Hello there, welcome my friends to the next chapter.

Hope you enjoy it.

Luna told vaguely that she did not know how soon Rita's interview with Claire would appear in The Quibbler, that her father was expecting a lovely long article on recent sightings of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, "And of course, that'll be a very important story, so it might have to wait for the following issue."

"Well we can't keep the story of the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks from the people." Claire said, "Now can we?"

It would either convince people of the truth or it would convince them that she was completely insane, not in the least because the story would be appearing alongside utter rubbish about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.

"Can't wait to see what Umbridge thinks of you going public." Neville said, sounding awestruck at dinner on Monday night.

Claire was shoveling down large amounts of chicken and ham pie with Harry next to her, "It was the right thing to do." Harry said, "It must have been... Tough... Talking about it... Was it?"

"I guess..." Claire said through her eating, "But people have got to know what Voldemort's capable of."

"And his Death Eaters, too..." Neville said nodding, "People should know..." he left his sentence hanging and returned to his baked potato.

"You want to talk about it?" Alex said.

"It was... Back during Voldemort's first fall, his most dangerous Death Eaters. They tried to torture information about his location out of them." Neville said, "I don't want to think what would have happened if Sephylon hadn't appeared."

They entered the Great Hall for breakfast at exactly the same moment as the post owls on Monday morning. Hermione was not the only person eagerly awaiting her Daily Prophet: nearly everyone was eager for more news about the escaped Death Eaters, who, despite many reported sightings, had still not been caught. She gave the delivery owl a Knut and unfolded the newspaper eagerly while Harry helped himself to orange juice.

"Claire, I think you got mail." Alex said, turning her attention to an owl in front of her. Leaning forwards to see the recipient's name and address:

Claire Kent

Great Hall

Hogwarts School

Frowning, she made to take the letter from the owl, but before he could do so, three, four, five more owls had fluttered down beside it and were jockeying for position, treading in the butter and knocking over the salt as each one attempted to give him their letter first.

"Okay..." Claire said, "What's going on?" as the whole of Gryffindor table leaned forwards to watch and another seven owls landed among the first ones, screeching, hooting and flapping their wings.

"I think I know what this means..." Hermione said breathlessly, "Open this one first!" plunging her hands into the feathery mass and pulling out a screech owl bearing a long, cylindrical package.

Claire ripped off the brown packaging. Out rolled a tightly furled copy of the March edition of The Quibbler. She unrolled it to see her own face frowning at her from the front cover. In large red letters across this picture were the words:

Claire Kent Speak Out At Last:

The Real Truth About He Who Must Not Be Named

And The Night She Saw him Return

"It's good, isn't it?" Luna said suddenly, having seemingly appeared out of no where.

"Where did you come from!?" Alex said startled as Luna squeezed herself on to the bench between Alex and Ron.

"It came out yesterday, I asked Dad to send a free copy. I expect all these." she waved a hand at the assembled owls still scrabbling around on the table, "Are letters from readers."

"... And here I thought I finally had gotten my own fan club..." Claire said dryly, "Oh well." as they began to open letters.

"Tis one's from a bloke who thinks you are off your rockers." Alex said, glancing down a letter, "Oh well, can't win them all...", he crumbled it up and tossed it over his shoulder.

"This woman recommends you try a good course of Shock Spells at St Mungo's." Ron said, looking disappointed and crumpling up a second.

"This one looks okay, though." Harry said slowly scanning a long letter from a witch in Paisley, "Hey she says she believes you!"

"This one's in two minds." Fred said, who had joined in the letter-opening with enthusiasm, "Says you don't come across as a mad person, but he really doesn't want to believe You-Know-Who's back so he doesn't know what to think now. Blimey, what a waste of parchment."

"Here's another believer!" Neville said excitedly, "Having read your side of the story, I am forced to the conclusion that the Daily Prophet has treated you very unfairly... little though I want to think that He Who Must Not Be Named has returned, I am forced to accept that you are telling the truth... Oh, this is great!"

"Another one who thinks you are barking." Hermione said, throwing a crumpled letter over his shoulder, "...But this one says you have got him converted and he now thinks you're a real hero, he's put in a photograph too, wow!"

"I will be taking that." Harry said sternly, snatching the picture from Hermione before Claire could see it.

"What is going on here?" a falsely sweet, girlish voice said.

Claire looked up with her hands full of envelopes to see Umbridge standing behind Fred and Luna, her bulging toad's eyes scanning the mess of owls and letters on the table in front of Claire.

Behind her, she saw many of the students watching them avidly.

"Why have you got all these letters, Miss Kent?" she asked slowly.

"Is that a crime now?" Claire asked, "Getting mail?"

"Be careful, Miss Kent or I shall have to put you in detention." Umbridge said.

"Yeah, like I would actually show up for it." Claire said with a roll of her eyes, "People have written to me because we gave an interview. About what happened to me last June."

"An interview?" Umbridge repeated, her voice thinner and higher than ever, "What do you mean?"

"Well, Claire sat down with a reporter, who asked her questions and she answered them." Alex said as if explaining something basic to a toddler, "That's what basically what an interview is."

Claire threw the copy of The Quibbler to her. She caught it and stared down at the cover.

Her pale, doughy face turned an ugly, patchy violet, "When did you do this?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Let's see... Today is Monday." Claire said as if she was actually trying to remember, "Though it feels like a Wednesday"

"Wednesday doesn't have a feeling. I get feelings from a Wednesday, but that's beside the point." Alex said, "Friday has a feeling..."

"I guess..." Claire said, "The interview was last Hogsmeade weekend. I think."

She looked up at her, incandescent with rage, the magazine shaking in her stubby fingers, "There will be no more Hogsmeade trips for you." she whispered.

"And what is going to stop me?" Claire asked amused, "I don't think its a crime to tell my side of the story while Fudge has been slandering me all summer!"

"How you dare..." Umbridge growled, "Slander! How could you..."

"Hate to say it, Claire. But I'm with Umbridge on tis one. It's not slander." Alex pointed out, "Its writing, so its libel."

"Oh, right." Claire said turning from Alex to Umbridge, "My mistake."

She took a deep breath, "I have tried again and again to teach you not to tell lies. The message, apparently, has still not sunk in. A hundred points from Gryffindor and another week's worth of detentions." she stalked away, clutching The Quibbler to her chest, the eyes of many students following her, while Claire had a broad grin on her face, but her grey eyes had something of a wicked gleam in them.

By mid-morning, a enormous signs had been put up all over the school, not just on house noticeboards, but in the corridors and classrooms too.

By Order Of The High Inquisitor Of Hogwarts

Any student found in possession of the magazine

The Quibbler will be expelled.

The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven.

Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor

For some reason, every time Claire caught sight of one of these signs she had that same broad grin and wicked gleam in her eyes.

"Can you stop doing that? Your scaring people.", Harry said, as for the hundred time that day, his girlfriend got that smile, "Or at least explain why your so damn happy."

"Oh, nothing. It just went exactly as planned." Claire said, "I knew she would be furious about the interview, especially after I egged her own. But the worst thing she could do, to make absolutely sure that every single person in tis school will read the interview, is by banning it."

By the end of the day, Claire was proven right, never before had there been more of The Quibbler anywhere in the school, the whole place seemed to be quoting the interview to each other. Whispering about it could be heard as they queued up outside classes, discussing it over lunch and in the back of lessons, while Harry and Alex even reported that every occupant of the cubicles in the boys toilets had been talking about it.

"Then they spotted us, and obviously they know you and I are a couple, so they bombarded me with questions." Harry told Claire, "And I think they believe it, I really do. I think you have finally got them convinced!"

"Couldn't have done it without you." she said, holding his hand, "Thank you for believing in me."

Meanwhile, Umbridge was stalking the school, stopping students at random and demanding that they turn out their books and pockets: she was obviously looking for copies of The Quibbler, but the students were several steps ahead of her. The pages carrying the interview had been bewitched to resemble extracts from textbooks if anyone but themselves read it, or else wiped magically blank until they wanted to peruse it again. Soon it seemed that every single person in the school had read it.

The teachers were of course forbidden from mentioning the interview by Educational Decree Number Twenty-six, but they found ways to express their feelings about it all the same.

Professor Sprout awarded Gryffindor twenty points when Claire passed her a watering can; a beaming Professor Flitwick pressed a box of squeaking sugar mice on Claire at the end of Charms, said, "Shh!" and hurried away.

Professor Trelawney broke into hysterical sobs when Claire came across her and announced to the startled students, and a very disapproving Umbridge, that Claire would live to a ripe old age, become Minister for Magic and have twelve children.

"Sweet! Twelve nieces and or nephews to corrupt!" Alex said with a laugh, "Better get busy, Harry.", who had been smiling until she realized what he meant, earning him a angry glare.

Unbelievably, no sooner had they arrived outside Transfiguration, Seamus stepped out of the queue to face them.

"I just wanted to say..." he mumbled, squinting at Claire's left knee, "I believe you. And I have sent a copy of that magazine to me mam."

If anything could make this even more sweeter, than it was the reaction from Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. He saw them with their heads together later that afternoon in the library; they were with a weedy-looking boy Neville whispered was called Theodore Nott.

They looked round at Claire as she was lazily reading a book: Goyle cracked his knuckles threateningly and Malfoy whispered something undoubtedly malevolent to Crabbe.

Claire knew perfectly well why they were acting like this, she had named all of their fathers as Death Eaters.

"And the best part of it all, is they can't contradict us, because they can't admit they have read the article." Claire said with that same smile on her face as they left the library.

To cap it all, Luna told over dinner that no issue of The Quibbler had ever sold out faster.

"Dad's reprinting!" she told, her eyes popping excitedly, "He can't believe it, he says people seem even more interested in this than the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks!"

"Impossible!" Alex said, "Nothing is more interesting than the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks!"

Daringly, Fred and George had put an Enlargement Charm on the front cover of The Quibbler and hung it on the wall in the Gryffindor common room that night, so that Claire's giant head gazed down upon the proceedings, occasionally saying things like "The Ministry Are Morons!" and "Eat dung, Umbitch!" in a booming voice. Hermione did not find this very amusing, she said it interfered with her concentration, and she ended up going to bed early out of irritation.

When Alex came into the dormitory that night, he saw Harry entangled in the hangings of his bed, shouting, "NOOOOOOOOO!"

"Oh, come one!" Alex shouted as Harry woke up from his dream. Wrenching the hangings apart and Harry stared up at him in the moonlight, flat on his back.

"If I had a galleon for every time I found you acting like tis... I would have two galleons." Alex said pulling Harry up to his feet and the two sat back on his bed, "Which isn't a lot, but weird it happened twice now. So someone got attacked?"

"No... Everyone's fine... Well... Avery isn't... he's in trouble... he gave him the wrong information... Voldemort's really angry..." Harry groaned, "But Rookwood's going to help him now... He's on the right track again. He was with Rookwood, he's one of the Death Eaters who escaped from Azkaban, Rookwood's just told him Bode couldn't have done it.'

"Done what?" Alex asked.

"Remove something... he said Bode would have known he couldn't have done it... Bode was under the Imperius Curse... I think he said Malfoy's dad put it on him."

"Bode was bewitched to remove something?" Alex said, "That must have been the weapon intended to..."

The dormitory door opened; Dean and Seamus came in. Harry swung his legs back into bed. He did not want to look as though anything odd had just happened.

Harry and Alex waited until break next morning to tell Claire, Ron, Neville and Hermione exactly what had happened; they wanted to be absolutely sure they could not be overheard. Standing in their usual corner of the cool and breezy courtyard, Harry told them every detail of the dream he could remember.

"So that's why... Sturgis Podmore he was arrested for trying to get through a door. Maybe Lucius Malfoy must have got him." Claire said, "Sturgis had Moody's Invisibility Cloak, right? So, what if he was standing guard by the door, invisible, and Malfoy heard him move, or guessed someone was there, or just did the Imperius Curse on the off-chance there'd be a guard there? So, when Sturgis next had an opportunity, probably when it was his turn on guard duty again, he tried to get into the Department to steal the weapon for Voldemort, but he got caught and sent to Azkaban..."

Hermione gazed at Harry, "And now Rookwood's told Voldemort how to get the weapon?"

"I didn't hear all the conversation, but that's what it sounded like." Harry said, "Rookwood used to work there... Maybe Voldemort will send Rookwood to do it?"

Hermione nodded, apparently still lost in thought. Then, quite abruptly, she said, "But you shouldn't have seen this at all, Harry. You are supposed to be learning how to close your mind to this sort of thing.", suddenly stern.

"I know I am." Harry said, "But..."

"Well, I think we should just try and forget what you saw." Hermione said firmly, "And you ought to put in a bit more effort on your Occlumency from now on."

"Yeah, yeah." Harry said, "Who are you my mother?", he was so angry with Hermione he did not talk to her for the rest of the day.

The week did not improve as it progressed. Harry received two more 'Ds in Potions; he was still on tenterhooks that Hagrid might get the sack; and he couldn't stop himself dwelling on the dream in which he had been Voldemort. Though Claire advice him to not didn't bring it up with Hermione again, unless he wanted another telling-off.

"Charles." McGonagall said as she came across the Combat Professor, "Have you seen Albus? I could have sworn I had seen him near your supply closet?"

"Minerva, have you met the man?" Charles said with a laugh, "He's never been in a closet his entire life."

It was then that a woman's screamed from somewhere outside. Charles and McGonagall's head jerked towards the side, "What the?..." he muttered as a muffled commotion could be heard in the Entrance Hall.

"Let's hope it's not another Basilisk attack." McGonagall said.

The screams were indeed coming from the Entrance Hall, which was packed with students that came flooding out of the Great Hall, where dinner was still in progress, to see what was going on; others had crammed themselves on to the marble staircase.

Charles and McGonagall pushed forwards through a knot of tall Slytherins and saw that the onlookers had formed a great ring, some of them looking shocked, others even frightened.

McGonagall looked as though what she was watching made her feel faintly sick.

Professor Trelawney was standing in the middle of the Entrance Hall with her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other, looking utterly mad. Her hair was sticking up on end, her glasses were lopsided so that one eye was magnified more than the other; her innumerable shawls and scarves were trailing haphazardly from her shoulders, giving the impression that she was falling apart at the seams.

Two large trunks lay on the floor beside her, one of them upside-down, it looked very much as though it had been thrown down the stairs after her. Professor Trelawney was staring, apparently terrified, at something Claire could not see but which seemed to be standing at the foot of the stairs.

"No! NO! This cannot be happening... it cannot..." she shrieked, "I refuse to accept it!"

"You didn't realize this was coming?" a high girlish voice said, sounding callously amused, and Charles saw that Trelawney's terrifying vision was nothing other than Umbridge.

"Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrows weather, you must surely have realized that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable that you would be sacked?"

"You c-can't!" Professor Trelawney howled, tears streaming down her face from behind her enormous lenses, "You c-can't sack me! I've b-been here sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home!"

"It was your home." Umbridge said, and Charles was revolted to see the enjoyment stretching her toad like face as he watched Professor Trelawney sink, sobbing uncontrollably, on to one of her trunks, "Until an hour ago, when the Minister for Magic: countersigned your Order of Dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this Hall. You are embarrassing us."

But she stood and watched, with an expression of gloating enjoyment, as Professor Trelawney shuddered and moaned, rocking backwards and forwards on her trunk in paroxysms of grief. Charles heard a muffled sob to his left and looked around. Lavender and Parvati were both crying quietly, their arms round each other. Then she heard footsteps.

McGonagall had broken away from the spectators, marched straight up to Trelawney and McGonagall withdrawing a large handkerchief from within her robes.

"There, there, Sybill. Calm down, it's not as bad as you think." McGonagall said patting her firmly on the back, "You are not going to have to leave Hogwarts..."

"Oh really, Minerva?" Umbridge said in a deadly voice, taking a few steps forward only to stop in her tracks when Charles himself stepped out of the circle of spectators.

"Where you dropped as a baby Dolores?" Charles said eerily calm as he stared her down, "Did your parents not love you?"

"I beg your pardon?" Umbridge said.

"Beg all you want, you haggard goblin. I'm just getting started." Charles said deadly, "If you where my baby I would left you on a doorstep... No offence, Harry. I didn't want to leave you." gesturing to Harry in the crowd.

"Thanks professor." Harry said, "That's really nice."

"Charles!" Umbridge said.

"You keep my pretty name out of your mouth!" Charles said furiously, "You petulant prawn!"

"Why?" Umbridge said, "Just because I wear pink?"

"Mostly because your a low-life bottom feeder with a miniscule brain." Jeager said with a nod, "But yeah, that too."

"Well your clothes are..."

"Fabulous and stylish." Jeager cut her off, gesturing to his blazer, "Do you see tis velvet coat? Hand made and tailored to me."

Amazed and impressed by the verbal beatdown their favorite teacher was giving to their least favorite. Claire leaned into Harry, "Tis isn't really happening. Is it?" she said, not looking away, "It sounds too good to be true."

"Quiet." Harry said, placing a finger to his lips, not looking away either, "This is brilliant."

"You don't turn up at my school and start cutting my children!" Charles shouted, suddenly becoming enraged, "I will shove those quills where the sun doesn't shine!"

"I have spoken to Cornelius..." Umbridge began.

"Again with the Fudge thirst! It embarrassing!" Charles said exasperated as he threw up his arms, "I have spoken to him and he would rather spend a romantic night in with Voldemort! And he's a homicidal maniac with no nose!"

A gasp went through the spectators at the mere casual mention of the Dark Lords name, though most couldn't believe it how angry their usually rather silly Combat Professor was getting.

"You are a spiteful slug and nobody wants to spend any time in your vicinity." Charles said, "Secreting your evil all over our castle. It's no wonder Filch follows you around with a mop!"

Umbridge was standing stock still, staring at Charles when a deep voice said, "That's enough Charles."

The oaken front doors had swung open. Students beside them scuttled out of the way as Dumbledore appeared in the entrance.

"Oh, I was just getting started." Charles muttered annoyed.

Leaving the doors wide open behind him he strode forwards through the circle of onlookers towards Trelawney, tear-stained and trembling, on her trunk and McGonagall alongside her.

It was only when Dumbledore turned to talk to her, that Umbridge got out of where her mind went after the verbal curb stomp she had endured from Charles.

"Professor Umbridge, as High Inquisitor you have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle." Dumbledore went on, with a courteous little bow, "I am afraid that the power to do that still resides with the Headmaster, and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continue to live at Hogwarts."

At this, Professor Trelawney gave a wild little laugh in which a hiccough was barely hidden, "No, no, I'll g-go, Dumbledore! I sh-shall leave Hogwarts and s-seek my fortune elsewhere..."

"No. It is my wish that you remain, Sybill." Dumbledore said sharply, he turned to McGonagall, "Might I ask you to escort Sybill back upstairs?"

"Of course." McGonagall said, "Up you get, Sybill..."

She held up her wand and said, "Locomotor trunks." and Professor Trelawney's luggage rose into the air and proceeded up the staircase after them as she and McGonagall guided her past Umbridge and up the marble stairs.

"Someone be so polite as to fetch Madame Pomfrey." Snape said, having watched Charles go on against the one person universally disliked at the school, "Because Dolores got, as the youth say, burned."

"Burned?" Flitwick scoffed, "That was a first decree murder."

"And yet no one would convict him." Fleur said with a smile at her man.

And that is, hope you enjoyed.

Many thanks to everyone who reads, favorite, follows or reviews this chapter. If you enjoy my work, don't forget to leave a review and I hope to see you beauties next time.

Mischief Managed.