𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖊

Act II - The Warlock of Hogwarts

Chapter 14 - Counterattack

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife.

Dolores Umbridge slowly rose from her chair and made slow, steady steps towards him. It didn't matter if Ron was the one who voiced it, Umbridge would consider it his fault.

"I do not wish to criticise the way things have been running in this school," said Umbridge, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, "but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed, not to mention," she gave a nasty little laugh, "extremely dangerous half-breeds."

"If you mean Professor Lupin," piped up Dean Thomas angrily, "he was the best we've ever—"

"Hand, Mr. —"

"Thomas!"

Umbridge sneered, but like before, it was gone, replaced by that fake, sickening smile. "As I was saying, you've been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group, and potentially lethal. You've been frightened into believing that you're likely to meet dark attacks every other day."

"No, we haven't!" Hermione claimed. "We just—"

"Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!"

Umbridge ignored Hermione, meeting the laconic defiance in Harry's eyes. "It is also my understanding that you've been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead and is at large once again. That. Is. A. Lie!"

"It's not a lie!" said Ron, shaking his fists. "Harry fought him!"

"Really?" asked Umbridge, in a horribly honeyed voice. "And can Mr. Potter reaffirm your words?"

Harry clenched his fists. Years of being stared on told him that every single eye in the room was currently on him. If he stood up against Umbridge and supported Ron's claims, she'd win, and have the chance to create further problems. If he didn't, Ron would feel betrayed, and he'd lose face in front of his supporters.

Either way, he was doomed.

"Come'n Harry!" Ron implored him. "Tell her!"

"It appears Mr. Potter here does not share your confidence, Mr. Weasley." Umbridge said in her sickly sweet tone. "Understandable. It is difficult to maintain your stand when you know that you're lying after all."

"Whatever!" said Ron. Harry did not miss the faint disbelief and anger in his voice. "Harry was attacked and kidnapped. It was all there in the trial. Surely that means—"

"Nothing," said Umbridge. "Percival Weasley perpetrated all of that. Mr. Weasley had taken undue advantage of his position to influence and, perhaps, confound important and upstanding members of the Wizarding society to make it look like a certain dark wizard has returned from the dead. It only makes me wonder if Mr. Weasley was secretly in cahoots with a certain someone. I mean, no one but Mr. Potter made it out alive, and interestingly, without so much as a scratch—"

But Harry wasn't listening anymore. Instead, something ugly way down deep inside him somewhere unsheathed its claws and tensed up. A part that wanted to grab this bitch and show her what real darkness was like. Everyone had that inside them, somewhere. It took fairly horrible things to awaken that kind of savagery, but it was in everyone. It was the part that caused senseless atrocities that made war hell.

No one wanted to talk about it or think about it, but Harry couldn't afford that kind of willing ignorance. Not after knowing what was within him. That part of him was awake and active and constantly pushing his emotions into conflict with his rationality.

And wouldn't it just be too easy? The feeling of cold, icy, death slowly trickling into her, seeping through her skin, slowly killing every single organ of her body as she screamed and screamed and screamed—

His vision shifted, the colours shifting into a familiar monochrome—

'"Ack!"

The sudden sound brought him back to focus.

Harry blinked, and found that Umbridge had already taken several steps back, and looked at him warily. Even Ron, he noticed, looked mightily pale. Hermione's forehead was furrowed, and the entire room had gone eerily silent.

Before he could say something, someone else did.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I kinda agree with Weasley there," said Draco Malfoy.

"... You do?" asked Umbridge, flummoxed. "Mr. Malfoy, I assure you—"

"Not with those lies, Professor Umbridge. I mean, obviously," Malfoy drawled. The bastard even had his hand raised, with an oily smile on his smug face, a picture of a model student. "I was referring to his other opinion. What if we get attacked within these halls?"

In his imagination, Harry clenched his fists and counted to five in an enraged scream. He had almost lost control and didn't want to start something violent with Malfoy or Umbridge in the very first defence class. If he threw down, he would catch a lot of hell. He allowed himself the pleasure of gritting his teeth, took a deep breath, and waited for Malfoy to finish.

"I mean," drawled the ferret, "My father mentioned it. Something about letters being sent to the Ministry by anxious parents, fearing about a certain… unstable wizard among us. Certainly we'd need to cast spells in self-defence. Isn't that right, professor?"

Umbridge nodded at him, her face the epitome of concern. "I completely understand your distress, Mr. Malfoy. The Ministry of Magic is not ignorant of the blatant… favouritism at play in Hogwarts. Neither is it uncaring of the plight of the parents, and the desperate plea of the Board of governors. It is why the esteemed minister enacted the Educational Decree Number 22. Please be patient. The Ministry will take care of your concerns."

For a second, the fingers of his right hand quivered, and he found the ugly part of him about to hurl his power at the bitch, and show her exactly what he was capable of. Sirius might have rushed him through standard defence spells and tactics, but Snape's little book contained more than a few interesting spells. He wondered how Sectumsempra would affect her, especially when hit from such a close range, and amplified by Parseltongue.

The less bloodthirsty part of him wondered if Daphne was right all along. He had done nothing wrong, so why was he dealing with this mess? It'd be simple to just quit Hogwarts and shift to Beauxbatons or Ilvermorny. He didn't owe these people anything. Sirius would be all too willing to leave this place and move abroad. His godfather wouldn't give two shits about the House of Black if it compromised Harry's safety. He was sure even Joshua wouldn't think twice before agreeing to it, transferring Daphne with him. Fleur… he knew she'd be in with whatever he decided. There was simply no question. He could just leave and leave this rotting country to its rotten leaders. Maybe he could even convince Hermione to join him. It'd show Fudge exactly what he had done. And when Voldemort made a public return, it'd show the sheep of this land exactly what they had done and why they deserved everything that would follow. And then they'd all see if they were so righteous afterward. It'd be wrong but…

He took a slow breath. No, Sirius had once told him you could always tell when you're about to rationalise your way to a bad decision. It was when you started using phrases such as 'It'd be wrong but…" His advice was to leave the conjunction out of the sentence.

It would be wrong. Period.

So he did nothing rash. He didn't let the rising maelstrom within him come out. But that didn't mean he had to sit there and listen to the drivel this bitch was spewing.

Slowly, carefully, he raised a hand.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

His lips twisted into a small smile. At least she wasn't pretending to not know him. "I just wished to say that I agree with Mr. Malfoy."

Umbridge blinked.

Draco did as well.

Neither of them had seen it coming. And to be honest, neither had he. Reeling in the urge to attack, he twisted his lips into a dark smile.

"It's about what he said, Professor. Safety. You're right. We're students. There should be nothing to fear in these halls. We shouldn't be expecting to get attacked during class. Wouldn't you agree, Professor Umbridge?"

And just like that, the smile evaporated from the woman's lips.

"... Yes. Of course."

Harry smiled predatorily. It felt natural. "But as Ron, excuse me, I mean, Mr. Weasley pointed out, I was attacked and kidnapped. Why, even Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour were victims of that. A lightning spell almost killed Victor, while Fleur suffered from the cruciatus. Surely you remember that? You were the Ministry prosecutor."

Umbridge was openly scowling now. "I… remember that. Vaguely, yes. But we've already caught the perpetrator." She smiled snidely at him. "It was your friend Mr. Weasley's older brother. Perhaps you should be more careful in selecting your friends, Mr. Potter?"

"Absolutely," said Harry. One could see him smiling through his eyes. "But there's this, Professor. Look at the people that… Percy Weasley used to commit his… dastardly deeds. Sure, they were highly respected members of our society, but they were also in Death Eater robes. But obviously, because they were imperiused. Wouldn't you agree?"

Umbridge gnashed her teeth, clearly hating the way he was leading her.

"And that's the thing, professor. Already there has been an attempt to kidnap, torture and possibly kill me by imperiused Death Eaters. For all we know, these weak-willed followers of Dark Lord Tom Riddle, who's obviously dead, as the Ministry proclaimed, are still around, acting without their own volition? Who can say? Perhaps I also need to watch out for their relatives? Weak mental fortitude seems like something that gets passed down from…" his eyes shifted to Draco, "father to son."

"Why you little—" Draco began, snapping his wand out. "Take your words back! You filthy—"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Draco," said Harry, raising his hands up in mock surrender. "Whatever you think I did, I didn't."

He didn't even need to raise his wand against the ferret. Even on the off chance that Malfoy threw something at him, it'd only prove his point right and score a point against Umbridge. And even if it turned out to be something dark, his family magic would counter it.

It had done so several times before.

"I mean, I didn't take any names, did I?Unless you think your father is actually a weak-willed Imperius victim that bowed and kissed the helm of a bastard son of a squib and a muggle—"

Ron snorted.

"Potter!" Draco growled.

"Professor Umbridge," Harry cried out in a mocking plea for help. "Slinkhard's book tells us to surrender when we have a wand pointed at us. I'm even complying with Draco's commands. Please tell me what I'm doing wrong."

Half the class was sniggering. The rest of them were passing amused glances or getting angry at his insinuations.

"Mr. Potter!" barked Umbridge. "Stop antagonising Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Malfoy, put your wand down! That's an order!"

"Yes, Draco!" Harry sang. "Listen to the good professor! I have my hands up in surrender. Slinkhard says you ought to not attack me! Let's manage things peacefully."

Draco only clenched his wand tighter.

"See?" Harry replied, not even trying to hide the glee from his voice. He really ought to be a better person. "This is why we need to practise spells. No one knows when a weak-willed wizard can attack you out of nowhere for no reason at all. I mean, it's probably all about blood—"

Something snapped.

Draco's chest stopped heaving, and a snarl appeared on his rage-lit face.

"EVERTE STATUM MAXIMA!"

The spell bodily lifted and spun him in midair, and threw him over by several feet. Harry crashed through several benches, bounced, flipped, skidded and rolled nearly thirty feet. The first snap was merely surprising. The second made him notice it. By the third, he was getting alarmed. Luckily, adrenaline and the confidence that he had survived much worse made him feel no pain. By the time his body came to rest, he could barely make out the screams of horror amongst the student crowd. His vision was turning white, but he was sure that several people were closing around him.

A small smile formed on his face.

I win.

"Madam Pomfrey, this won't take long, will it?" asked an annoyed Harry Potter after waking up in the Hospital Wing. "I mean, I feel as fit as a hippogriff. Can't I just leave already?"

Poppy Pomfrey bustled over, just like Andi did back at home. He wondered if they taught healers to do that in medical school. "Mr. Potter," claimed the matron, "you've multiple fractures on your arms, a separated shoulder and three broken ribs. Not to mention the residual effects of taking a hit like that head on. Lay back, you are not going anywhere for the rest of the day. If your arms and your ribs are as bad as I think, I might keep you overnight just so that we can grow it with Skele Gro."

Harry winced. Not because Skele Gro was bad enough, but because it wouldn't work. The problem of having the power of Death in his veins was that it was a natural inhibitor to any foreign magic entering his system. It was why he was unaffected by curses, at least those that bypassed the skin and affected him inside. It was an irony of the universe that the more esoteric the curse, the less impactful it would be upon him, while an overpowered knockback jinx could send him all packed to the Hospital Wing.

"Do you know what happened after I was brought here? To Malfoy, I mean."

The matron frowned. "There was some commotion at the Headmaster's office. That woman spoke in his favour, but the Headmaster was not pleased over such a blatant use of violence against another. I believe they summoned his parents. Your godfather will visit you. I believe Minerva contacted the DMLE, but Sirius Black was out on a mission. I believe he should be floo'ing at the moment he gets back to the office."

"Bugger." Harry mumbled. "Sirius is gonna panic—"

"Minerva clarified you were not in any danger."

That didn't dull his fear in the slightest. His godfather had tunnel vision where he was concerned. Sometimes he wondered if Sirius took the Hit-Wizard Captaincy simply to keep himself distracted from thinking about Harry. That and it helped reduce the number of criminals and potential Death Eaters.

"Really Potter," said the matron, frowning. "What were you thinking? Taking a hit like that head on?"

Harry grinned. "I was just following the Professor's orders. The book said to raise my hands up in surrender, so I did. How would I know Malfoy couldn't read? Maybe his father should know about this."

Pomfrey snorted at his words. "And now you remind me of your rascal of a father. Don't think I don't know what you did. I've seen you over the years and I can see one of your schemes from a mile away."

"But— but Madam Pomfrey!" Harry cried in mock outrage. "Does that mean you're spying on me?"

Poppy rolled her eyes. "Now rest! I'll not have you speak any further."

Harry sighed. "Oh, come on, Madam Pomfrey. You know fully well that the potions haven't been working on me."

That stopped her short.

"It won't," Harry continued. "I'll just have to heal the natural way. Granted, my magic makes it a bit faster than the usual wizard, but I'll be fine. In fact, I feel fine."

Poppy frowned. "Potter, that's not natural—"

"I'm hardly natural, Madam Pomfrey. It's part of my freak— I mean, my family magic. You can ask Andi, I mean, Andromeda Tonks. She's my healer."

Pomfrey arched an eyebrow. 'I will ask her to send a copy of your health records. But honestly, Potter. You've got to be careful. I applaud you for keeping your calm and turning that… woman's plans against her, but you have to stop doing this."

"I don't need to do that anymore, Madam Pomfrey!" said Harry. "That was my last class. Dumbledore gave me permission to skip whatever classes I want, so long as I maintain my grades."

Every other person Harry had shared this info with had gone wide-eyed, perhaps trying to wrap their heads around why the Headmaster would give him such a permission. Those that knew about his Warlock status would at least draw conclusions in that direction, while others would ask if he was the perks of being a Triwizard Champion extended for the rest of his Hogwarts years.

Not Poppy Pomfrey. She looked at him for a few seconds after he finished talking, perhaps processing his answer in her mind. Then she nodded.

"I see," she said. And that was that.

"Yes, now can I go?"

"No. And if you keep asking me, I'll break your bones again, just to see how quickly your magic heals them compared to the normal wizard. Experimentation is the key to understanding, as they say."

"Monster!"

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