Chapter Summary: Some Remus feels. What happened to McLaggen. And the spider dies.
A/N: Please note I have introduced a character in this chapter with which I am unfamiliar. Therefore the characterisation is my own, if this does not fit with your idea of the character, please feel free to consider him a new character instead. Virtual cookies to anyone who can guess who it is before they read it, let me know.
: Happy Belated Birthday to Shadowgal. Unfortunately I have been struggling with some work related health issues and so could not get this out for the day itself. But lots of love, I hope it was a good day.
: Thank you to everyone who has left comments, kudos, and favourited this fic. I love to hear your thoughts.
Warning: some violence and medical type descriptors used at the end of the chapter. Feel free to skip if these are not you cup of tea or could be triggering.
-o0o-
The fire was the most interesting thing in the room, for it had the full attention of the room's sole occupant. Remus had tried several times to call her attention to himself but to no avail.
"Ha-um," He cleared his throat, louder this time, "Marly?"
"Eep!" She jumped, with a squeal and turned to hazel eyed man. "Remus." His name was a near silent sigh.
"What's got you so distracted?" He asked amused, setting the tea tray he was carrying on a small table between the two wingback chairs.
"Do you ever think about the future?" She asked softly.
"Future?"
"Yeah, do you ever think about what life will be like after this war? All the things we'll be able to do?"
Remus frowned and began his own survey of the fire, "I guess … at least for me … I doubt anything will change."
"Really?" Marlene seemed surprised. "Don't you think life will be better?"
"Marly, after … he disappeared last time … nothing changed."
"But he wasn't really gone, was he?"
"But everyone thought he had. And for people like me, life was just the same."
"People like you?"
"The cursed." He replied bitterly.
"You're not cursed," She scoffed.
"I'm a monster," His voice was flat.
"You are not!"
"I am!"
"Once every twenty-eight days. And it doesn't stop you living your life the rest of the time."
"Living? I exist in between the full moons, nothing more."
"What about us? Is that not living?"
"I …" Remus frowned.
"I like what we have Remus," She whispered. "I think we have a future. I want to believe we have a future."
"I … guess, monsters like me, we just don't deserve…"
"That's enough!" Dropping to her knees in front of wolf, she glared at him. "You are a man! Nothing less."
"You might think so Marlene, but the average witch and wizard out there," he nodded towards the door. "Would be happy if we were all put down. To them, to the Wizengamot, we shouldn't have all the things normal wix have. Jobs, a vault at the bank, marriages, children. To them we are nothing more than a number, registered like animals. How is that a future?"
"Isn't that what we are fighting for?"
"The Centaurs, Mermaids, Vampires and Goblins have long given up on being treated as anything but beings, how are the wolves any different?" Remus really looked at the woman resting her chin on his knees. Marlene looked very pale, so he tried to reassure her. "That might be my future, but yours is sure to brighter."
"What if I want to be with you!" She reached out and grabbed his hands.
"Me … ongoing? After?"
"Yes!"
"But you can do so much better! I couldn't ask it of you!"
"I want you, Remus." She sounded so adamant that he almost believed her.
"I …" His brain stalled.
"Just think about it, ok?" Marlene, looked deeply into his eyes, before she stood, kissed his cheek and made her way out of the room, leaving Remus starring at the fire.
-o0o-
Meanwhile at Hogwarts all was quiet, not even a whisper disturbed the corridors. On the seventh floor a boy made his way past the trophy room, and into the hall beyond. He took a deep breath as he passed in front of the painting, concentrating hard on what he wanted.
It was difficult to focus on what he needed because what he wanted at that moment, more than anything, was a place to hide from it all. The strain he was under grew with each passing moment. Yes, the Dark Lord had the right of it: Purebloods were leagues better than the rest but living under his rule was not a comfortable existence, and comfort was what Draco had been used to before this summer. The comfort of home and hearth and knowing that he was the culmination of his parents' entire existence. That they lived to give him the world. Not the Dark Lord, no he lived for power. And if you could did not have sufficient power of your own, or could not add to his, then you were of no use to him.
The outline of a door appeared before him, and he stepped into the room beyond. Piles of junk lined the walls, he followed the path around, somewhere in the hodge podge of discarded things a cabinet had been placed. A broken wood cabinet that looked like it was not worth a knut, but which if he could repair, was worth his life.
-o0o-
"Where are you off to?" Hermione asked Cormac as the tall blonde seventh year strode into the common room, wearing a fine set of burgundy robes, his dragon hide boots so highly polished they could have been used as a mirror. Irritatingly the young man had been about to walk past her without even saying good morning.
"Gamot," He answered somewhat brusquely.
"Gamot? As in Wizengamot?" she repeated crinkling her nose, "Whatever for?"
"Lord Black is trying to have me charged with assault charges," he huffed in annoyance at the man's audacity. "After the Quidditch match that I was captain for, the one where Potter got hurt being an idiot as usual, they're blaming me for his injuries. Bloody whinger. And he's included allowing Weasley to claim that I confounded him. As if he didn't deserve it. Not to worry. Father and I have the measure of them." He ran his hands down his puffed up chest, in an attempt to flatten out the non-existent crinkles in his robes.
Hermione frowned, "What? Like a trial?"
"Nothing that serious," Cormac snorted. "Father knows Rufus Scrimgeour and Tiberius Ogden, I'm sure that they'll have it sorted out in no time."
"Well that's good then," she smiled.
"How about," he stopped to look at her, reached out to take both of her hands in his and smiled genuinely, "we have a picnic by the lake when I get back."
"Suuure. I just have a charms assignment …"
"Come on, I'm sure that won't take too long. You should be finished before I get back?" Seeing Hermione nod, he grinned. "Just pop down to see the elves, while I'm gone, and have them make up a basket, and then if you could find a blanket that would be great. I should be back before lunch, so if you have it set up by twelve down by the lake, I can join you there. You know the bug repelling charm right? Just remember you have to cast it on the blanket," he said the last slowly and with increasing volume but as he turned and made his way out of the common room he did not see her grimace
Two minutes later Hermione was sat in the cushiest armchair in front of the fire writing her essay, when the sixth year boys in an odd sort of physical echo of Cormac spilled down the stairs into the common room. Surprisingly both Ron and Harry were also dressed nicely in neat black robes of a fancy shimmering material. When had Ronald bought such nice clothes? Maybe Harry had purchased them for him, it definitely something the dark haired boy would do. A shame Ron had never dressed so smartly before, perhaps she would have worked hard to hold his attention. As silently as possible, she ducked down, so that they would not see her.
"'ow long do ya think you'll be?" Seamus asked.
"As long as it takes," Ron said. "Who can guess with the Wizengamot, they're just as likely to make a decision based on McLaggen's father's job, or who his buddies are and be done in five minutes as they are to listen to Sirius and investigate it all properly."
Dean who had glanced at Harry's face cut in, "What do you know Harry?"
The shorter boy bent forward and said in a voice that was quiet enough that Hermione had to strain to overhear, "Amelia Bones will be presiding over the case, and Lavender's volunteered to take Veritaserum, as has Percival, so we should get a proper result if we just get it started."
"But if you ain't seventeen…" Seamus started.
"I'm seventeen already and Lavender's parents will be there and have agreed. McLaggen is of age already too, so there is no reason why they can't request him take it anyway," Percival said.
"Speaking of the lovely Lavender." He gently nudged Ron who looked up and immediately blushed seeing his girlfriend dressed in a pretty set of teal robes. He did not even care that they clashed spectacularly with his hair. Causing several nearby third years to let out 'Awww's' as he took her arm in his.
Hermione straightened in her chair as the group left, pondering the conversation she had overheard. If Cormac were to be given the truth serum and asked the right questions, she could be in a spot of trouble. Rolling up her parchment she left the common room in rather a hurry.
-o0o-
"Calling to order this investigative meeting on the fourth of March, at eight am, and if there is no one missing," the chairman, glanced at the full auditorium, "then, close and seal the doors." He waited a moment while all entryways slammed shut. "Madam Bones as Director of the DMLE I pass the session over to you."
"Thankyou Chief Warlock," the witch stood to take her place at the podium while Tiberius Ogden, moved to his own seat. "Due to recent events at Hogwarts we are here to decide if there is a legal case to answer and if so we will subsequently hold the trial."
"Should this not be handled by the school?" A voice echoed from the far reaches of the room.
"The Board of Governors has discussed the matter and taking into account; the age of the alleged perpetrator, that one victim is the Heir of two houses and the serious nature of the allegations, they have ceded the matter to us. If we decide not to proceed, then they will review the matter and take further advice from the ICW."
"Hang on now! We don't want the ICW interfering in our judicial system. They've been looking for an excuse to get their claws into us for years!" Nott senior complained.
"They wouldn't be, they would be providing guidance with regards to discipline in a scholastic environment," Amelia stated firmly.
"It's only one step away isn't it?"
"Perhaps we should hear what the matter is before we make any rash decisions," Madame Marchbanks suggested. "While I am loathe to involve the ICW in either our judicial or scholastic systems, they may have some valuable insights into dealing with these delinquents and I hardly think that they are wanting to take on the extra work of governing us, they have enough to be getting on with." There was a susurrus that sounded vaguely positive.
"Have we reached an agreement to hear a summary of the claims?" Amelia looked at the stands this time the noise was more affirmative. "In that case, two weekends ago I was notified by the on call Aurors that there had been an incident at Hogwarts at the culmination of the weekly Quidditch match. A student appeared with a beaters bat and hit a bludger directly at one of the players from a position five yards away. It struck that player …."
"For crying out loud when did the DMLE get called in for a simple Quidditch injury?" Rufus Scrimgeour scoffed. "In my day both students and their parents were tougher than this."
"I am trying to give an unbiased accounting of the allegation, Rufus. If you cannot set aside your allegiances to ensure that justice is upheld, I will call for you to be recused." Amelia arched the eyebrow behind her monocle. "Moving on, witnesses report the student was at that time not a member of either of the teams and was observed cursing another student on the same day."
"That's not enough information!" A witch in the third row protested, "Who saw them ? What was the curse? How much was the other student harmed? It could be a simple case of schoolyard rivalries or attempted murder by bludger. How can we tell from that sanitised version of events?"
"Shall we proceed to trial then and bring in the witnesses?"
"Or perhaps we could have the lawyers read their opening statements?" a dour witch, her hair tied in a tight knot at the base of her skull, in the third row suggested.
"Hear, hear," most of the auditorium agreed.
"Fair enough, in that case Lord McLaggen, would you like to commence?"
"This is a ridiculous waste of resources," the man huffed as he stood. "This is merely the case of a child too hyped up on their own fame, throwing a tantrum when it becomes obvious that they are completely outclassed by another. I won't have you turning this into a circus to support the delusions of the Potter boy."
"Heir Potter or Heir Black," a firm voice corrected, most had to pause their mutterings in order to hear the words.
"I beg your pardon," McLaggen snapped with growing anger.
"He is not 'a child' or 'the Potter boy' he is the Heir to two houses and will soon be eligible for his lordship. You will address him as such," McMillan said.
"And who are you?l" McLaggen Senior challenged disdainfully.
"Samuel McMillan, Heir McMillan in fact and lawyer representing both Heir Harry Potter and Mr Ronald Weasley."
"So you think you can throw money at this and it will make it come your way, eh?," McLaggen said, staring condescendingly at Sirius Black.
"No, I just didn't trust myself not to snot you one, so figured it would be best for all involved if I left it to the professionals," Sirius confessed, his fingers curling towards his palms.
"Come now, Tiberius," McLaggen, turned to look at Ogden, "you know as well as I do that this is just some attempt to assuage the boy's whining or to gain more attention now that his allegedly false imprisonment in Azkaban has fallen out of the papers. Cormac is a fine wizard and would never …"
Tiberius Ogden blinked at being addressed while not in the chair, "I believe Joseph that you meant to address Madame Bones."
"And as a second point, I must insist that you use to proper form of address," Amelia chimed in, with a slight smile at the Chief Warlock.
"Fine then Ms Bones," McLaggen rolled his eyes.
"The correct term for my position is Director Bones," Amelia pointed out. "Though currently I would accept Madame Chairwoman, otherwise my title is Lady Regent Bones."
"Regardless, of what you wish to be called," McLaggen brushed aside her comment as unimportant. "The fact remains that there is no need for us to be here and that anyone can see that either Sirius, the boy or possibly both are making the whole situation up for their own gain."
"It's Lord Black," Sirius said rising to his feet after a nod from Amelia, "and clearly having called for a closed session of the Wizengamot I'm after the publicity," he added archly. "If Lord McLaggen does not to wish make a statement about the actual events, perhaps we could allow Heir McMillan to start?"
"Hang on I never said that," the man huffed, realising he if he did not speak now he would lose the opportunity. "My boy, Cormac, who is an exemplary student and upstanding member of society as many of you already know," he looked pointedly at Rufus Scrimegeour, "was playing on the Gryffindor team as Captain. At the end of the match, he hit a bludger, which struck Mr Potter. The ridiculous child having lost control of his broom and so fell, becoming injured in the process, that is all that happened. Nothing more. As you can see they are blowing this all out of proportion. It was a mere accident bought on by Potter's incompetence. There isn't even a case here to dismiss!"
"That is your statement?" Amelia queried.
"Yes." McLaggen sat down.
"Samuel McMillan, have you a statement on behalf of your clients."
"Certainly, Madame Chairwoman. Should we progress to trial I will prove that this was a blatant and premeditated attack, on not one but two other students. That Cormac McLaggen, had assaulted one student, Mr Ronald Weasley, over the course of the week prior to the match on at least a dozen occasions, in a successful attempt to make it on to the Quidditch team as keeper. However, upon being expelled from the team by the captain half way through the game, he did deliberately and in full knowledge of the potential consequences of his actions steal a beaters bat, re-enter the pitch while the game was in progress in order to injure the Gryffindor Captain, Heir Potter-Black."
"Surely this is a case of boys making accusations against each other, how do you mean to prove it," Tiberius Ogden asked from his seat.
"There were multiple witnesses …"
"Who could have been paid to support Potter and Weasley!" Rufus Scrimegeour protested.
"One of whom is Minerva McGonagall," McMillan paused to watch Rufus appear to swallow a lemon whole, at the thought of accusing the Deputy Headmistress of being bribed, "and the others have agreed to take Veritaserum …"
"They would need their parents …" Rufus tried again. When Joseph had approached him, he had hoped that this psuedo-trial would help him gain some traction in ousting Bones from the director's position showing her to be incompetent and easily swayed by external factors thus destroying her reputation for honesty and integrity, but the further they got into it the less it seemed his old friend had told the truth. He could see his chance of promotion decreasing by the minute.
"And those that need to have already spoken to their guardians and permission has been given to the DMLE," Amelia said as if her co-worker was not trying to undermine her. "Has sufficient information been presented, shall we continue with a trial? Raise your wands for No," she paused for the count. "And raise your wand for Yes," Amelia looked around at the small but clear majority of elevated wands.
"Therefore in the case of Heir Potter-Black and Mr Weasley against Heir McLaggen, let us commence."
-o0o-
High overhead the pristine white feathers of an owl reflected the sun light. Hedwig knew she should have been resting, but she was worried about her boys. Sensing they were away from the castle but without knowing why, left her unsettled. If she did not know where they were she could not protect them. Taking wing, she caught a wind drift out of the owlery and over to their stone nest.
Alighting on the sill, she noticed only two boys inside. They were lazing on their beds. One was crossways with his feet and head extended from either side, it looked like he was reading a book that rested on the floor. The other had his legs raised resting against one of the posts and was throwing a small round ball into the air and catching it in one hand. As she watched, a third taller boy entered the room, he smelt of earth and all things green, she liked this boy, he and the flame-haired one were often with her hatchlings.
She chirruped gaining his attention, causing him to move towards her talking in low tones.
"Hey Hedwig, you missing Harry? Hmmm. He'll be back soon. He, Percival and Ron have just gone to sort out that Quidditch nonsense. You remember how Harry got hurt?"
Did she remember how Harry got hurt! What sort of insipid question was that? He was her boy, she remembered all the times her boys got hurt. Hedwig squawked angrily.
"Sorry! O'course you do, silly me," Neville chuckled, reaching out with a slow careful finger to straighten her ruffled feathers. "Well anyway they've gone to London for that, I'm not sure how long it will take. It could be a while."
Hedwig stretched up to bump her head against his finger in thanks and turned to fly out the window.
"What?" Neville asked when he turned to see Dean and Seamus looking at him.
"I could've sworn she understood every word you said," Dean said.
-o0o-
It was twelve and having hurried through all of her homework, rushed down to speak to the wretched creatures who lived in the kitchens, practically run to the lake (bullying three first years from the prime spot, with the best view of the lake, clear of the forest enough to catch the prevailing breeze but not so far as to be unshaded), set up the blanket, and cast the insect repelling charm, Hermione began unloading the food. Cormac would be at any moment. With any luck Harry and Ron would have been made to look like fools in front of all of the political leaders of the Wizarding community, something that would only serve her cause in the long run.
Tucking her feet under her skirt, and looking down the slight hill at the picturesque scenery Hermione could not help but get caught up in visions of the future. The memory from Slughorn, which she would obtain without any input for Harry, would prove to be the turning point in the destruction of Voldemort. Then perhaps with a little push towards retirement she would step out from Dumbledore's shadow into her rightful position of eminence. She would spend a brief time, after completing Hogwarts as Dux no less, interning in the Ministry's legal department to earn her stripes, but no more than a year or two. Before she would take her place as Minister for Magic. She would really get to work. There were just so many changes that needed to be made for the betterment of all wizarding folk.
She sighed and lay down on the blanket, it was a rather pleasant way to spend an afternoon. To be honest she would be a little disappointed when Cormac returned, he could be rather annoying at times. Clouds drifted over head, providing shade from the sun.
Rolling over she glanced at the basket as her stomach gave a rumble. It must be nearly one, where was that boy? Well there was no point letting all that food to go to waste.
A pale hand reached out and flipped up the closest half of the baskets lid.
Plop.
"Eeew!" Hermione screeched, her hand flying to her hair and dragging through the warm smelly mess. "Ah, ah, ah," she violently flicked the goo off her hand, it splattered all over her face, and shirt.
High overhead and out of sight, with a swift flap of a wing and a vicious shriek an owl flew swiftly to the owlery.
-o0o-
"Where is he?" The demanding voice had Harry turning in his chair to see Hermione standing behind him as he sat in the Great Hall at dinner time.
"I beg your pardon?" He asked in confusion.
"Where is he? What have you done now?"
"Look Granger," Ron started.
"Shut it Weasley!" Her frizzy curls swung as she turned to glare at the boy she had once hoped would be her beau. "Where is Cormac? I know he went to the Wizengamot, the same as you!"
The three boys seated at the tables exchanged glances before with a slight dip of his chin, Percival took the fore and spoke, "We are not at liberty to comment on the current whereabouts of Heir McLaggen."
"What!" her voice rose in pitch and volume.
"We are not at liberty to say."
"You're just repeating what you said the first time! That doesn't explain anything," Hermione complained loudly. She had waited until well past four, before coming inside and searching the castle for Cormac, but could not find him anywhere. Leaving her both tired and upset. "Tell me what happened to him!"
"Very well, I'll try again," Percival said plainly. "As of this moment, we are legally bound to keep any of the events that we witnessed while at the Ministry today confidential."
"What?!" She nearly screeched in frustration.
"Can I try," Ron said, after swallowing his mouthful of dinner. At the nods from Percival and Harry, he grinned. "We can't tell ya. The Chief Warlock said so. Nah, na, na, na, nah."
"You'll have to wait for the Wizengamot to make an official statement," Lavender said from the other side of the table. "That should happen sometime in the next week. And Ron, it's not nice to tease." She grinned at him madly, clearly not actually berating him at all.
"Or," Harry said quietly as a sea of birds flew into the castle. "If you're lucky they might put out a special evening edition of the Prophet."
All around the room, students were taking the thin copies of the evening edition from the talons of owls. The volume in the room rose as the papers were unrolled and the contents read. To Hermione's growing ire, her own delivery was one of the last to be delivered. She hurriedly snatched the missive from the owl and unfurled it, to read the headline.
Hogwarts Hijinks - Heir McLaggen expelled.
Hermione fell onto the seat a hand pressed to her chest as the other shakily held the paper.
"No!"
He could not have been expelled! How could this have happened? He had been so sure it would amount to nothing. And it got worse! His wand had been broken and he had been remanded to Azkaban for a year. This could not be happening. He had not really done anything wrong. Confounding Ron was not illegal, no matter if Cormac had done it over twenty times. Besides the boy was already stupid, no one would have ever noticed any damage that had been done. If only Lavender had not said anything. That was what it all came down to. If Lavender had kept her trap shut then Harry, who was very forgiving, would probably not have taken it any further. It was all that stupid bint's fault. Someone should do something about her before she got any further out of control. Yes, someone needed to do something, it was what was best for everyone.
-o0o-
The following day as the sun reached its zenith, a man approached the Gamekeepers hut a note clasped in one hand and a battered and worn suitcase in the other.
"It's time then," A curl fell down across the man's left eye as he dipped his chin in the direction of the forest.
"Aye, reakon it is," Hagrid sniffed. "Thank ye'for comin' know you've been busy."
"A fellow shouldn't be alone for such things," Newt Scamander, said with a small understanding smile.
"What's yer missus think abou' it?"
"Who? Oh Tina? You know, she's used to it by now. I've bought my case to help with the offspring. We might as well get them sorted out at the same time."
"Won't be the same in the forest withou' 'im," Hagrid sniffed some more. "or them little spiderlings, skittering abou'."
"I dare say it won't be," Newt agreed. "Still they probably shouldn't be so close to the children. I should imagine they'll get a bit out of hand with him gone."
"Yeah, they're restless, not sure if the li'l ones'll listen to me."
"You'd feel terrible if something happened to one of the children," Newt added.
"Sounds like something your brother would say," Hagrid added.
"Yes, well you know Theseus, awfully frowny these days."
"Sad that too. Come on then, we best get started. Have you got a nice place for the spiderlings to go?"
"Oh yes," Newt said enthusiastically. "Bunty moved to Borneo, she's agreed to take them in."
"All of them?" Hagrid asked.
"Yes, there can't be that many can there?"
"Well," Hagrid's eyes shifted nervously, "I'll be glad if they all can stay together."
"Of course," Newt nodded. "There's nothing quite like family. Even if some of them are huggers," he added the last under his breath.
-o0o-
The note that Hagrid had sent winging its way to Gryffindor tower, just before Newt Scamander had arrived, was only one short line, written on tear crinkled paper.
He's dying, won't be long now, thought you'd want to know.
Hagrid
After a brief discussion, a pale faced and sweating Ron had declined to join them, even if Percival and Harry only intended staying in Hagrid's hut, so the other two boys made their way through the castle together, in order to support the gameskeeper.
"Hagrid's had him like forever," Harry explained. "You can't tell anyone but he's the reason Hagrid got expelled."
"My lips are sealed," Percival smiled good naturedly and took hold of Harry's hand.
"We'll wait by his hut …oof! Sorry Professor," Harry said blinking in disorientation from his new position on the floor.
They had rounded a corner at the same time that Professor Slughorn had entered the staircase and the rotund man had knocked Harry from his feet.
"My apologies Mr Potter, wasn't watching where I was going. Am in a bit of a hurry you see."
"Where are you off to, Sir?" Percival asked reaching out to clasp Harry's hand and pull him up.
"Ah, I believe Rubeus Hagrid …"
"Oh, we're on the way to support him ourselves. He'll be ever so upset," Harry said.
"Yes, yes, support him, that's it," Slughorn agreed genially. "Had you ever …ah?"
"Met Aragog?" Harry asked as they continued down the staircase. "In second year with Ron Weasley, actually it was a bit of an adventure."
"I can imagine. I wonder if Hagrid ever … Their venom's worth a bit … not to mention their fangs … you see …" Slughorn suddenly seemed embarrassed. "And I believe Newt Scamander will be there."
"I'm sure Hagrid would appreciate any support at this trying time, Sir," Harry said solemnly.
"Yes, well come on then." Slughorn pushed open the door into the courtyard and they made their way down to the Gamekeepers hut.
As expected the hut was empty, so Harry and Percival spent the wait skipping stones into the Great Lake, while Horace Slughorn strolled around Hagrid's gardens taking clippings from all of the interesting plant he spotted.
Hours later, with the sun dipping behind the forest, Hagrid approached the hut accompanied by two tall greying men with the body of Aragog floating behind them.
"You could have waited for me to arrive, Newt," the older scolded.
"I had it handled Thee!" The red-head grumbled. "I don't know why Tina told you anyhow."
"She thought you might have gotten in over your head … again. You're not as young as you used to be, you know."
"You're older!"
"I don't go chasing down random animals every other day now do I?"
"Sorry to interrupt but, I thought you were going to come and take them earlier, Mr Scamander?" Harry asked.
"I had intended to, unfortunately there was an incident in the Department of Mysteries with some escaped Runespoors, a Demi-guise and a Hide-behind that went on a rampage, I got stuck with the cognivours and it took a while to get sorted."
"That sounds …unfortunate," Harry said, remembering the tanks full of brain-like creatures.
"Very. Poor Tina was beside herself with worry," Theseus frowned. "What are you going to do with the other spiders Newt? You can't keep them in your suitcase, there's over a hundred of the things."
"Three hundred and ninety four," Newt said placidly.
"…" said Theseus.
"Three hundred and ninety four," Newt repeated.
"What in the blazers are you going to do with THREE HUNDRED AND NINETY FOUR ACROMANTULA? I know Tina won't let you keep them in the house!"
"Bunty has a retirement home in Borneo, she's agreed to rehome them!"
"Bunty!" Theseus let out a strangled groan. "Does she know how many of them there are? Never mind, she's as crazy as you are!"
"Where did you want to bury him Hagrid?" Percival asked loudly enough to be heard over the arguing of the brothers.
"I thought just behind the pumpkin patch, overlookin' the fores'," Hagrid replied in a choked voice. "I …I've already dug the - you know- grave. Jus' thought we'd say a few nice things over him- happy memories, yeh know-"
His voice quavered and broke. He took a great spotted handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose.
"Ah Hagrid," Horace Slughorn said. "Do you mind if I join. I was sorry to hear about your loss."
"Tha's nice of yeh," said Hagrid, he glanced at the two sixth years. "And thanks fer not giving the boys detention, neither …"
"Wouldn't have dreamed of it," said Slughorn. "Sad night, sad night."
"Shall we-" Hagrid said in a shaky voice. "Shall we do it then?"
As the five made their way through the back garden, the moon was glistening palely above the grounds and its rays mingled with the light spilling from Hagrid's window to illuminate Aragog's body lying on the edge of a massive pit, beside a ten-foot-high mound of freshly dug earth.
"Magnificent," said Slughorn, approaching the spider's head, where eight milky eyes stared blankly at the sky and two huge, curved pincers shone motionless, in the moonlight. Harry thought he heard the tinkle of bottles as Slughorn bent over the pincers, apparently examining the enormous hairy head.
"Didn' know you was interested in 'em. It's not ev'ryone appreciates how beau'iful they are," said Hagrid, tears leaking from the corners of his crinkled eyes. Harry reached over to pat Hagrid's elbow.
"Interested? My dear Hagrid, I revere them," said Slughorn.
Suddenly both Percival and Theseus had an odd sort of snorting, sneezing fit. When Harry turned to Percival he was almost sure the other boy was hiding a laugh behind his hand.
"They are beautiful," Newt agreed dreamily, as Harry glared at his boyfriend.
Slughorn stepped away from the body, and Harry thought he saw a glass bottle disappear under the man's cloak. Hagrid was mopping his eyes once more, "Now … shall we proceed to the burial?"
Hagrid nodded and moved forwards. He heaved the gigantic spider into his arms in a grotesque mockery of a hug and with an enormous grunt, rolled it into the dark pit. It hit the bottom with a rather horrible crunchy thud. Hagrid started to cry again.
"Of course, it's difficult for you, who knew him best," said Horace, who like Harry could reach no higher than Hagrid's elbow, but patted it all the same. "Why don't I say a few words?"
He must have got a lot of good-quality spider venom from Aragog Harry thought, for Slughorn now wore a self-satisfied smirk as he stepped up to the rim of the pit and said in a slow, impressive voice. "Farewell Aragog. King of arachnids, whose long and faithful friendship those who knew you won't forget! Though your body will decay, your spirit lingers on in the quiet web-spun places of your forest home. May your many-eyed descendants ever flourish and your human friends find solace for the loss they have sustained."
"Tha' was … tha' was… beau'iful!" Howled Hagrid and he collapsed onto the compost heap, crying harder than ever.
"There, there," said Slughorn, as Theseus waved his wand and the huge pile of earth rose up and then fell, like an earthen waterfall, to elegantly cover the dead spider in a brown blanket, until finally all that was visible was a smooth mound. "Let's get inside and have a drink," suggested Horace.
"Percival and Harry get on the other side. Newt help me over here. Horace if you could get the door," Theseus directed. They deposited Hagrid in a chair at the table. Fang who had been skulking in his basket during the burial, now came padding softly across to them and put his head in Harry's lap and began to whine.
"What's up Fang? Is it 'cause Hagrid's upset?"
The large dog snuffled, and then whined again, head turning ponderously towards the suitcase at Newt Scamander's side.
"Not to worry, old fellow," Newt said, "nothing is going to escape from there."
Theseus Scamander had another sneezing fit.
"Really Thee…" Newt began indignantly, only to be interrupted by his suitcase falling onto its side with an ominous thump. He stared at it for a moment. "Um, I think I had better …"
"Three-hundred and ninety-four," Hissed his older brother.
"Yes, well, I'll be back in a mo." Newt quickly stood the suitcase upright, opened it and stepped inside. Descending the ladder that disappeared into the depths.
Sighing, Theseus stood up. "If you'll excuse me, his wife would never forgive me if something were to happen to him." A moment later he had also disappeared into the depths of the suitcase.
Once they were out of sight, Fang groaned and dropped his head back into Harry's lap. Slughorn began pulling bottles out from the pockets of his coat and set them up on the table. As the he uncorked one of the bottles of wine he had bought, he looked at the two boys and said reassuringly, "I have had it all tested for poison." He slid one of Hagrid's bucket sized cups, into which he had poured most of the first bottle, across the table to the half-giant adding, "Actually had a house-elf test every bottle, after what happened."
"Sir!" Harry exclaimed in shock.
"Oh not to worry they don't react to poison the same as wix do. One for Harry… One for Percival … and one for me. Well," he raised his mug high, "to Aragog."
"Aragog," the others chimed in.
While Slughorn and Hagrid drank deeply, Harry and Percival both cast detection spells, relaxing slightly when they came back negative. They each took a small sip and set their mugs back down. Harry glanced at Percival trying to convey his newly formed plan to obtain the memory. He knew it was a bit mean to deliberately try and get the man inebriated, but he had not seen a better opportunity and if knowing Hagrid had taught him anything it was that it was easier to get information out of people who were drunk.
"I had him from an egg, yeh know," said Hagrid morosely. "Tiny little thing he was when he hatched. 'Bout the size of a Pekinese."
"How sweet," said Slughorn.
"Used ter keep 'im in a cupboard up at the school until … well…"
Hagrid's face darkened and Harry knew why. Slughorn seemed not to be listening; he was looking up at the ceiling from which a number of brass pots hung, and also a long silky skein of bright white hair.
"That's not unicorn hair, Hagrid?"
"Oh yeah," said Hagrid indifferently. "Gets pulled out of their tails, they catch it on branches an' stuff in the fores', yeh know …"
"But my dear chap, do you know how much that's worth?"
"I use it for binding bandages an' stuff if a creature gets injured," said Hagrid shrugging. "It's dead useful … very strong, see."
Slughorn took another deep drink from his mug, which Percival filled as the man's eyes moved around the cabin searching for more treasures that he might be able to convert into a plentiful supply of oak-matured mead, crystallized pineapple and velvet smoking jackets. Slughorn topped up Hagrid's cup and questioned him about the creatures that lived in the forest these days and how Hagrid was able to look after them all. Hagrid became expansive under the influence of the drink and Slughorn's flattering interest, leaving his moping behind as he happily entered a long explanation of Bowtruckle Husbandry. Percival casting the refilling charm on the bottles of wine and Harry topping up both the men's glasses went unnoticed as they began swapping tales of the illegal trade of dragon eggs.
After an hour or so, Hagrid and Slughorn began making extravagant toasts; to Hogwarts, to Dumbumdores, to elf-made wine and to -
"Harry Potter!" bellowed Hagrid, slopping some of his fourteenth bucket of wine down his chin as he drained it.
"Yes, indeed," cried Slughorn a little thickly. "Parry Otter, the Boy Choosen - or well- something," he mumbled and drained his mug too.
Not long after this, Hagrid became tearful again and pressed the unicorn tail upon Slughorn, who pocketed it with cries of, "To friendship, to generosity, to ten Galleons a hair!"
And for a while after that, Hagrid and Slughorn sat side by side, arms around each other, singing a slow sad song about a dying wizard named Odo.
"Aaaargh, the good die young," muttered Hagrid, slumping low on to the table, a little cross-eyed, while Slughorn continued to warble.
Great fat tears oozed out of the corners of Hagrid's crinkled eyes again; he grasped Harry's arm and shook it.
"Me dad was no age to go … nor were your mum n dad, Harry. Bes' wiz and witchard o' their age I never knew … terrible thing …"
Slughorn continued singing beside the half giant.
"…terrrrrrable," Hagrid grunted and his great shaggy head rolled sideways on to his arms and he fell asleep, snoring deeply.
Harry glanced around, and saw the only picture in the room was a photograph on the mantle of Hagrid and his father, Percival noted what he was looking at and stood to go and examine it. Leaving the pair at the table sitting in silence.
"Sorry,' said Slughorn with a hiccough. "Can't carry a tune to save my life."
"Hagrid wasn't talking about your singing, professor," said Harry. "He was talking about my mum and dad dying. That's why …" he nodded in the Percival's direction, "Perce put up a silencing ward so he can't hear us. Thought you might be able to tell me a little bit about them given you were their teacher."
"Oh," said Slughorn, repressing a large belch. "Oh dear. Yes that was - was terrible indeed."
He looked quite at a loss for what to say, and resorted to refilling their mugs.
"I don't suppose you remember it, Harry?" he asked awkwardly. "That night …"
"It's what the dementors make me remember," Harry admitted glumly. He stared into the flame of a candle that was flickering in Hagrid's heavy snores. "My dad died first. Did you know that?"
"I didn't," said Slughorn in a hushed voice.
"Yeah … Riddle murdered him and then stepped over his body to follow mum as she tried to take me away."
Slughorn gave a great shudder, but he did not seem able to tear his horrified gaze away from Harry's face.
"When he found us in the nursery, and told her to get out of the way," Harry said in a voice devoid of emotion, "he said that she needn't have died. He only wanted me. She could have left me behind and lived."
"Oh dear," breathed Slughorn. "She could have left… no, no, no she never would have. That's awful."
"It is," said Harry, his voice barely more than a whisper. "But as you said she didn't move. Dad was already dead, she did not want me to go too. She tried to plead with Riddle …but he just laughed."
"That's enough," Slughorn gasped, raising a shaky hand as if it would ward off Harry's words.
"Did you like her, Sir?" Harry asked seemingly giving in to the professors plea.
"Like her?" repeated Slughorn, his eyes brimming with tears once more. "I don't imagine that anyone who met her wouldn't have liked her …very brave …very funny…"
"Won't you help her son," asked Harry. "She gave her life for me, won't you give me that memory?"
Hagrid's rumbling snores filled the air, there was a creak from the suitcase that sat beside the table, but no noise came from the other side of the room, where Percival was standing, back to them, apparently still looking at the photo of Hagrid and his father.
"What good could it possibly do? I've been trying to warn you Harry, Dumbledore is not the man you think he is …" Horace looked horrified as if he had not meant to say anything.
"I know. You are safe here, Professor," Harry assured, patting the man's arm. "Percival is the other side of a silencing ward, there are no portraits that can listen in."
"I tried to warn you, but he's been watching me," Slughorn said.
"I'd noticed, after that day I spoke with you. But I already knew what sort of wizard he was."
"You know …" whispered Slughorn. "What has he done?"
"He left me on a doorstep in the middle of the night after my parents died, without even knocking on the door. And it only gets worse from there."
"Worse…." Horace echoed. "Why do you want that memory?"
"I need to know how bad it is. Riddle thinks I am his nemesis due to some ridiculous prophecy. I need to know how far he was thinking of going. What the worst could possibly be. Who are you more scared of professor, Riddle or Dumbledore?" Harry asked after a moments silence.
"I don't know," Slughorn looked terrified.
"What was Riddle like when he was younger? Was he always … so cruel?"
"Cruel? No. Tom was a bit timid at first finding his feet. It might be surprising to you but while Slytherin's have prejudices in terms of blood, it will always be overlooked for power. There was an incident in his first year, I was there in the common room tutoring, so I saw what happened. Some of the third years, Amos Mulciber was one, if I remember rightly, had a younger brother in first year at the time, were teasing Tom about his robes, then they started shoving him around. I had just stood up to deal with it, when with a flash of accidental magic, they were blasted clear across the room, their mouths missing from their faces. Poor Tom was terrified by what he had done, afraid he would get expelled. It was strong magic too, I had to get the healer down to set them to rights, couldn't do it myself, and I'm no slouch with a wand. They accepted him after that. Any child still having accidental magic at that age, has a lot of power you see. Usually it stops once you go to Hogwarts as you are using it all the time, so to still have enough left over for an accident like that, well it's a sign."
"When did he begin to change then?"
"Later much later. Once they accepted him, he came into his own, becoming more confident and outgoing. By third year he often tutored the younger years and helped them along. Didn't care what house they were in either, it was common to see him surrounded by a gaggle of children in the library," Slughorn smiled. "Fifth year, I think is when I noticed him pulling away. He was still clever, talented, and helpful, but he became more reserved, watchful. Colder."
"And the memory?"
"That was his sixth year."
"Did you ever talk to him and ask what had changed?"
"Yes, No, I…I…I can't talk about it." His throat seemed to have tightened suddenly. His eyes were pleading.
"I understand," Harry said with a small nod. "But at least give me the memory. I know that you're scared in case they find out you helped me, but be brave like my mother, help her son," he pleaded.
Slughorn raised a pudgy hand and pressed his shaking fingers to his mouth, "I am not proud," he whispered through his fingers. "I am ashamed of what the memory shows … I think …I may have done great damage that day …"
"You would cancel out anything you did by giving me the memory," said Harry. "It would be a brave and noble thing to do."
Hagrid twitched in his sleep and snored on. Slughorn and Harry stared at each other over the guttering candle. Then, very slowly, Slughorn put his hand in his pocket and pulled out his wand. He put his other hand inside his cloak and took out a small empty bottle. Still looking into Harry's eyes, Slughorn touched the tip of his wand to his temple and withdrew it, so that a long silver thread of memory came away too, clinging to the wand-tip.
Longer and longer the memory stretched until it broke and swung, silvery and bright from the wand. Slughorn lowered it into the bottle, where it coiled and spread, swirling like gas. He corked the bottle with a trembling hand and then passed it across the table to Harry.
"Thank you, professor.'
"You're a good boy," said Slughorn, tears trickling down his fat cheeks into his walrus moustache. "Please obliviate me if you can, for your safety."
"I can't do it, but I think Percival knows how."
With a sigh, he too laid his head on his arms, "Just don't think too badly of me once you've seen it … You have her eyes you know." With another deep sigh, he too fell asleep.
Harry wrapped his fingers around the bottle and slipped it into his pocket, before moving over and touching Percival's shoulder.
"All done?"
"Yeah, I got it. He asked to be obliviated though," Harry admitted with a frown.
"I would like to know both why Horace thinks its necessary to have his memory removed and why a sixth-year student knows how it's done?" Theseus Scamander spoke from behind them.
"How much did you hear?" Percival questioned, his wand sliding into his hand.
"Put your wand away lad," said Newt quietly, as if talking to one of his startled creatures "We're not going to harm you."
In the gloom of Hagrid's room, Percival could see the shape of a fifth figure standing to the left of the Scamander's, blue orbs where eyes should be glowed momentarily, as it gave a thumbs up.
"How much did you hear?" Percival repeated, a hint of a growl in his voice.
"Well now that is interesting," Theseus mused. "That's a tone I've been known to use on occasion, and here you are a mere boy."
Harry reached up to placed one hand over the hidden tattoo and the other applied a gentle downward pressure on Percival's now raised wand arm.
"We heard enough to know you don't trust Albus," Newt commented.
"And I heard enough to figure out that the Vold…"
"Stop," commanded Percival. At Theseus's look he explained, "The name has a Taboo. Or at least if it doesn't yet it will again soon."
"That's why Harry called him Riddle?"
"Yes, what did you figure out?"
"That he is still alive, and that you know how that has happened, but that you need more information, hence the memory from Horace."
"The question then is what you are going to do about?"
"Dumbledore could …" Newt started.
"Dumbledore is more than half the problem," Harry muttered, before Percival grabbed his hand and squeezed it to shut him up.
"That right there," Theseus said, moving towards the boys to look at them more closely. "That knowledge and I would swear looking at you, that I have met you before." He peered at Percival.
"You may have met the man I was named for, Percival Graves, I'm told I resemble him closely."
"And how do you know the Obliviate charm?"
"Seraphina Picquery taught it to me, she's my Godmother."
"Why haven't you bought your knowledge to the Aurors?"
"The British ones are too corrupt."
"The Order of the Phoenix?"
"Why are you not members this time?" Percival countered.
"Dumbledore," Theseus said flatly.
"Exactly. Besides Dumbledore already knows what caused this and has done nothing but keep secrets."
"More secrets," Newt repeated vaguely, looking sad now. "I had hoped, after last time, he would stop that."
"You tend to see the best in people Newt," Theseus said soothingly. "I am no longer an Auror nor a member of the Order, yet I still have some connections, perhaps I can help," Theseus offered.
"Could you do the Obliviate?" Percival returned to playing the part of a student, and glanced at the slumped figure of Slughorn. "I might know how the spell works but it's a bit …"
"How much?"
"All of the conversation after Hagrid fell asleep I think."
"Yes, that should work nicely."
"Do you really think we should tell them?" Harry whispered to Percival as Theseus was busy standing over Slughorn and Newt was distracted by Fang.
"I think so. Back in the other time it was well known that the older Scamander brother was above reproach, though the younger was linked strongly to Dumbledore. Since then there is a rumour that they helped bring down Grindelwald."
"We could check with Sirius, or perhaps Seraphina?"
"Sera would know, but it will take us ages to hear from her."
"Do you think Severus would give us some Veritaserum? Where could we take them to so that we are not overheard? There's only the chamber or the room of requirement, and we would have to get them through the entire castle for that, and they're too tall to use the cloak."
"Veritaserum?" Theseus chuckled, as the brothers rejoined them.
"We don't know you," Percival pointed out. "And while it could be beneficial to share some of these secrets, trust has to be there. It would be disastrous for Riddle to find out what we know."
"I need to get home anyway," Newt said abruptly. He looked around a little embarrassed at interrupting them. "There's Tina and I have to get these guys on their way." He tapped the case gently. "Thee was right. Tina won't have them in the house."
"Thank you for looking after them," Harry said to Newt. "I know it means a lot to Hagrid, and if he wasn't … indisposed, he would say the same."
"What if we have someone we trust contact you?" Percival asked.
"Now you're asking us to trust you?"
"Yeah, I guess we are, we have to start somewhere."
Theseus observed them critically, "I can tell that there's more going on here. You are the strangest pair of sixth years, that I've ever met and I know Newt."
"Thank you," Harry said softly, drawing a chuckle from both Scamander's.
"You'd best be off, before all those spiderlings escape and we had better get back to the castle." Percival chivvied them all out of Hagrid's hut where they separated, two moving towards the school's gates and two back up the slope to where lights could be flickering through the windows of the keep.
-o0o-
It was late well past curfew by the time Harry and Percival made it back to the common room. They had not had time to head to the dungeons to talk to Severus and so settled on hastily making their way back to Gryffindor Tower so they could mirror call Sirius. When they made their way past the grumpy guardian of the portrait hole, they found that despite the late hour, the common room was still a hive of activity, with students buzzing all over the place.
"She's back," Demelza cried as soon as she say Harry. "I get on well with Dean and everything but it will be good to have her on the team again."
"What? Katie?"
"Yeah," she shoved him in the direction of one of the worn leather couches, on which a pale faced but smiling Kate Bell sat, surrounded by her friends.
"Katie!" Harry grinned.
"Potter! I hear there was some trouble with the team while I was gone. Who put you in charge?" she grinned madly.
"McGonagall, you'd think she'd have more sense!" he replied jokingly.
"Yeah, you'd think, but she's always had a soft spot for you."
"I suppose you're tired of people asking but, how are you?"
"Better," she shrugged. "Got to take it slow for a bit, and I'm not allowed in the air for a while, though I can still run drills and practices, so don't think you'll be getting away with slacking anymore."
"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied, happy to see her doing so well. Looking around and seeing that most of her friends had dispersed, he sat next to her on the couch. "I know it's uncomfortable, and it's alright if you don't want to say anything, but do you remember anything about the incident? Do you want to talk about it? 'Cause we'll listen," he indicated to himself, and Percival.
"I don't remember much after I told Leanne I was going to the loo. There was a girl there right behind the door, then a bit seems missing then there's this boy's voice, he cast the imperius on me. I feel like such an idiot. I couldn't even fight it off."
"Hardly anyone can," Percival consoled.
"Harry can," she said with a frown. "I just wish I had worked harder at Defence. I have never felt so useless."
"Even most adults can't throw it off. I don't suppose you remember who you were supposed to give the necklace to?"
"Not a clue, which I'm kind of glad about or I would be stressing over that as well."
"Yeah, you've got enough to be catching up on. Did you manage to keep on top of the theory, despite being so unwell?"
"Just. But I wasn't allowed to do practical at all, then I had to work through the whole experience with a mind healer. I was so anxious thinking about coming back that I nearly didn't."
"You just let us know if there is anything we can do to help with that."
"We'll provide you with guards to follow you around the school."
"Keep you distracted with Quidditch practice."
"Arrange tutors for your lessons."
"About the only thing we can't do is provide you an entourage to accompany you to the loo."
"That's alright Leanne, said she's coming with from now on. Thanks for the chat, but I'm tired, so I'm going to head up to bed."
"Night." They waved her off and watched until she had disappeared up the stairs.
-o0o-
The room was silent, apart from the odd scuffle of foot on stone as the boy worked. Hidden in the middle of the jumbled mess of misplaced belongings and broken bits, the boy sat beside a cabinet. It was about as tall as a man standing, made of dark wood and it was broken. The boy had been working on it for untold hours. His face paler than usual, and purple bruises under his dead, silver eyes.
"For Merlin's sake!" he swore in frustration, slapping his hand against the side of the cupboard. With a click the door, which had previously been wedged shut, popped open, revealing the insides. He groaned as he took in the fallen, mangled bits of wood. The pieces dangling from the back of the misshapen box. "This is going to take forever."
He briefly contemplated asking someone for help, but there was a dearth of experience in repairing magical articles and he doubted that he could find someone, before he could figure it out for himself. The first step, he guessed, was removing the broken pieces.
Ignoring the splinters he obtained, he carefully cut each piece free, until the inside of the cabinet was clear. Moving round the back he pondered how he was going to straighten up the frame, as the whole thing looked like it had been dropped onto one corner.
"Argh," He tripped over a book on the floor that he could have sworn was not there before. With a huff he picked it up and threw it up into the pile of rubbish behind him.
-o0o-
Hermione had risen early. She sat at the Gryffindor table, contemplating what form her revenge on Lavender Brown would take. The girl's crimes were adding up.
Firstly, she must have used a potion to make Ron so enamored of her, that was surely the only reason that he had not been jealous when she had started dating Cormac. Then she tattled on Cormac for casting the Confundus charm, and must have persuaded Ron to report it, he never would have otherwise, if that had not have happened then Harry would have let the whole incident slip by … no she probably had something to do with that as well, perhaps she had contacted Sirius Black and told him. Yes, that was likely it. Sirius was very protective of his Godson not to mention volatile after his stay in Azkaban, if the girl had worded it right then the man would have gone to the ministry wands blazing in defence of his Godson and Ron would have been included.
Thinking on it Lavender's misdeeds possibly went back further then that, after all no culprit had been found for the incident with her teeth earlier in the year. She had thought the blonde too dense to possibly have pulled off such a feat, but perhaps she had misjudged the girl, or she had sweet talked someone into helping her. Either way it was time the blonde learnt that such behaviour would not to be tolerated.
An owl screeched as it flew into the Great Hall, and released its missive. Job complete, it continued its journey back out into the open and over the Forbidden Forest. The letter, tumbled down until it landed with a soft wooft, in front of the sixth year Gryffindor.
Hermione glanced at the letter. Name and address written in fancy calligraphy, stark black ink contrasting the cream-coloured parchment. Clearly it was a formal letter, perhaps the ministry was finally giving her a reward for defeating Voldemort.
Grabbing a butter knife off the table she slit the wax seal and unfolded the letter.
Dear Miss Hermione Granger,
Following an audit of all breaches of the laws of underage magic it was discovered that magic performed at 174 Maplegate Drive, between September first 1991 and September first 1996 has not been reported correctly. There have been four thousand one hundred and eighty six reported breaches of the underage use of magic act in that time with seventeen occasions of magic being cast upon a muggle.
In light of the listed offences and taking into consideration your schooling, you are commanded to appear before the misuse of magic tribunal on the fourth floor of the Ministry of Magic at nine forty-five on the thirtieth of June. Please bring all evidence and references you feel may be relevant to your case with you at this time.
Further to this, magical nullification devices have been placed in and around this location to ensure further breaches do not occur.
Yours Sincerely
Magda Vane.
Hermione's blood sang for vengeance.
"I've just got go to the loo on the way to class," Lavender stood, pressing a kiss to the tip of Ron's long nose before she skipped away towards to the first-floor loos.
"See you in class."
"Bye!"
There was a cheerful chorus of farewells for the girl as she left the Great Hall. It was sickening, they would literally see her again in ten minutes.
Hermione glanced up the table, no one was looking her way. No one said goodbye to her as she departed the Great Hall, following the blonde to the lavatory. It was not until she watched the girl emerge from the cubical, singing to herself happily that she knew what she was going to do.
"Sectumsempra," Hermione hissed. Watching from her hiding place as blood splattered against the mirrors and walls. Watching as Lavender's face grew pale and her pretty blue eyes closed.
A smile twisted her face as Hermione pushed the door fully open and she strode out of the bathroom, casting random cleaning charms as she went.
-o0o-
Brandishing his wand, Albus Dumbledore froze all of the portraits in his office, before he removed the flesh coloured glove he wore to hide the growing necrotic wound on his hand. He did not know what spell or toxin had taken hold of it but nothing he had tried would hide or mask it, so by necessity he had resorted to mundane means to conceal it.
On closer inspection he noticed that there was now some sort of black metallic creep beginning. The darkness highlighting the veins over the back of his hand and his fingers were tinted blue. The wound itself was surely spreading, not at an alarming rate, but still it was worrying. It had now reached the size of a fifty pence piece and he caught the smell of rotting flesh when he bought his hand near his face, even through the freshening charms on the glove.
Not only had he been unable to divine the cause, (other than being bitten by that wretched Grimoire), but he had somehow misplaced the books themselves. So, he could not even use them in his search.
He investigated the stiff soreness of his hand and wrist by stretching his fingers. Something would have to be done. He had been to see Poppy Pomphrey several times but she had been at a complete loss and he had cursed her for her incompetence, so he had called Severus to attend him. Surely he could be able to create some potion, to ease the situation.
A knocking without the door, alerted him to the Potion Master's arrival.
"You called, Dumbledore."
"I find myself in need of your assistance, Severus," Albus said gravely. "I have been cursed," he intoned, "The spell is unknown to me, and the damage is progressing. I had hoped that our matron would be able to assist me, but her efforts have been … disappointing."
With a frown Severus made a note to check on Poppy before he returned to the dungeons for the evening. "Well Dumbledore, what is the issue?"
The old man reached out and placed his wounded hand on the table, displaying the canker.
"How long?" Severus asked.
"Weeks?" Dumbledore hedged.
Stern black eyes drilled into the wizened face.
"The start of the school year," the headmaster admitted.
"You should have come to me then," Sighed the dour man in annoyance. "It has set in now, who knows what might be done." Severus pushed down the mix of emotions that began to bubble away with in him, like he was a shaken champagne bottle. He hid the thought that this wound might be the man's Achilles' heel, and the hope that it would not happen until after his reputation had been utterly destroyed.
"What is the spell?" Dumbledore interrupted Severus' thoughts.
"I have not even cast a single spell yet, Headmaster! How am I to know?" Severus complained, drawing his wand, stifling a wish to curse the man further. Spell after spell he cast, a veritable barrage of diagnostics. He withheld the more obscure spells that he knew, not wanting to reveal all his knowledge, and thinking to perhaps delay any treatment as long as possible.
Reaching out he grasped the hand, turning it this way and that, inspecting the wound and veins. He bade the headmaster, to flex and extend all the muscles, noting the slight swelling around the joints, and the grooves now marring the nails.
"As far as I can tell it is some sort of withering curse."
"And how do we stop it?"
"I'm unsure," said Severus wearing a faux look of concern. "Though some such spells can be slowed by the use of a potion."
"Make it for me," ordered the Headmaster.
"It will be ready in a month." Severus nodded consideringly.
"Surely you can do it sooner?" Dumbledore protested, "We cannot risk it spreading."
"I can try," Severus said dubiously. "But I would need to adjust it, as some of the ingredients are very fragile. Which would mean I have to experiment, which might take longer in the end."
"Well do both! Are you a Master of your craft or not!" Spat the headmaster.
"Very well," Snape agreed. "I will commence the potion and then experiment to see if I can expedite the process, though that will leave me no time to research other detection spells. I will have to leave that up to you. When you find out what the curse is we can then look for a cure."
"Me!" Dumbledore replied indignantly, "I must be on alert for Voldemort's next move. After all, not only am I the only one he is afraid of but, my spy has rendered himself useless."
"If that will be all Headmaster," Severus inclined his head, deciding that it was better to leave then risk being cursed by the man for pushing any further.
"Very well," Dumbledore said with an aggrieved sigh. "But do to try find some time to investigate other detection spells."
High above the Headmasters quarters lying flat on top of a sixth year's mattress, a book jauntily flipped a page, giving of an air of extreme satisfaction. The sixth year who occupied the bed, glanced at the newly opened page of the book, and smiled as he read the words that filtered across the page. A promise from bygone generations of protection, love and knowledge.
-o0o-