In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 71: Serpents of the Tower
Ron woke to shaking Monday Morning.
"Ron! Ron!" came Ginny's cries.
Ron pulled the sheet to cover his morning wood.
"Seen that plenty," Ginny grumbled.
"Wanna suck on it?" Ron snapped.
"No," Ginny spat.
"Why wake me?" Ron asked.
"I need to get back to school," Ginny said, her hand tugged on her T–shirt, "Get a uniform."
"Not yet," Ron grumbled.
"Harry can take me," Ginny said, "Where's Harry?"
"Dunno," Ron said, "Scram!"
"Harry's not here," Hermione said as she entered the bedroom, her hands in the towel around her hair.
"Where is he?" Ginny asked.
"He'll be back—soon," Gia said, following.
Two sets of bare nipples, Ron didn't mind either Hermione's nor Gia's bare chests.
"Got—an hour before class," Ginny said.
"More than that," Ron grumbled.
"Takes an hour to get from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts," Ginny said.
"Can you mind not saying that any louder?" Ron asked, "Haven't told the muggles—"
"Oh, they don't know the name of our school?" Ginny asked.
Hermione shook her head.
"Please," Gia said, a light push and Ginny backed out of the bedroom.
"May as well go for the shower," Hermione said to Ron.
"I'll do it at school," Ron grumbled.
"Got the time," Hermione said, "Or would you rather work on essays?"
Gia snickered as Ron got up, however, a brown owl flew in and dropped a letter into Ron's hands.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Ron,
How'd Harry do it? Every single one was destroyed when we got back to the shop. Several customers have already lodged complaints that theirs disintegrated overnight.
Gred and Feorge
"Any excuse—" Hermione started.
"Hey—give us a few moments!" Harry protested, outside the bedroom, before he came in.
"What happened to your elbow?" Hermione asked.
Harry lifted his right arm, showed the slightly bloodied road rash.
"Tripped," Harry said, "It's nothing."
"Wait," Hermione said, her eyes shifted back to the clock, "How long were you running for?"
"Dunno," Harry said.
Gia leaned forward into Harry, her hands rubbed his butt.
"Keeps him lean," Gia said.
"Hey!" Ginny shouted from outside the bedroom, "I need to get to school!"
"I was going to use—got a shower there," Harry grumbled, "Risk using it?"
Ron spotted his book–bag, slung its strap over his shoulder, the leather hugged his right hip. Gia's left hand reached down to where down Harry's underwear should have been as she kissed him.
"Ready?" Hermione asked as she opened the door.
Ginny came in.
"No powder downstairs?" Ginny asked.
"It's a MUGGLE house," Hermione said to Ginny.
"Ron?" Harry asked.
Ron fidgeted with his holster on his arm, pulled out the Hogwarts Pin in it.
"Don't tell anybody about these," Harry said to Ginny.
"What?" Ginny asked.
Ron tapped his.
"It's a Portkey," Ron said.
Ginny touched along with Hermione and Harry. A familiar jerk behind the naval and they were pulled along.
"You do this all the time?" Ginny asked.
"Yes," Ron said.
"Say something—one word and this mess of yours—" Ginny said.
"It'd get those muggles killed," Harry snapped.
A push and a fumble, Harry, Hermione, and Ron landed on their feet fine, Ginny tumbled.
"At least we're not suspended—yet," Ron said as he stashed his Portkey.
"Others wouldn't have minded," Harry said.
Ron glanced up as Harry and Hermione observed too. Both Harry's and Ron's four posters were no more, a pile of ash and splinters remained where they had been, along with their desks and wardrobes.
"Guess the others are a bit frustrated," Hermione said.
Knock, BOOM!
"WAIT!" came the voice of Professor McGonagall.
In the doorway with the disintegrated door beneath her pink shoes that complimented her skirt and jacket, stood Delores Umbridge, smiling.
"DETAIN—!" came the start of a shout of Delores Umbridge, pointed.
Ropes flew, slammed to pin Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny against the wall between two windows.
"That's uncalled for!" Professor McGonagall stammered.
A glance at Harry, and Ron understood it best to not fight these ropes, let them stay bound for the moment.
"Conspirator?" asked Auror Archer.
"They're out of uniform," Delores Umbridge said, pointing at the teenagers.
"It is a dormitory," Professor McGonagall said, "Clearly they were in the process of changing into clean underwear, which is why I tried to knock first."
"I smell a cover–up," Umbridge said, "Never mind that, Potter's not allowed secrets from his committee, not like those work anyways."
Two Aurors flanked Umbridge as she stood in the middle of the room, ones Ron recognized from the previous days.
"What are those thugs—?" Ron demanded.
"Silence!" snapped Seagrave, wand aimed at Ron's lips.
"Step aside!" said Auror Archer, who took two steps forward, shoved Harry to the floor, before he turned for Harry's trunk.
As Archer lifted the trunk, food appeared on the table in the middle of the dormitory.
"Breakfast is served." Dobby bowed, breakfast on the table, wide eyes.
"You fool of an Elf!" Umbridge snapped, glared, and started for Dobby.
Harry stepped out of his ropes, between the two, crossed his arms.
"You shall not harm Dobby!" Harry snapped, bottle green eyes glared at Umbridge's.
"MOVE!" Seagrave barked, wand drawn, as Harry was banished to the side.
Archer slammed Harry's trunk upside down, letting the shatter as the contents rolled over the food, and stuff scattered. The telescope rolled off the edge, broke as it hit the floor. Seagrave stomped on it.
"Control yourself!" Professor McGonagall said, "Destruction of student property is a crime in its own right."
"Dark Item," Seagrave said, "It was enchanted."
Ron watched, still bound up, as Harry regained his footing and stood back up. Bottle green eyes locked onto Ron's.
"Wagering she'll bill you for this," Ron thought.
"Ta," Harry grumbled.
A flick of Professor McGonagall's wand, the ropes on Ron, Hermione, and Ginny vanished.
"You did not prove anything," Professor McGonagall said, "That telescope looked like one bought from the student store, every other student has one."
Umbridge's short wand aimed at a quill, which set itself to a floating bit of paper, as Archer pulled each thing across the table, scooping up oatmeal into the opening of the dragon hide gloves.
"Potter's missing many items," Umbridge said, "Check his bag."
Archer picked up Harry's book bag from the floor, dumped its contents onto the table. An inkjar tumbled, fell, and crashed onto the floor, smashing and sending black ink stains across the wood planks. Umbridge's wand aimed, set the essays and parchment ablaze, turning the homework into ash next to the quill. Seagrave stepped on the quill, snapping it.
"Where's everything else Potter?" Umbridge demanded.
"So you can burn the library?" Harry spat.
"Respect!" Seagrave snapped at Harry.
"Not like you'll get any marks this year," Umbridge said.
"Can't when my committee destroys my homework," Harry snapped.
"Besides the point," Umbridge said, "You're missing books, a broom, your infamous owl, potion supplies along with your Dark Items, your coin purse, and your wand."
"The items Mr. Potter has been permitted to keep at Hogwarts has been tightly restricted," McGonagall said, "Books, owls, potion supplies including his cauldron, and other items. Potion supplies were removed long ago to the Potions dungeon where Severus Snape keeps an eye on them. I oversaw the removal of the remainder of the items from the premises of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"She's making it up on the spot, isn't she?" Ron thought at Harry.
"Yep," Harry replied.
"His wand?" Umbridge demanded.
Harry stepped closer to the lady in pink, his Holly wand aimed directly at her.
"Anybody seeking my wand is into the Dark Arts themselves," Harry said, "Voldemort provides benefits?"
Ron ignored the sense of Gryffindor pride behind Professor McGonagall's spectacle covered eyes, instead, read Umbridge's, spotted the images flashing behind the lady in pink, knew what Harry was up to, before the lady regained her composure.
"This is a school that teaches DEFENSE against the Dark Arts," Professor McGonagall said.
Harry withdrew his wand, tucked it behind his back, and backed away. Ron knew Harry was likely stowing his wand out of sight.
"You're all covering up!" Umbridge said, as she stepped back, her stubby wand, which matched her stubby fingers, aimed at Professor McGonagall, "I shall find where you've hidden Potter's real trunk at Hogwarts."
"Take a look!" Harry pointed at the piles of ash, "I'm surprised that trunk was unharmed when those—" Harry glanced at Professor McGonagall before returning to the lady in pink. "The other students are making sure I can't keep anything at Hogwarts by destroying any and everything."
Ron glanced at Hermione and Ginny, before returning his gaze to his friend.
"Now," Harry said, "I expect you to replace my ink–jar, parchment, and telescope that your henchmen and you destroyed. I expect you to arrange excuses because you destroyed my homework with zero time to rewrite it. You claim to demand responsibility, then demonstrate it."
Harry spat at Umbridge's feet.
"If you'll excuse us," Harry said, "I have minutes to get more parchment and redo my classwork."
Harry's book–bag flew up into his arms.
"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said, "My office first."
"Polishing your conspiracy?" Umbridge asked.
"If you have evidence, use it," Professor McGonagall said, "Otherwise, I have duties to perform, which includes providing Mr. Potter with his current schedule as you rendered his existing one…redundant. Come Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss. Granger."
Ron put the strap of his book bag over his shoulder.
"Ginny," Ron said, "Your dormitory."
"Aren't girls prohibited from the boys dormitory?" Umbridge asked.
"You qualify for that," Harry snapped.
"I am aware of the situation that keeps them from being able to enjoy a meal in the Great Hall," Professor McGonagall said, "Therefore, they are permitted to use the dormitory for dining purposes. Anyone who can work the arrangement with the kitchens is permitted this privilege."
Ron followed Harry who followed Professor McGonagall in her emerald green robes. Ginny and Hermione came in last, as the five of them left the sixth year boys's dormitory. Ron stepped over the splintered wood of the door, went down the stone spiral stairs.
"We've replaced the furniture twice this weekend," said Professor McGonagall, "That'll make for a third time."
"Guess the other students don't like me," Harry said.
"That would be an understatement," Professor McGonagall said.
"Not everybody hates you," Ginny said as they reached the common room.
Ginny went up the girls' side.
"Go away!" shouted Paul Prewett, from a nearby table, as he reached for a shiny metal armor helmet.
Ron went out of the portrait hole onto the seventh floor corridor.
"You have an image problem," said Professor McGonagall said.
"No shit!" Harry snapped as they walked along.
They went down the steps, went along the first floor corridor. They entered the office, and Professor McGonagall aimed her wand. Her door closed, the latch and lock engaged.
"First, I was not surprised by the results of her search," Professor McGonagall said, "We had enough warning to partially stock those decoy trunks—from the school store."
"Thank you," Harry said.
"I presume you have your fine brooms for practice?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"At home," Harry said.
"We'll get them if we're allowed," Ron said.
Ron felt Hermione's hand on his shoulder.
"Given current affairs," Professor McGonagall said as she handed over sheets of parchment, "Your time here at Hogwarts will have to focus on subjects ill–suited for correspondence. Hagrid would like a chance to corrupt your sense of danger with magic creatures."
Harry snorted.
"And Potions—" Professor McGonagall started.
"I told Dumbledore—" Harry started.
"PROFESSOR Dumbledore," Professor McGonagall said, "He suggested solo lessons. Perhaps Professor Snape will prove more hospitable, but he's not permitted to expel you."
"We need more than—questions of all the teachers—" Hermione started, holding her sheet of parchment.
"You have access to two owls," Professor McGonagall said, "I know this is not ideal, however, we must use the time available in the most efficient manner possible, unless you know of a fast way to resolve your…quagmire."
Hermione shook her head.
Ring!
"May your day improve," said Professor McGonagall.
Harry led the way out of the office.
"What'd you get out of the hag?" Ron asked Harry as they left the castle, their shoes crunched against the cold grass beneath the cloudy skies.
"Don't call Professor—" Hermione started.
"He meant Umbridge," Harry said,
"Like you need to ask," Hermione said to Ron, her breath billowing out steam, "Obvious she's a control freak."
"She's a puppet," Harry said, "She'll deny her strings are getting pulled, but somebody put an article from The Daily Prophet, one suggesting we had dark art items in our trunks, on her desk."
"How'd you figure that?" Hermione asked.
They approached Hagrid's hut. Few could mistake the adaptation of the uniform, nearly all school jumpers in the matching canary yellow, save Neville's.
"Bet you loved last week, Potter," Malfoy said.
"Cutting my bollocks off?" Harry said, "Are you nutters?"
"Sure you'll retaliate," said Dean Thomas, "You always do."
"Can't we do this inside a classroom?" asked Parvati Patil, shivering for a moment.
"Outdoors is 'he 'est classroom," Hagrid said as he wandered up, "Good morning."
…
"Dismissed," Hagrid announced, several hours after the class had begun.
"Glad to be done with this oaf!" Malfoy exclaimed as a bit of a dribble fell out of the sky, the sun shallow behind the clouds.
Harry loitered for a moment, Ron and Hermione too, as the other students left.
"Mind a cup of tea?" Hagrid asked Harry.
Harry didn't need to be asked twice, went for the door.
"Meant later!" Hagrid shouted.
Ron stopped.
"Unless you want to visit Aragog," Hagrid said as he turned for the Forbidden Forest.
"We're good," Ron said.
"After Quidditch," Harry offered as he noticed Hermione gripping Ron's hand.
Fang ran along side Hagrid as both slipped into the woods. Harry made for the castle. Ron and Hermione followed. Up the steps, and into the castle, the lady in pink, Delores Umbridge was once again flanked by two Aurors stood in the Entrance Hall, her beady eyes on them.
"Follow Potter!" Umbridge ordered.
Ron and Hermione followed as Harry started to move.
"Just Potter," Umbridge commanded.
Harry tried to fish in those beady eyes, sift through the thoughts fleeting before her eyes, but realized thoughtlessness would never reveal itself.
"I'm under orders not to abandon them within Hogwarts," Harry said, "You must accommodate."
"You heard the lady!" Archer barked as he leveled his wand at Harry.
Harry's wand came to his hand, and Archer's wand flew down the stairs toward the dungeons. Seagrave drew his wand as Ron's came to bear, and Seagrave's flew into a suit of armor. Umbridge started to draw her own wand, however, Hermione's was already leveled back.
"I believe this qualifies for a trip to see Dumbledore," Harry said, eyes on Umbridge for a moment, before they fleeted toward Ron and Hermione, "All of us. Come."
Harry thought he spotted Hermione's grin, however, waited for Ron and Hermione to go first up the marble stairs, and he followed them.
"Imperio!" came Archer's shout.
Harry felt the restraint attempt to seep into his skin, he reflexed and shrugged it off. Harry broke out into a run, felt the endurance of a term of morning runs push into his gait, unsure if he actually made every step, before he came to a halt before the Stone Gargoyle, and decided to wait. Archer and Seagrave kept pace with Ron and Hermione.
"See?" Harry said, pointing to the stairs, "Wimps first."
Umbridge huffed and panted, her pink heels echoed as she came close.
"Get—" Umbridge started.
"Come," Harry said as he jumped onto the stairs.
Harry knew Ron and Hermione followed the other three up the stairs.
"Know how many times I've been through that door?" came the Minister's voice as Harry's hand reached the doorknob.
Harry spotted the glare from the lady in pink as he twisted the knob, opened the door.
"I can assist," said Professor Dumbledore, seated behind his carved desk, "Don't bother to attend."
"Minister," Umbridge said as she entered the office before Harry, "Potter refuses—"
Harry caught the glare from the man in the sky blue robes.
"Potter's been ordered to cooperate—" Fallerschain said.
"With what?!" Harry snapped as Ron and Hermione came to stand behind him.
Harry glanced at Umbridge.
"Anger management sessions," Umbridge said, "Without your pets."
"As I already told you," Harry said, "I will not abandon my friends—"
"You shall comply," Fallerschain said, "Aurors!"
Archer and Seagrave readied their wands.
"And forsake my friends?" Harry spat.
"Minister," Professor Dumbledore said, "I did give such instructions—"
"You interfering old fool!" Fallerschain snapped, his finger pointed at the old man behind the desk.
For a moment, Harry let his wrath at the Headmaster, the one who conspired in the humiliation of the previous week get to him, and the ornate desk fell apart. Mahogany crashed over the knees before Harry regained his composure, focused upon the black eyes of the Minister. As Harry took a step toward the man, a plank slipped beneath his feet, levitated enough for Harry to stare down into the Minister's eyes. Harry unsure if Voldemort was paying attention.
"Bloody hell you bastard!" Harry said, "People have attempted to murder us—here! Hogwarts is not safe, but you're not concerned—"
"You've got yourself to blame," Fallerschain said, "As for your assault against me—"
"Mr. Potter is free to express himself," the Headmaster said, now standing and clutching his cane, "As disrespectful as it may be, you are safe—"
"As Minister—" Fallerschain started.
Harry tried a step, the board brought him close, as he glared.
"As Minister—" Harry caught a glimpse of Galleons paid after last week, "You sold my balls without an investigation. As Minister, you've been lousy, inept, unable to prevent the deluge of massive fraud at Gringotts. And you let this serpent—" Harry pointed at Umbridge. "You let her push anger management, when I'm clearly showing restraint despite the injustices you're inflicting on me?" Harry pointed back to the Minister. "You wouldn't like what I want to do, but I'm restraining myself from doing it. So, you call yourself a Minister? You're pathetic."
Harry stepped back, off the plank, and glanced at the Headmaster's blue twinkling eyes. Harry let the wrath remain on the surface.
"You spoiled son of a bitch," Fallerschain said, "Archer, Seagrave, make certain Potter attends—"
"Albus!" said Professor McGonagall as she rushed into the Headmaster's Office.
"Hold your tongue!" the Headmaster said to the Minister and to Harry. "Minerva?"
"Snakes," Professor McGonagall said, holding a bandage over her left hand, "Hundreds, maybe thousands, of poisonous—think they're rattlesnakes, were released in Gryffindor Tower a short while ago. Mr. Finnigan and several others are in the Hospital Wing being treated for bites, all claim to have witnessed Mr. Potter releasing them."
Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione, spotted the befuddlement behind both pairs of eyes.
"Sessions will have to wait," Professor Dumbledore said to Umbridge.
"You can't!" Umbridge protested.
"We were with Hagrid all morning," Ron stuttered.
"Thought you were keeping him an eye on Potter today," the Minister said to Umbridge.
"Not knowing how Potter pulled this off doesn't absolve him of the crime," Umbridge said, "He is a gifted wizard, after all. He's figured out a way."
"Genius," Ron thought to Harry.
"Mr. Potter…" Professor Dumbledore counted on his fingers, "Suspended until Wednesday—"
"Correction!" the Minister said, relish in his voice, "Through the end of the month."
"Victor!" Umbridge protested, "Potter needs anger management!"
"Really?" Harry said, "With what the Minister authorized last week, I should be ripping him to pieces, but I'm not."
"Please leave," Professor Dumbledore said, "I need to administer their punishment—"
"They are not to have any contact with any other student—" Fallerschain said.
"Unless you leave this office," the Headmaster said, "I cannot make that guarantee."
"Evading every edict," Minister Fallerschain sneered as he led the procession out of the office.
Umbridge, Archer, Seagrave, and Professor McGonagall left the office. Both doors came to a close.
"While you have every right to be angry—" Professor Dumbledore started.
"Don't forget who went along with him!" Harry growled.
"You did not leave a good impression with the Minister," Professor Dumbledore continued.
"Don't care," Harry said, "He's scared of me, that's obvious."
"You know which Wizard uses fear and intimidation," Professor Dumbledore stated.
"I'm not trying to," Harry said, "Simply, he was."
"Best to leave and let our heads cool," Professor Dumbledore said, "Remus advised his cottage would be best—"
"He's talking—conspiring?" Ron blurted.
"You do not have a monopoly on my correspondence with my friends and colleagues," Professor Dumbledore said, "Use his fireplace and do not return until…" He summoned a desk calendar, leafed through it in his hand. "February the third, a Monday."
Harry secured his book–bag back on his shoulder, headed for the fireplace, and grabbed a handful of Floo Powder.
"Shouldn't take long!" came the Minister's voice outside the door.
"Lupin Manor," the Headmaster said as Ron and Hermione joined Harry in the fireplace.
Harry dropped the Floo Powder.
"Lupin Manor!" Harry shouted.
Harry began to spin.
…
Hermione stumbled between the two boys as they stepped out of the fireplace. A view toward the left out of windows overlooking an inlet, a tugboat moved past. Another step and fur was against her foot, and she stumbled over the black Snuffles laying in front of the fireplace. Snuffles glanced up.
Woof!
Footsteps from their left, Lupin came into the living room.
"Dare I ask?" Lupin inquired.
"Gave the Minister a piece of my mind," Harry said.
"Two past noon," Lupin said as he glanced at his wrist watch, "George wagered eleven."
Hermione understood the implication.
"What?!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Friendly wager," Lupin said.
"It's alright," Harry said, his bottle green eyes turned onto Hermione.
"Padfoot wagered two," Lupin said
"Pretty safe bet it'd happen," Harry grumbled.
"To the end of the month," Ron said.
"Well," Lupin said, "Welcome to my home."
Hermione caught Ron's shrug, the red hair against his shirt collar.
"I'd recommend—if you had Portkeys to add this house as a destination," Lupin said, "Allow you to come and go unobserved."
Lupin turned around, whistled as Harry and Ron got out their Hogwarts Pins, adjusted them with their wands.
"I put off my monthly—you know," Lupin said, "So, leave your bags here and follow."
Hermione followed Ron, walked to the left, and left, before going down steps between the back of the fireplace and what appeared to be a kitchen. Musty in smell, half the length of the living room above, with an iron door to the other end, a porthole of several window on the left gave sufficient light to see another door on the right.
"How big…?" Ron started as they went through that door.
Dim and without bounds, spacious yet dark, several candles gave enough light to know they were on a stone floor, no walls could be seen.
"Is this—?" Harry started.
"It is an illusion," Lupin said, "An illusion of being big, and I must thank your Headmaster for lending the room—"
"It is Hogwarts!" Harry protested.
"This is a room that comes and goes according to need," Lupin said, "However, it is not at Hogwarts at this present time, it is here, and I suggest me make use of it. In this case, a place to practice wand work."
"Alright," Harry said.
Candles grew brighter, the floor was spacious, neither the ceiling nor walls could be seend.
"First," Lupin said, "An experiment, you'll need your wand."
Hermione unsure if Harry kept things as subtle as he should, his wand appeared in his hand as he stretched it out.
"Create a table," Lupin said, "Conjure it up."
"How?" Harry asked.
"Say—" Hermione started, the spell on the tip of her tongue.
"Not that way," Lupin said, cutting Hermione off, "Imagine it Harry, imagine the table and want it to be."
Hermione watched Harry shutter his eyes for a moment, the right hand flicked with wand in his grip. Toothpicks appeared, fell to the ground.
"He has to—" Hermione started to protest.
"It was an experiment," Lupin said, "Albus suggested it might be possible."
"What's possible?" Harry asked.
"Take Ron here," Lupin said as he took a step toward the red haired teenage wizard, "Him, like myself, have memorized charm after charm, spell after spell, an encyclopedia that our experience and exposure to the wizarding world affords us. Like most wizards or witches, we can do anything we've been taught to be able to do."
"We all have," Harry said.
"Growing up in a wizarding family has it advantages," Lupin said, before he took a step toward Hermione, "You didn't have that advantage."
"No," Hermione said.
"Instead, you've studied Arithmacy, Runes," Lupin said, "You have the vocabulary and the grammar to string together about any spell—a spell that can have a word for, you can do."
"Suppose so," Hermione said.
"I'm trying something else here," Lupin said as he returned to Harry. "Move the toothpicks to, say, over there." He pointed.
Harry pointed his wand, aimed, and the small pile of toothpicks moved an inch.
"Professor!" Hermione protested, she knew the charms to make Harry's life way easier.
"It's cool," Ron said, his arms crossed, hands beneath his armpits, "Try it again Harry."
Harry aimed, the pile moved two inches.
"Can you show me?" Harry asked.
"I know the charms Hermione wants to tell you," Lupin said to Harry, "She, like Ron and me, needs a charm, one I know, and so does she. Albus suspected you had the talent and you demonstrated the ability to use your imagination Harry in your magic."
Harry raised his eyebrows. Hermione wondered what Lupin had been smoking.
"I can only encourage you to develop," Lupin said, "What next?"
"Um…." Harry muttered.
Ron took a step, whispered into Lupin's ear.
"Sure?" Lupin asked.
"Give it a try," Ron said.
Lupin turned, waved his wand, and boulder ten feet in diameter appeared twenty feet in front of them.
"Aim at the boulder," Ron said to Harry, "Who knows, the Minister might show up with that witch—"
"What are you getting at?" Harry said, his voice rising, as he turned toward Ron, his wand aimed at the boulder, "You like—"
A curse shot forth out of Harry's wand at the boulder.
BOOM!
A shower of pulverized stone rained down on them as the boulder disintegrated in an explosion of sparks..
"Anger management," Ron stated.
"Anger management?" Hermione stammered, watched the green tinges on Harry's ears.
"Old hag's right about—" Ron pointed at Harry, "You having a temper!"
"Bugger off!" Harry snapped as a second curse shot out.
For a moment, the boulder reappeared for a split second, before it smashed itself apart into a pile of gravel.
"Got every right to be angry!" Ron said to Harry, "Taking it out on that boulder—think we need a new one, seems a tad better than Potions, desks, or every dildo on the Isle! Try something else, focus it through the wand."
"You're mad!" Lupin stammered at Ron.
"Death Eaters framing you up—" Ron said, glaring at Harry, "I'm GUESSING! But they're the ones to do it, having fun raping at your—" Ron's wand pointed at Harry, touched the crotch of Harry's trousers. "Your expense. Let it loose, mate."
Harry glared at Ron, as the curses shot out of Harry's wand, many parallel each other. Full colors of the rainbow with the dozens of beads of magic; reds, oranges, yellows, greens, blues, and indigos flooded the room. Curses splintered off, formed an intricate web as the threads of magic wove themselves across the entirety of the space. A raft bouyed them as the floor flooded, water lifted them up.
"Padfoot's the doggie paddler," Lupin said, shivering with the cold breeze over them, the raft adrift.
Flame without warmth shot up out of the water, surrounded them in a ring of fire. Pink cats strolled through first, sat with their green eyes on them, as the lady in pink came through.
"My, my," said the illusion of Delores Umbridge, "One mightly naughty boy, I can take care of this, simply hand over your key."
"He's a rascal," said the illusion of Minister Fallerschain, dressed in his usual sky–blue robes, stepped in near Umbridge, "Do you know how do deal with this flotsam?"
"To think his parents sacrificed themselves," said the illusion of Severus Snape, some distance away coming through the flames on the near opposite side as the Minister, "Pointless waste. At least before we had Lily."
A large dark snake, the illusion of Nagini, slithered along the flame, weaving in and out, twice, before a black hem of a robe came through, snake red eyes that watched down over everybody. Snape's illusion knelt, kissed the hem of those robes.
"My lord," Snape said.
"Gives from us to Potter and his friends," said the illusion of Voldemort.
A chill went down Hermione's spine as she watched, feathery tendrils of the robes, the hooded demeantors, hundreds of them turned the flame into shadows, surrounded them.
"Incantation?" Hermione asked, knew she wasn't powerful enough to tackle this many.
"Expecto Patronum!" came a shout, Harry's voice, but not from Harry himself.
Instead of a white stag, a Dark Mark rose from Harry's wand, with the green serpent within.
"What are you playing at?" Lupin demanded.
"Die Potter Die!" voices repeatedly chanted, "Die Mudblood Die! Die Weasley Die!"
A glance upward, floating above the ring of fire, illusions, all students of Hogwarts appeared and laughed at them, including the familiar sixth years Seamus Finnigan, Ernie Macmillian, and Dean Thomas. Parvati and Padma Patil cheered. Ginny's illusion gathered sickles as she recorded wagers.
"More," Ron whispered to Harry.
"Merlin!" Lupin snapped, "Stop this before—"
Ropes appeared, cinched around them, bound them together tight, her back wedged between Ron's and Lupin's. Her shoes vanished and her hands planted themselves onto the coals the raft turned into. Sizzling flesh to their nose, searing pain through her feet and fingers.
"This hurts!" Hermione protested.
Coals sucked them in, enveloped them as they sank through, into water that stung their freshly burned skin. Roots reached out, pulled them further under, Devil's snare that refused to let them out. Hermione tried to relax, her wand refused the summon, and her throat spasmed. Unable to stop it, she swallowed water, and blacked out.
…
Ron felt the slam onto the cold stone floor of the barren room, all burns gone, though his feet still bare.
"Got what you wanted?!" Harry said as he stood, "A dream I—hope you're happy!"
Harry bolted for the door. Ron gave chase. A sharp right, Harry stormed first, and Ron slipped in before Harry slammed the iron door shut. A small reinforced room.
"I want to be alone!" Harry snapped, his bottle green eyes glared at Ron.
"After that?" Ron sat on the cold iron floor, leaned back against the corners of this cold iron wall, and craned his eyes upward at Harry's.
Harry paced for a moment, resumed the glare. Ron felt the probing, those bottle green eyes twinkled, searching as Ron tried to play the idiot.
"You don't know—you can't!" Harry said, "THEY think I am the one with mental problems? Oh, the Dursley's would've been happy for validation!" Harry kicked the wall, lifted his foot and rubbed his big left toe. "Thank you, oh so very much!"
"So you are angry," Ron stated.
"BRILLIANT OBSERVATION!" Harry snapped.
"Sorry for that," Harry said.
Ron stood, leaned back against the wall.
"Minister think's I am spoiled?" Harry said, "My…manhood proves inconvenient so they cut it off? They paraded me—and you—!"
"It's not as if I like this!" Ron said, "Think I like you getting carved up like a roast? You need a friend, especially down there."
Harry's bottle greens locked onto Ron's, starred, and Ron's stared back. Images flashed, the pain of Madam Pomfrey's curse, the sea of canary yellow that attempted to snuff out Ron's life, the corpse of Justin Finch–Fletchley. It came back to Finnigan's Wrath and satisfaction.
"It WAS a lynching," Ron said, "A moment of gratification at your expense."
"I know that!" Harry snapped.
A bit more, Ron caught the fear Harry observed behind the Minister's eyes.
"Was that your nightmare?" Ron asked, wanting to change the subject, "Back there?"
"I don't have nightmares," Harry said.
Ron caught the denial, the silent affirmation, behind Harry's eyes.
"Not a great idea for anger management," Harry said, "Is it?"
"Suppose their idea," Ron said, as he pinched his nose, nasalated as best he could to the minister, "Big bad wizard is after you! Best curl up and go to bed."
Harry snickered.
"Doubles framing you," Ron continued, "Investigations cost money, let's blame Harry for not stopping his impostor, hire a committee to wonder at all the awful things—"
Harry chuckled, laughed, as a shimmer of light came across them both. The door opened.
"We were talking!" Ron snapped.
"It would be an interesting puzzle to see you escape a room with no exit," Lupin said.
"There's a door," Harry said.
"It does not open from the inside," Lupin said, "I'll go in this evening, like I do every full moon."
"Oh," Harry said.
Ron moved after Harry, both stepped out of it.
"Don't worry," Lupin said, "Sirius promised to let me out—afterwards."
"That's nice of him," Harry said.
"What about us?" Ron asked, figured Hermione to be correct, training was likely a good idea.
"I've got a substitute I can call," Lupin said, "Better than tearing up a muggle house."
Harry nodded, led the way back into the room.
"Your idea?!" Hermione said as she glared at Ron.
Ron caught her brown eyes, ones that didn't bother to hide her anger at being left out.
"Calm down," Lupin said, as Ron realized their teacher had the wrong idea to her anger, "Harry demonstrated what I was trying to teach—"
"You can't do it," Harry stated.
"While us, your friends, rely on enchantments," Lupin said to Harry, the sullen eyes upon the teenager, "You…you have the innate ability to use your imagination instead. I can't teach it, nobody can, not at Hogwarts, nowhere. Nor do they even try to encourage it in those who can. It's a shame, because while I need the enchantment, you won't. No textbooks, no teachers for this, only yourself."
"No books?" Hermione muttered.
Harry laughed, and Ron caught the maniacal desire behind those bottle green eyes. Harry pointed his wand, a tall stack of books appeared next to Hermione, towering from floor up beyond sight. Ron snickered.
"Master this," Lupin said, "And render seven years of Transfiguration, Charms, moot."
"Now you tell me?" Harry grumbled, "Had I known this earlier—"
"Might!" Lupin said, "Might be a limit and those enchantments will still be needed. I've not traveled the road, so I'm uncertain on what can and cannot be done. Won't hurt to hone this … ability as best you can."
Hermione's eyes surveyed, and her hands reached for a book at shoulder height.
"Standard book of spells," Hermione said, "Grade 36?"
Hissing smoke and flame erupted from the books, one book reached out and bit at her hand. Ron chuckled, laughed a bit.
"You're right," Harry said to Lupin, "This can be fun."
Ron felt a bit of levity behind Harry's eyes, knew it to be helping, as the books jumped. Harry belted out more laughter as the pile fell over backward, scattered across the floor, and began to scamper away.
"See Harry?" Lupin said, "You can simply do it. Want a table? Make it. Want a chair to become a couch, change it."
Ron focused as Hermione chased Standard Book of Spells, Grade 46 across the room. Harry aimed his wand, the book disintegrated in a puff of purple flame. Hermione turned, glared at Harry.
"You're toying with me!" Hermione shouted.
"Thought that existed?" Harry snapped.
"Try it yourself?" Lupin asked Ron.
"What?" Ron stammered.
"Conjure a sofa and bang Hermione," Harry whispered into Ron's ear.
"In front of him?" Ron pointed at Lupin, "Got a better idea, stand over there."
Ron pointed his wand at one of the spell books.
"Bludger Facere et Impetum!" Ron shouted.
Ron hoped he remember it right, from Fred or George would use it against him. A book changed itself into a Bludger, flew at Harry.
"Citius!" Ron exclaimed.
Harry's wand turned into a Bludger bat, and Harry swung.
Crack!
Harry cracked that Bludger, where it flew fast toward Lupin. Lupin ducked and the Bludger went for the door, as Sirius entered. Sirius about doubled over as the ball hit him in the stomach. A flick of Harry's wand the Bludger left Sirius, flew into the room. It curved around the room, Hermione's wand out as it reverted back into a book, landed into her hands.
"Effective," Lupin said.
"I couldn't conjure it up," Ron confessed.
"Spell," Hermione said.
"Any ability will be useful," Lupin said, "But bear in mind that your talents are all different."
"We intend to push your abilities to your limits," Sirius said.
"Padfoot," Lupin said as he turned for Sirius, "We discussed this already. We will IF they want us to."
"Moony," Sirius said, "I—"
"Wait!" Lupin snapped at Harry fidgeting. Lupin grabbed Sirius, dragged him out of the room.
"What do you suppose—?" Hermione started.
"Keep them from fighting?" Ron asked.
Ron caught her eyes returning to him.
"What were you two playing at?" Hermione demanded.
"Entertainment," Ron stated.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Suggest we ask for relaxed play from Voldemort?" Harry asked.
Hermione glared at Harry, but instead, froze, went blue, and fell. Ron rushed, caught her from hitting the floor. Ron's eyes turned up to those bottle greens as he set her down.
"What did you do?" Ron demanded of Harry.
"Body bind," Harry said, "And I thought she knew how to break—"
"Which we can help you with at a later time," Lupin said as he came back into the room. "We finished our little conference."
Ron's eyes surveyed as Lupin's wand revived Hermione, knew Harry to be doing the same. Blood dripped from Lupin's nose, and Sirius now had a black eye.
"I apologize for my attitude," Sirius said to Harry, "Remus made me see reason."
Hermione stood with Lupin's hand.
"To be effective," Lupin said, "Not only do you need to be aware of your own strengths and weaknesses, but also those of your friends. Also, never let your own weakness hinder your friends from developing their strengths."
"Put simply," Sirius said, "You need to know yourself—not the smut of the Daily Prophet."
"We already know ourselves," Ron said.
Lupin turned his sullen eyes on Ron.
"What exactly will Hermione do next?" Lupin asked.
Ron felt the upward tug on the back of his trousers.
"Wedgie?" Hermione asked.
"Think we're done for the day," Lupin said, "Not going to ask you to write essays—if you're smart, you'll do them yourselves without prompting."
Harry groaned. Ron kept his agreement quiet, as he felt the push.
"Got homework," came Hermione's voice.
Ron marched forward, behind Harry, as they went back up the stairs, into the living room. Ron glanced out at the tug–boat moving by in the rough waves beneath the mostly cloudy early–afternoon skies.
"Where are we?" Ron asked
"Wales," Lupin said, "Mogmore is nearby, some distance from Cardiff."
"Ready?" Harry asked, holding his Hogwarts Pin.
Ron grabbed his book–bag, put the strap over his shoulder as Harry activated his pin. Ron touched it, next to Hermione's finger, and they were pulled away. A moment later, they landed in Gia's bedroom. A dull thumping came from downstairs.
"Must be the contractors," Harry said, still standing there.
"We can still study—" Hermione started.
"Her," Harry said.
Pop!
Harry disapparated.
"He requires a license!" Hermione said.
"Try telling him that," Ron said.
"I will," Hermione said, "After enlightening him about Lupin's rubbish against enchantments—"
"If it works for Harry," Ron said, "Why argue—?"
"After that PRANK!" Hermione said, "Like I wanted FIRE—"
"That was his nightmare of last night!" Ron said.
"That bad?" Hermione asked, removing her Hogwarts gray jumper.
"Let's study," Ron said as he took a step closer to Hermione, his hands reached for her shoulders.
"HOMEWORK!" Hermione said, reaching for the door. She opened the door knob.
"Ladies first," Ron said.
Hermione went first.
Hoot!
Ron turned for Hedwig, stepped over, handed her an owl treat before he ran to catch up with Hermione going down the stairs.
"Wonder where Harry went?" Hermione asked.
"One guess," Ron replied.
"Right," Hermione said.
Grumble
Hours later, Hermione felt the stomach growling against the her feet, her legs stretched out beneath the table, her toes curled against Ron. Ron still sitting on that chair, head forward, his outstretched arms, elbows on the dining room table, as he watched over his own essay. Hermione took her quill, glanced at the diagram she attempted—knew she wasn't allowed to charm her quill to draw the picture. Ron's blue eyes glanced upward, at her, the twinkling stirred a bit of passion within her, as if he was checking up on her.
"Not copying this," Hermione said.
"Wouldn't ask to," Ron replied.
Hermione sketched the wand on her parchment, illustrated the break bound in spell–o–tape. She wrote at the handle, "EAT SLUGS!"
Hermione snickered.
"What?" Ron asked.
"Nothing," Hermione replied.
Hermione began her calculations, estimating the length of the breakage, of the curse traveling along that old wand. Seemed fitting, the uttering from a boy trying to protect. He kept writing on his parchment.
"When you get a chance," Ron said, "My transfiguration could use a once over."
"Not writing it for you," Hermione said.
"I know that," Ron said.
Hermione stretched her feet back toward her.
"Glad you're not upset about earlier," Ron quipped.
"Harry," Hermione said, "He…" She couldn't put words to it.
"We…we can't separate at school cause one of us might get attacked," Ron said, "Here…we can go off and do our own things. Him, he's…"
"Apparating, to her," Hermione said.
"Most likely," Ron said.
"Mum!" came the holler as the front door slammed.
"UPSTAIRS!" came Kristen's shout.
Footsteps stomped up the stairs.
"Hello," Ron said as Kristen entered the dining room.
Light reflected off the livery on her uniform, the windows outside a tad dark with the evening setting in.
"See the crew got some work done," Kristen said, turned toward the study.
"Here when we… got back from school," Ron said.
Ceiling shook with the stomping upstairs.
"Wish you'd teach your habits to her," Kristen said as she left the dining room.
Hermione wondered about Harry for a moment when the back sliding door opened. A blast of cool air and she shivered. Black haired, light skinned, Harry walked along the other side of the table, he stopped next to Ron. Harry's finger tapped on Ron's shoulder. Ron turned.
"You wouldn't believe where I ended up!" Harry said.
Gia came up to Hermione.
"Girl's locker room," Harry said, "Guess that's where she was."
"Oh," Ron said, "Um…got an idea."
Ron stood, Harry followed as they left the dining room.
"Harry thought he could simply stroll—" Jen started.
"He didn't stroll in," Gia said.
"What would you call it then?" Jen asked.
"Homework," Richard suggested, a clear change of topic.
"Upstairs?" Gia said to Hermione, "Come back to that later?"
Hermione stood, half appreciative to the suggestion.
"It's not like you could keep Harry away from Gia," Richard said.
Hermione was a tad unsure to Richard's meaning, but silently agreed that if Harry was Apparating to her, not much would keep them apart. Hermione went up the stairs, changed with Gia, and headed for Richard's bedroom.
"Got your homework?" Richard asked Jen.
Richard, already on his bed, as Jen sat on the floor. Hermione and Gia went out onto the roof deck, where Kristen was already in the water of the hot tub beneath the cool and dark evening sky.
"ANDREA!" Kristen shouted.
"Um…" Gia muttered.
"You're more than fine," Kristen said.
Gia stepped in first, let the water submerge most of her, the hair over the edge. Hermione stepped in, sat on the edge, feet in the water, straddled the tub's light misaimed back upward. Hermione glanced at the brown haired Kristen, the straps of her blue swim top showed above the water.
"Home early?" Gia asked.
"Busted again," Kristen said, "And no, an incident at your school doesn't qualify me to override the overtime rules, so I had to come home. Know what happened?"
"Nothing important," Gia said.
Hermione realized Gia lied, when Andy came out onto the deck along with Jen.
"Mum!" Andy protested.
"In," Kristen said to Andy, "Wish I could trust you out of my sight, but I don't."
Jen came in, her brown bush submerged as she sat in the water to Hermione's right. Andy stood between Jen and Kristen. Kristen pulled down on Andy's right hand, and Andy sat into the water. In a matter of seconds, all eyes focused on Hermione.
"You've become…comfortable," Kristen commented.
"It's…" Hermione started while her brain processed. "I blame the boys."
Kristen snorted.
"I…" Hermione stuttered.
"It's confidence," Jen said, "Richard's became way more confident."
"And Harry," Gia said.
Hermione nodded.
"They certainly are more confident," Kristen said, "I'll grant you that."
"It sorta…just happened," Hermione admitted, "I'd rather hang out with them. If I see their todgers…it's a bonus."
They snickered.
"Tell a lot about a boy from their todger," Andy said.
"Andrea!" Kristen said.
"It's true," Andy said.
"What hours are your school?" Kristen asked, clear she was changing the topic.
"Usual," Gia said.
"I meant Hermione," Kristen said, "Contractor mentioned you showed up early."
"Um…like…our issues haven't gone away," Hermione said, wishing they'd talk about something less personal. "Not our fault."
"Busted?" Andy asked.
"Harry showed up at the right time," Gia said.
"He did something—it stopped Derek," Jen said.
"Harry was in the girls' locker room?" Kristen asked.
"Starkers?" Andy asked.
"He stood up to Derek," Gia said.
"A starkers boy is asking for trouble," Andy said.
"Then you don't understand Harry or Ron," Hermione said, "They handle themselves quite well."
"Clothes don't make a person," Jen said, "They are who they are."
The other door to the roof deck opened.
"Derek was dressed when he came into the girls' locker room," Gia said, "I wouldn't trust him in a straight jacket."
"Honey?" asked Kurt, wrapped with a towel around his waist.
"I'll…" Kristen said, her eyes went between the other girls in the tub, a look Hermione recognized as a mind was changing, "Excuse me."
Kristen's blue two–piece swimsuit showed as she stood up. Kurt handed her a towel with his left hand. Both went back through that door. Andy slipped over to where Kristen had been.
"Boys are better starkers anyways," Andy said, "Can't trust them unless you know what their todger is up to."
Hermione shook her head as she realized she had grown fond of his features. Hermione wondered for a moment what Harry and Ron were up to.
Earlier, while Hermione was still in the dining room, Harry followed Ron up the stairs, and they entered Gia's bedroom. Ron threw Harry's Firebolt at him.
"It's a muggle town," Harry said.
"Don't let 'em see us," Ron said, sliding the window open.
Hoot!
Harry turned out the light.
"Come Hedwig," Harry said.
Harry saddled over the handle of his Firebolt between his legs. He wandlessly cast the charm, the SEP over himself, and about jumped as he bolted out of the window into the cool evening with clouds above. Goosebumps came across his skin, the houses below, as he made a sharp left turn to follow Hedwig.
"Remember I ain't as fast!" Ron shouted.
Harry followed the white wings into the trees between the houses, to join up with the brook. Harry relaxed. Cool wind blew across him as he rode. A branch of a tree rubbed against his shoulder.
Hoot!
Hedwig swooped down, returned to use Harry's broom handle as a perch ahead of him, a mouse in her beak.
"Good catch," Harry said as he slowed a bit down.
Harry's eyes, already adjusted to the dim light reflecting off the clouds above, a bit of moonlight found a crack to show Ron catching up. Light skin, the red hair, blue eyes glanced over at Harry.
"Better?" Ron asked.
Harry didn't need the words, the muscles relaxed as he became one with the broom, flying with the bristles cushioned away from his butt.
Hoot!
Hedwig flew off the broom.
"Yeah," Harry confessed.
"Still gotta be careful," Ron said, "Don't wanna be seen!"
It took Harry a moment to realize he was about to leave the trees, spotted the leveled plat where Hermione's house used to stand, and pulled back to his left. Harry saw wings of white flying ahead.
"There!" Ron said, pointed.
Together, they flew up and over, crossing their fingers nobody was paying attention over the motorway, and headed for the country club. A pull to the left, they flew toward the courses, away from the lit up building with limousines outside. Past it, they made for the grass deep into the empty golf course.
"And, I found this," Ron said, tossing a round white and black object between his hands, "Catch!"
Ron threw the round object, Harry recognized it as a football as it landed in his hands. Harry threw it back at Ron.
…
The keeper checked his pocket watch, on the backside of the Noigate Country Club.
"He's late," the Keeper grumbled
"Perhaps he's being horny," said the Chaser, "Wouldn't be his first time with his serpent."
"Those worked excellently," the Keeper said.
"Careful," the Chaser said, a push to the side as the back door was fidgeted with, "Which muggle are we after?"
"Reports of magic near muggles had to be investigated," the Keeper said.
"Others would be more suited to the task," the Chaser said.
"Indisposed," the Keeper said, thought he spotted brooms in the corner of his eye, "Perhaps it was a false alarm."