In the Crosshairs

Dragon Voldemort

Chapter 46: Friends

"You're going to love this," said Draco Malfoy, Monday morning .

Harry read his letter as they went down the stairs; flanked by Langdon and Walmer with their hands on his Hogwarts uniform.

=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=

9 December 1996

Harry Potter

Pursuant to the guidelines, you are hereby ordered to:

1. Gia Prescott is no longer your girlfriend. You will be introduced to several more appropriate candidates selected by this committee at a later time.

2. The friendships of Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley have been terminated, they are not a proper influence on your character.

3. Draco Malfoy is now your best friend.

4. You will be transferred to Slytherin house, under the tutelage of Severus Snape, to the best extent possible.

5. You will spend the winter holiday at the Malfoy Manor.

This may seem cruel now, however this is being done for your own best interests. Failure to comply will be deemed a criminal offense. Two Ministry Aurors have been sent to enforce this order.

Cordially,

Dolores Umbridge, Chair of Harry Potter Guidance Committee

"Any questions Potter?" Langdon asked as Harry slipped the letter into his pocket.

They stepped onto the staircase behind the Stone Gargoyle, went up.

"Never been to the Headmaster's office before," Malfoy said, "You?"

"Answer him Potter," Walmer said.

Harry felt the smack to the back of his head as they got to the top of the stairs. They entered the Headmaster's office.

"Here he is!" said Malfoy.

"It's about time that we were formally introduced," said the lady in pink, "I'm Delores Umbridge. I'm here to make the right choices for you."

"Excuse me?" Harry protested, his eyes focused on hers, "Who the fuck you think you are?"

"Do not talk back to me," Delores Umbridge said, "We've already helped you make the first choice, breaking up with your unsuitable girlfriend."

"I haven't—" Harry started.

"Do not worry Potter," Umbridge said, "We've already sent her a breakup note on your behalf."

"You had no right!" Harry protested.

"We're here to make sure you become that proper wizard the world can be proud of," Umbridge said, "We have the responsibility to make these decisions on your behalf, for your own good. And to make the next proper choice, how soon until the Headmaster or the Minister arrive?"

"Pardon for the delay," said Professor Dumbledore as he entered from his private study, "Had to research the rules regarding your request, Harry."

"Not my request, sir," Harry said.

"Of course it is," said Umbridge, "I made it on your behalf. It's for your own good."

The door opened, Professor Snape stood there along with the Minister for Magic in sky blue robes.

"That's a reasonable contingency against unreasonable posturing," the Minister said to Professor Snape.

"Victor," Umbridge said, "Now, we can resort Potter into the house of his choice, Slytherin."

"The rules are quite clear," said Professor Dumbledore, "The Sorting Hat is the arbiter of all questions pertaining to house, including transfers."

"Well," the Minister said to Harry, "Put it on, let's see his latest stalling technique."

"It's the way of Hogwarts," the Professor Dumbledore said, "As Headmaster, I swore to uphold its traditions."

"Like discipline?" the Minister snapped.

"Put it on, Potter," Malfoy said, grin on his face.

Langdon picked up the Sorting Hat, ripped Harry's cap into Harry's hand, and shoved the Sorting Hat onto Harry's head.

"Bee in your bonnet, Harry Potter?" It whispered to Harry.

"Those goons," Harry thought, "They're forcing me into Slytherin."

"That's so?" the Sorting Hat responded, "You'd have done good in Slytherin."

"I'm a Gryffindor!" Harry retorted, "Ron! Hermione! Why the fuck would I do good in Slytherin?"

"You're shutting your mind off, but not good enough," the hat whispered to Harry, "You have talent and drive, traits that would do you well in Slytherin. However, you're also Gryffindor material, a credit to that house in spite of—"

"Hurry up!" the Minister barked.

"Sorting is a deliberate affair," said Professor Dumbledore.

"We all know that Potter is a Slytherin!" Malfoy shouted.

"I will NOT have my friends dictated by some wannabe—" Harry quipped at the hat.

"All in due time," the Sorting Hat announced.

"Malfoy's an arse," Harry replied to the Hat, "Why should I let boffins meddle in my affairs? Or let those blokes push you around?"

"You seem confident in your decision," the hat said, "Grab your cap for they will not like mine—Pardon me as I borrow your skill."

"Well—?" Malfoy demanded.

"Look!" Harry exclaimed, left hand pointed at Fawkes, "He caught a pink headed Nargal!"

As all eyes in the room turned to the Phoenix, except for Fawkes; Harry switched the sorting hat for his, felt the spark as the two transfigured to make Harry's appear to be the sorting hat.

"I fail to see—" said Umbridge.

"Stalling," the Minister said, "Potter is—"

"I shall not be bullied," the dirty wizard's hat on Harry's head announced, "My original verdict stands. This fledgling is to remain Gryf—"

"I knew it!" Minister Fallerschain yelled as he swiped the dirty and ragged old hat from Harry's head. "This will deceive no more!" He threw it with a curse into the Headmaster's fireplace—the hat obliterated into a billowing puff of golden sparks. "Hogwarts deserves—"

"MINISTER!" Professor Dumbledore yelled, the wrath of his fury kept him balanced as his cane fell and wand was drawn. "YOU DESTROYED A LEGACY OF HOGWARTS!"

"CANCEL—" Harry started.

"DO NOT FOOL WITH MY TEMPER!" Minister Fallerschain yelled, before pointing his wand at Harry, "HIDING BEHIND YOUR CLOAK OF FAME—YOU WILL COMPLY OR REGRET THE CONSEQUENCES!"

"YOU'RE TRESPASSING," Professor Dumbledore retorted.

"WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?" Minister Fallerschain demanded of Harry, "I decreed you a Slytherin—go!"

Both Walmer and Langdon grabbed Harry's legs. Harry fell onto his back as they dragged him out of the Headmaster's office. Malfoy laughed.

"We're going to have so much fun!" Malfoy said.

"I still have classes to get ready for," Professor McGonagall said to Ron and Hermione on the second floor, "Good luck—Skittles."

Ron led the way, onto the ascending steps of the Stone Gargoyle. Voiced reverberated from the Headmaster's office.

"I repeat!" Minister Fallerschain said, "I will abide by the decisions of that committee, as I expect you and the boy to do! They have already examined his lifestyle and determined it to be wanting. They have issued an antisocial behavioral order for Potter to shape up, and shape up he shall do by all the powers we can muster to assist."

Ron felt Hermione's restraints on his arms, kept him from bolting into the office.

"This level of interference is unprecedented—" Professor Dumbledore protested.

"I am truly sorry if you are incapable of seeing the big picture," Minister Fallerschain said, "This decision is final—the order on you stands until they deem you unfit for Potter's presence. I have no more time to squander on the fits of a pampered child. Good day!"

"Mr. Weasley! Miss Granger!" Professor Dumbledore called through the door.

Ron entered, saw the sky blue of the Minister enter the fireplace, vanish in green flame. Hermione followed.

"I loathe disrespect for any Minister for Magic," Professor Dumbledore said, "But in this instance, good riddance."

"It's unfair!" Hermione and Ron protested in unison.

"I concur," Professor Dumbledore said, "Unfortunately, until Mr Potter is in peril, I am prohibited from overtly meddling in this matter. Now the Hogwarts library always keeps up to date on the legal code." He quilled a note on a piece of parchment and handed it to Hermione. "As its final act, the Sorting Hat refused to acquiesce to the Minister's demand to uphold the transfer of houses, so while Mr. Potter is still Gryffindor, he is in Slytherin care for some while."

"Final act?" Hermione asked, "Couldn't they force the transfer another way?"

"Tradition and procedure have long vested that authority in the Sorting Hat," Professor Dumbledore said, "As the Minister saw fit to destroy it, the replacement will take some careful consideration, but let us not dally on what need not be decided for eight or nine months. In the meanwhile, I suggest you hurry up for your morning lesson while I attempt to salvage—"

Ron and Hermione left the office, went up to the third floor. Hermione went for the stairs to the fifth.

"No," Ron said as he pulled Hermione toward the Charms classroom, "This may be our only chance to see Harry."

"This bites," Hermione said.

"What did he give you in that note?" Ron asked.

"Unlimited access to everything in the library," Hermione replied, "You're included."

"Oh, great," Ron muttered.

Inside the Charms classroom, stood a lady in pink, Delores Umbridge, at the back of the classroom, her quill onto parchment on a clipboard. In front, sat Harry next to Malfoy, both with their caps on them, and both with Aurors to either side of them.

"Stay back," Ron whispered to Hermione, "Gotta pick the right moment."

Ron and Hermione sat as Professor Flitwick got up in front.

"I see several of you brought help," Professor Flitwick said, "It won't help your quizzes any."

Groans as sheets of parchment flew out to every desk.

"These things itch," Ron whispered as he adjusted his cap.

As they went through their morning lessons, Ron watched the same pattern, the Aurors moved Harry to the front of the classroom, with the Aurors, and so it was the same with Transfiguration. However, Professor McGonagall pulled Ron and Hermione aside.

"This barmy bloody hell—" Ron started, "Surrounded by…bouncers."

"Gryffindor courage and friendship," Professor McGonagall said, "Never forget that."

Ron led Hermione out of the classroom, they caught up with the Aurors and Harry near the Entrance Hall.

"Harry!" Ron shouted as he closed in.

"Get Lost!" Auror Walmer sneered as he pushed Hermione back.

Harry's mouth moved, but nothing came out. Auror Langdon yanked, ignored the soft crackle, and forced Harry to head toward the Great Hall.

"When Potter learns proper respect," Malfoy said, "He might let his servants address him—prepare your tea cozies."

Malfoy hurried, followed. Ron and Hermione went into the Great hall. Ron spotted the eyes that fixated on Harry being escorted to the Slytherin Table. Ron and Hermione went along the Gryffindor Table; Ron felt it strange, the first time in months they had entered the Great Hall for a meal. Students along the line trembled as Ron and Hermione passed along the benches of the Gryffindor Table. Of those already seated, only Ginny did not clear out as Ron and Hermione sat down.

"Poor Harry," Ginny said.

Ron, however, kept his eyes focused around the Great Hall. Finnigan and Thomas glanced toward Harry, peering back. Malfoy sat directly across from Harry. Crabbe and Goyle flanked Malfoy, while the Aurors flanked Harry.

"Have no sympathy for the bastard," Finnigan said.

"Always a Slytherin," Parvati said, "It's for his type of slime."

Ron's eyes focused on those bottle greens of Harry's, their pupils locked onto each other, as they both muttered, "Legilimens!"

"Ron!" Harry thought.

"Hi ya Harry," Ron replied.

"Can't actually talk," Harry mentioned, "Silencing spells."

"Pointless, why'd you want to talk to him," Ron thought, "Or—those Aurors, however, bouncers seem more apt."

"Only slightly better than this morning," Harry thought, "Guess the Minister and that stupid bitch don't like taking no for an answer—lemme tell you about that!"

Harry explained his orders, then the ceremony.

"Sorting hat?" Ron asked.

"Shh!" Harry thought, "Blimey arses though."

"Agreed," Ron replied."

"Ron," Hermione said, "You haven't touched—"

"Thinking," Ron replied.

"Hmmm…" Hermione felt Ron's forehead, "Doesn't feel like a fever to me."

"Takes me forever to do," Ron whispered.

"Don't let me keep you," Harry thought.

Ron flinched, Hermione's hand landed into his soup. Harry snorted.

"What's so funny?" Malfoy demanded of Harry.

"Curse him the runs," Ron thought.

"Good one!" Harry retorted.

A grin came to Harry's face as Malfoy's indignant expression formed; Malfoy bolted out of the Great Hall.

"Staff Table!" Harry thought.

It's ivory glistened as the crack of the cane hitting the floor reverberated in the chamber. Students quieted down and watched Professor Dumbledore slowly make progress from the door of the Antechamber to the podium in the middle.

"I hope that each of you is well fed and watered," Professor Dumbledore said as he glanced about the Great Hall, "It saddens me to report that the great treasure of Hogwarts, representing a long tradition that can never be truly replaced—the Minister for Magic, in a fit of rage, chose to destroy the Sorting Hat earlier this morning. Attempts to recover it have been unsuccessful. Currently, we are assessing the situation. Fortunately, we have adequate warning and will therefore institute a suitable method in time for next fall's Sorting Ceremony. That is all."

Murmurs erupted and echoed among the students of the Great Hall.

"One guess why," Hermione said.

"Refused—" Ron started.

"Don't mean to intrude—" Ginny started.

"Then don't," Ron snapped.

"Prat!" Ginny said, "See I care if you're shanghaied into Slytherin!"

"What will they use?" Finnigan wondered loudly.

Ron spotted the Aurors getting up; he grabbed his bag.

"Have Potter punch them?" Thomas said, "If they pass out fast, Gryffindors?"

Ron stood, grabbed Hermione, and went for the door.

"Let go!" Harry protested as Langdon pushed Harry across the Entrance Hall.

Ron drew his wand.

"Let him go!" Ron ordered Langdon.

"Ron—" Hermione whispered.

Ron's wand flew as Walmer pointed his at Ron.

"We are authorized to use deadly force," Walmer said, "That's your final warning Weasley."

"Don't Ron!" Harry said.

"Silence!" Langdon barked.

Landon and Walmer picked Harry up by his ankles and wrists; they carried him like a side of beef down the stairs. Crabbe and Goyle closed ranks, while Malfoy laughed as he kicked Ron's wand across the floor before joining the parade down the stairs.

"Taste of his own medicine," Finnigan sneered as he walked by.

"Malfoy's got a new trophy," Ron said with disgust.

Ron and Hermione went down the steps, headed for the greenhouse. They entered, the glass outside buried to three feet deep, the roof had been recently swept, and several fires crackled to either end. Their breaths had some steam to them.

"Today," said Professor Sprout, "We're going to be cultivating Fluxweed, including planting, transplanting, and taking care of our specimens."

"Sissy work," Malfoy said.

"Our stores are getting low," said Professor Snape as he entered, "I understand you have a new charge, Malfoy."

"Yes, sir," Malfoy said as he held onto Harry's hand.

"I see," Professor Snape said.

"Get to work," Professor Sprout said.

"What's this about?" Hermione asked Ron.

"How soon can I expect delivery?" Professor Snape asked Sprout.

"It's only a new moon," Professor Sprout said, "No way to pick this under a full moon today, is there?"

Dirt flew.

"Who?" Professor Snape asked, "Finnigan?"

"No," Finnigan said, his hands dirty as the wad had hit Harry.

Splat!

More mud, from behind Harry. Malfoy ducked beneath a table as more converged on Harry. A sprinkler, nearby, sprayed mud, covered Harry. Macmillan picked up a clump, threw it.

"Down with Potter!" came the shouts.

Walmer and Langdon merely stood back, laughed as the mud drenched onto Harry.

Ron caught Harry's eyes.

"Don't Ron," Harry thought.

"Do something," Hermione said.

"No," Ron whispered.

More mud.

"Fuck!" Harry exclaimed.

"Swearing, detention," said Professor Snape.

"Mudfight—out!" Professor Sprout said to Harry, and to Ron, and Hermione.

"Merely Potter's doing," Professor Snape said, "Malfoy's best advice is to take Potter to the shower."

"Move it!" Langdon said.

Harry left, covered in mud, caked into his hair.

"Weasley! Granger!" Professor Sprout said, "If you leave immediately, there'll be no detention because I'd rather not deal with any more paperwork on you two."

Ron pulled on Hermione, they left.

"You just stood there and let them—" Hermione protested to Ron.

"Harry wanted it," Ron said, climbing the steps.

"You dolt!" Hermione snapped.

"And, you've got time for the library," Ron said.

"By getting us kicked out?" Hermione said, "We could've simply skipped!"

"Seeing Malfoy duck for cover," Ron said, "Totally worth it."

Slap!

"Ow!" Ron said, "You ought to be suspended for that."

Slap!

They made it to the fifth floor, went for the library.

Gia's legs swung repeatedly beneath the footbridge, hours after it had arrived, the letter crumpled between her fingers. Another ring of the bells, the Smeltings rang fifteen seconds ahead of Noigate Public. Gia put her hand into the pocket of the borrowed gray jumper when she felt a point against her back.

"Empty out your pockets!" came the demand.

Gia ignored the man.

"I repeat," the man said as the point pushed, "Your pockets, give me your pockets!"

Woof!

Gia caught the flash of black, as Snuffles leaped, knocked the man over.

"Sorry, sorry!" the man pleaded.

Gia stood.

"Don't care so long as you stay away from me," Gia said, before she left.

A minute later, Snuffles panted as he walked alongside Gia.

"I'll write an excuse later," Gia said, "I can't…"

Tears still flowed down her cheeks as she made her way back to 26 Oak St. She pulled off the ring, Harry's ring, and set it on the end table, used it to anchor the note from him.

Woof!

Snuffles went over, laid in front of the fireplace. Gia, however, went up the steps, into her bedroom.

Hoot!

Gia went over, fed Hedwig an owl treat. She sat down on her bed.

"Was it something I said? Did?" Gia said to Hedwig, "I thought he was happy, seemed downright jovial this morning. I wasn't expecting this."

Gia glanced around the bedroom, where everything spoke of Harry, from the Puddlemere United robes spread out on the wall, to the odd collection of books on the shelf. His clothes littered the floor, as if they were trying to escape his trunk in her closet.

"It's going to take a little while to straighten this up," Kristen said, as she stood in the doorway, in a dark blue police sweatshirt with matching dark blue sweatpants. "Want to talk?"

"I don't understand," Gia said.

"Boys can make stupid mistakes," Kristen said, "I should know—my job revolves around it. Want to come down stairs? Offer a bit of company?"

Gia stood, followed, went down the stairs, back to the living room. Gia sat on one of the chairs near the fireplace, she buried her feet into Snuffle's fur before she abruptly pulled them back.

"Ack!" Gia said, "It's…"

"Tough?" Kristen said as she came back with a mug, handed it over. Kristen sat on the chair across from Gia.

"It's not like him, to simply breakup like that," Gia said as she inhaled the smells from the hot chocolate, "Hermione, she…" Gia was searching for a way to explain it, "She and Ron, they showed me what Harry's capable of, how much he cares about those he calls friends."

"Boys are very friendly until they're not," Kristen said.

"Harry's no ordinary boy, he's quite special," Gia said, "First time he met Ron, eleven and on the train to school, and Harry didn't stop to think, he simply opened his heart and bought a whole bunch of treats—that's how Hermione first found them, surrounded by sweets."

Kristen laughed. Gia sipped her cup.

"If Harry broke up, why's his stuff still here?" Gia asked.

"Cold feet," Kristen said, "Sorry, I've…well, I've seen it before, hazard of my job. Guys get mushy and cute and sweet, until they get bored or see a more attractive skirt—not everybody packs. Even left his dog."

Snuffles got up, went up out the back.

"Snuffles is not a typical dog," Gia said, welcoming a change in topic.

"People and their pets," Kristen said, "I've seen a lot in my job."

"Harry claims he's intelligent," Gia said, "Well trained."

"For an ex–boyfriend," Kristen said, "He's quite trusting in you to take care of his pets. I've seen… vengeful ex's taking them to a shelter, or even have them put down, simply to spite their ex."

"Horrible," Gia said, "Still, Harry's either totally trusting you or totally not, he's got no middle ground with him. I thought I knew him."

"I was willing to say you had a solid one," Kristen said, "Andrea's not as forthcoming, I still don't know if she's still seeing Stephen or Feeley. Knowing her, she's likely playing them off each other."

"Richard can't keep track," Gia said, "Doubt she can."

Kristen snorted, sipped her tea.

"Unfortunately I couldn't recommend her to any boy," Kristen said, "Even if Harry could do her good, I wouldn't risk his life. They did the autopsy on the one she ran off with last month, he had signs of torture and inflicted injuries, yet, no cause of death like he simply dropped dead. Of course, the heart stops in the end."

"Harry's heart is big," Gia said, "That's why I can't wrap my head around this."

"I've changed the sheets on your bed," Kristen said, "I'm guessing he's the one that's occasionally…"

"Harry's got frequent nightmares," Gia said, "Frequently loses…"

"If he's getting this many," Kristen said, "I'd recommend him getting help—but, as you said, too late for that."

"His school issues haven't helped," Gia said, "Know Ron's taken himself to become—seems a bit wise when it comes to him, not sure how far he's gone though."

"Nice that a friend wants to help," Kristen said, "However, a real psychologist might be able to do more for him."

"I knew Harry for nearly a year," Gia said, "He doesn't just let anybody in, but once he does, he'd adopt them. But getting into his head? Took Ron five years to do so."

"He's got issues," Kristen said, "I can give him recommendations should he come to pick up his stuff."

"He does have issues," Gia said, "He was orphaned at one, his parents murdered."

"What?" Kristen stammered, "Both—"

Kristen got up, backed to the entry to the dining room by the door to the basement. A bunch of footsteps came down the steps, Harry stood there with muddy hair and in his wet underwear with soapy water dribbling from his hair; parchment curled up in his hand.

"What are you—?" Gia started.

"Shit!" Harry stammered as his eyes glanced at the table, "That fucking hag made good on her threat!" Harry pointed to the note. "This wasn't from me."

"What?" Gia asked.

"That bloody committee—see what they're forcing me to do!" Harry said, "Gotta be quick, while I locked the door to the shower, they'll bust in if I take too long here."

Gia read the parchment from Harry's hand, his marching orders.

"Know those blanks I signed last week?" Harry said, "Wicked Bitch of a Witch forged that breakup note!"

"What do you plan to do?" Gia asked.

"There's only one thing to do," Harry said as he picked up the gold ring, brought it to her, "Will you … will you marry me?"

"What?" Gia stammered.

"I need you to write me a letter announcing that you're no longer my girlfriend," Harry said, "Then I complied with those stupid—it'd be true because you'd be my fiancee. Does that work? Will you marry me?"

Gia took a moment, sipped on the mug, her eyes on this boy, with his scar, muddy black hair, and his dirty underwear. She went back to those bottle green eyes, the ones that seemed to tickle her, the ones that made her laugh, the ones that brought her joy, but also spelled hardship to come.

"Got a minute or two, tops," Harry said, "Can I go back, agree that we've dealt with point number one? I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"How will you escape the rest of these?" Gia said.

"Dunno," Harry said, "One point at a time. Please, yes or no?"

"Yes," Gia said.

Harry planted his lips onto hers, kissed.

"I'll think of something for the winter holiday," Harry said, "Be back as soon as I can—write that letter."

"What exactly is going on?" Kristen asked.

Harry's eyes went to her.

"Sorry love the assist but I gotta go," Harry said as he ran back up the stairs.

Kristen's eyes went to Gia.

"I thought the point of your skiing holiday—" Kristen started.

"Didn't work out as well as planned," Gia said, "His Minister thought it best to form a committee with people who don't even know Harry."

"These are his orders?" Kristen asked as she read the parchment.

"Yes," Gia said, "They forged the breakup note."

"This Sl….sly…" Kristen stuttered.

"Slytherin," Gia said, "It's a boarding school, so they divide the students into four houses so they…"

"I get it," Kristen said, "This seems official, what's the name of his school? Why go there? And where is it?"

"It's prestigious," Gia said.

"Oh, sorry, congratulations," Kristen said, "Hope you two made the right choice."

"Doesn't feel wrong," Gia said, "Though it'll take time to sink in."

"Mind if I borrow this?" Kristen said as she held up the letter, "Think I'll head back down to the station and check up on the evening shift."

"Sure," Gia said, "I need to write him the reply he wanted."

Gia went up the steps, into the bedroom. Relief came through her as she petted Hedwig's feathers—nothing would ever be ordinary with Harry. She rummaged into Harry's trunk, pulled out parchment and a quill, cleared a bit of space from her desk, and began to write.