I own nothing.
The Two Princes of Hogwarts
-Chapter Three:
"All of your high-minded ideals. All of policing by the book. Where has it brought you, Shack? It's brought you back to me."
"Shut up Sal," Kingsley stated as he sipped his cognac. It was worth more than his paycheck to ask when the man had developed a taste in good liquor.
"Let me have my moment!" Sal whined. They sat in silence for a moment and Kingsley took a nice sip from his glass.
"Did you have it?"
"Yes. It was a very nice moment. Thank you for asking," Sal said happily.
"Good, can we stop pretending that I'm here to see you, then?"
"That's just mean Shack," the older man grumbled. "You might hurt my feelings."
"You don't have feelings," Kingsley countered.
"I absolutely do!" Sal replied. "It's just that I only have one at a time and it's usually about what's going to happen. That's the whole reason I allowed you in here." Kingsley grunted non-committedly. "So, you've got a feeling." Kingsley nodded. "You still always right?"
"Nobody's always right," Kingsley stated.
"You been wrong yet?"
"First time for everything."
"You've started circle talking like politicians," Sal grumbled. "Don't. You aren't one of them. Not yet, at least." Kingsley sipped his drink again. "Why would they show up tonight? It's their first night. I doubt it's even possible for them to have gotten up to something."
"They killed that last basilisk their first night," Kingsley pointed out. Sal's face twisted comedically. "You didn't know?
"I guess it took them a day or two to get organized and come to me," Sal mumbled. "Merlin, their first night? Wow."
"Potter was apparently attacked by Dementors in his third year before he even got off the train," Kingsley commented, "and his second year he was blocked from even entering the platform by unknown means."
"I didn't know that was possible," Sal stated.
"It's not. That's why the means are unknown," Kingsley explained.
"God damn," Sal said as he sipped his drink. "I know that it's all kinds of awful, but it really is kind of impressive how much shit he can get into. You don't want to know the kinds of things I had to do before somebody tried to kill me for the first time."
"Was it opening your mouth?" Kingsley asked. Said mouth shot open to deliver some cutting remark, but it snapped shut and his head angled towards the front of the shop.
"Sal!"
"In back!" Sal called. He picked up the bottle and filled the four empty glasses on the counter as the four students Kingsley had been waiting for appeared from the aisles like ghosts.
"Shacklebolt," Harry stated.
"Potter," Kingsley returned, lifting his glass. "Weasley, Granger, Lovegood. In no particular order." The students had frozen and Kingsley caught them shooting a look at Sal. The older man shrugged. "Oh, don't worry. I'm here about something a little more important than truancy and the contribution to it."
"We are not truant," Hermione announced. "We have a pass."
"Bullshit," Sal gasped, as Kingsley sputtered in shock.
"We do," Hermione insisted as she rooted about in her bag and retrieved a slip of parchment. Kingsley snatched it up and Sal lunged over to the counter to read it over his shoulder.
"This is from Minnie," the older man gasped.
"She didn't put a date on it," Kingsley added in shock.
"Nope," Hermione replied smugly before becoming deathly serious. "Now hand it over carefully or I will confiscate fingers. That thing is osmium." Kinglsey carefully folded the note back up and handed it to the girl. She didn't have to ask twice. He had been a student once and fully understood just what they had. It just didn't seem right for a vetted, veteran auror to do anything about such a treasure. It was. . .wrong.
"That from when she was spying on you?" Sal asked. "She was probably a little distracted."
"Tonks," Kinglsey added. It never hurt to give up a little harmless intelligence to grease the wheels. Amelia was a little beyond spying on the students at this point. "As a favor to the fake Mad Eye and a test of her abilities, an auror called Nymphadora Tonks was sent to spy on you. She was my trainee and a metamorphmagus. I think she's your godfather's second cousin, probably one of only two family members he would talk to, her and her mom." Kingsley frowned at his own words.
Tonks was younger than most and more than friendly enough. It wouldn't be weird for her to make friends with her redeemed cousin and, by extension, the last Potter.
Thoughts for later.
"I see. So, now that we have all learned that we are allowed to be here," Harry began as he led the group to the counter and took up his drink with a challenging quirked eyebrow. Kingsley shrugged and help up his glass. All present tapped their glasses together.
"Well, not to be too Hufflepuff, but to good friends and new friends," he stated. Everyone nodded and sipped their drinks. "You lot can call me Shack. I have a feeling we're about to get a lot closer than we should."
"Alright Shack," Ron started, "I kind of got the feeling that Sal was excommunicate with current aurors, especially the notably good ones like you," Kingsley and Sal nodded to acknowledge the point, "so, you're here for us."
"Potter specifically," Kingsley admitted. There was no point in hiding it. "Albus Dumbledore showed up at the Bones manor right after dinner to offer his services and connections to my boss in tracking down what happened to your cousin. This came as something of a shock to us because the profile we have on you shows a rather strict aversion to authority and seeking help outside your friend group."
"You have a profile on Harry?" Hermione demanded.
"We have profiles on all of you now," Kingsley said, "including Diggory. Call it curiosity when we found out about the things you lot like to involve yourselves with."
"We do not involve ourselves. Others involve us," Luna chirped. The other three student nodded solemnly.
"Say it however you want, you kids have a bad pastime and we would like to get involved before it comes to schoolkids fighting for their live all alone," Kinsley replied.
"So, this is a rare moment in my life, but I have no idea what's going on," Sal commented. "Somebody want to explain Harry's cousin?"
"A dementor kissed him in Little Whinging," Harry said flatly. Sal stared at him blankly, his head tilting slightly. Kingsley habitually shuffled an inch away. He had seen Sal run his mouth in the direst situations. Sal not running his mouth was foreshadowing the kind of destruction and mayhem than even SPIE balked at.
Kingsley would know. He still had nightmares of the bodies. . .and worse, the things that couldn't even be called bodies. The blobs. The blobs that couldn't even have the sweet peace of death. At least, not when they had managed to offend Sal. Luckily, the sheer crimes against humanity that it took to offend Sal very much limited Kingsley's guilt at how those monsters had ended up in such a pitiable state.
Kinglsey finished his glass and filled it again.
Irredeemable monsters or not, sometimes death should just be allowed.
"Good to see my men are keeping true to keeping quiet," he commented, horrifying images still flashing through his mind.
"This is a government hit," Sal stated. "Your government sent dementors to end Harry and nobody is talking about it."
"Our government," Kingsley corrected, "and yes, we are keeping it quiet. You know Madame Bones."
"The Black Puppy Bones, always nipping at the heels of the important," Sal grumbled mockingly. "This should be blowing up. A muggle found kissed after everyone knows the Minister had Pettigrew kissed. What are you playing at Shacklebolt?" Kingsley fought the urge to flinch back from the smaller man.
"Pettigrew was not kissed," Kinglsey stated. All eyes shot to him and he did flinch back. "The admitting Healer for him stated that he was catatonic, not kissed. With the disappearance of his body, a specialist could not contradict the admitting healer's statement. Along with the fact that there were no direct witnesses, well. . ."
"Explain." The words from the last Potter were almost identical enough to words he had heard from his old boss that Kingsley felt his stomach drop.
"Pettigrew's body disappeared."
"The Ministry?" Ron demanded.
"No. I know the men who were on duty. They would not have allowed that," Kingsley answered. "This is a convenient coincidence for the Ministry."
"I don't believe in coincidences," Harry stated.
"They believe in you," Luna chirped. "Not everything is about the grand scheme against Harry Potter."
"Enough of it is," Hermione grumbled, earning an appreciative nod from Harry.
"Tell me what the plan is," Sal ordered.
"No," Kingsley said simply. "You're out Sal. You've been out a long time," he turned to the rest, "and all of you are students. I came here to ask all of you to stay out of this. We are the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and this is our job." The looks he received from all present were not promising.
"We'll discuss this later," Harry said finally, glancing at Kingsley, "alone, but for now we'll stay out of it until it decides we can't."
"Best I can hope for I guess," Kingsley mumbled.
"Yeah," Sal agreed. "So, what did you kids come here for?"
"Dolores Umbridge," Ron stated.
"The head of the dummies?" Sal asked.
"The what?" Hermione demanded.
"Dark Magic Investigation Executive," Kingsley stated, "unprofessionally known as dummies." He hesitated, but took a hard slug from his glass. The kids had brought her up, there was no sense pretending. "The Minister's personal inquisitional squad."
"You're using that word very specifically and I don't like it," Hermione stated.
"You shouldn't," Kingsley admitted. "I am very particular with my word choices. What about her?"
"She's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor," Ron answered. Kingsley's mind went blank at that revelation.
"Holy shit I can see why you don't believe in coincidences," Sal said in shock. "God damn. The effort this world is going to in order to fuck with you is truly astounding."
"That bitch is teaching Defense?" Kingsley sputtered. He quickly cleared his throat and pushed his mostly empty glass away. "Sorry. I have to go."
"Anything on Umbridge?" Harry demanded.
"You kill every Defense teacher, right?" Kingsley asked.
"No!" Harry insisted. "I only killed the one! Lockhart is. . .fine and Remus is doing great and I didn't even get a change to torture. . ."
". . .kill," Hermione interrupted
". . .kill," Harry corrected, "Crouch in self defense. . .plus all of them went after me first so they're fair game. The law says so!"
"Harry wasn't going to torture Crouch," Hermione supplied.
"Okay," Kingsley drawled, "well, prepare for a normal year for you." He rose to his feet and started for the door.
"Shack?" He paused and glanced back at the last Potter. The young man was staring into his glass. "I don't have an aversion to seeking help, help just never seems to be around when we need it." He finally turned and stared Kingsley right down to his soul. "Are you going to be there?"
"To the best of my abilities," Kingsley answered honestly. He paused and thought about the whole situation. "If I know anything, I will be there for the lot of you."
"Well, that's a start I suppose and Shack?"
"Yes?" the tall man rumbled.
"Maybe a specialist should see my cousin before he disappears too," Harry suggested.
"A specialist has already seen him and he has not disappeared," Kingsley stated, "nor has there been an attempt to make him disappear. That's another thing that makes us doubt Ministry involvement in Pettigrew's disappearance."
"I see. Thanks Shack." Kingsley nodded and walked out the door.
(:ii:)
Sal watched his old rookie make a beeline out of the store. "Well, that got him moving."
"Yeah," Ron agreed.
"I can't believe this is the first I'm hearing about all this," Sal growled. "Those are my men chasing this down."
"They were," Hermione allowed. "Quick question."
"Shoot."
"Do you know anything about horcruxes?"
"Is that with a w or an h?" Sal wondered. The witch shrugged and he wracked his brain. "I've heard of it. Something old. Something really bad. Not just killing, but some kind of murder magic. Can you use the word in a sentence?"
"Voldemort said that his diary was one," Harry explained.
"Voldemort had a diary?" Sal asked with a quirked eyebrow. "Well, to each their own. Who am I to judge one's mental self-care routine? So, it's not a murdering spell in and of itself, but I remember it having something to do with murder. Honestly, Hermione is the only one I could imagine enchanting a book to murder someone."
"I would never deface a book like that!" Hermione gasped in outrage.
"That's what you have a problem with?" Sal groaned. "I should have expected that. I'll look into it."
"Thanks," Ron replied. "Murder?"
"All murders are kills. Not all kills are murder," Sal said simply. "It's all about the intent."
(:ii:)
Amelia scowled as her home office's door opened. There was a short list of people who could enter the ancestral manor of the Bones family and one of them had already appeared. "Shack, please tell me that Potter agreed to stay quiet."
"Potter agreed to stay quiet," the tall man stated.
"Oh," Amelia grunted, caught flat footed by good news. "Alright then."
"Alright then," Kingsley repeated and Amelia's wellbeing dropped like a rock.
"What?" she demanded.
"Dolores Umbridge is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Kingsley stated. Amelia's jaw dropped.
"How?"
"Well. . ."
"Kingsley you are not important enough for me to not throw you out a window if you say something smart," Amelia interrupted. The tall man's jaw snapped shut. "How did we miss this?"
"We were looking for something. . .subtle. Something that. . .wasn't putting the head of the anti-Potter inquisition into Hogwarts as one of his teachers." Amelia continued to stare at him blankly for a long moment as she tried to arrange her thoughts. "Mea culpa. I forgot I was dealing with idiots."
"Potter kills the defense teacher every year, right?"
"He only actually killed the first one himself," Kingsley stated. "Things just sort of. . .happened to the rest. Divine providence kind of deal. Lockhart lives, even if he doesn't know who Lockhart is and he, apparently, only tried to obliviate Potter and Weasley. Lupin is fine and from what we gathered, he tried to kill Potter accidentally after forgetting when the full moon was."
"Have we looked into that?" Amelia demanded. "God knows one of those four already turned out to be evil."
"We have not because Remus Lupin has been vouched for by Sirius Black and Harry Potter. Going against that would be very. . .problematic publicly, though maybe loved by the Minister's factions. I'm not sure how far gone they are and whether they would consider a werewolf a hero."
"Dolores fucking Umbridge," Amelia groaned. "She can't be qualified."
"The Minister can make her qualified," Kingsley pointed out. "The ministry and Hogwarts are supposed to be separate entities, but all of the Board of Governors also hold or held positions in politics. It's been that way for centuries; it's just never actually been a problem before. Well, not this badly anyway."
"Except for when Malfoy got kicked off," Amelia pointed out.
"Malfoy is almost as fucking stupid as Fudge." The vulgarity and lack of titles actually caught Amelia by surprise. Kingsley was a man to stand on ceremony. Him dropping the formalities was a sign of mind-bending stupidity on their opponents' part. "Blatantly threatening the other members with violence? Only under Fudge could that dark magical cunt stay a free man."
"Look into it," Amelia ordered, "see how airtight the excuse Fudge used was. Maybe we can do something about it."
"Actually, that relationship sounds pretty done if I'm hearing the rumors right," Kingsley stated. "You've dealt with that smug snake before. Do you really think he likes being the one having his strings yanked about?"
"Really look into that," Amelia said. "I'll deal with a demon to spite the Devil."
"And, we can always come back for him later."
"That too." Amelia leaned back in her chair and scrubbed her hands over her face. "Give it to me straight Shack, what are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking one of our best weapons in this fight is going to be having class with Umbridge soon and I'm going to be very curious about the results."
"I see." Amelia pondered that. "Asset, Shack. They're assets, not weapons." It was a borderline silly thing to draw a distinction for, but draw a line she must. Weapons were easy to use. You knew what they did and could make them do it. Assets were people and all you could do with them was aim and hope.
Any other wordage might lead to her forgetting what she was dealing with.
(:ii:)
Harry groaned as he collapsed into one of the overstuffed chairs in the common room. "Is it possible to transfer to another school, preferably in a different country?"
"Take me with you," Ron mumbled, his head tilted back and staring at the ceiling. "My French is only the second worst language I speak."
"What's the first?" Hermione pressed.
"English," Ron grunted. That at least got a laugh from all of them despite how tired they were.
"I'm going to start looking up this Dark Magic Investiation Executive," Hermione stated. "Cedric said his dad with fired, right?"
"Nobody would be so bold as to fire a Diggory," Luna stated. "Everybody likes them too much. The Diggory line is too awesome. To go against them is social suicide."
"She's not wrong," Ron admitted.
"Let go, made redundant, whatever other secret code word employers like to use when they're too cowardly to say anything outright," Hermione groaned.
"I think it's safe to say that Amos being a known supporter of Harry and his sudden lateral movement in employment straight out of the government are connected," Ron agreed. "Cedric said he'd owl his dad to talk to Harry."
"Bring me along," Hermione ordered. Harry flapped a hand in acquiescence.
"Umbridge," Luna stated. The room seemed to grow quieter for a moment. "This is Hogwarts and things tend to happen here."
"Usually to me," Harry grumbled, but he could see where she was going. "No. No more going in blind. I want to know her and I want to know what she can do. I'm getting a detention. This year, things are going to happen to her."
"We'll be outside the door," Ron said instantly.
"Just say humdinger and we'll be in there!" Luna added.
"I don't like it," Hermione stated. "If she needs to disappear and she does so after a detention with you, that's a link. I don't like links when making people disappear."
"Let's be honest, if Harry needs help, this isn't going to be a disappearance, it's going to be a very messy, very loud case of self-defense," Ron pointed out. "Historically, an endgame attack by the Defense teacher is never subtle."
"That last one wasn't bad," Hermione pointed out.
"Crouch didn't really get to have an endgame battle, he ran into a trigger-happy French maniac," Harry stated.
"What if that's what the Minister is counting on?" Hermione pressed. "What if she's the bait? They've already been calling Harry unstable for months. Can they pose this as Harry losing control again and killing an innocent teacher?"
"That seems a little advanced for Fudge," Ron commented. "Plus, what kind of qualified, innocent teacher could be taken down by a student? Teachers are supposed to be able to handle any accident that could happen in their classroom. A qualified Defense teacher should never be at risk from a student."
"One can't live solely counting on the stupidity of their enemies," Luna said sagely. "Ron is right, but the ministry has prepared the populace to expect more from Harry than an average student."
"A fair point," Ron admitted, patting the blonde on her head. She preened happily at his praise. "More information. Wars are won and lost on information. Now, we have a source outside the ministry and one inside. Might be a good test to see if we can actually rely on Shack." There was a quiet sound from the far side of the room and they all spun.
"Come out!" Harry ordered. A wide eyed first year stepped out of the staircase leading to his dorms.
"I'm sorry!" The tension that had built quickly fled.
"No, we're sorry," Harry replied. "Come on over."
"But Neville said. . ."
"We're done talking," Harry replied, glancing at his friends. They all nodded. The first year made his way over and awkwardly sat in the furthest seat he could. "What's your name?"
"Arkin," the first year squeaked out.
"Couldn't sleep?" Harry ventured, glancing at his watch. It was well past late and starting to be early.
"It's just. . .this is a magic school!" Arkin squealed. "Magic is real! I've seen floating candles and horseless carriages and moving paintings and. . ."
"Muggleborn?" Harry interrupted.
"Muggleborn?" Arkin repeated.
"You were born to non-magical parents," Ron explained. "Non-magical people are called muggles. If anybody calls you anything different, especially anything with the word "mud" in it, you come to us. We'll take care of it."
"Ok," Arkin replied, looking a little intimidated by the Weasley. "Anyway, my parents were mind blown when Professor Flitwick came to our house and took us shopping." The boy grew quiet. "I wish I was in his house. He seemed really nice."
"Professor McGonagall is very nice too," Harry stated. "She's really stern, but she's also fair and she'll fight for you. The Sorting Hat knew what it was doing. It always does. You're here for a reason." The boy seemed to brighten at that. "So, my parents weren't. . .around when I found out I was a wizard. What did your parents do?"
"We sat and read through all my text books together!" Arkin said eagerly. Harry's smile drooped a bit. That sounded like prime bait.
"Uh oh," he managed before the Granger inserted herself.
"You read all your text books?" Hermione demanded.
"With my parents," Arkin admitted shyly.
"I did too!" Hermione announced. "My parents are dentists and they were fascinated."
"My dad is a professor at the Royal College of Defense Studies and my mother works as a solicitor for a Fortune 500," Arkin stated. "We actually got in trouble because we tried some spells at home, but my mother sent the Ministry a strongly worded letter and they apologized and sent us a few Galleons."
"I don't know if I should be as afraid as I am now," Neville commented, making the rest of them jump. Arkin and Hermione were in a world of their own. "Arkin has been very shy and hasn't really talked to anyone else."
"We weren't talking anything dangerous with him," Harry insisted.
"I know," Neville replied. "I was not listening. If you hadn't ended your talk so soon, I would have dragged him away." The Longbottom scion sighed as he stared at the three. "Promise me something Harry."
"Anything!" Harry said immediately.
"Keep an eye on those two and make sure Hermione keeps it strictly friendship and mentoring," Neville practically begged, "academic mentoring. I don't want any of them really talking to you, but I can't take away his first friend."
"I promise," Harry vowed firmly. He frowned as he noticed Ron, Luna and Neville staring at him. "What?"
"Since when were you good with kids?" Ron asked.
"You try healing a squirming eleven-year-old with a broken clavicle," Harry countered.
"Okay," Neville said. "Maybe, just maybe, you lot can be normal most of the time."
"That means a whole lot coming from you Neville," Harry managed. "I will prove myself worthy of your friendship."
"Nope!" Neville said quickly. "No. None of that. No grand gestures. No proving yourself worthy of anything. Instead. . .maybe next summer we can try going out a few times without you kidnapping me. Maybe."
"I didn't kidnap you!" Harry insisted.
"You broke into my house," Neville stated.
"I knocked. Your grandmother let me in and even gave me directions!" Harry announced.
"I woke up to find you kneeling over me on my bed," Neville pointed out.
"That is a bit much," Ron admitted.
"I was excited!"
"I didn't need to know that," Neville said firmly.
"Not like that!"
-End
(:ii:)
-Uncle's drunken rambles. And another chapter in the same day. Kind of. Is that okay?
Also, is this telling not showing? I like to think I'm showing. The characters are trying to puzzle out what's actually happening. They're doing that by asking more knowledgeable characters for have legitimate reasons to know that information even if they don't.
Now, why do I give random side characters awesome backgrounds? Why do I do these things? Anyway, here's Arkin O'Brien. If you know, you know. Anyway, Arkin is the son of a Royal Marine officer at the Royal College of Defense Studies and a corporate knee breaker. I won't bore you with the story of how they met. He may never appear again, but he's here for the moment.
The Harry Potter exhibit was pretty cool. Dodged most of the kids, but quite a few of the adults there were in full kid mode. Went with my parents and for some reason my mom kept calling the wands swords. It was very nineties poke-a-mon poke-e-mon except for the fact that wand is an actual word. Stabby metal thingy vs flicky wooden thingy. Kind of think she was still doing it at the end just to piss me off. In addition, God damn Frankling Institute. I guess ramps are technically ADA compliant, but for a guy on a walker like my dad, a couple hundred yards of uphill is a pain. It tired me out, though that might have been rolling my dad the entire way.
And Happy Halloween! Here's hoping the Halloween music this year is way better than last year. I love AC/DC, Meatloaf and Charlie Daniels, but Hell Bells, Highway to Hell, Bat out of Hell and Devil went down to Georgia are not Halloween songs just because they mention hell or the devil. Maybe Hells Bells, but that's just because it starts pretty ominous before it goes awesome and Highway to Hell is just awesome all the time.
Maybe I'm just a giant hypocrite because I do think People are Strange and Werewolves of London are kinda Halloween-ish. Though I am also a recent convert to Ice Nine Kills.
Love you. Fuck you. Goodnight!
-Uncle Jack
P.S. Just to violate my limiting rambles, here's my spooky story for October. I was working Toys 4 Tots, which you fuckers better donate to, with a buddy of mine. It was late and we were waiting for one more family to show up. They had called and begged us to stick around. Little did they know, we weren't going to deny children their Christmas toys just because the parents had to work over time. We would have stayed the entire night.
We're murderous Marines, not Monsters.
Anyway, as we sat in the rented building we had gotten because our duty station, the one I had been at for years, was full of asbestos, and now we couldn't go in it, my buddy looks at me and tells me the building is haunted.
My buddy who had almost murdered a friend of mine who had snuck up on me in a bar and grabbed me by the neck while we had been drinking. He had done the same to knife wielding shitbag as well.
Needless to say, I trust this man.
We hear footsteps on the second floor and I let out an annoyed sigh. I glare at my friend and go up to yell at the guys above us who were trying to scare me.
No one was trying to scared me. There was no one to try. The room was empty and the windows didn't open. As I turn off the lights, I hear footsteps charging at me across the dark room I had just searched. Yes, they were moving. Towards me. Fuck that.
Needless to say, I backed down the stairs. I glance at my buddy and he just solemnly nods. So me and my buddy sat at that desk, slightly angled so our backs were against a wall and each other till the family showed up and claimed their toys.
Funnily enough, as we were locking up somebody nearby let off a couple of shots. We just glanced at each other, shrugged, got in our cars and drove away.
Random gunfire, whatever. Spooky shit, scary.
Welcome to America.