In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 85: Unthaw
Harry woke Tuesday morning and felt Hermione next to him, heard the snore Ron. Harry rolled, stepped over Gia, his feet hit the floor. One step, two, he got to the landing.
"Mum's downstairs," warned Richard.
Harry wanted to get away, wanted to run, and held Richard, summoned the desire to run unrestricted. A breeze, sand beneath their feet, the coolness. Darkness to either side, the waves to their left, the beach to their right, and a lap of wetness hit their feet.
"Bit further than right out of the house," Richard said.
No lights aside from a bit of starlight from above, the slight hint of dawn that set upon them.
"Good," Harry said, "Nobody shooting at us."
Sand between the toes, Harry ran.
"Find a phone and call my Mum?" Richard asked, running next to him.
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Her expression," Richard said.
"She's already going mental," Harry said.
"True," Richard said.
They stopped again about ten minutes later.
"Think it's…Isle of Wight," Richard said.
"That's not home," Harry said, "Cool, nobody's expecting us here."
"You're coming to school?" Richard asked.
"Hermione—still have her relatives to tend to," Harry said.
"Sorry about that," Richard said, "Not pleasant."
"Nope," Harry said.
They kept running, their heels, their toes, both left the footprints in the sand being washed over. Harry stopped as Richard tumbled, and Harry landed on top of him. Arms interlocked, the legs interlocked. A twist, they wrestled, and they laughed on the sand.
"Sorry," Harry said, "Felt good."
Richard laughed, and they stood. Now covered in sand.
"Best to get back," Richard said.
Harry pulled out his Hogwarts Pin, activated it, and pressed it against Richard.
"Whoa!" Richard exclaimed, as they were pulled fast.
"Safest," Harry said.
They landed in Gia's bedroom.
"Harry," Ron said.
Brown hair, Richard left the bedroom.
"Where've you been?" came Kristen's shout.
"Running," Richard said.
"You're—" Kristen started.
"Have been," Richard said, turning.
"Sand all over the place?" Kristen stammered.
"Where'd you run?" Ron asked.
Harry shrugged, they'd only speculated, didn't know exactly where. Harry went, closed the lavatory door as he entered. Waited as Richard showered.
"Bit long but fun," Richard said, "Maybe next trip we go there?"
"Maybe," Harry said.
"Plumbing's going to take a beating," Richard said.
"About burned down the house," Harry said, "Doubt they're worried."
"True," Richard said.
Few minutes later, Harry went down the stairs. He felt it, the good mood continued as he entered the dining room. Hermione, Gia, and Ron were there, eating from their plates. Harry reached over, as Ron watched, grabbed the sausage from Ron's plate, ate it.
"You're chipper," Ron said, "Good run?"
"Yeah," Harry said, sitting across from Ron.
Gia grinned.
"Best if you—don't," Ron said as he pulled The Daily Prophet away from Harry.
Harry reached, half summoned it, and brought it to him.
"That's more than you need," Ron said.
Harry read the first letter to the editor.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Dear Editor,
Dumbledore's lost all respect. How'd he let Potter slide so badly that he's assisting Potter, endorsing Potter's ascension? Wish Dark Wizard Potter had the decency to use one of those knives to slit his own throat, it'd save us a heap of trouble.
Barney Foetor, Exeter
Harry moved to the next one.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Dear Editor,
Eradicate Potter, problem solved.
Gumble Smith, Manchester
"They love you," Ron said, "Go for another run."
"Sounds—" Harry started, wondered if he'd return.
"No!" Hermione said, "Got practice with Lupin!"
"Got other things to worry about," Harry stated.
"I'll come with you," Ron said to Hermione.
Gia stood, Harry followed her out, up the stairs, into her bedroom.
"You're alright?" Gia asked.
Harry leaned in, kissed her.
"Before you think about it," said Richard at the door, "It'd drive my Mum crazy if you tried going faster."
"Um…" Harry muttered.
"Mean it," Richard said, "We're all listed—rather you're with us if shit goes down."
"Oh," Harry said.
"Focus," Gia said.
Harry turned his attention back to her.
"Go starkers," Harry said.
"It's school, can't," Gia said as she reached for her protective vest, "You shouldn't either."
"Oh," Harry said, turned for the closet.
Harry reached, grabbed his Gryffindor tie, ran it around his neck, and tightened it up over his shirt. Gia already had on a low cut blouse, panties. However, he spotted it in her eyes, the straightness of the red and yellow diagonally stripped tie.
"That'll work," Gia said.
Gia's hand to his back, and they went out the door, down the steps, and to the front door. Andy, Richard, and Jen followed them out into the reasonable winter weather despite the clouds in the sky.
"This sucks," Andy said as they walked.
Two officers in front, Ernie and Arnold, Kristen followed up the rear, Richard and Jen in between. Snuffles ran off to the side.
"Your education is your future," Kristen said, "Need to focus on it."
"We're breeding FREAKS!" Andy said.
Harry spotted Moody numerous times, felt the ridiculousness of the size of this party. Wondered if he should duck back home and apparate to Gia, but knew that'd get noticed with all these muggles around him. Bit slower than he'd like, the bell already rang as they reached the school, the construction of the permanent classrooms went on. Harry walked with Gia, entered the portable classroom with her and Richard.
"Good morning," said Mr. Cooper.
Harry summoned up a chair, sat next to Gia, and watched.
Hours later, Harry listened to Mr. Newgale when the bell sounded. Gia stood with him, and they left the classroom into the decent air. Arnold was outside, Snuffles behind him.
"Lunch next, right?" Arnold asked.
Richard and Jen joined up, and they walked between the portable classrooms.
"You'd think they'd get the cafeteria first," Gia grumbled.
A glance to the side, Harry spotted the forms of the construction workers pouring the concrete.
"Classrooms?" Harry said.
"Should be science first," Richard said.
Arnold left as they entered the front doors of Smeltings.
"Creepy," Harry said, "Being in here."
"Same as usual," Gia replied.
Richard, Jen, and Gia loitered as Harry slowed down. Harry spotted his reflection in the glass of their trophy displays, his Gryffindor tie. Harry's eyes went across the names.
"Expecting…?" Gia asked.
Harry pointed it out, the award for Fattest Student, with the five listings for Dudley Dursley, though he went down into the years past where Vernon Dursley was also listed six times.
"Like father like son," Harry muttered.
Harry felt the floor shake, turned. Dudley, with two behind him, in their sharp Smeltings Uniforms, stepped from the stairs and blocked the way to the cafeteria.
"What are you doing here?" Dudley demanded.
Richard, Jen, and Gia stood behind Harry. Eyes exchanged their glares, Harry focused on his cousin, the disgust backed up the face. Harry spotted the outline in Dudley's pocket, a carton of cigarettes, a thought, they moved and fell; slid until Harry's foot pressed them down.
"Need a tail?" Harry asked, "Or a snout?"
"You're a freak!" Dudley exclaimed, "This is my school!"
Harry approached Dudley, raised his hands.
"Perhaps—" Harry's fingers opened as he flung his hands forward at Dudley. "Hocus pocus!"
"No—no!" Dudley's hands moved fast to reach his rear, unable to.
Piers backed away. Harry grabbed the carton of cigarettes that flew up to his hand, stuffed them into Dudley's shirt pocket.
"Be quiet then," Harry said.
Harry walked first, past Dudley, and down the corridor.
"Hocus pocus?" Jen asked, "He's scared of hocus pocus?"
Took Harry a moment.
"It's something else," Harry said, "Between him and me."
Gia walked with Harry into the cafeteria, she led the way to the queue and purchased extra helpings of the macaroni and cheese, the chips. Harry scanned around the mostly full room, spotted an open seat among many Smeltings students.
"Here?" Gia asked.
Harry sat with her, the pair of brown haired teenage boys to the other end at this long table.
"It's our turf!" the one said, the one with lighter brown hair, a bit bigger.
"Have a right—" Harry said, "Pass the salt."
The smaller dark brown haired boy threw the shaker without concern. Harry though, caught it.
"Ta," Harry said, handed it over to Gia.
"Somebody says we need to teach you a lesson," that lighter haired boy said.
"Join the queue," Harry said.
"We intend—" the dark brown haired boy pounded his fist hard, when the screams started.
"SHE STOLE MY PURSE!" A brunette Smeltings girl pointed as she stood.
Harry spotted the fast movement, the usual brown hair, of Andy running fast for a side door. Harry was on his feet on the table before he knew it, bolted from table to table, and jumped. Harry tackled Andy to the linoleum floor, pinned her.
"Going somewhere?" Harry asked.
"It's the freak!" Andy screamed as she let go of the purse.
Hands reached down to Andy's collar, lifted.
"You're coming with me," said the large burly Smeltings security guard.
"HE—HEXED ME!" Andy screamed.
Harry stood.
"Thanks," the Security Guard said to Harry.
Harry turned, walked back to Gia, sat down with her.
"Sorry about that earlier," said the light brown haired boy, "You're alright, I'm Donald."
"You picked on fatso," the dark haired boy said.
"Dudley?" Harry asked, "Dudley Dursley?"
"You know that bloke?" the dark haired boy said, "I'm Ivan."
"My cousin," Harry said, "Sorry about him, family's…"
Harry drifted off, unsure if he really wanted to air that here.
"Thought I'd try her day," Harry said with a gentle nod toward Gia.
Harry sighed, mostly watched, except for a couple of forks of the macaroni and cheese Gia shoveled into his mouth. He listened to Ivan and Donald rant about Dudley, until the food was finished.
"Thank you," Gia said to Ivan and Donald, "See you around."
Gia and Harry stood, headed for the main door.
"MUM!" Andy protested, her hands cuffed behind her back, the shirt torn, as Kristen pulled. "All his fault! All Harry's FAULT!"
Kristen rolled her eyes, escorted Andy to the rear seat of the car. Harry watched the restraints applied. Kristen turned, spotted the concern, the lack of escort.
"We'll manage," Harry assured her.
A groan, both knew his track record to accepting protection, as Harry was standing there in the school entrance with his Gryffindor tie hanging from his neck. A start of the engine, the car moved.
"Theater, right?" Harry asked.
"Drama," Gia said.
They returned across the lawn, across the footpath, back to the grid of white portable classrooms. They walked along, to one, Snuffles entered the classroom behind Harry and Gia.
"I know you're having a fun time here," Gia said, "Know what the sexiest thing you can do right now?"
Harry glanced at her, and she worked the wrinkle out of his tie.
"Work on sorting out your troubles," Gia said.
A kiss between their lips, and Harry understood. He closed his eyes and focused. A change in air, the hoot of Hedwig, Harry opened his eyes. Snow white feathers, Harry stroked the feathers, set the shopping bag down onto the bed. Strap to his shoulder, the book–bag on his hip, he went down the steps, and sat at the dining room table. Stupefy! Stunnington's Auror Handbook out, he began to read the twelfth chapter.
Ron went to head out the bedroom early Wednesday morning.
"Tell him not to ditch!" came Kristen's voice from below.
Richard climbed the stairs, the protective vest on his chest, the shorts beneath it.
"Where's Harry?" Ron asked.
A noise in the lavatory, a giggling from the shower.
"Mum's annoyed at not protecting him," Richard said.
"That's definitely him," Ron said.
Few minutes later, Harry and Gia entered the bedroom. Towels dropped as they dressed. Gia worked on her protective vest.
"Hermione," Harry said, "School?"
"They still need me," Hermione said.
"You know," Ron said, "At least at school it's ironed."
"Welcome to iron it," Gia said.
"Used to slave labor," Hermione grumbled.
Harry kissed Gia. Ron grabbed his book–bag.
"Harry?" Ron asked.
Harry pulled out his Portkey, activated it, Ron held it.
"You know," Harry said, "Think it's apparation."
"Your run?" Ron asked.
"Beach—Richard thought it was the Isle of Wight yesterday," Harry said, "Could've been Jersey."
They landed in the dormitory.
"Bloody read up," Ron said as he sat at the table, "You're headed for trouble if you don't."
Ron noticed Harry staring out the window, again, to the dim light, with some rain going down the glass.
"Like we're not headed for that already," Harry said.
"Don't be the cause of it," Ron said, "Be smart about it."
"I'm not Hermione," Harry said.
Ron snorted.
"I'd be a bit worried if you were," Ron said, "Think the todger's a hint."
Harry snorted.
"Eat up," Ron said to Harry.
"Not hungry," Harry said, "Know you're pushing—I'm not."
"Put on a pair of knockers," Ron said, "Need beans on them?"
Harry shook his head.
"More to her than that," Harry said.
"I know," Ron said, "She loves your wand, both of them."
Harry blushed a bit.
"Hermione…" Ron reached for the oatmeal. "After we banged in the cathedral…"
Harry laughed.
"Not funny," Ron said, "Was suggested…marriage."
"Oh, that's a bit extreme," Harry said.
"Love her and all," Ron said.
"Valentine's Day is Friday," Harry said.
"And the service," Ron said, "Think how that'd sound, sorry your aunt and uncle were killed, can we live happily ever after?"
Ron stood, grabbed his book bag.
"Suppose there's worse places to propose," Harry said as they left the dormitory. "I had to, of course, to keep her, stupid committee thinking they know how to run my life when they only know The Daily Prophet."
Ron jumped the steps as Harry jumped them, their feet echoed on the floor.
"Got four citations that say you love her," Harry said.
Ron snorted, remembered the night.
"I can be best man," Harry said.
They walked beneath the effigies hanging high in the common room, went out into the seventh floor corridor.
"Still," Harry continued, "Can you imagine her with somebody else? Say Neville?"
"He's into Luna," Ron said.
"Ask Neville to trade girlfriends?" Harry asked.
"No," Ron said.
Harry stopped on the fifth floor corridor, those bottle greens focused on Ron.
"Everybody says it's going to get way, way worse," Harry said, "Make things go better. Think about it, she has."
"Yeah," Ron said.
They continued, entered Professor McGonagall's office a short bit later. She was on the threshold of leaving.
"Oh, yes," Professor McGonagall said, her wand aimed.
Sheets of parchment floated, summoned from her desk into their hands.
"Hermione's still … family," Ron said.
"Understood," Professor McGonagall said, "If you'll excuse me."
Harry led Ron out, and they walked along. First line on their schedules, the Care of Magical Creatures. They slowed as they approached the top of the marble staircase. Neville faced a small army of armor, the metal hand of one on Neville's shoulder.
"It's an optional course," Finnigan said, "Marks mean nothing."
"I need it," Neville said, "Can't go skipping class."
"Claim you're sick," Finnigan said, "Anything to save your pretty hide."
"Seriously," Thomas said, "You're not a sympathizer, are you?"
Ron caught Harry's fast glance upward, toward Peeves on the chandelier. However, a fast rain poured out of them. Rust spread fast as the water went over the shiny armor, turning into trails of red iron oxide. A bit of a scream as the armor moved fast, into the Great Hall.
"Peeves!" came Professor McGonagall's shout as she approached.
Peeves cackled. "Wasn't me!"
Harry went down the steps, Ron did too, the smile came to Neville's face. The three went out the front door, into the light rain, thunder in the distance. Ron noticed it as they approached Hagrid's Hut, only Hagrid.
"Yer it?" Hagrid asked.
"Others," Neville said, "Skipping classes until…they don't want to attend with…sorry Harry, you."
"Great!" Harry grumbled.
Rain thickened, the thunder approached fast.
"They lose points," Hagrid said.
A downpour, a lightning bolt struck a tree nearby.
"Inside!" Hagrid shouted.
Quick, Harry and Neville first, Ron and Hagrid followed, into Hagrid's Hut. A near sheet of water outside the windows, the flashes of light, the roof kept it at bay.
"Guess it's tea time," Hagrid said, pulling the pot off the spot on the fireplace, "Enough."
Harry divvied up tea bags to the cups, Hagrid poured the hot water. Hagrid sat.
"Heard yeh showing your true colors," Hagrid said to Neville.
Neville stood there, as he stirred his tea.
"Can't always stand up to them," Neville said, "Trying."
"Thank you," Harry said.
Ron blew across the mug in his hands, watched the steam move off, waited a bit more. Harry turned, faced the fireplace.
"Means a lot," Harry said, "Lost track of the effigies, the graffiti on the walls, the number of snares or worse aimed at me. To me, feels like Hogwarts' lost, my home's no longer here, nor is it safe."
"Always safe in here," Hagrid said.
"You rescued me," Harry said, "I wouldn't have even made it to Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts loves you," Neville said.
"I've been rejected," Harry said.
Ron sipped at his tea.
"Luna came across a strange book," Neville said, "Claims we're about to see the destruction of Hogwarts."
"Blimey, NO!" Hagrid said, "Hogwarts' about the safest place ever."
"Written at the time of Gryffindor himself," Neville said, "Said the worst dark lord to ever live, is now, and that only you Harry, can defeat him."
"Me?" Harry asked.
"By name," Neville said, "Yes you."
"Did he?" Ron asked.
"Doesn't seem to say," Neville said, "One hell of a prophecy if true."
Ron agreed with that.
"That'd explain Voldemort's attitude," Harry said.
"It'd never been checked out before," Neville said, "Luna thinks she's the first eyes to read it in a thousand years."
"Don't tell that to Hermione," Ron said.
Ring!
Harry stood first, Ron next to him, two of the three students in the classroom, left first.
"Practice," Ron said.
A stream of blue Quidditch robes that flew past them.
"Showing off," Harry grumbled.
Down the steps, to the ground floor, entered the Wood's office. Wood set down his quill, though the sheets of parchment, quizzes remained in his lap, the legs stretched with his feet up on the desk.
"Hi gents," Wood said.
"Thought we had practice scheduled," Ron said, "Ginny—"
"Sorry," Wood said, "Only a captain, their deputy, or head of house can schedule time on the Quidditch Pitch. Besides, odds didn't favor you lasting the day."
"We survived because we became their favorite excuse to cut class," Harry stated.
"Here." Wood shifted the stack of quizzes to his desk, grabbed another sheet of parchment, handed it to Ron. "Designate a deputy captain, or whatever you want to call them, and authorize them to act on your behalf. Make sure you trust them."
Ron took a quill, entered Ginny's name, signed it, and handed it over.
"I'll bring this to Professor McGonagall later," Wood said, "She'll endorse it. Anyways, do anything about your broom situation?"
"Not yet," Harry said.
"Encouragement," Wood said as he stood, "Witness, the school brooms." Wood grabbed a couple. "And follow."
Harry and Ron followed Wood out of the office, right, to the courtyard. Wood handed one to Harry.
"Try it out," Wood said.
Harry put his leg over it, and commanded it to fly. Up he went, like a snail, before he came back down. Ron did the same.
"As per Hogwarts policy," Wood said, "Anybody who doesn't have a broom will be provided one of these, which might've been in the castle when Hogwarts was first established, I don't know. I suggest you get something better before the next match."
"How'd I get something if I can't set foot in Quality Quidditch Supplies?" Harry asked.
"I'll get you a copy of Which Broomstick," Wood said, "It'll at least have options for the Firebolt, if that's what you want to go with."
"Thanks," Harry said.
"Money comes from you," Wood said.
"Understood," Harry said.
Harry and Ron turned around, back into the corridor. Harry pulled out his Portkey, activated it, Ron held on. A minute later, they landed in Gia's bedroom.
"Gia," Harry said, the thought of her.
Hoot!
Harry turned, stroked a couple of Hedwig's white feathers as a brown owl dropped a rolled up tube onto the desk. Harry went over and opened the tube addressed to him. Out slid Which Broomstick, the March edition, along with a letter.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Harry,
Relax, will you? Thought you had better faith in us, and you have bigger things to worry about than a broom. Still, you couldn't order if you wanted to, Quality Quidditch Supplies now require positive identification with every order, to make sure you're not buying one. Enclosed is something to wank over.
George and Fred
Harry opened the catalog, the brooms on each page, the specifications and the sale prices.
"He's right," Harry said, "We buy—how do we know it's not jinxed?"
"You may be able to afford two thousand," Ron said, "I can't—anybody to fence will want three."
Harry handed the catalog over to Ron.
"Oh," Ron said, "Firebolt II…delayed, hopeful for Christmas."
"I'll…" Harry disapparated with his thoughts on Gia.
Ron returned to Gia's bedroom Thursday morning. Gia worked on her protective vest.
"Hogwarts or Cardiff?" Ron asked Hermione, already sitting on the bed.
"When's the service?" Gia asked.
"Tomorrow afternoon," Hermione said, her eyes vacant.
"Don't show up," Ron said, "They'll think we've killed you."
"That's not funny," Hermione said.
"It's what they suggested yesterday," Ron said.
"Anything in Cardiff today?" Gia asked Hermione.
Hermione shook her head.
"Aunt Cheryl and Mark are at Lupin's," Hermione said, "But they're family, so I'll be with them."
"I'll meet up after school," Ron said.
"Ta," Hermione said.
Harry and Richard appeared, landed, the sand dropped from their clothes. Harry stashed his Portkey.
"At least you used that," Ron said to Harry.
Hermione glanced at Ron as Richard left the bedroom.
"I'm taking Kristen up," Gia said to Harry, "I know it's a bit…excessive, given you can get me there like—" she snapped her fingers. "She's trying to be a protective mother hen, I'm letting her."
Gia kissed Harry, went out the door.
"You?" Harry asked Hermione.
"Cardiff," Hermione said, taking out the Portkey as she stood. She activated it
"Guess it's us," Ron said to Harry.
"Yep," Harry said.
Later, Harry and Ron walked along the first floor corridor, approached the transfiguration classroom. Professor McGonagall's hand to Harry's arm, they stopped.
"Pardon my indulgence," Professor McGonagall said, "Disillusion and come in on cue."
Harry's wand out, Ron's out, as they cast the charm on themselves. Professor McGonagall simply stood, waited. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, in their shiny metal, clunked past into the classroom. Professor McGonagall moved the door stop, kept it a bit open as she entered.
"Uno modo Inlusio!" Harry whispered, the door turned transparent for them.
"I remind you," Professor McGonagall said, "Armor is not to be worn in this class."
"Told you," said Draco Malfoy, near the back of the classroom.
"Is Potter suspended?" asked Dean Thomas.
"I assure that you're safe within this classroom," said Professor McGonagall, "I've never been so disappointed in Gryffindor than I have this year.
"Talk to the resident Dark Wizards," Seamus Finnigan snapped.
"Remove your armor," Professor McGonagall said, "You have all passed your OWLs, so you have the option to cease your attendance at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and catch the train back to London."
"That's unfair!" exclaimed Ernie Macmillan.
"That's the option you're imposing on your classmates," Professor McGonagall said, "Remove that, unless you're dreaming of being stripped by your teachers."
Clunking and clanging was heard, as the armor was taken off, stored in the back of the classroom.
"Remember what the second half of this school's name is?" Professor McGonagall said, "It stands for Witchcraft and Wizardry, a school that practices our talents. While you're so busy persecuting three, you're unable to think, unable to recall the enemies they've had for years, enemies that'd benefit from the divisions you've formed, enemies that'll only reveal themselves once their wands are casting Killing Curses at you."
"You–Know–Who's dead!" Parvati Patil protested. Padma Patil, next to Parvati, nodded.
"There's more than one practitioner—a whole group of them followed the Dark Lord," Professor McGonagall said, "So even if you believe in the death of you–know–who, other enemies are still out there seeking to get even, and you've unwittenly become puppets in their plans."
"Hogsmeade murders!" Seamus Finnigan protested, fist pounded on the desk.
Professor McGonagall walked the aisle to him.
"As proud as I am in the wizarding community," Professor McGonagall said, "Our desire to make a thorough investigation is non–existent. Books are in the library on invisibility, have potions for impersonation. You're so bent on convicting with little solid evidence, aside from the same that's readily manufacturable."
Professor McGonagall moved to Parvati Patil.
"Miss. Patil," Professor McGonagall said, "I had it on good authority that it was somebody else raping you last month, instead we convicted the one being framed."
"Dozens of people witnessed it!" Padma Patil protested.
"Exactly my point," Professor McGonagall said, "The impostor could've been among you laughing as the punishment was doled out to the wrong person, he raped you and inflicted grievous injury to Mr. Potter."
"Sorry Professor," Dean Thomas said, "We don't believe you."
Professor McGonagall approached the olive skinned boy.
"As you're aware," Professor McGonagall said, "The accused do not spend much time at Hogwarts. Yet, they've been accused of acts while unable to return."
"We still don't believe you," Brown said.
"Thank you for your sincerity Miss. Brown," said Professor McGonagall, "I'm asking you to keep an open mind and to think for yourselves, as your fears are being played to by the Death Eaters and Voldemort."
"Blimey!" Dean Thomas said, "Don't say—"
"For the purpose of the essay," Professor McGonagall said, "Consider them innocent for three incidents that you've witnessed, and for each incident research three ways that it could've been a setup."
"We don't believe that," Seamus Finnigan stated.
"For this assignment, you will," Professor McGonagall said, "And Mr. Finnigan, you will include the Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff as one of those incidents.
"It's not Transfiguration," Lavender Brown said.
"This is a school and becoming critical thinkers is part of the curriculum," Professor McGonagall said, "This assignment will be completed by yourselves and will be done by the end of next week."
"Don't believe this," whispered Anthony Goldstein.
"Fuck off," said Michael Corner.
"Do you wish to study human transfiguration?" Professor McGonagall said, "Cue, need some volunteers."
Harry opened the door, Ron followed. The glares, as Harry and Ron took the center.
"Simple crocodile," said Professor McGonagall to Ron.
Ron's wand out, his cuffs about his wrists, he did his swish and flick, aimed at Harry, and knew Hermione was missing out.
…
Neville fiddled with his trousers as he sat there, watched as Harry turned Ron into a badger, restored him.
"Will you stop that?" asked Seamus Finnigan.
"What?" Neville asked.
"You're playing with yourself Longbottom," Seamus Finnigan said.
Glance downward, fingers near his crotch.
"You're watching?" Neville said, "Keep staring and I wank."
"About the only thing of any interest," Seamus Finnigan said, "You're thinking of them."
Seamus Finnigan's eyes moved, clear they were eyeing Padma and Parvati Patil.
"Only wish they wouldn't restore," Seamus Finnigan muttered as Harry returned to his normal form.
Ring!
"Remember your reports," said Professor McGonagall.
Neville stood.
"We should've done wand work," Seamus Finnigan said, "Yours is the only other wand with any attention."
Neville was sure he blushed, still, picked up his book–bag, and went for the door.
"UGLY ARSE!" Seamus Finnigan shouted as he went for the armor.
Neville left, went up the steps to the third floor, and entered the Charms classroom. Professor Flitwick, in canary yellow robes, watched as they entered. Neville set his bag down at a desk, but didn't yet sit.
"Where's the aurors?" Professor Flitwick asked as Harry and Ron came in.
"We are scheduled for this lesson," Harry stated.
Harry and Ron stood to the side; Seamus Finnigan entered in his armor.
"I told Albus and Minerva…" Professor Flitwick started, "Then it's a study hall today, I won't teach you."
"It's a class," Neville stated.
"Teach yourselves!" Professor Flitwick snapped.
Professor Flitwick went for the door.
"Wise choice," Draco Malfoy said.
A glare from that Professor toward the white blond haired sixth year. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle smiled, arms folded, their Slytherin Hogwarts uniforms sharp.
"No class?" asked Parvati Patil.
"Nope," said Dean Thomas.
Harry went to lectern, read.
"Blue sparks was the lesson," Harry said, "Seems simple."
"Harry?" Ron asked.
"Anybody that wants to learn this, stay," Harry said, "Lemme try."
Harry's wand out, the armor moved fast to the side of the classroom.
"Caeruleum Neistar!" Harry exclaimed.
A near explosion of blue, the room filled with the sparks above, the embers showered down. By the time Neville's eyes adjusted, the wand was already gone from Harry's hand.
"You've practiced?" asked Padma Patil, sitting at a desk with Parvati.
"No," Harry said, "First try."
"And you killed Granger?" asked Millicent Bulstrode.
"Death in the family," Harry said, "She's tending to that."
"Your doing?" asked Anthony Goldstein, in his metal armor with Ravenclaw colors on it.
"Voldemort's," Harry stated.
Neville recognized the wincing.
"You know," Harry said, "The wizard who killed my parents, tried to kill me? Think you've heard of that?"
"Yeah," Anthony Goldstein sneered.
"Ministry would have you believe a toddler killed a man who feared dying himself?" Harry said, "His cheats were put to the test that night, and so he survived enough to find resurrection, he came back, biding his time to finish the job."
"You're—" Finnigan started.
"You wouldn't by chance know who stole an orphan's inheritance," Harry said, eyes glared directly at Finnigan, "Stole the tears shed to put a bounty on that orphan's head? Do you?"
"Is that where it came from?" Ernie Macmillan asked.
"He didn't tell you?" Harry asked, "If he knows anything."
"She might not've told him," Dean Thomas said, "That Auror he's banging."
"Bother to ask or did you not care?" Harry asked Finnigan, the bottle green eyes focused on Finnigan, "If I were Dark, you'd be dead, but I'm not. Simply got Death Eaters swigging too much polyjuice, and you're sucking up to them. You're the real fool in this room."
"But…" Parvati stammered.
"But what?" Harry said to her, "Ron was about to apprehend the rapist when the Auror stopped him! Maybe the Auror's in on it, or got bribed. Or we take Hogsmeade—somebody with an invisibility cloak watched me go into the store, started killing. Or the second time, when I was in the Alps skiing with my girlfriend. Being innocent shouldn't be gaslit as a technicality—that's the whole point of a proper investigation, one that recognizes we have MAGIC! Funny that."
Neville walked into the aisle.
"I'm not afraid of Harry," Neville said, "Know who my parents are? Aurors tortured by Death Eaters into insanity. If there's even a chance you–know–who is back, I can't do anything but back Harry."
"Sorry you got raped," Harry said to Parvati, "I remember the charm, so I promise to castrate the Death Eater responsible."
"Lets get to the lesson," Ron suggested.
"Yeah," Harry said, "Um… the charm, we can practice."
Neville noticed that many had already left, including all the Slytherins, about half the others.
"Ron?" Harry asked.
"Yeah," Ron said, his wand in his hand, "C..Car…"
"Maybe practice saying the words," Harry said, "Start with caeruleum."
…
A bit later, Harry stood next to Parvati in the aisle of the Charms classroom, unaware to the invisible pair of eyes in the far corner.
"Bit more focus," Harry said, "To support Ravenclaw against Slytherin."
A snicker from Padma Patil, nearby. Harry aimed his wand, swished with her, flicked. A jet of blue sparks came out of her wand.
Ring!
"Thanks," Parvati said to Harry, "Not as bad as the rumors make you out to be."
Harry bowed.
"Still a lousy date," Parvati said.
Harry felt better, stood there as the others left.
"Should tell Professor McGonagall," Ron said, "Can they suspend staff?"
"No," Harry said.
Neville snorted.
"Lunch?" Neville asked.
Harry shrugged. Neville and Ron joined Harry in the walk, through the corridors. Harry skipped at the wires, jumped.
"Most are only rigged up to you?" Neville asked, stepping where Harry had skipped.
"Not all," Harry said, "But yeah, fair share."
Up stairs, to the seventh floor by the shortcut that came out right by the Fat Lady.
"BOYCOTT!" shouted Harry.
They entered and went up the stairs. Harry jumped the odd step here and there.
"You're not trusting a thing," Neville said.
"Nope," Harry said.
"Seen what we've seen?" Ron asked Neville.
Harry pointed at the Die Potter Die! sign affixed to the third year boys' door. They continued, into the sixth year boys' dormitory.
"Yeah," Neville said, "Hope somebody listened to you."
Ron went over to the small table, worked into the chicken. Harry spotted his wardrobe, already open, nothing within, curious, he turned back around.
"Weird day," Harry said.
Neville sat, grabbed a bit of the pasta, ate into that. Door opened, metal armor. Harry's and Ron's wands already out, aimed.
"Relax," said Dean Thomas as he lifted his helmet, "Guess bounties make you a bit jumpy."
"They do," Harry said, "That money's already killed people."
"They have?" Dean Thomas asked.
"At least one police officer," Harry said.
"Damn," Dean Thomas said as he removed his armor, "Sorry, guess as Prefect, I really should give you the benefit of the doubt."
"Been mates up here for years," Neville said, "And you're mad he didn't give you the secret to being in two places at the same time?"
"Maybe my essay…" Dean Thomas said as he knelt down by his trunk.
Dean Thomas opened the lid with his right hand, reached in with his left.
BOOM!
A concussive pressure wave pushed Harry backward, slammed him against the stone wall. Ceiling above ripped away along with the roof, exposing them all to the overcast and strong winds, with cracks and gaps in the walls. A timber of the floor flew downward, exposed the fifth years dormitory below. Dean Thomas' four poster obliterated, Harry's blown out, falling. Ron's bed collapsed, Finnigan's in pieces to the side, while Neville's bed was merely overturned. The table with its food, gone.
Ringing in his ears, Harry spotted Ron motionless on the floor near Harry's feet. Neville wedged against Harry's wardrobe clinging on. In the middle, slumped to the floor, Dean Thomas with a bloody stump for a left arm.
Harry understood the peril, a bomb.
Date: Sat Sep 16 05:52:34 2023