Last time...

"She's fine." Lavender tried to calm him down. "You know Hera. She's fine."

"What if she isn't?" Ron demanded, turning again to pace in the opposite direction. "What if she got caught? What if Umbridge-"

"Oh, she did indeed get caught," A new voice interrupted, and Ron whirled around to come face to face with the Goblin King. "but your friend is right. Hera is fine."

"You know this?" Ron demanded outright.

"I do." The High Fae allowed with a nod. "Saw her to the Slytherin Dungeons myself. I must admit they remind me a little of home."

"You said she got caught?" Dean inquired, worried as well. "How is she fine if she got caught?"

"You have met her, yes?" the Goblin King alluded. "I can only surmise that she allowed herself to be caught, in order to see what the…Pink Toad, I believe she called her?…was up to. Sometimes, the best way to beat a trap is to get caught in it. Now, I believe I have another to assure of her safety."

Ron could only watch as the Goblin King disappeared in a shower of glitter, and the House of Gryffindor lost their minds. No one was supposed to be able to apparate in and out of Hogwarts, and the fact that Hera sort of could was already mind blowing enough. That he had spoken so directly to the man wouldn't make it obvious that he knew him, not with how worried he'd been and how he'd been snapping at everyone already. So while everyone was distracted with glitter and disappearing 'hotties' or whatever, Ron made a quick escape to his dorm. He just had to hope that no one cottoned on to what he was doing or why.

…

"She made it then?" Luna asked, the moment she saw the Goblin King in their Common Room. In her case, she was the calm one while the others panicked. "She's safe?"

"…There will be changes coming, ones caused by what was tried tonight, but she is safe." The Goblin King informed her. "She allowed herself to get caught, but events she was not able to elaborate on allowed her to evade prolonged containment. I must return to my previous obligation, but I will return to check in on things periodically."

"How is he?" Luna inquired, much to the confusion of those around her.

"Infuriating, and far too much like her for his own good." The Goblin King replied with bemusement. "He will be fine."

Once the glitter had faded from his leaving, and suddenly Luna became the centre of attention. They all wanted to know exactly who that was, how she knew such a powerful Fae, and what he had meant with his message. It was rather disconcerting to be so suddenly regarded, as she certainly had not been before. No wonder Hera tensed under such scrutiny. This was almost worse than being ignored. Oh dear.

Chapter 108

The next day…

— by order of —

The Ministry of Magic Dolores Jane Umbridge (High Inquisitor) has replaced Al-

bus Dumbledore as Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft

and Wizardry.

The above is in accordance with

Educational Decree Number Twenty-eight.

Signed: minister of magic

The notices had gone up all over the school overnight, but they didn't explain how every single person within the castle seemed to know that Dumbledore had overcome two Aurors, the High Inquisitor, the Minister of Magic, and his Junior Assistant to escape: She really hoped the Minister told Percy what was actually going on, and that the boy understood. Hera imagined the portraits had been quite busy carrying tales to any who would listen, or Jareth was involved somehow; possibly both. With Hera and Marietta having been the only ones in the office at the time to witness Dumbledore's escape, and Marietta in the hospital wing, Hera found herself on the receiving end of quite a lot of new attention.

Rumours were already circulating that once the searching of the castle had concluded, and it had been deemed that Dumbledore wasn't on school grounds, Umbridge had tried to get back into the Headmaster's office. There was just one problem. She couldn't get in. Hogwarts, it seems, had sealed the Head's office against her. Hera couldn't help but smile to herself at the thought, and the pleasantly warm feeling she got when she placed her hand against the stone wall told her that Hogwarts understood. When she opened her eyes, she saw Filch walking towards her.

"The new Headmistress would like to see you, Potter." Filch stated, keeping his voice low. "I don't know what it's about, but with what happened last night-"

"It won't be good, no." Hera agreed. She had a brief thought to ask for Professor Snape, but she didn't think they had that kind of time. "Best get it on with then."

They started walking immediately.

"She hasn't given you any problems, has she?" Hera inquired.

"No." Filch replied. "Once she found out that I was a low level wizard instead of a squib, she made me 'er errand boy."

It didn't take long to get to the office, Umbridge's own.

"Thank you, Argus," she said sweetly.

"Not at all, ma'am, not at all." Filch acknowledged, bowing slightly, and backing out. Smart; she wouldn't want to turn her back on the woman either.

"Sit." Umbridge ordered curtly, pointing towards a chair. Hera watched her carefully as the woman scribbled out some not or other, before finally taking her seat. Umbridge then set down her quill, looking far too pleased with herself. "Well now, what would you like to drink?"

While not what Hera expected, she didn't show it.

"Tea will do, I suppose." Hera allowed, feigning disinterest.

The woman got up and made quite the performance of adding milk with her back turned to her, a convenient tea set up nearby, and then bustled around the desk with it for her.

"There. Drink it before it gets cold, won't you?" Umbridge announced as she handed it to Hera. "Well, now, Miss Potter-"

"Let's not pretend we're friendly. Get to the point, Professor." Hera cut her off, raising her cup to smell the warmth the tea provided. "And it's Lady Potter to you."

"…I thought we ought to have a little chat, after the distressing events of last night." The woman stated, thinly. But when she noticed Hera smelling the tea, she frowned. "What's wrong? Need sugar?"

"No. That's quite alright. I seem to have simply picked up a habit from my Potions Master; smelling tea. It's something he does before taking a sip." Hera assured her, catching the scent of something that shouldn't ever be in ones tea. "I should have known."

"What?"

"Marietta…" Hera murmured under her breath. While this didn't absolve the girl, it potentially explained a bit of it. "Did you know that my Master has been teaching me how to smell out poisons, Professor?"

The woman went stalk still.

"And did you know that Veritaserum is classified as a poison, Professor?" Hera continued. Looking over at her, she could see that the woman was barely breathing, holding back rage. "I'd been poisoned by our previous Defence against the Dark Arts professor last year, you see, and Professor Snape wanted to minimize the risk of such a thing happening again; though really, one can only do so much. Now, while I appreciate your attempt at subterfuge, appallingly lacking though it is, I will ask you again to get to the point. What. Do. You. Want?"

"Where is Albus Dumbledore?" Umbridge demanded outright. Finally.

"No idea, and even if I had one, I wouldn't tell you." Hera snorted. "Besides, considering that he and I are at odds more often than not, do you really think he'd tell me? The name of that list wasn't decided by me, after all, so I wouldn't know anything about it."

A piece of treacle tart appears before her on the desk, and the two women stare at it for a moment, before Hera quickly picked it up in delight.

"Was this you?" Hera inquired, knowing damn well it was the twins, before practically melting with the first bite taken. "You shouldn't have!"

"Very well…Lady Potter," Umbridge allowed, as if saying the words put a foul taste in her mouth, confused by the treacle tart as well as Hera's suddenly changed attitude. "I will take your word for it this time, but be warned: The might of the Ministry stands behind me. All channels of communication in and out of this school are being monitored. A Floo Network Regulator is keeping watch over every fire in Hogwarts — except my own, of course. My Inquisitorial Squad is opening and reading all owl post entering and leaving the castle, and Mr. Filch is observing all secret passages in and out of the castle. If I find a shred of evidence-"

~BOOM!~

The very floor of the office shook. Umbridge slipped sideways, clutching her desk for support, shocked. Both women gazed towards the door, the sound of people running and screaming filtering in. Umbridge herself raised her wand and dashed out of the office, but Hera chose instead to bask in the loveliness that was the treat before her. If all of the paperwork in Umbridge's desk turned to sludge, who could say how such a thing happened?

Choosing to take the treacle tart with her, Hera slowly wandered towards the source of the uproar. It wasn't difficult to find. One floor down, pandemonium reigned. From the looks of things, someone had set off what seemed to be an enormous crate of enchanted fireworks. Dragons comprised entirely of green-and-gold sparks – Hera's personal favourite – were soaring up and down the corridors, emitting loud fiery blasts and bangs as they went. Shocking-orange Catherine wheels five feet in diameter were whizzing lethally through the air like so many flying saucers. Rockets with long tails of brilliant silver stars were ricocheting off the walls. Sparklers were writing swearwords in mid-air of their own accord. Firecrackers were exploding like mines everywhere, and instead of burning themselves out, fading from sight, or fizzling to a halt, these pyrotechnical miracles seemed to be gaining in energy and momentum the longer she watched.

Filch and Umbridge were standing, apparently transfixed with horror, halfway down the stairs. As Hera watched, one of the larger Catherine wheels seemed to decide it needed a bit more room, and whirled towards the pair with a sinister wheeeeee. Hera barely managed to pull the man back in time, but Umbridge had to duck out of the way or risk getting hit as it soared straight out of the window behind her. The man gave an appreciative nod to her, before turning back to watch the ensuing chaos. Meanwhile, several of the dragons and a large purple bat that was smoking ominously took advantage of the open door at the end of the corridor to escape toward the second floor.

"Hurry, Filch, hurry!" shrieked Umbridge. "They'll be all over the school unless we do something — Stupefy!"

A jet of red light shot out of the end of her wand and hit one of the rockets. Instead of freezing in mid-air, the rocket exploded with such force that it blasted a hole in a painting of a soppy-looking witch in the middle of a meadow. The poor dear ran for it just in time, reappearing seconds later squashed into the painting next door, where a couple of wizards playing cards stood up hastily to make room for her. Hera was momentarily sidetracked by the scene as she watched both wizards instantly try to make the hastily displaced witch feel more welcome. Every so often, one of the wizards would turn and glare at Umbridge for the slight to their newfound friend.

"Don't Stun them, Filch!" shouted Umbridge angrily, for all the world as though it had been his suggestion.

"She does know me magic isn't strong enough to combat something like this…" Filch trailed off. "…right?"

"When it's convenient." Hera assured him. "I'd just let her sort it out, if I were you. She did come recommended by the Ministry, after all. Surely, she knows what she's doing."

Filch blinked, looked down at her with disbelief and then amusement, before promptly turning on his heel and making his way to his office. Laughing, Hera continued on to a door she knew was concealed behind a tapestry a little way along the corridor, and continued to enjoy her treacle tart. It really was quite good. Umbridge's shrieks were still audible even from there, and Hera couldn't help but chuckle at it all. Fred and George found her like that when they cautiously left their hiding spot behind the tapestry.

"Impressive." Hera appraised them quietly, with a wicked grin that had them returning it with their own. "Very impressive…You'll put Dr. Filibuster out of business, no problem. An investment well made, I'd say."

"Cheers!" George proclaimed quietly, wiping tears of laughter from his face. "Oh, I hope she tries Vanishing them next."

"They multiply by ten every time you try." Fred explained, when Hera looked at them both with a questioning gaze.

"I can't wait to see what happens next." Hera freely admitted. She decided to make her way elsewhere when she added. "Oh, and thanks for the treacle tart. I hadn't gotten around to lunch yet."

The confused looks on their faces was worth it; she had to have her own fun, after all.

The fireworks continued to burn and to spread all over the school that afternoon. Though they caused plenty of disruption, particularly the firecrackers, the other teachers did not seem to mind them very much. The upshot of it all was that Professor Umbridge spent her first afternoon as headmistress running all over the school answering the summonses of the other teachers, none of whom seemed able to rid their rooms of the fireworks without her. When the final bell rang and the students were heading off to their various Houses, Hera saw a dishevelled and soot covered Umbridge tottering out of Professor Flitwick's classroom. Flitwick was clearly trying to keep his mirth in check as he stepped up to the door.

"Thank you so much, Professor!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed in his best squeaky little voice – Umbridge's remarks coming back to bite her in the arse now. "I could have got rid of the sparklers myself, of course, but I wasn't sure whether I had the authority."

Beaming, he closed his classroom door right in her snarling face.

Fred and George were the heroes that night in the Slytherin Common Room, though there was a host of Gryffindors present as well, and at least one Ravenclaw. Even Hermione fought her way through the excited crowd around them to congratulate them. The two went over the various products that they'd created, especially pleased when Hera mentioned her personal favourite. The Wildfire Whiz-Bangs could create wildly different creatures, but dragons seemed to be a natural favourite of the enchanted fireworks. The Weasley Twins were gathering orders hand over fist, as they'd used their entire stock for this.

"They'll be no living with them after this." Ron muttered, watching them fondly. He looked over to see Hera munching on something. "What's that?"

"Oh, do you remember what the twins did around Yule?" Hera asked. Ron nodded. It had been a narrow miss between that and the smell of burnt rubber chickens. "Well, they haven't stopped."

"You mean…"

"Treacle Tart has been popping up all over the place." Hera admitted, her face a prime example of guilty pleasure. "I've been getting by with saying the house elves love me and don't think I eat enough-"

"Which is true." Hermione interjected.

"-but eventually they're bound to figure it out, especially if I keep teasing them as I have been." Hera continued. "What am I going to do?!"

"…Stop eating it?" Ron suggested, but he couldn't keep a straight face when Hera pulled it closer to her. "Want me to suggest something else? You like apples, I'm sure there's a variety."

"If you can do it without causing too much suspicion." Hera nodded. "Sometimes, I forget you can be sneaky too. That move was inspired."

"It was either that or the smell of burnt rubber chickens filling up your brother's home, Mate." Ron shrugged.

"Fair." Hera relented, using her fork to act in place of bowing. "I yield to your superior logic."

She didn't see the way that Fred and George cast curious glances her way, but then again maybe that was for the best.

The next morning…

CAREER ADVICE

All fifth years will be required to attend a short meeting

with their Head of House during the first week of the Sum-

mer term, in which they will be given the opportunity to

discuss their future careers. Times of individual appoint-

ments are listed below.

"Is it that time already?" Hera wondered, looking at the notice on the board.

"Guess so." Draco shrugged. "What do you think you'll want to be?"

"I've no idea…or rather, too many ideas." Hera admitted with an easy grin. She looked at the list, discovering that she was expected in Professor Snape's office at half-past two on Monday. "Guess I'll see what he thinks then."

"Well, I don't fancy Healing." Ron shuddered. "It says here you need at least an E at N.E.W.T. level in Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms, and Defence Against the Dark Arts. I mean…blimey…Don't want much, do they?"

"Think about it this way, Ron." Hermione chimed in absently, leafing through one of the booklets on the table nearby. "When you've got someone rummaging around your innards, you want them to really know what they're doing. You don't seem to need many qualifications to liaise with Muggles…All they want is an O.W.L. in Muggle Studies…'Much more important is your enthusiasm, patience, and a good sense of fun!'."

"As much as I love Arthur, that explains quite a bit." Hera mused, waving off Ron's offended 'Oi!'. "Mate, he still can't pronounce 'electricity' correctly, and yet he and Tony are working on a flying car together. Tony's convinced they can perfect space travel based of what your father knows, and yet…collection of spark plugs."

"Gotta have a hobby?" Ron shrugged, getting back to the pamphlets.

"Shouldn't you be getting back to your own House, Weasley?" Draco ribbed, then waved a pamphlet he'd picked up. "Listen to this: ".'Are you seeking a challenging career involving travel, adventure, and substantial, danger-related treasure bonuses? Then consider a position with Gringotts Wizarding Bank, who are currently recruiting Curse Breakers for thrilling opportunities abroad…'. They want Arithmancy though…What do you say, Hera? Hermione? You two could do it."

"I don't much fancy banking." Hermione remarked, now immersed in 'Have you got what it takes to train security trolls?'.

"I might consider it." Hera admitted sheepishly. "It's certainly chaotic enough."

When the time came for Potter's career choice meeting, Severus was met with a most unwelcome visitor in the form of Dolores Umbridge. He could hear Minerva in his head reminding him 'Murder bad', but at this point he was almost willing to risk it. She moved towards the corner, quill and parchment in hand, and settled in. It was almost five minutes later that Potter came rushing into his office. She looked out of breath.

"Sorry, Professor." She panted, as she closed the door. "I was looking over all those pamphlets…Some of the others wanted advice…I forgot…"

"No matter, Potter." Severus replied briskly, but as he spoke, there was a sniff from the corner. "Sit down, and let us begin."

When Potter was seated, he shuffled through the many pamphlets on his desk.

"Well, Potter, this meeting is to talk over any career ideas you might have, and to help you decide which subjects you should continue into sixth and seventh years." Severus began. "However, given that you have already taken your O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T.'s, this leaves you in a particularly unique situation. The other teachers are nearing the end of the higher forms of what they can teach you, thus allowing for you to apply for a multitude of Masteries. By the end of this year, I will be taking you to be pinned for your Potions Mastery."

"So soon?" Potter wondered, stunned.

"Whether you choose to be pinned for the others is up to you." He continued with a nod. Yes, this soon. Did she not realize he'd been struggling to come up with things to teach her for longer than he'd care to admit? "This also leaves us with an opportunity for what to do with you, and a suggestion I would like for you to consider."

"Oh?"

"As I have watched you this past year, it has become increasingly clear that you have a way with your fellow students." Severus informed her. "As such, I would like for you to take over teaching – in part – the First through Third Years, at least for the next two years. After that, my…obligation to the school will be over, and you will be free to choose another career path. Then again, you are a princess. You might needn't bother."

"A lot of people have suggested I be an Auror." Potter mumbled, looking like she was still reeling from everything he'd just revealed to her.

"Your mother and father were both Aurors, which might have prompted their suggestions." Severus allowed. "As it is, you have the grades for it. You would be required to undergo a stringent series of character and aptitude tests at the Auror office. It's a difficult career path, Potter; they only take the best. In fact, I don't think anybody has been taken on in the last three years."

At this moment Professor Umbridge gave a very tiny cough, as though she was trying to see how quietly she could do it. Severus ignored her.

"Do not decide now, regarding what I have suggested, but do give it some thought." Severus concluded. "I believe you have it within you to be a far better teacher than I am."

Professor Umbridge gave another cough, a little more audible this time. Severus closed his eyes for a moment, opened them again, and continued as though nothing had happened.

"Then again, I suppose you and your brother have plans for the future." Severus remarked. "He is a genius inventor, and you yourself have crafted potions that weren't in existence before this year."

"We've already made plans to go to some of the more technologically inclined countries and see how their magicals have dealt with it. Perhaps, we'll be able to team up with them to bridge the gap between technology and magic." Potter admitted happily. "Tony's excited about it, especially considering it could help with space travel."

He thought it would end there. He was wrong.

"Not sure I'd want to be in the Ministry anyway." Potter added slyly. "They seem to let just anyone in."

Professor Umbridge gave her most pronounced cough yet.

"May I offer you a cough drop, Professor Umbridge?" Severus demanded curtly, without looking at the woman.

"Oh no, thank you very much." Umbridge exclaimed, with that simpering laugh that grated on his nerves. "I just wondered whether I could make the teensiest interruption, Severus?"

"I will remind you once more that I have not given you leave to address me so personally, Madam." Severus warned. "However, I daresay you'll find that you can interrupt all you like. You seem to do a fare bit of it already."

"I was just wondering whether…Lady Potter has quite the temperament for an Auror?" said Professor Umbridge sweetly.

"Considering the level of hypocrisy I would have to deal with from those in charge, I can honestly say that I do not have the temperament for an Auror." Potter stated, cutting off whatever ground Umbridge had tried to gain.

"Unfortunately, Potter, I'm afraid a level of hypocrisy is involved in the leadership of every job one takes…unless you start your own business, and then willingly submit to whatever rules you put in place." Severus countered. "Few do – are you quite sure you wouldn't like a cough drop, High Inquisitor?"

"Oh, no need, thank you, Severus." simpered Umbridge, who had just coughed her loudest yet. Severus narrowed his eyes at her obvious ignoring his remark about his name. "I was just concerned that-"

"Nice!" Potter suddenly exclaimed. He looked to see what she was referring to, and saw a delicate tray of cinnamon candied apples; his eyes minutely bulging at the fact that she had zero hesitation in picking up the tray and munching on the candied apples.

"Potter, what-"

"Oh, I have no idea, but since winter break these things have been popping up." She shrugged. "I do a passive detection spell on them automatically anymore, but so far nothing bad's popped up. Usually it's influenced heavily with positive magics, well wishes and the like. I've got an idea who's sending them, but I haven't decided what to do about it. Still, the well wishes are nice."

"A secret admirer then?"

"Nothing so juvenile." Potter replied with a small smirk. So it was something juvenile, just not a secret admirer.

"Problem, Madam?" Severus inquired, looking at Umbridge now. The woman was looking around them with clear paranoia on her face.

"Last time one of these popped up in her presence, 'the big boom' happened." Potter informed him. It wasn't difficult to connect the dots after that.

"Very well. Should the mysterious gifts turn violent or harmful, alert me, and we will deal with it." Severus allowed. "Any questions?"

"You're just going to…You're just going to allow this?!" Umbridge shrieked, standing up now.

"It's not harming her. She obviously knows who's sending them. The house elves are delivering them, which they wouldn't do if it was something dangerous, and…" He stated, ticking off fingers, till he saw Potter minutely shake her head; not house elves then. She discretely placed the tray of candies onto her lap, and put her hands together as if in muggle prayer, before then opening her hands and subtly moving them forward. Offerings? "In any case, this concludes our career consultation, Potter."

"You should know, Lady Potter, that naughty children deserved to be punished." Umbridge threatened vaguely, such as it was, before stalking out of the room.

Once she was gone, Severus locked down the wards, and Potter went back to snacking on the candied apples.

"Fred and George Weasley?" Severus inquired, not quite able to contain his amusement.

"Offerings to Loki." Potter admitted with a sheepish grin. "I don't think they've realized yet just how many of their offerings have ended up in front of me, but my luck won't hold forever, and they might already suspect something is amiss. I'm already the worst kept secret, and I have been taunting them with it a little."

"So they just…"

"They used to burn rubber chickens, but Ron suggested offering up treats their 'god' might like instead. He did it to save Tony's house from the smell." Potter continued. "I don't actively influence their pranks, but I do support them. I've even funded them. The pranks have been getting better here lately, so they keep offering more treats. My sweet tooth certainly isn't complaining."

Severus felt like he might burst from amusement alone, when Potter sighed.

"The other Heads of House know now, if it helps you to have someone to discuss things with."

"It does." Severus allowed. "Carry on, Potter."

The door doesn't quite close all the way before he's laughing outright.

…

Hera's munching on cinnamon candied apples still, when she comes upon a scene she doesn't quite understand. Fred and George are comforting a small child; a First Year, by the look of him. The young boy is in pain, tears streaming down his face. She can't hear the words yet, but she knows something is wrong, knows she needs to hear this. They don't seem to realize she's even there.

"What's your name?" Fred asked gently.

"Michael." The young boy offered, quiet, withdrawn.

"Your hand's gonna be fine, Michael." George consoled the kid.

"Yeah. It's not that bad. See? It's already fading." Fred bolstered him up, showing him his own wrist. "You can hardly see ours anymore, and the pain stops after a while."

Hera doesn't understand what she's seeing, but before she can move to find out, Umbridge appears to her left.

"As I told you once before, Lady Potter," Umbridge announced, loudly enough to alert the others to their presence. "naughty children deserve to be punished."