Bad Moon Rising

by saxcuL. the all-knowing

In which, One by one the seals of the Celtic Gods come crumbling down as The Heir to the Hunt finds himself drawn into the middle of it all learning what it means to be a Magician along the way. While the plots and plans of a Dark Lord and an even Darker Queen unfold, and as the shadows retake her castle of old, her newest student will find out her darkest secret.

40. Black Dog

Welcome back to another chapter of Bad Moon Rising, in which we see a lot from a teacher's perspective.

On with the show.

---

Scáthach, Hogwarts.

The Witch-Queen was greatly irritated, a pack of rats had crawled into her school and she sadly had no way to remove it. It wasn't as though she lacked the power to remove the vermin, nor the willingness, it simply wasn't her job to do so. All those months ago after Albus, Minerva, and Severus released her from the Land of Shadow, she and Albus had a meeting. The Headmaster was no fool, he knew what was going to happen as soon as he released her and after she turned it down, they had come to an agreement. Dumbledore would remain, for all intents and purposes, the Headmaster and Scáthach would treat him with the respect that the position commanded. Minerva, being Albus' second in command at the school, was to be treated the same way, though Minerva vehemently refused any sort of treatment like that from Scáthach. The Matron of the House of the Lions had grown up on stories of Dún Scaith and the other Celtic Gods and held reverence for her and the other Dé Danann.

With those two in place, they were to handle the day-to-day running of the school and dealing with the Ministry in the long run while Scáthach handled the classes and teachers in the background and away from the spotlight. When she first started to restructure the school, she was appalled by the state of the school and the classes taught within.

While the overall student count was the lowest it had been in nearly seven hundred years thanks to Tom Riddle and his insurrection killing many families and making many more flee from his cruelty, the count was still high enough to necessitate hiring extra hands to help with the more dangerous classes such as Potions and Care of Magical Creatures, as well as offering guest speakers who were experts in their fields to come and talk to students graduating and moving into said field; or even covering things not normally taught in Hogwarts.

The reason why these oversights were ignored over the last few years was due to how her school was tied to the Ministry of Magic. After the fall of the Wizard's Council and the creation of the Ministry, Hogwarts lost much of its funding from the old families who donated to the school over the many years thanks to many of the old families getting involved with the new government. Thankfully, the first thing Ulick Gamp did was set up a stipend for the school to fund it and all the students, but over many years, that stipend became smaller and smaller until it became a shadow of what it once was at the end of Tom Riddle's war where much of the gold was put toward rebuilding the damages done by him and his Death Eaters.

Now with the current Minister throwing a tantrum like a child over Albus telling him a hard truth, even that small stipend was all but gone. It was only the fact that the catacombs under the school had not been disturbed in all these years that Scáthach was able to fix that problem with relative ease. Back during Scáthach's age, many kings and warlords would send their children with treasures and gold in hopes of swaying her into accepting them into her school. While no amount of gold or silver could sway her into doing anything, she did happily secret it away in hidden vaults beneath the school. The look on Albus' face when she had shown him the vaults was priceless.

It also helps that Cyrus Greengrass tried to pay her for the removal of the blood malediction from his family line, but Scáthach had scoffed at his attempt to pay her anything. She did not do it for any gain, a student of hers was suffering needlessly and she could fix it, that was all there was to it. The infuriating man that was Cyrus Greengrass seemed to pick up on that before he turned around and donated the large sum of gold to the school directly, much to the surprise of both Scáthach and Albus.

With the immediate financial future of her school secured, Scáthach had turned to the two largest problems her school was facing. The first, and most far-off concern, was the increase in the student population that was already beginning to show during this year. After the defeat of Tom Riddle by the spellwork of Lily Potter, there was a major uptick in magical births that happened over the following five years thanks to the first war being over. The first-year class had almost doubled in size compared to the previous four years, and if the trend continued they were looking at over five hundred new students in the next four years alone. This had brought a smile to Scáthach's face when she realized that during the days of her original school the most children she had in her castle learning was around two hundred and fifty. Her immortal heart swelled with joy to know that the little ones that had come to her school to learn had grown so much in her absence.

But with the amount of children coming in, several things needed to be done to prepare for them. Dorms expanded, new staff, more prefects for each house, clearing out and cleaning up old unused classrooms, and hiring new teachers. All these things can and will be done in time, the more immediate concern was the rats scurrying through her school.

After Umbridge had tried, and failed, to flex the Ministry's power in the dueling hall, the Minister decided enough was enough and sent a squad of "aurors'' to the school to make sure the students and staff were following the educational decrees set forth by his office and the Department of Magical Education. The man and woman in token red cloaks were not true aurors as pointed out by Susan Bones, but from the hit-wizard department who acted as riot and patrol peace officers for the magical United Kingdom. They had joined in with the "Hogwarts Special Investigation Team'' for the promise of better pay and promotions to the auror office, but most were the brutish individuals who wanted to slake their own thirst for power and gold; the same type of people who flocked to Tom Riddle's banner during the last war.

And the worst part was that Albus couldn't stop it. He was the one in charge of dealing with this problem, not Scáthach, and thanks to their agreement she could do nothing to remove these irritants from her school, for she had given her word to not involve herself unless both Albus and Minerva were no longer in charge of their offices. While Scáthach did not doubt that The Morrígan could have stopped this from happening, she was sure the Lady of the Fens had another plan in the works by allowing this to happen, for the Queen of the Isles knew as well as Scáthach that many in the Ministry were corrupt and would buckle and break when Tom Riddle finally made his move. Allowing this to happen would give The Morrígan the leeway she needed to begin cutting out the rot from the Ministry as well as annoying Scáthach.

How the leaders of men became those with forked tongues and oily words instead of those who stood on principles and deeds, Scáthach could not understand and she mourned that.

But with this invasion of her school began to cause difficulties between the red Cloaks and her students, namely, the Greaca. It seemed the men and women in red cloaks were given specific orders to harass the Greaca and his friends over the most trivial of things, be it running in the halls, walking too close to Delphini, or even wearing his jacket. Nothing seemed too small to bother the boy over and had almost come to blows on a few occasions. The most heated of them being when one of the patrolmen had grabbed Fand's incarnation and threatened to drag her off to Umbridge for mouthing off to him. The Greaca had almost taken the man's arm off in his anger over touching Miss Lovegood.

Luckily, it didn't get that far by the time she showed up before reminding the red cloaks that they were not allowed to touch the students in any way, it was just a shame that bones were so easily healed with magic. It was after that incident that the Witch-Queen decided that countermeasures would have to be put in place, she could have easily had Cú do it, but where was the fun in that?

After all, she did have a trickster cat that called her school home.

Cait-Sith took to his new task with glee, so long as the red cloaks harassed her students; they would be harassed in turn by it. Spending weeks within the hedge as only an hour passed outside it, driving a few mad with its own abilities and powers, even replacing their wands with rubber ducks. Yes, Cait-Sith very much enjoyed his new job of being a menace to any one of Umbridge's guards in her castle, its pranks and tricks causing quite a few to abandon their post, screaming for their lives and sanity as they were chased from her castle by a simple cat.

Which, in hindsight, is why she was sitting in her classroom with the Headmaster, Umbridge, Michael Ollamh, and some man with a bowler hat ranting about the treatment of the Red Cloaks in her school. Scáthach sat at her desk, leaning back in her chair as she pretended to pay attention to whatever the man was saying with her mind somewhere else as she absentmindedly petted the black and white cat sitting on her lap. The rest of the mortals stood, Albus watching the man with the bowler hat pace back and forth, Umbridge nodding her head along with the man's words like the simpering cow she was, and Michael watching all of this unfold with a look of deep disinterest in what the ranting man was talking about.

Michael Ollamh was once the head of the Circle of the Fianna, he had fought in the Easter Rebellion that would lead to Ireland gaining their freedom from both of the British governments back in the nineteen-twenties. He was a burly man if not a bit on the short side with thinning silver hair and a neatly trimmed beard that he ran his hand through as he listened to the yapping and ranting man, his cold gray eyes far off as he thought. He was dressed in short-sleeved slate gray robes with Gaelic knots and crosses sewn in along the hem in rich gold, a silver, and black checkered Bratt hung from one shoulder pinned in place by the red symbol of the Circle of the Fianna. The handle of a short sword could be seen sticking out from the opening of the Bratt as was the custom of the Fianna, it was enchanted, of course, with the same spells they had been using for the last six hundred odd years.

Michael had abdicated his position of lead knight of the Fianna upon request from Scáthach some months ago when she was establishing her backstory with the help of Albus. She wasn't even the Scáithanna for more than a minute before naming the man who had led the circle for the last fifty years as her first knight and leader in her stead while she was away at Dún Scaith. Michael took it in good humor and with a laugh as he accepted what was basically his old job back when she offered it.

"Are you even paying attention to me!?" the bowler hat-having man all but yells at her, his face turning an impressive shade of red as he does.

Scáthach blinks once or twice before turning to the man with a confused look. "First of all, while you are in my classroom, you will show me respect, or else you may see yourself out," she tells the man who blinks at her in shock at her demand. "Second of all, yes I was paying attention no matter how little your words meant to me," she tells the man and ignores the laugh that Michael coughs to cover up at her words.

"And thirdly, I will remind you, that in the case of your special investigation squad and, in fact, all parties in this school are not allowed to harass or touch the students in any way. This includes physically grabbing one to drag off to parts unknown for a punishment that does not fit the crime, in which case, I, as the head of the defense of this school, am well within my rights to defend my students," Scáthach tells the man with a scowl, her eyes aglow with power and aggravation at him.

"They are here to make sure the education decrees are being followed, something that no one in this school has been enforcing until now," the man says as he turns to glare at Albus, who in turn looks confused and mystified by the man's words.

"I assure you, Minister-"

"Ah, that's who this is," Scáthach thinks to herself.

"-we have complied with all Ministry decrees to the best of our collective ability," Albus says with a polite smile as Scáthach fights off the scoff that threatens to burst from her lips. The only time the decrees were enforced was when Umbridge was slinking around her school, and even then, most teachers either awarded extra points to make up for the point loss or canceled any detention that stemmed from breaking the rules that stemmed from the decrees.

"That I sincerely doubt," the minister spits out at Albus as the Headmaster sighs. "As far as I know you've been running a madhouse here, incompetent teachers, unruly students, teaching children how to fight a war, and half-giants as teachers!" the minister thunders at Albus before turning back to Scáthach with a stormy expression. "And don't even get me started on you," he says, pointing a finger at Scáthach. "You've been worse than Albus, you've ignored every letter of censure from the Department of Magical Education has sent you on what you've been teaching the students at this school. You refuse to stick to ministry-approved subjects for any of your classes and have even brought in a werewolf as a guest speaker in your class, and that's not even bringing up all the assaults you've done on ministry employees," the minister says as Scáthach looked back at him with a bored look on her face as she continues to pet the cat in her lap.

"Professor Hagrid is possibly one of the kindest souls that call this castle home and I can not recall a single incident of true anger from the man since I started here, not to mention he has all of his qualifications and masteries in his field, scoring in the top five percent of his testing," Scáthach begins before she stops petting the cat on her lap before picking it up and putting it on the desk where it begins to loaf and turns to the minister with an unnerving grin.

"I've ignored the letters of censure because I could not honestly care less about what you or the Department you have bent to your whims have to say to me. I have refused to teach the foolish drivel you have tried to force into the curriculum of my classroom because, past the second year, it is useless, and I have invited Remus Lupin to be a guest speaker because his knowledge and experience with dark creatures is something that surpasses even my knowledge about them," Scáthach says as she rises from her desk, tucking her hands behind her back as she walks around to face the minister who was glaring at her as she spoke.

She stops right in front of the diminutive man and glares down at the foolish mortal, anger and disappointment now coloring her face. "Your unnecessary, and frankly, uncalled for interference into this school breaches the school charter that was established two years after the ministry came into power, that was negotiated by the then Headmaster and the Wizengamot that made sure that Hogwarts continued with its own self-governance and autonomy so it could not be manipulated by political ideological parties. So you may rant and rave until you're blue in the face for all I care, you may conduct your investigation so long as the headmaster sees fit, but it will do nothing to stop me, am I understood?" Scáthach says to the minister who grows angrier at every word.

"I will have your job for this-this blatant disrespect!" the minister says in a raised voice, but before Scáthach could speak again, another speaks for her.

"Oh that, I doubt," Michael speaks up from his spot of leaning against the blackboard behind her desk, causing everyone to look at him. "The Scáithanna's teaching position at this school is by a binding magical contract, if she were to leave the positions for anything short of life-threatening injury or arrest of a crime against the ministry, she would lose her magical core," the old war hound says as he glares at the minister with a scowl on his face. "And before you go off on another rant about what she's done, I feel the need to remind you that one of her duties as the defense professor is protecting the students from any harm that may befall them from forces within and outside of the castle. So she has not broken any laws yet," Michael says as he pushes himself off the blackboard and walks around the desk to stand beside Scáthach.

"And I honestly doubt that you want to explain to the rest of the Irish circles why you saw fit to gravely injure one of our most respected leaders for no more than your own wounded pride because I assure you, you'll have more trouble on your hands than one dark lord returning," The first knight of the Fianna tells the minister with crossed arms as the bowler hat wearing twat glares back at him.

"He is not-" the minister tries to say but is cut off by Michael.

"Oh, shut ya gabhole, no one believes that anymore," Michael says with a sneer as the minister turns red once more.

It wasn't long after Michael had said his piece to the minister that he and his lackey left Scáthach's classroom in an uproar about conspirators and undermining the ministry while threatening swift retribution or some other nonsense Scáthach could care less about. It was after Albus excused himself to run what little damage control he could with his contacts in the Ministry, leaving Scáthach and the first knight of the Fianna alone that Michael turned to her. "My Lady, permission to speak freely?" he asks, sounding a bit unsure for a moment.

"Permission granted, and for future reference, it is what I prefer, Michael," Scáthach says as she walks back around her desk and retakes her seat before waving her hand toward the door to open for the black and white cat pawing at it to be let out.

"Right," the old soldier says with a deep sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose before looking back up to her. "With all due respect, Lady Scáthach, you need to stop antagonizing the minister and the ministry, because if you don't, they will call your bluff one day," he says with a small placating smile, as Scáthach opens her mouth to speak, Michael holds up a hand to stop her. "Take it from an old man who has been dealing with these twats for the past thirty-odd years, if they can't find a reason to do what they want, they'll make one up. I don't know what the lady of the fens is planning, but I doubt you killing the minister and half the auror force is a part of it," he tells her as he recrosses his arms and looks at her.

Scáthach frowns at his words before leaning back in her seat. "I see your wisdom, Michael, please do not think I don't. But I doubt The Morrígan would allow these cretins to run around my school without some con she was trying to pull off," she says to the old soldier before sighing. "So long as they give me no reason to interfere with them I see no reason to act, but this invasion of my school is not something I can or will abide by," she tells her first knight and watches as the man nods.

"I understand that my lady, I do. But maybe you can be a bit more gentle in how you deal with them," Michael offers with a small frown as Scáthach rolls her eyes.

"I will consider it," She tells him with a small smile, though she knew it was going to come to shove sooner or later.

---

Harry Potter, Transfiguration Corridor, April.

Harry sighs as he walks towards Professor McGonagall's office. The last month hasn't been doing a lot of good for his stress. Sadly enough, OWL prep was in full swing as the fifth-year students were buried in homework, essays, and more class work than most could handle. Even Hermione was starting to feel the pressure now, her hair becoming more frizzled and wild as the weeks went on without a break from the consent studying and assignments. She, Harry, and Ron could be found in the library more so than anywhere else in the castle, even teachers' training has turned more into a study ground than anything else.

The only good thing that came out of the constant workload was Harry was far too busy to feel the sting of his wounded pride over the Gryffindor loss to Hufflepuff in the dueling tournament a few weeks back. While Harry had focused on making the members of his team as proficient as possible before it, Susan had worked on her team's cooperation and teamwork, tactics and positioning, and battle formations. Cash, the Hufflepuff who had laughed at his teammate after Delphini insulted him, had used this weird thread magic he called failnaught that he created under the sand of the arena and knocked out the twins with a single stunner using it.

Uí Neíll created some weird mist-based illusion that worked on Ginny and lulled her into a dream-like trance before she was taken out by Hannah with a well-placed stunner. Harry at least got to take out the sharp-looking boy with a well placed-transfigured fist that shot from the ground and launched him past the wards of the arena. But after that, it was simply a numbers game, two on four without the element of surprise, and his blessings were bad odds for Harry and Delphini. So, in the end, Hufflepuff got their win, much to the surprise of the school.

Teacher was upset at his loss and congratulated him on doing his best. "Humility is something that Demigods often forget to have, Greaca. While half-god you may be, it does not mean you will win every battle against everyone. Remember that," Scáthach had told him afterward. The whole reason she wanted Harry to compete in her tournament was to test his leadership skills and his ability to fight without the blessings of Artemis, which she said he did "adequately" which just meant more training in the future after the OWLs were over.

Harry scratches the back of his head and yawns loudly as he reaches Professor McGonagall's office, the late nights with Hermione and Ron in the library begin to wear on him as he raises his hand and knocks. Harry honestly couldn't wait till the OWLs were over so he could sleep better, well better than now, nightmares of his old life still kept him awake at night around this time of year with the school year drawing to a close.

"Come in," Harry hears McGonagall call out before he opens the door and sticks his head into her office.

"Hermione said you want to see…" Harry says, his words dying off as he looks into the richly decorated office of his head of house, a scowl appearing on his lips as he sees that McGonagall isn't alone. "...me," he finishes as he glares at Umbridge who is sitting by the window in the office with a small slimy smile on her face.

"Please come in and take a seat, Mister Potter," Professor McGonagall says while digging through a stack of parchment on her desk.

"What's she doing here?" Harry asks angrily as he takes a few steps into the office and stops, glaring at the woman.

"Tut-tut, Mister Potter. Is that any way to speak to your-" Umbridge begins to say but is swiftly cut off by McGonagall.

"She-" McGonagall says as she looks up to scowl at the toad-like woman, "-Is here in her capacity of High Inquisitor of Hogwarts to see how these proceedings go and is not allowed to talk during them. Though she may ask questions after our talks are done," the stern professor says before turning back to Harry and gestures to the high back chair across from her as Umbridge turns her nose up at McGonagall's words.

"Oh, joy," Harry says banefully as he walks over to the chair in front of McGonagall's desk before ungracefully falling into it, thinking about the One of the last time he was in his head of house's office and learning about the Dursley's deaths at the hands of the monster; which didn't help his bad mood at all.

"Now, Mister Potter, do you know why we are here?" McGonagall asks before pulling out a small stack of parchment Harry couldn't read. He shakes his head, honestly unsure of the reason, he was knee-deep in a potion essay not twenty minutes ago in the common room when Hermione had told him about McGonagall wanting to see him. McGonagall nods her head as if she was expecting that answer from Harry. "This is a meeting about your future career after leaving Hogwarts. From this meeting, we are going to determine what you wish to do with the rest of your life and what NEWT classes you should be taking to do just that," McGonagall informs Harry with a small smile as Harry blinks at her in surprise.

"Have you put any thought into what you would like to do after your schooling, Mister Potter?" McGonagall asks him in a professional tone.

Harry blinks twice more before answering. "Honestly Professor, I'm just surprised that I've made it this far," Harry admits with a shrug. McGonagall looks at him for a moment, her lips twitching upwards as amusement shines in her eyes.

"Indeed, Mister Potter. But how about we go over your current grades and discuss some of your options?" McGonagall asks before shuffling through some of the parchment work in front of her and pulling out what she was looking for.

"Ah, should we maybe get Tea-I mean, Professor Árd-Greimne to show up before all this?" Harry asks. "She is my mentor and all that," he says while scratching his cheek.

Before McGonagall could say anything, Umbridge speaks up. "Oh, I doubt that woman will be showing up. She's probably a bit too busy with her classes to come to something as unimportant as this," Umbridge says with a small girlish giggle, causing Harry to look at her with a disbelieving scowl, unsure of what she meant by it.

"And I thought I made it clear to you, Dolores, that you were not to speak during this meeting," McGonagall says with a scowl as Umbridge turns to glare at her while looking down her nose at the professor. McGonagall turns back to Harry, ignoring the look she is receiving from Umbridge. "I informed Professor Árd-Greimne just yesterday of this meeting, I'm sure she is just running a little behind. It is a busy time of year for the school," she tells Harry with a soft smile as Harry nods his head and looks back at her.

McGonagall flattens out the parchment in front of her before speaking in a formal tone. "I have your current grades for all your classes and a note from each one of your professors for that class, let's start with Charms, shall we?" McGonagall asks, looking up at Harry, who nods in return. "Currently you're sitting at an exceeds expectations with Professor Flitwick, which is good enough to get into his NEWT classes. He notes that while your written work is the only thing truly holding you back in his class, it seems you share your mother's knack for picking up the spells in his class quickly," McGonagall says with a small smile as she glances up at Harry. Umbridge however makes a small dismissive noise from the back of her throat, apparently disagreeing with something.

McGonagall ignores her as she continues. "With that being said, Charms form a good basis for a lot of future careers that expect at least an OWL in the subject. So, if you pass your Charms OWL, which I do not doubt you will. I suggest you sign up for the NEWT classes as well. Even if you never go into mastery for the subject, it won't hurt to have," She informs Harry.

"Oh, yeah. Okay, that sounds good. I like Professor Flitwick," Harry says while nodding his head.

McGonagall looked down to make a quick note as she spoke. "Yes, he does have a charming personality like that," she says without looking up, causing Harry to suffer whiplash as he looks at McGonagall with wide eyes.

"Did you just…" Harry begins to ask before McGonagall looks back up at him with a raised brow.

"Did I what, Mister Potter?" McGonagall asks, looking confused and very much amused.

Harry pauses for a moment before shaking his head. "Nothing, Ma'am," he says and barely spots the ghost of a grin on her lips.

"Back to the topic at hand then," McGonagall says, turning back to Harry's grades. "Your Astronomy grades are sitting at an Outstanding, Professor Sinistra notes you're one of her best students in your year, in the top three in fact. But also noted that unless you are looking into getting your mastery or looking into a career with ritual magic, her NEWT classes will be a waste of time for you," she tells Harry who nods along with her words. As much as he liked Astronomy, he personally didn't see much of a reason to carry on with the class, so he agreed with his head of house to drop the class after this year along with Divination and Herbology. Harry barely had a passing grade in those classes anyway and no real skill in the magical arts; not to mention the fact he hated gardening. So they moved on to Harry's least favorite class; Potions.

"Your grade in Professor Snape's class teeters between an acceptable and exceeds expectations, but sadly, Professor Snape only accepts an Outstanding on the OWLs for his NEWT classes. He notes that…well, we'll just skip over that," McGonagall says before making a note on a piece of parchment with a frown on her face.

"What did he say?" Harry asks, trying to make sense of the nonsensical scribbles he sees on the parchment, only for McGonagall to let out a sigh before looking up at Harry with an unamused look on her face.

"He simply wrote; Please, Don't," she says flatly as Harry lets out a snort.

"Yeah, that sounds like Snape," Harry mutters to himself and McGonagall lets out a hum of agreement.

"That would be Professor, to you, boy," Umbridge says with a nasty frown on her face. "One would think that you would learn proper respect for your betters," she snaps at Harry as he turns to look at her.

"No," Harry simply says before turning back to McGonagall who was looking at him with humor and a bit of pride before turning on Umbridge who looks ready to say something else.

"Dolores! This is your last warning, be quiet or I will have to ask you to leave," McGonagall tells her with a frown and a glare, Umbridge falls back into her seat as she returns McGonagall glare.

McGonagall turns back to Harry without another word to Umbridge. "Let's move on to your last three, and frankly, your best classes. Transfiguration, Defensive Arts, and Care of Magical Creatures, which-" McGonagall begins to say but is swiftly cut off by three sharp knocks on her office door before it swings open before McGonagall can say a word.

"My sincerest apologies, Minerva," Scáthach says as she walks gracefully into the room, shutting the door behind her. Her black sleeveless dress swished to and fro as she walked into the room, without a word McGonagall conjured a sitting chair for Scáthach to take a seat in. "Greaca, Toad," she greets both Harry and Umbridge before taking a seat, causing Harry to choke down a laugh as Umbridge sputters and turns red in anger at Scáthach's blatant insult.

"I would have been here sooner, but a few members from the inquisitorial squad had a few questions for me," Scáthach informs them as she crosses her legs and leans forward a bit in the high-back chair with an arm resting on one of the scrolled arms.

"And where are the men and women set to speak to you?" Umbridge asks in a confrontational tone of voice, the anger on her face is vivid and bloody.

"Oh, I'm sure they're around here somewhere, possibly preoccupied with a cat of all things," Scáthach says as she turns to Umbridge with a grin that promises nothing good for anyone on the receiving end.

"What does-"

"THANK YOU-" McGonagall says loudly, snapping at Umbridge with a glare before turning back to Scáthach and speaking more softly. "-For coming, Scáthach. We were just getting to your class, and your insights would be most welcome. Do you need a quick rundown of what we have already discussed?" McGonagall asks politely and watches as Scáthach waves her hand to dismiss her question.

"Not necessary, Minerva. Please, continue off from where I rudely interrupted you," Scáthach says in an apologetic tone and with a soft smile.

"As you wish," McGonagall says with a nod of her head. "As I was saying earlier, Mister Potter, the last three classes are your best. In each class, you sit in one of the top three spots, third in mine, second in Lady Scáthach's, and first in Professor Hagrid's class. Professor Hagrid notes that you are the best in his class by a quidditch field, your ability to connect with the magical creatures, being able to figure out what they need and how to help them is second to none, and quite frankly he wants you in his NEWT classes," McGonagall says with a smile on her face, one shared with Harry.

Harry loved Care of Magical Creatures because he loved animals, be they wild or tame, house cats, owls, or Thestrals. Harry smiles at Hagrid's notes before nodding his head. "Yeah, ah, I'd like that. Care is great," Harry says with a smile and happily admits it. McGonagall smiles back at him before making a quick note on the parchment with his grades before informing Harry he would need an exceeds expectations on his Care of Magical Creatures OWL to get into the NEWT classes.

"A good pick, Greaca," Scáthach tells him with a proud smile on her face.

"Moving on to my class, Mister Potter," McGonagall says as she leans back in her seat with the same proud smile that Scáthach had on her face. "Other than Miss Granger and Miss Greengrass, you are my best student. Even then you outstrip both of them in the practical application of Transfiguration, and I do not say this lightly, Harry, but your father would be very proud of you if he was still with us," she says, her words and smile never wavering as she spoke her truth. Harry blushes a bit as he looks down at his hands, a small smile forming on his lips as he feels Scáthach placing her hand on his shoulder and giving him a supportive squeeze.

"With your growing mastery of Battle Magic and your unique understanding of the magical arts of my subject, bordering on prodigious, I would be remiss and a fool if I did not encourage you to take my NEWT classes, Harry," McGonagall admits to Harry, causing the boy to look up at his head of house to see the pride gleaming in her eyes. All Harry does is smile and nod at her, as McGonagall nods back to him before telling him he'll need at least an exceeds expectations on his Transfiguration OWL to be in her class. "But I have not a single doubt in my mind that you'll be able to make it," she tells him with a small, encouraging smile before turning to Scáthach.

Scáthach scoffs and rolls her eyes before turning to Harry. "Must I say anything, Greaca?" she asks Harry with a smirk of good humor on her face as Harry chuckles and shakes his head.

"No, not really Teacher. I know you expect me in your NEWT classes, and I'll make sure I get into them," Harry tells her with a wide smile as his mentor returns with a nod of her head.

McGonagall looks between the two with pride shining in her eyes and a soft smile on her lips as she nods her head. "Now, I know Lady Scáthach has been teaching you so you can receive a Mastery in Offensive and Defensive Magical arts with an emphasis on Battle Magic, but, and no offense to you Lady Scáthach, very few careers will want someone with said mastery. One of the very few would be the auror department, but as it stands I do not think you'll be making it into the necessary NEWT classes for it," she tells Harry.

Harry frowns at that, from what Dora had told him, being an auror sounded right up his alley. Helping people, hunting down dark wizards and witches, investigating things, hunting down dark creatures, hunting things. But he was honestly unsure of it, Harry knew himself well enough to know that he wouldn't take orders very well or remember what he could or could not do thanks to some stupid law or something like that. But as Harry pondered being an auror, Scáthach reached over McGonagall's desk, pausing only for a moment as she reached for Harry's grades before McGonagall handed them to her.

"Are we sure that is off the table?" Scáthach asks as she leans back in her seat to look over the piece of parchment, ignoring the scoff coming from Umbridge.

"As of right now, nothing is truly off the table. But if we go by Mister Potters' grades, then I'm afraid he won't have the Outstanding needed to get into Severus' NEWT classes," McGonagall says as she steeples her fingers.

"Could you talk to him?" Harry asks as he turns to look at his mentor.

"Severus is a demanding taskmaster in his chosen field, with high standards and a low bar for any sort of shenanigans in his classroom. As a Potion Master and one of the youngest in history, I will not begrudge the man for having those standards due to the complexity and nuance of understanding one needs in the more complex brews," Scáthach says with a frown as her eyes trail down the parchment in front of her, stopping to snort out a laugh as she got to what had to be what Snape wrote for his notes. "What about Horace?" she asks McGonagall as she puts the parchment back on the desk. Harry frowns at the name, not recognizing it but having a feeling he heard the name somewhere.

"He teaches the younger years, I'm not sure he would have time to take Mister Potter until the end of the year," McGonagall says as her lips thin a bit as she thought.

"I was more thinking about the next school year, I'm sure he would jump at the chance to teach Lilly's son on the side, Harry then could sit his NEWT for the subject in two years," Scáthach says as she leans forward a bit in her chair, Harry looking between the two teachers as they spoke, wondering how this Horace knew his mum.

McGonagall hums for a moment before shaking her head. "While I'm not disagreeing with you, Scáthach, I think we should at least wait till after we get the OWL scores before approaching him with anything," she says, causing Scáthach to frown but nod slowly at McGonagall's words.

"I don't even know why you two are even entertaining this-this fantasy," Umbridge finally snaps at the other two women in the room. "The auror department and least of all the Ministry would never allow a hooligan and a murderer like Mister Potter to work at the Ministry. The boy should have been locked up long ago for everything he has done," she says, sending a glare at Scáthach who had turned to look at her with a raised brow.

"Oh, Dolores, you were doing so well with not opening your mouth," Scáthach says with a sigh before leaning back in her chair to rest her chin on the palm of her hand. "Do tell, did you happen to see a fly buzzing about and try to snap at it for a mid-afternoon snack?" she asks with a patronizing smile, causing Umbridge's face to turn red with anger.

Umbridge stands up, her face set in an angry scowl. "I will not be spoken to like this, I am the undersecretary of the minister of magic and the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, I do not care what the Irish circles say or threaten us with, I will have your job before this school year is over!" she promises, but Scáthach looks decidedly unimpressed by Umbridge's declaration as she inspects her nails.

"How is your mother and your brother doing nowadays?" Scáthach asks, looking back at Umbridge with a false smile on her lips. Umbridge goes still as her eyes widen for a moment as she pales at Scáthach's words.

"My mother is dead," Umbridge says in a hoarse voice, looking at Scáthach like she had seen a ghost, "And I don't have a brother," she says after a moment to compose herself.

Scáthach hums for a moment before smiling at Umbridge. "If you say so," she says as her smile turns bloodthirsty for a moment. Umbridge opens her mouth, her eyes bulging as anger floods her face once more looking to be moments from a mad rampage that Harry couldn't help to smirk at.

Umbridge's eyes turn to look at Harry smirking at her while sitting next to Scáthach. "And what are you smiling at, Mister Potter?" she spits at him with a glare.

Harry just shrugs. "A roasted toad?" he asks, causing Scáthach to let out a barking laugh that echoes around the room.

"That is it!" Umbridge says, fury in her eyes as she looks at Harry, but before she can go any further with what was some mad rant that would get her nowhere in the Witch-Queen's presence, a sharp knock echoes throughout the office, confusing everyone but one within as they all turn to look at the door.

McGonagall looks over at Scáthach as she winks at the matron of the House of Lions before McGonagall turns to the door to her office. "Come in," she called out to whoever was on the other side. As the door opens, it reveals a young woman with long curly blond hair and fair skin, bright blue eyes shining over high cheekbones, and a slightly pointed chin. For one heart-stopping second, Harry thought it was Aphrodite who had opened the door, but all doubt was removed when the woman opened her mouth and spoke.

"So sorry, but is this das Fräulein McGonagall's office?" She asks, her voice thick with a German accent as she pokes her head timidly into the office.

"I am Minerva McGonagall, yes," McGonagall says slowly, sounding confused as to why the young lady was looking for her.

"Wunderbar!" the girl says with a large smile as she slides into the office. She wore form-fitting robes that hugged tightly around her midsection, arms, and were left flowing around her legs like a skirt. They were deep blue trimmed with a mixture of white and silver thread, the chest, shoulders, and back were all protected by a thick scaly leather that had been dyed the same deep blue as the rest of the robes, as she turned to close the door Harry could make out a hood attached to the back with some sort of insignia or runic circle that it mostly covered up. She wore boots that came up to about mid-calf and a pair of thigh-high socks of striped blue and white, as she turned around Harry could see she had an arm full of paperwork.

"Now, I once again apologize for barging in unannounced, but I was told to come here and meet with you at once. Ah, it is about a student of yours, a-" she says as she looks down at her paperwork for a moment. "-Der Herm Harry Potter?" she asks looking up to McGonagall, but the deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts had already turned, along with everyone else in the room, to look at a confused Harry, who awkwardly and slowly raises his hand.

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry identifies himself, though it came out more as a question.

"Oh? Excellent!" the pretty blond woman says with a large smile. "I was afraid for a moment that I may have been late, but this is the ah, career meeting, yes?" she asks, turning to McGonagall.

"It is," McGonagall says slowly, looking back at the woman with a frown. "And, if you do not mind me asking, miss, but who are you?" she asks, sounding lost for a moment.

"Oh, forgive me. I've gotten ahead of myself," she says with a shy grin. "I am Agentin Brynhilda Ruine-Tochter, I am from the International Confederation of Wizards," she says as she steps forward to shake McGonagall's hand with a large smile.

McGonagall stands and shakes Brynhilda's hand with a small smile. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Ruine-Tochter. I'm Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, this is Professor Scáthach Árd-Greimne, Harry Potter, and Madam Dolores Umbridge. Welcome to Hogwarts, did Albus send you by chance?" McGonagall asks with a polite tone and raised brow. Harry frowns a bit as he watches the blonde woman shake her head, the Headmaster had left to go to Point Nemo just a few days ago on ICW business and wouldn't be back until the end of the school year because someone at the ministry, in their infinite wisdom, never sent a replacement ambassador for the English MoM so there was a backlog of work to be done at the ICW.

"But if the headmaster hadn't sent her, who did?" Harry thinks to himself as he watches Brynhilda turn to Scáthach and bow respectfully to her at the waist, Harry's stomach sinks as he can swear he hears the snap of a golden fan opening.

"An honor to meet you, Lady Scáthach," Brynhilda says as she raises from her bow. "While I did have a run-in with the Supreme Mugwump, he did not send me, but before we get into that," she informs everyone before turning to Umbridge with a small apologetic smile. "I'm going to have to politely ask you to leave, die frau Umbridge, as to what I've been sent here to talk to Der Herm Potter is a matter of international security, I am sorry about this," she says with a polite and apologetic smile.

Umbridge looked livid at the woman's request as she stuck her nose into the air. "I am the undersecretary of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Anything you can tell to these three, you can say to me," she says, sounding adamant in her words, but Brynhilda shrugs timidly before brushing a lock of golden hair behind her head and gives Umbridge another apologetic look.

"I really can't, you must understand die frau Umbridge, this is an order handed down by my superior," Brynhilda says, tucking into herself with the same timid smile on her face. "You really must leave,"

"And if I refuse?" Umbridge asks, not moving an inch.

"Then I will be forced to remove you, and neither of us wants that, die frau," Brynhilda says, her polite smile straining a bit as she speaks to Umbridge.

But no sooner did the words leave Brynhilda's mouth, did Scáthach turn in her seat to look at Umbridge with the biggest grin on her face. "Oh, do stay Dolores, I am in desperate need of quality entertainment," she says with a bloodthirsty grin as Brynhilda turns to look at Scáthach oddly, though McGonagall tries to hide her grin behind her hand.

Umbridge takes one more look around the room, her eyes narrowed in a glare at everyone before she begins to leave. "Cornelius will be hearing about this," she hisses at them all as she passes them, Brynhilda steps out of her way with a soft apology before Umbridge opens the door and slams it shut behind her.

"That is a very unpleasant woman," Brynhilda mutters to herself before raising her hand with her pointer finger extended and carving a rune in the air, much like Scáthach did in her and Harry's spears, before flicking it at the door, causing it and the walls to flash the telltale green of a silencing charm. "Now that is out of the way," she says before turning around to look at the remaining people in the office. "Allow me to properly introduce myself, I am Agentin Brynhilda Ruine-Tochter, Magician of Freya, and member of the ICE under the command of Dame Tomoe Makoshi. I am here on her behalf to offer Der Herm Potter a place within the ICE after he is done with his schooling," she says with a wide and joy-filled smile to the dumbstruck mortals in the room while the goddess turns to smile at her student.

---

Harry Potter, Astronomy Tower, Hogwarts, July.

The weeks flew by after the career meeting back in April for Harry, with more homework, and more stress. The meeting floated around in the back of his mind all that time. Brynhilda had explained that the ICE normally never hired anyone right after graduation but apparently, Makoshi wanted him badly for whatever reason. Brynhilda sat with Harry, Scáthach, and McGonagall and discussed everything Harry would need to do to join the ICE. First, like any auror department across the world, Hardy would need his NEWTs in Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense, with all being either exceeds expectations or outstanding as his final grade. With one or two more subjects at the same final grade to round out what he could bring to the department, Brynhilda informed Harry they hadn't had a magical creature expert in many years and would gladly help him get his mastery in it.

They moved on to signing bonuses and perks of the job, but Harry had tuned it out by then. He honestly didn't care, it wasn't like he needed gold or glory, he didn't care about prestige or anything like that. Scáthach must have seen the disinterest in his eyes and asked Brynhilda for a brochure or something to look over later that the peppy young woman happily handed over. As the meeting came to an end and Brynhilda stood to leave, Harry couldn't help but ask his own questions.

"You said you're a Magician, right?" Harry blurted out as the woman turned to the door. She stopped and turned to look at him with a raised brow.

"Ja," Brynhilda said with a nod of her head. McGonagall looked between the two with a frown and questions of her own in her eyes as she watched them. "My mother is Freya, the göttin of beauty, love, war, and sorcery, one of the Vanir. My father is an auror with the German ministry. Why do you ask, Herr Potter?" she said politely to Harry.

"I know Makoshi is a Magician, I was just wondering if she's just interested in me because of that," Harry stated and watched as Brynhilda blinked twice before letting out a small cute giggle.

"So leid," she apologized quickly in her mother tongue as she covered her mouth and ducked her head. "It is just something I haven't realized until you pointed it out. Tell me, Herr Potter, do you know how many Magicians there are?" Brynhilda asked, her head tilting a bit to the side as she spoke.

"Um, eighteen, right?" Harry asked, and Brynhilda nodded.

"Ja, and out of those eighteen, eight of them work for the ICE department. But whether Dame Mokoshi has a reason for it or not, I don't know," She admitted with a shrug and a soft smile. "But what I do know is that you impressed her in your fight against Herr Kedeer, and so, against regulations, she sent me to offer you a position with us. Whether you take it or not is up to you," Brynhilda told him before wishing Harry and his two professors a good day while leaving just as suddenly as she came.

It wasn't long after the meeting that the Minister showed up, practically frothing at the mouth and demanding what a member of the ICE wanted with him, McGonagall, and Scáthach. McGonagall had told him it was confidential seeing that it was about an underage student, Scáthach had just laughed in his face before telling him to leave, and Harry, well, he couldn't help himself at times.

"Nothing that concerns a boot-licking twat like you. Probably should have believed me when I told you Voldemort was back last year, huh?" Harry told the seething Minister right to his face, feeling disgusted as the man flinched at the name of the monster and made him scoff. "And you're the guy who's leading us? No wonder Voldemort almost won last time. Tell me, is Talia Peverell about to kick your ass to the curb yet?" Harry asked and grinned like a maniac at how white Fudge turned at the mention of The Morrígan's human form.

The Minister left steaming mad as Harry's life once more fell into a routine of homework, dueling Ginny when he had the time, and playing Quidditch. It was during the last week of June that the final game of the season was played against Slytherin. A smile was brought to Harry's face as he watched his team and housemates lift Ron into the air while singing Weasley is our King as he hoisted the Quidditch cup high over his head. That after party he actually stayed for as the whole house celebrated the last game for three of their members in Angelina, Fred, and George with butter beers, fire whiskey, and all the treats and snacks they could sneak into the common room. It was when the party was dying down, and Delphini was lying on his lap from drinking too much, that Angelina approached him with the worst news ever.

Angelina had nominated Harry for the captain's position next year, much to the young seeker's horror.

Angelina had laughed at the look on his face before giving Harry an awkward hug thanks to Delphini on his lap. "You'll do great Harry, I know you will because I believe in you," Angelina whispered into his ear, and it would have been a sweet moment between chaser and seeker if it wasn't for the fact that Delphini snorted out "Nice boobs," like a drunk while looking up Angelina's shirt.

But after all the celebrations were done and the last few weeks of the month were over with; they began. It started on the first Sunday evening of June as the doors of the Great Hall swung open and McGonagall stood to welcome the examiners from the Department of Magical Education for the OWLs and the NEWTs. The whole testing process would take around two weeks, with the last week in June free of all classes to give the fifth and seventh-year students time to decompress and destress. Delphini had told him that they were spending the whole week in the shack if he made it out the other end of the testing.

Harry didn't need much more motivation than that.

That evening Harry, Ron, and Hermione did a round of OWL prep questions before going to sleep to prepare for, as Hermione had often put it, "The most important testing of their lives," Don't get Harry wrong, he loved Hermione, but sometimes she was a bit overdramatic.

Monday came and went as the whole of the fifth year of Hogwarts was ushered to empty classrooms right after breakfast, handed anti-cheating jinxed quills, as well as ink, and set to work on the written exam portion of Charms. The worst part that made Harry panic for the first two minutes of the exam, he wasn't allowed to take out his wand which meant he couldn't translate the English of the test into Ancient Greek. He was sweating bullets until the shadows in the classroom flickered across his test and twisted the English into something he could read. With a sigh of relief, Harry started the written portion and answered as many questions as he could, skipping ones he couldn't answer off the top of his head and going back to them after he completed the test to try and answer them.

By the end of the test, Harry's brain felt fried, and his body ached to move. Thankfully, right after the written exam was an hour for lunch before the practical portion, which was much more Harry's speed. The examiners would call everyone in his year back into the classroom one at a time from the Great Hall in alphabetical order by their last name to run a gauntlet of spells, from first to fifth, also while mixing them up to try and throw them off. Harry got most of his spells right, the few he stumbled on were ones from the first year that he barely remembered existed let alone knew how to cast. By the end, the examiner smiled and nodded, telling him he did "Pretty good" before sending him out of the classroom and calling the next person.

And for the two weeks, that's what Harry's exams consisted of. Waking up, eating breakfast, taking the written portion of his exams, eating lunch, doing the practical portion, then a mixture of studying for the next and dinner before falling asleep to do it all over again. The only different thing during the practical exams was when Harry was asked to perform the Patronus charm for Defense and a few Battle Magic spells for Transfiguration that earned him some extra points.

The only day that changed was Friday when it was split between the electives that he picked at the end of his second year. Neither were Care or Divination, so both he and Ron got the day to study for the next week of exams as Hermione did both her Runes and Arithmancy exams with Delphini helping her prep for the night before. The weekend came and it was nothing but studying up for the Potion exams on the coming Monday, only taking breaks for lunch and dinner.

Monday and Tuesday came and went with the Potions exam and the Care of Magical Creatures exam. Harry was pretty sure he aced the latter one when not only could he pick the Nogtail out and catch it with his bare hands, but he quite literally had a Snallygaster eating out of his hands while he petted it during the practical exam. This shocked the examiner at the time because all Harry had to do with the Snallygaster was force it back into its pen, not treat it like a house pet when he first met it.

But everything changed on Wednesday.

It started like any day in the past week: wake up, eat breakfast, and do the written exam for Astronomy. But after lunch, they had done the written and practical exam for Divination in the afternoon and evening with a word of warning that the practical exam for Astronomy would be held at midnight that night.

Most of the fifth-year caught a nap after dinner before heading up to the Astronomy Tower. The practical exam wasn't very hard, it was just a fill-in-the-blank star chart that Harry honestly could have done in his sleep, but everything changed halfway through the exam. It was a clear night, not a cloud in the sky nor a squall of wind could be heard, so as Harry was trying to find Libra with his telescope, he heard it.

Yelling.

Off in the distance, off by Hagrid's cabin.

It was loud enough that a few other students heard it as well, Harry swung the telescope around and quickly found Hagrid's cabin. He was confused by the yelling at first, but then the windows of the cabin flashed red with spell light, which was quickly followed by a roar that could only belong to the half-giant. The door to his cabin bursts open and goes flying from its hinges, where it lands quite a ways away. Harry heard the gasps of the other students around him as he looked on in horror as Hagrid stumbled out of his house backward, his arms covering his face as stunner after stunner hit him again and again.

"Now students, students, please turn your attention back to the exam!" the examiner says as she sees most of the students turn their attention to what is happening below.

But the students ignored her and watched on with morbid horror.

"Stop! I said stop!" Hagrid bellows as the red cloaks, five of them in total with Umbridge stepping out after them, continue to fire stunners at Hagrid. "I've done nothin, stop!" he roars as Umbridge screams as well.

"Stun him! Stun him! We need the half-breed alive for questioning! Stun him!" Umbridge orders the red cloaks while firing off stunners herself. But even then, even knowing he could, Hagrid still doesn't fight back.

"Students! Your exams!" the examiner yells, but no one listens.

Fang barrels out of Hagrid's home, barking at the red cloaks as they continue to attack Hagrid until Fang finds the courage every hound is born with, coming to the defense of his master and sinking his fangs into the calf of one of the red cloaks. The figure cries out in pain before turning to the hound at his heel. With a flick of the red cloak's wand, he flings Fang across the field before the massive bloodhound strikes the side of a tree, yelping in pain as he falls to the ground; unmoving.

"Fang-arrg!" Hagrid yells as his loyal hound hits the tree, but as he brings his arm down to scream for his beloved hound, a spell strikes the side of his face causing him to stumble once more and bring him to his knees.

But still, Hagrid doesn't fight back.

"Harry! Don't-"

"Harry, no! What are you-"

"Harry! Mate! Stop!"

The resounding BOOM! of the doors to the front of the castle cuts off most of the students' gasps as Hagrid falls to his knees and the shouts of the examiner. "STOP! STOP THIS MADNESS THIS INSTANT!" the voice of the deputy Headmistress thunders as she storms out of the castle, pulling her nightdress she wore up to all but run to Hagrid's aid. "BY THE WITCH-FATHER'S MACE, YOU WILL STOP THI-" was as far as McGonagall got, for no less than four stunners went screaming across the grounds of Hogwarts, striking her in her chest. The Matron of the House of Lions was lifted off her feet and flung backward till she hit the ground before rolling to a stop; unmoving.

"MCGONAGALL!" Harry screams from the Astronomy Tower.

"RAHHHHHHH!" And it was also the straw that broke the gentle giant's back, for Hagrid stood back up with a roar of fury before swinging at the nearest red cloak. The half-giant backhands the red cloak that had banished Fang away, and much like the loyal hound, the man flies through the air before smashing against the wooden walls of the hut with a crunch that could be heard from the Astronomy Tower.

"Take him down! Take him down now! Whatever it takes!" Umbridge screams in a panic as the spells hitting Hagrid become darker, drawing blood from the half-giant. Harry reaches into the back of his mind, uncaring for the consequences, unconcerned about the loss of his sanity, and uncontested in what he thought he needed to do as he grabs the tap and twists it as fast and as hard as he could; and floods himself with the Hunt while Malfoy laughs at the scene below. Harry could feel the arms of Neville, Ron, and Hermione struggling to stop him from vaulting from the top of the tower to the carnage below.

Harry was going to kill every single one of the people attacking his oldest friend, it was as simple as that. But as soon as the Hunt roars inside him, hungry for the hunt to come, its roar turns into a whimper.

For something inside of the castle shifts.

The Hunt froze in his veins and was forced to heel, but it wasn't just the Hunt or Harry who felt that icy chill of terror.

No, every single waking soul felt it.

All around Harry, every student stops moving as a cold sweat breaks out across them all. For they feel something within the depths of the castle….

Smile.

"Cú," the unmistakable voice of Scáthach echoes throughout the castle and the lawns that surround it, spoken softly, like a mistress calling her hound to her. The shadows that surrounded the fallen form of McGonagall begin to bubble and boil, twisting and roiling like an ocean at storm. Then, from the depths of that darkness, the Hound of Ulster emerges, but not in the form of the great Irish wolfhound that could be seen lazing around the castle, helping the first-years to their classes, and begging them for table scraps during dinner. No, what emerges looks much like when Harry first met him outside of the Gate of Skye when he had dragged Harry past the gate and into the Lands of Shadow. It was massive, standing as tall as Hagrid on all four feet, its body a hulking mass of contorting muscle and bone, a nocked arrow ready to take flight at an instant. The stygian black of its muzzle parting to reveal a slavering maw filled with razor-sharp canines gleaming in the night, a promise of death.

It crouches over McGonagall's unmoving form protectively before throwing back its head and unleashing a howl that shakes both castle and soul. Umbridge and the red cloaks that surround Hagrid turn and see the Hound, paralyzed in fear at the sight while Hagrid looks on in awe. Scáthach steps from the shadows of the entrance door to the school, hands folded behind her back as she surveys Umbridge and the red cloaks.

The next words spoken were calm and detached, as a judge handing down sentence to the condemned.

"Sic'em," Scáthach's voice echoes once more, but Harry could hear the sadistic glee in his teacher's voice as if she had been waiting a long time to do just this. Cú barked once in acceptance of his orders, a thunderclap echoing across the school grounds. Its legs tensed and the massive black beast launched forward at an almost impossible speed for its size. Harry was in awe at Cú's swiftness and was sure he was the only one who could track the great hound as it shot through the darkness, becoming almost invisible to the naked eye. The red cloaks didn't have time to react, let alone for any of them to raise their wands before Cú was on them, slamming into the first with such force and speed that Harry didn't even see where the man went; one moment he was there, the next he was gone.

The red cloaks snapped out of their shock, and two brave ones raised their wands to attack Cú, the other two were wiser and turned tail to flee. The first who raised his wand got off a cleaving curse on the massive hound, striking it across its neck in the vain hope of felling the beast in one blow, but the curse was to no avail as it broke against Cú's neck, not even ruffling his fur as the caster gaped in shock as the hound turned to him. Cú brought up its massive paw before slamming it down on the red cloak, Harry could hear the gasps of fear from his fellow fifth-years who had never seen such brutality.

The last red cloak turned and tried to run, but it was far too late as the maw of the great hound bit down on him. Cú picked the man up and shook him like a rag doll, the man's screams heard even at the top of the Astronomy Tower before, with unnerving accuracy, Cú flung the screaming man across the grounds to strike the other two escaping red cloaks. They collide with a wet crunch of bones and screams as Cú finally turns to Umbridge. Umbridge shakes and trips over her feet as she stumbles back from the great hound, falling on her back as Cú walks over to her. She tries to raise her wand, but with one swift move, Cú pins her to the ground with his paw, hot fetid breath washing over her face as it growls the depths of its wroth.

As Cú dismantled the red cloaks, Scáthach took her time walking across the grounds of Hogwarts at a slow, meandering pace. Cú held Umbridge down with his front paw as his mistress made her way over. Upon reaching them, Scáthach ran her hands up the great hound's shaggy fur, scratching at his neck and ears. Harry watches as his teacher speaks to Umbridge, leaning down over her, but her words can't be heard because of how softly she speaks. She soon straightens herself and gestures to the red cloaks before she and Cú both turn and walk away back to the castle.

---

Scáthach, Thursday morning, The Great Hall.

The Witch-Queen sat in the seat normally reserved for the headmaster, observing the ongoings of her school. Word had spread like wildfire in the morning about what had happened late last night, the attack on Hagrid, McGonagall's attempt to help that landed her in the Janus Thickey ward at Saint Mungo's, and what had happened to the red cloaks.

Most students in the Great Hall cast nervous glances her way, whispering among themselves of Cú being a Grimm she had somehow trained, or how she was a dark witch now taking over Hogwarts now that both Minerva and Albus were out of the picture. Only the Greaca and his group of friends were telling everyone else that the rumors were nothing but rumors. Though Scáthach could not help but chuckle as the younger years refused to believe that Cú was anything less than a helpful and playful hound they fed table scraps when they thought she wasn't looking.

"Is something amusing, my lady?" the soft sound of Severus' voice whispers to her left. Scáthach turns to look at the pale, grim, and gaunt face. His lips were pulled down into a tight frown and the bags under his eyes seemed deeper and more defined than the day before. Severus had spent a sleepless night worrying over not only a colleague, but a dear friend, while trying to contact Albus at Point Nemo; sadly, the Patronus charm could not travel the distance needed to deliver any message. With Point Nemo being closed off to all floos, Severus had no choice but to send an owl out late at night hoping the letter was sorted with the outgoing mail to Point Nemo in the morning.

"Nothing all too important, just some of what the children are saying about me. Apparently I am a dark witch taking over Hogwarts," Scáthach says with a coy grin as she turns to look at Severus. His frown grows a bit deeper as his dark eyes sweep across the Great Hall looking at his own house's table first.

"Well, you would know best of how children can let their imagination get the best of them," he says with a sour look, his eyes flickering toward the end of the staff table to look at Hagrid. The worst of his wounds were healed under the tender care of Poppy the night before. Hagrid had wanted to flee with Fang into the dark of the night so as not to give the Ministry another reason to come to the school, but Scáthach had talked him out of the notion. Hogwarts was as much Hagrid's home as it was her and she would sooner leave herself than allow Hagrid to be chased from it.

Severus' eyes land on the seat normally taken by Minerva as the ghost of concern flashes through his eyes, but after a quick blink, it is all but gone from his dark eyes.

"She'll be fine Severus," Scáthach mutters to him under her breath, to try and alleviate his concern for his old teacher-turned-good friend. "Even if she was thirty years younger, she would still be hurt after taking five overpowered stunners to the chest," she says before reaching over and patting his arm. The dark man doesn't say anything but nods his head sharply in thanks as he continues to eat his breakfast.

Scáthach reaches out for her morning tea, intending to savor it. While the taste of disappointment was thick in her mouth, she hoped the taste of tea would wash it out. After dealing with the attack on Hagrid, Scáthach turned her attention to Minerva, Hagrid, and Fang and got the three of them to the hospital wing as soon as she could. Fang had a broken shoulder and was knocked out; he was otherwise fine, much to Hagrid's relief. Hagrid had a few minor scratches and a few missing teeth, but it wasn't anything that Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix. Minerva, however, had to be sent to Saint Mungo's for an unknown amount of time. By the time they had gotten her to the hospital via the floo, the Greaca had shown up to check in on Hagrid and Minerva.

She informed Harry of both of their conditions and he was rightfully angry at what Dolores had done, asking her why she hadn't just killed her when she had the chance. Scáthach didn't answer his question, merely telling her wild student that she was handling it now before sending him off to bed. To top off the bad news of the night, Harry had gotten an automatic failing grade for the Astronomy OWL, thanks to him leaving in the middle of the exam, but she could not be angry with the Greaca for rushing off.

While Harry had stalked off to bed, Scáthach turned her attention to the rest of the rats scurrying about her school. An insult she had put up with long enough thanks to the geas between her and Albus when she had given her word about staying out of how he ran the school.

But now neither Albus nor Minerva was in the castle, and she was free to act how she pleased. The first thing she did was set her hound on the rats and eject them from her home, they still yet lived along with Dolores and that is where the bitter taste of disappointment stemmed from. But sometimes you had to free the rat to let it lead you back to its nest.

As Scáthach takes a sip of her morning tea, the morning flock of owls and other birds come soaring through the windows overhead, scattering letters, packages, and newspapers among the students. Scáthach pauses for a moment, her eyes drifting upwards to the rafters above where a small crow was sitting among them looking down into the hall. Scáthach's face falls into an angry frown when she sees it, "What is that annoying little pest, Macha doing here? I swear if she is here to mess with the Greaca, I'll feed her to Cú," she thinks to herself as she places her cuppa down.

She rose from her seat, intent on tossing the little brat out of her school when she felt it: sixteen sets of feet walking up from the front gate and across the grounds of her school. Scáthach narrows her eyes as she turns her head in the direction they are approaching from.

"Is something wrong?" Fúamnach asks from her seat across from Severus, the ancient hedge witch looks at her with a raised brow, no doubt catching the flashing emotions across her face.

Scáthach's frown grows into an unnerving smile as she relaxes into her seat and looks across the Great Hall to the open door that leads to it. "Oh, no, it just seems we'll be having some morning entertainment," she says as she turns to Fúamnach, who blinks at her confused for a moment before shrugging. "Do protect the little ones from the stray spell fire, won't you?" Scáthach asks as she places her chin on the palm of her hand to prop it up while looking forward toward the door to the great hall once more.

She feels Fúamnach and Severus turn to her, both of them looking as lost and confused as a first year on their first day. Fúamnach shrugs before popping a piece of fruit into her mouth as her eyes sweep the hall in interest, looking for what only Scáthach knew was coming. Severus' wand finds its way to his hand as cold, calm eyes scan the hall looking for something he couldn't see, and wouldn't see for the next five minutes until the group walks into the great hall.

They walked in lock-step with one another, seven in front protecting the two people in the middle with another seven behind them, guarding the group's flank. Fourteen of the group all wore the same uniform that separated them from the rest of the world, unlike the cheap dyed colors of the cloak-wearing hit-wizards that Umbridge had brought in to try and police her school. The men and women who walked in wore the unmistakable red robes of the auror department, the black dragonhide that served as chest armor with fine red silk hemmed with gold that designated their rank within the auror office.

Most of the whispers and talking stopped as they entered the great hall with the bowler hat-wearing man and Dolores, both smirking like they had won something. Scáthach ignores them as she turns her attention to the third man walking in with them, he was dressed similarly to the aurors that surround them, but with medals pinned to the front of the dragonhide armor. He was a lion of a man with mane-like hair and beard, his steps were hampered by an old injury, and used a cane to help him walk. Scáthach knew the man from the information stored within her school, Sir Rufus Scrimgeour, the Lieutenant-Commander of the auror department and first Knight of Britain.

The only other aurors among them that Scáthach knew without accessing the information that was stored in her school were Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt from Albus' order meetings she rarely attended. Young Tonks' eyes kept flicking back and forth nervously as the aurors fanned out around the great hall looking to block all entrances and exits to the room. As they spread out in front of the staff table, Rufus stepped forward, his walk was loose and springy as if he was expecting a fight at any moment. He was a warrior, and Scáthach could easily see that. In fact, all of the men and women in red robes walked and stood at attention like soldiers and knights, their wands already out and in hand.

When Tom Riddle had laid his hex upon the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, he had done it out of pettiness and the want to hamper students' learning how to defend themselves in his war to come. It had also crippled the auror department, for where once there were dozens of recruits each year, the numbers dwindled less than a handful these past five. But it did have an unforeseen consequence: the current roster of Aurors went from quantity to quality. Each auror had taken on every challenge and setback and pushed themselves to be the best they could be for a job and life they committed themselves to.

If the Circle of the Fianna were successors to the Red Branch Knights, these men and women were the successors to another group of knights that served England long ago.

Scáthach couldn't help but feel respect for them.

"Lady Scáthach Árd-Greimne," Rufus says while stepping forward, his face an ice-cold mask that betrayed nothing of what he felt. "My name is Sir Rufus Scrimgeour, I am here to execute a warrant for your arrest on the grounds of assault, assault with extreme bodily injury, attempted murder, attempted murder on a public official, and sedition against the Ministry of Magic," the old lion says, pausing for a moment to let the charges sink in as students all around them gasp and start whispering once more. "I ask you, for yourself and the children that you teach, please do not resist. Surrender your wand and come quietly," he orders with a firm and unyielding tone of voice before he stands still, his back straight and head held high and without fear.

Scáthach raises her brow as she looks down at the man. "Fourteen?" she asks, causing Rufus to scowl in confusion, "You only brought fourteen aurors with you to apprehend me? I must admit, Sir Scrimgeour, I find all this rather…insulting," she admits while leaning back in her chair.

"And if I had it my way I would have done this privately with only two others, and for that, you have my apologies. However, concerns were raised about an unidentified dark creature you had under your command," Rufus says, looking as if he wanted to roll his eyes at it all.

Scáthach pauses for a moment before shaking her head. "You misunderstand me, Sir Scrimgeour. I am not insulted that you brought so many," she says, watching as a confused scowl appears on Rufus' face. "I am insulted that you brought so few," she says, her words are followed by Severus quickly shooting up from his seat, his wand pointed at his throat.

"All students are to return to their dormitory imm-" Severus begins to say, his voice booming around the hall under the effects of the Sonorous charm. But his words are quickly cut off as Scáthach raises her hand and snaps her fingers, silencing him. Severus freezes, his eyes wide with fear shot to Scáthach, who sits unbothered by his actions.

"Now, Severus," Scáthach says as her eyes turn to him. "There is no need to dismiss the students just yet, they still haven't finished their breakfast. So why don't you sit down and enjoy your coffee," she tells him and watches as the dark man slowly sits back down, trying hard to hide the fear flashing in his eyes as Scáthach turns back to the intruders at her school.

Scáthach slowly stands from her seat before she begins to walk behind the other teachers of her school. Some were in confusion but others in uncertainty, for out of everyone in Hogwarts there were very few who were aware of her true nature. Filius, Pomona, Severus, Minerva, and Albus were the only ones who knew who she truly was, of what she truly was. She could feel the eyes of those who interrupted breakfast on her, only one of them was aware of her true nature and knew what was about to come. But there was always one foolish enough and arrogant enough to say something to an unknown danger.

"See, that's what I thought!" the man with the bowler hat says with a grin and a nod of his head. "All talk and bluster, but when faced with the full might of the ministry, you fold, just like how Dumbledore will when he returns. Oh yes, I have a warrant for his arrest as well, he'll be joining you in a cell soon enough, you'll see," the man says, so sure of himself and his words.

"You mistake me, …whoever you are," Scáthach says as she takes the steps down from the raised platform slowly, her hands folded behind her back.

"I am the Minister of-" the man tries to yell, but Scáthach is quite done with all of this.

"I don't care," she says, cutting off the man as his face turns red. "Your self-inflated ego and unwarranted sense of self-importance have grated on my last nerve, for I assure you, I have never come quietly in my existence and I do not plan on starting now," Scáthach tells him and ignores the giggles coming from Fúamnach.

"It doesn't matter! Whatever nonsense you and Dumbledore have been cooking up, it ends now!" the minister screams as he crumples his bowler hat in his hand. "Hogwarts will finally be under the Ministry's control, how it should have been from the start, and these foolish games you, Dumbledore, and Peverell have been playing end here!" he yells, his face almost turning purple as he does.

Scáthach is quiet while the minister finishes his rant, an unimpressed and angry look on her face as she glares at him. "You are correct in at least two things you said, Albus plays these games, The Morrígan plays these games, but I assure you minister," she says mockingly, "I do not," she says as anger finally enters her tone as a resounding BOOM echoes around the hall from the doors that lead into the great hall slam shut. Whirls and clicks could be heard as everyone turned to see the large door locking and sealing itself. The stone floor beneath the house tables begins to shift and draw back, moving like a muggle Rubix cube and dragging the tables of all four houses and the staff table up the walls. Many of the children gasped and screamed as they clung to the tables in hopes of not falling off, but to their surprise nothing moved, it was as if gravity changed with the movement of the table, keeping them safe and seated.

The aurors, the minister, and the toad all watch in growing amazement at the feat of magic before turning back to Scáthach, who now stood before them, her eyes glowing with a menacing power. "You also fail to recognize one very important thing. This is not your school, this is not Albus' school, this is not Hogwarts," Scáthach says, and with each word, her anger grows and the shadows around her grow thicker, iron stalks of thorns begin to grow and sprout from in between the cracks in the floors and the walls.

The Witch-Queen raises her hand and summons forth the divine instrument that had her name sung in infamy across the isles, the Gaé Bolg pluses to life with unrestrained bloodlust as her hand wraps around the haft of it. The shadows engulf her, twisting into haunting visages of ghostly faces and grinning monstrosities before fading away to show Scáthach stripped of her mortal visage. Clad in black leather wielding her divine spear, her lace mourning veil pulled back to keep her hair out of her face, she stands before the gathered aurors; clueless of who they faced.

"This is my school, this is Dún Scaith!" the Witch-Queen yells before slamming the butt of her spear against the flagstone floor, sending cracks through it with a single hit. "And if you want it, you'll have to take it from me!"

---

Chapter over!

Awwww, shit. It's about to go down as Scáthach has her Rorschach moment. The only that has been stopping her from doing just this is the fact she gave Dumbledore her word that she would allow him to continue with running the school without interfering herself, and as Lugh said to Harry: "Watch your words, for on these Isles with us now walking about; they are binding."

The only way Scáthach could act is if everyone who was "in charge" of the school were no longer there to do so. Well, Dumbledore is at Point Nemo and McG is now in the hospital for an extended stay, meaning there isn't anyone to stop her.

Harry is mulling over being an auror because he's not sure he wants to be one, for while it sounds right up his alley, it goes against what he truly wants; a peaceful life. But in walks Brynhilda, another Magician.

Tbh, I didn't plan on her being a Magician originally, just someone from the ICE sent to pass along a job offer to Harry, but the more I wrote the more she just…came to life.

Anyway, on to more important news.

We have entered the end game for this book with this chapter, and with it a change to my posting schedule. I want to deliver the best possible book ending to you all, so I will be posting every two weeks now. It will give me time to write more chapters like this one and enable my poor editor to rest from having to fix my fuck ups every week.

And trust me, with these last few chapters, I'm going to need the time.

Kingsaxcul, Out!