. ''There's been a triple murder! Harry Potter's family was found dead thirty minutes ago!''
AN: So, lots of different scenes this chapter, I tried to make it a bit more compact but it eh... obviously didn't work.
Tell me your thougts of the new measures from Umbridge, the Noctua-Dumbledore alliance, the DA expanding and of course your speculations on the who offed the Dursleys! -spoiler, it was me, who is totally not sorry for the cliffhanger this time-
Please read and review!
xx GeMerope