To Ride the Carousel Again

Chapter 22

Standard "I make nought from, and own nought of the characters
created by JK Rowling," disclaimer

The 'Mot summons, The Rat, a clash with Dumbledore

/*

Apologies for this update being a bit late. The campground's advertised wifi is broken and my impression is they are in no rush to fix it. So, drove 16 miles into town to the library and here you are.

For those thinking I'm an idiot, I have lots better uses for $600/yr. than to upgrade to a hotspot cell plan.

Not a total loss. My wife had Kohl's Cash and a 20% off coupon burning a hole in her wallet. She needs a new sleep shirt.

Approx. 8,000 words

/*

"The knowledge of the time of Professor Quirrell's probable death."

She re-intensified her look at Harry. "Oh, I know how it was explained away last spring as the curse of the DADA position forcing him to leave early. And though I was suspicious then, some bragging I heard from your 'friend' Weasley last year, and again while cursing your name this year, has made me re-examine my knowledge of whatever it was you three did last year."

"If I asked you directly Lord Potter, would you tell me if you and your friends managed to keep that madman from somehow returning to a body, and restarting a war that probably would get us all killed?"

Saturday, September 19, 1992

The trio and half of the first year's students all trooped into the Great Hall a bit later than usual as several of them had slept in for an extra half hour.

Harry was quite tired as the group made the doorway. Tired and anxious as his plans for later tonight were in progress. The plan for Hermione's birthday party this afternoon was all set as of last night. Also, Harry was expecting his summons from the Wizengam+`ot today. According to Neville, they would be holding their Spring Equinox meeting Monday and they would want to find out just what had happened that Harry had become Lord Potter with them knowing nothing about it.

And all that had been in progress before Heiress Greengrass had dropped her bombshell on Harry yesterday afternoon. He had somehow in his shock managed to fob her off with "I've been instructed not to talk about that night," and "I will check to find if you can be told some of the, um . . . incident."

The Slytherin truly had a glare that could rival Hermione's.

"Very well, Lord Potter. As I am an unknown to you, I shall allow you to drop the subject for a while. However, my Lord Greengrass will become more insistent with me to gather some more information for him in the near future. Or perhaps he will discuss further options at the Wizengamot meeting Monday."

The very pretty girl suddenly put a friendly smile on her face. "And on a personal note, Lord Potter, your, um, politely acrimonious discussion with Professor Snape on ingredients and their possible interactions during brewing was highly illuminating. Even though he was being nothing but spiteful when he took all those points away from Gryffindor after your suggesting ways to improve certain potions. Thank you."

"No, thank Mum. Some of those ingredient and brewing changes to certain potions are brilliant," Harry thought.

"You are welcome Heiress Greengrass. Do you wish to have your tracking charms reapplied?"

The pleasant smile was replaced with a cold one promising pain to someone. "No. Let them believe I have discovered and removed them myself. After all, in a few days I will learn how to do just that."

"Until next time, Lord Potter." And with two graceful curtsy's the Slytherins turned and left.

That comment by a girl who was pretty and smart, had Hermione also very quietly saying that she thought that with the help Lupin had given her, she could do the Specialis Revelio Charm to check their food and drink for contamination. It had taken her almost a month of practice to claim she could perform it, but she thought now she could.

Harry might not need it if Neville's information about some of the protections spelled into a Lord's ring were correct. However, belt and suspenders never hurt if it was important and there was a chance of failure.

Neville had just looked at her in awe. Harry did also, but he also had learned from Lupin that charm was a sixth-year charm, so he was super impressed. Hermione had pinked up under their stares.

Harry's anxiety continued as they entered the Great Hall, even as he noticed that Dumbledore was again not seated on his throne behind the staff table, but it was less than the previous three days. Today all it seemed he had to worry about were the dark, venomous looks being glared at him by Snape.

"I wonder where he is? It's been almost four days now since the Dailey Prophet had made public my having obtained my Lordship. And their next two days of follow up stories. Even those stupid sketches of how I might look in my Wizengamot robes, complete with my old, round frame glasses. Didn't anyone tell them I had a new look? " For some reason the dreaded talk with the Headmaster was becoming less scary the longer it was delayed, but Harry was entering the stage of just wanting to get it over with.

The four of them had made several plans and contingencies for his headmaster meeting.

Something else that had happened was also bolstering his belief his plans would succeed. As the boys in the dorm were getting ready for bed, Ron had belligerently brushed past Harry as he was leaving the washroom. The Potter ring had heated and vibrated slightly at the closest encounter the two had had since the ride on the Express.

Just as Harry and the others were finishing breakfast, a tawny owl wearing a harness bearing the medallion of the Wizengamot dropped out of the ceiling to land on the table in front of him. The owl examined him for a moment then extended his leg that had a shrunken scroll carry tube attached.

After slipping a bit of ham to the bird, (who bobbed its head in thanks before it took-off) Harry enlarged and unrolled a parchment which he found to have several stamps, ribbons and seals attached.

The language of the missive was archaic, and fulsome, but direct. Lord Harald James Potter was to present himself to the Wizengamot in their Level Nine chamber on Monday September 21, 1992 at the tenth hour to answer questions about his Lordship ascension of Potter House.

He passed the letter to Neville first as he was the friend with expertise, well, some expertise anyway. Harry almost laughed out loud when he saw his friend's reaction to who the notice had been sent to.

He kept an eye on Hermione after Neville passed the scroll on to her. He knew she had reached his name as she gasped and jerked her head up to look at him, her eyes and mouth wide with shock.

"Don't say anything Hermione. Don't scream, yell or squeal. This is private House Potter information, not to be told to anyone else. It's only because of our friendship that I have let you see that information. Don't make me regret it," Harry said quietly to her.

The young girl fought to get her reaction under control.

Once again he was the object of everyone's attention. He mentally scoffed, wondering how many knew or guessed what the owl had delivered.

He saw Greengrass and Davis nodding their heads slightly. Susan, and her friend Hanna, both acknowledged his look with a smile and a head bow.

Across the table, Luna was grinning like mad. The remaining first-years in the group looked confused and were working up the nerve to ask what had just happened.

He included them in his gaze. "The Wizengamot has requested the presence of Lord Potter at their Equinox meeting on Monday."

He gave the heavy sigh of sigh of a man having to do something he does not want to. "I had better talk to Professor McGonagall about missing classes."

/*

It was near three in the afternoon when Harry tracked down his best friend in the library. His first try at getting her to leave with him was met with a long refusal.

"I'm still not sure I have the incantation and wand movement correct for the tracking charm revealing spell. And we haven't had a chance to try the Tracking Charm removal or the Listening Charm removal, or th . . . ."

He took a good look at her and crumpled a bit inside. She was looking as frazzled as she had practically driven herself into the infirmary trying to find information and researching spells to try to keep him alive during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. And here she was, doing it again.

Something boiled up in his chest as he looked at her, peering hard. She was doing it again. Practically killing herself trying to keep him from getting killed.

She was starting to fidget under his stare. "Didn't he know how important this was? If he was right, then there probably was another year of danger starting to gather headway around him just like last year. And if she didn't get him prepared for it, this time he might not live through whatever it was."

When she rather desperately wrenched her eyes away from his hardening glare, he stepped forward into her space and gently, wordlessly tugged her up out of her chair and into a gentle hug.

"My lovely Lady with All the Questions. I haven't told you how much I appreciate all your work to keep me from being killed or injured by the idiocy that happens at this school," he whispered in her ear.

Ooops. Harry felt as she stiffened. What had he done? It had to be something wrong, but . . . Suddenly he knew. He had just reminded her that she had mostly abandoned her search for answers to Harry's Why-Things-had-Happened, in order to concentrate, once again, on Saving Harry.

"Sigh," he thought. "Now she will begin to work even longer hours trying to help me against Dumdumdork, find the answers to 'why me?' and keep up with her school work."

"However, since there seem to be no life-or-death situations rearing up to bite us this afternoon, I want you to come with me up to the 'Lordship Training Room'. My Best Friend needs a break before she collapses from overwork."

Before she could loudly object, he started putting books neatly on the table, and her books, parchments, inks and quills into her back pack. When she looked like she could not contain herself any longer, he silently pointed at Madame Pince, the Librarian. He tsk-tsk'd quietly and held a finger up to his lips while grabbing her back pack with his other hand. She huffed not-so-quietly but waited to start berating him until they were out the library door.

He worked on distracting her as he opened up their study room's door. He was mostly successful as she was two steps into the darkened room before she noticed the changes to the room. She came to a sudden halt as the lights flared up and two dozen voices cried "Surprise! Happy Birthday!

She had just started the movement to sweep her school robe aside and snatch her wand from her self-made hip holster when Harry seemed to casually grasp her hand and stopped her from hexing half the crowd into pain or goo.

He easily spun the shocked girl into another medium strength hug. After a moment he released her and said, "Happy Birthday. I hope you like cake and presents. I think we have lots of both."

"Oh, Harry, you shouldn't have."

"Tough, Miss-now-teenager-Granger, I did anyway."

The two had a moment to stare into each other's eyes before they were mobbed by well-wishers.

There were small sandwiches, scones, muffins, jam and clotted cream all to be washed down with tea, pumpkin juice and water. The Weasley twins had borrowed a portable wizarding wireless from somewhere and had it playing loud teenage wizard music.

All the first and second year Gryffs, minus Ron, were there. Fred and George completed the Lions.

Padma Patil had shown up because as Parvati told Harry when told about the party, "Since we're in different houses we just don't see each other enough." Two other people Harry barely knew were Justin Finch-Fletchley and Hanna Abbott who had come to keep Susan Bones from coming alone.

After half an hour, Harry said the magic word, 'Cake' and everyone gathered around the non-gift laden end of the table.

A large two-tier white and pink frosted cake suddenly appeared on the table with thirteen burning candles. Fred and George started the 'Happy Birthday to You' song and Hermione managed to blow out all the candles after taking great comedic pains to look like she was wishing her heart out.

The comedy was cover. She actually was hoping that maybe, just maybe, magic might grant her wish.

She was stunned by the amount of presents. She looked around the assembled classmates, unbelieving that they would actually give her something for her birthday.

Of course, it was virtually pre-ordained that Lavender and Parvati would take over passing Hermione the presents from the pile while separating cards from presents so the birthday girl could read the card before ripping any wrapping paper off.

Most of the gifts were as expected from preteens with little money. Candy, little figurines, and of all things, the Puffs had combined their money and gave her a Wizard's Crossword Puzzle book. Luna gave a subscription to a journal called the Quibbler. Neville gave her a transfiguration book and Harry's present was a simple golden necklace with the chain holding her stylized initials HJG. He would give her the more personal, and expensive, improved Grade 4-5 spell books later. Privately.

The necklace managed to look innocently simple, and very age and friendship appropriate. At least Harry hoped everyone would be fooled. He had used his Diagon Alley directory to find Truwaithe's Fine Wizarding Jewelry and after some owl post negotiations, that necklace ended up with an unbreakable chain, and the strongest shields against hexes, jinxes and curses the enchanter could place on the small, innocuous piece of jewelry.

He also hoped against hope she would never need it.

/*

After a light dinner, Harry went to see his Head of House. He wanted to inform her of the summons and to get her permission to take some advisors along.

Harry was invited to sit across her office desk from her. After being shown the summons, she started her interrogation. "Who else's education are you planning to interrupt on Monday, Lord Potter?" the severe witch asked sharply.

"Heir Longbottom, who has become my principle advisor, Heiress Bones, another trusted advisor, and Hermione Granger to advise me because she has been reading up on Wizarding law.

Harry could tell she was fighting to keep the surprise at his list off her face. "How do you plan on getting from here in Scotland all the way down to London, Lord Potter?" she next asked expecting him to hem and haw because of not being familiar with wizarding travel.

"My family solicitor will be meeting us at the front gate and she told me we would leave for the Ministry from the Three Broomsticks. I understand it's a pub in Hogsmeade."

Harry had actually rehearsed the last comment. He did not want to sound familiar with a village he supposedly had never visited.

The stern woman stared at him for a few more moments. "I'm going to have to disappoint you, Lord Potter. As none of the other students you mentioned are of family or tied to you in any way, without written permission from their parents or guardians, your request is refused."

Harry reached down into his backpack sitting on the floor beside him and removed several parchments. "I have signed permission for Neville and Miss Bones from their guardians. Hermione's parents have signed her letter."

The older witch's eyebrows raised slightly while she rapidly read the permissions. Harry figured any other witch would have been gasping with surprise.

"How did you know I would be requiring these, Lord Potter? You are obviously much more prepared than I would have expected."

Harry fought a losing battle with the smirk that wanted to dance across his face. "Professor, have you met my friend Hermione Granger in full research mode? Particularly when she has discovered a new book chock full of information on the magical world? Something like the Hogwarts Rules of Staff and Student Conduct, perhaps?" he ended with some snark to his voice.

"Almost wore out poor Hedwig's wings getting all this done," he mused aloud. "Would you prefer I summon Miss Granger to cite the proper sections that state a Head of an Ancient or Noble House, who happens to be a student here, may request the presence of any other student he deems is required to perform any off-school duties he may have?"

McGonagall answered in the negative.

"And this meeting shows why I have, and desperately need, advisors like them," finished off Harry.

"And that they are also heirs to two of the few remaining Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses is merely a coincidence?" responded his stern Head of House.

He ducked his head. "Actually," he mumbled. "They sorta picked me."

/*

It was two hours later he woke up his beautiful Hedwig by walking into the owlery. After she had glided down to his arm, he explained her mission to her.

"Give this letter to Madame Malkin. It has my authorization in blood on it. She can get Hermione's measurements off her school uniforms she bought a month ago, and bring 'em back here. Alright girl? I know it's late and I've been having you do a lot of flying these last few days. You can get a nap while waiting, and I promise three rashers of bacon when you get back tomorrow."

With a soft "Prek" she rubbed her head along his cheek and launched herself out into the twilight.

/*

It was late, well after midnight, and Harry was sitting very quietly on the floor by the door. He was wearing his invisibility cloak and had placed a Silencing Charm around where he was sitting.

"If Hermione finds I can do a fifth-year spell, I'm going to have to lie about Lupin having taught it to me. Trying to explain that she taught it to me in fourth-year would be incredibly mind bending. And I'm not too sure just how much further I want bend her brain right now."

He wished he knew how to apply the scent masking charm, but . . . He was left hoping The Rat attributed any Harry odor to leftover scent.

His attention was being split between the cage containing The Rat and a large cauldron cake smothered in strawberry preserves lying loosely wrapped in a buttery paper that looked like it had accidentally dropped on the floor near the foot of his bed.

Harry had finally refined his plan for dealing with Pettigrew and freeing Sirius. Now he was sitting there trying very hard not to move or make any noise. The longer he sat, the more he wished that he could talk with someone about his plan. He was getting more and more nervous he had overlooked something and either The Rat would escape, or he would somehow tip off Dumbledore, or the Ministry, that he was a time traveler. "Damn Upper Management!"

For almost three weeks Harry had resisted the urge to just kill The Rat that had brought so much misery to his life. He could not even tell his friends that the reason he had started looking so stressed was not because of his upcoming Lord Potter reveal, it was because he was having trouble sleeping in the same room as his parents and Sirius' betrayer.

He also tended to stay out of the dorm because he found he wanted to constantly glare his hatred when he was in the room where Ron played with his rat on his bed and fed him the few scraps from meal's he hadn't eaten himself. It was worse when he forgot about Scabbers needing to be fed as he sat skivvying off in the common room playing chess, or gobstones, or arguing quidditch.

Tonight was one of those nights and made Harry feel maybe luck would be on his side tonight. The redhead had stayed up late thrashing some fifth-year at wizard's chess and apparently was hungry as he entered the dorm. After he searched his pockets, Harry watched him eat some scraps he had put there from the dinner table to feed his pet.

He watched as his dorm mate dropped his clothes alongside his bed, scratched himself in some places Harry would rather have not watched, crawled into his bed and was snoring within a minute of pulling his blankets over himself.

The black-haired boy had been correct when he figured the smushed cake under a weak Notice-Me-Not charm would not be noticed by Ron.

On the other hand, the awakened rat had been frantically running around, rattling its cage, squeaking, trying to get the attention of his 'owner'. Apparently the pungent food smell was driving the very hungry rat crazy.

The noise from the cage suddenly cut off. As Harry watched, a rat foreleg fumbled its way between the cage door bars to the door latch. With a quiet, practiced fumble at the latch, The Rat popped the lock. And for the second time, Harry watched the scraggly creature as the door swung open and a very wary Rat eased its way into the open floor.

The jerky movements of the ratty head as it followed its rapidly twitching nose made for a slow advance across the floor by Pettigrew.

Harry was barely breathing, desperate to not make a noise. His eyes and wand tracked the practically jittering rat. Suddenly it suddenly froze. Harry was almost panicked into taking the cast, but instantly realized The Rat had frozen as its weak eyesight had seen the glop of the wrapped cauldron cake and its strawberry glaze sitting open on the floor.

He felt he could see the warfare going on in the animagus' mind. A wealth of food was right there! But, the rat part of the brain was, as always, reluctant to leave the safety of walls and shadows. Rat instinct was bad things happen to rats that were seen out in the open.

The more Pettigrew dithered, the more Harry was again wishing he had just stunned the rat while poking his wand into the cage and casting. He had rejected that method due to he was still having control issues with his spells. If intent counted in spell cast strength, Harry was afraid he would splatter the remains of the animagus over the inside of the cage and beyond. Hence, he needed some distance between wand and target. And e-e-a-sy on the spell strength.

There! The Rat scurried over to the dropped cake and started to gobble the cake and jam. Harry wanted to laugh hysterically at how like Ron his "pet" was. Especially as it was eating the greasy wrapping paper instead of just ripping through it.

He watched for two minutes as the rat desperately barely chewed in its frantic effort to fill its stomach and flee for safety. Seeing a slow up in the frenzied gobbling, he ever-so-carefully poked the tip of his wand out of the cloak.

His intent was building as he realized what The Rat was doing. Harry again almost giggled from tension as The Rat attempted to use one paw to hold a large chunk of cake against its chest and started to hobble three-legged back towards its cage via crawling around Ron's discarded clothes.

"Stupefy," came the whisper from Harry, and The Rat was hit before its sensitive rat hearing even registered the voice.

Harry had pulled his power, his intent, down, but The Rat was still knocked arse-over-tit to practically under Ron's bed. Harry carefully, silently, watched The Rat and the rest of the room. The last thing he wanted was questions from anybody about what he was doing. He gave it a whole minute before rising and quietly padding over to the sprawled-out Rat.

"You are going to pay, Peter. You're lucky I, or rather Sirius, needs you so badly to get out of Azkaban. Look on the bright side. If Professor Lupin had found you first, he would have made sure you died in great pain. That would have been vengeance, and because of my parents and what you did in that cursed cemetery, I would have cheered him on."

"Lucky for you I spent some time in the Potter library where I read about justice versus vengeance. I, fortunately for you, will turn you over to Susan Bones' aunt for justice."

Scooping up the comatose rat, Harry Vanished the cake mess, scooted over to his trunk and opened up its still secret third compartment. Climbing down into his office/study room, he laid the rodent on his desk. Reaching behind him he brought out the cage he had purchased in Diagon Alley just before school.

He had always figured on having to steal The Rat unless he could come up with a very good argument for Ron to give Scabbers to him. However, remembering how Ron had desperately clung to his 'pet' during the previous fight in the Shrieking Shack, Harry had not really believed that plan would work. Ron felt he had so little, that he hung fiercely onto that little he thought was his. And with the way he was acting lately . . .

He opened the right-hand desk drawer and pulled out two vials. One looked like ink, and the other was a soft, clear yellow. Harry grabbed a pencil and laying The Rat on his back, he jammed the pencil crossways to keep the mouth with its sharp teeth from closing.

Picking up the vial with the black liquid, he now realized he had a problem. How to make the Stupefied rat swallow the potion?

"Hermione! AAUGH! This is the worst I've needed you all year! And I can't . . Gahh!"

For some reason, this little problem hadn't occurred to him.

As Harry sat glaring at The Rat. He had to get this right, If Hermione's explanation after third-year was correct, then accidently killing The Rat in rat form would leave him in that form, and Sirius would never be found innocent of Pettigrew's murder.

Or that Pettigrew was the actual Secret Keeper for the Potter's hiding place.

Both of these conditions required a live person.

Maybe call McGonagall? She probably knew a spell that could make Pettigrew look human again. However, would she make a promise that she would not tell the Headmaster? Harry would bet his Gringotts vault that Old Dumbnotdumore would find a way to keep Harry from exposing Pettigrew, ergo not having the evidence needed to free his godfather.

A ripple seemed to go through the rat. Harry realized he had best stop musing and do something. The mild Stupefy might be wearing off.

Firmly grasping The Rat, he rotated him to an angle and propped him against a book. Taking the vial in both hands to reduce his shakes, he carefully dropped one drop of the potion into the rat mouth. Using his fingertip, he very carefully tried massaging The Rats throat.

Nothing changed.

"That should hold him," Harry thought.

Removing the pencil, he placed Scabbers in the cage, and climbed out of his trunk. Using a Sticking Charm, had the cage clinging to his canopy over the foot of his bed. A follow up Notice-Me-Not Charm and Harry figured he was safe and done for the night.

Tiredly, he put on a pair of his new silky pajamas, and despite his nerves, was fast asleep in minutes.

/*

Sunday morning had Harry hurrying to breakfast. He slept late, and then had to make his preparations for what was to occur later in the morning.

The usual seven had already worked their way through their meal as Harry hurriedly sat down and started piling on wake-up foods on his plate and pumpkin juice into a goblet. And drank from it left-handed.

"Late night, Harry?" inquired Neville. The group became silent as was typical did when Harry was going to answer a question. Usually one that everyone was thinking, but were afraid to ask of The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry had managed to tamp their hero worship down, but it still showed in little ways.

"Yeah," he replied. "Mostly nerves about tomorrow."

Young heads nodded sagely around the group. Standing up and having to speak to the Wizengamot was felt to be a scary thing.

Harry casually looked around the Gryffindor table and spotted Ron up by Dean and Seamus shoveling food into his maw even though he must have been on his fourth or fifth plateful by now. Unsurprising he apparently had not checked on Scabbers yet. Food, after a long night of no meals or snacks, was much more important.

Harry saw the redhead dump some sausages and toast into a pocket before leaving. That was his cue to leave also. Since he figured as there were going to be accusations thrown around, much swearing, and possibly wand curses cast, he wanted it all to have lots of witnesses.

He, and his group were still short of the door when they were intercepted by Professor McGonagall.

"Lord Potter, the Headmaster requires your presence in his office in one hour from now."

Harry looked around to the Staff Table and did not see Dumbledore seated on his throne.

Interpreting Harry's look, the stern Scotswoman decided to unbend a bit. "He returned from an ICW meeting late last night and ate breakfast in his quarters."

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. "Professor, as per the Rules for Staff and Student Conduct, I want to have my Head of House present at that meeting."

That declaration brought a whole raised eyebrow from the woman. It was her turn to look thoughtful as Harry was betting she was reviewing the legitimacy of the of the request.

"Very well, Lord Potter, do you know where his office is?" She continued at his nod, " I shall meet you at the entrance at five minutes to ten o'clock." With that declaration, she turned and strode up the corridor.

"Let's go," Harry said as he also headed up the corridor. "I need to get ready for that meeting."

No one noticed the sharp look Hermione gave Harry. (1)

At least that was his public reason for hurrying along. The main reason still was he wanted lots of witnesses to what Harry figured would be Super Berk Ron as soon as he noticed no Scabbers in the dorm.

Entering the common room, Harry took a chair seat that gave him an open view of the steps up to the male dorms. He worked at not reacting when Hermione and Neville both gave him odd looks because he had obviously not taken their usual sofas over by the fireplace.

It was a few minutes later they were joined by Luna as she came back down into the common room, and sat down next to Hermione.

Harry gave her a glare as he didn't want anyone extra to be near him when Mount Ronald started spewing crap everywhere. She returned his look with one of her usual serene smiles. Then when her hand twitched, he noticed she was holding her wand in instead of it being behind her ear as usual.

Hermione was also giving him 'what-are-you-doing' looks as he was making no move to change into Lord Harald J. Potter, that would shift to glares as she remembered the addressee of that scroll. (And wasn't THAT a shock. THAT was information he had withheld from her. And she would get revenge, whether it made her look petty or not, she vowed in her mind.) "And why wasn't he moving?" she thought. "He'll need time to find the headmaster's office since he hasn't been there bef . . . Wait a moment, he knows!"

Harry had changed his glare into a question. The petite blonde just increased her smile until suddenly her eyes snapped to the boy's stairway. A moment later an enraged looking Ron Weasley, wand in hand, plunged down into the room.

"Who's got Scabbers?" he roared. It would have been more impressive if his voice had not cracked in the middle of his screaming accusation.

Harry said nothing as he wanted everyone in the room to be able to say he had not provoked Ron, never even spoke to him.

Red-faced, ranting and raving, Ron spent the next minute or so, storming around the room. Until his eye suddenly fell on Hermione.

"It's YOUR fault," the redhead screamed. "That damned cat of yours probably ate him! I've seen how he looks at my pet! He hates him and now he ate him!"

Harry gave her a quick smile, and a head tilt towards Ron when she threw a glance at him. She looked puzzled for a moment, then as he used his forefinger to make the wand movement for Slugulus Eructo.

Suddenly, she was on her feet, facing the enraged idiot, wand in hand. "Ronald Weasley, that is an absurd accusation. How could Crookshanks, break into the second years boy's dorm, unlock the cage and eat your mangy rat, leaving no blood or entrails around?"

In her best snooty, know-it-all-voice she kept right on talking. "You probably just forgot to lock his cage and the poor hungry beast went looking for some food. One of the owls probably thought he was a tasty snack."

Screaming, red faced, Ron pointed his wand at Hermione and screamed the incantation for the Stinging Hex. The blindingly enraged boy was waving his wand around so wildly that the girl did not even deign to duck out of the way and all watched as the spell sailed four feet over her head.

Hermione looked as though she was on the dueling stage as she centered her wand on the redhaired, red-faced git, and . . .

"Slugulus Eructo."

The yellow-green hose spray spell caught him square in the chest. All rage left the boy immediately as he bent over, heaved a giant yellow slug up out of his mouth onto the floor, and then collapsed sitting on the floor.

The reaction around the room was immediate. Many students were looking at Ron with horror and disgust. A few were laughing hard at the poor(?) boy who's anger was warring with his inability to do anything except sit there and vomit slugs onto the floor.

Finally, Percy took pity on his youngest brother and conjured a bucket for Ron to puke the slugs into and then Vanished the mess on the floor.

Harry in the meantime had hurried over to Hermione who was alternating looking intensely satisfied and horror-struck at what she had done to Ron. He had been a friend who had shared adventure, danger and sacrifice with them last year.

Gathering his best friend into a hug, Harry was surprised as she burrowed into his chest and started sobbing. Harry looked over at Percy, who was standing next to Ron and casting some air freshening charm around the bucket. Whatever Ron was doing, it stunk.

As Harry kept looking at Percy, the prefect looked back. Harry shifted his look to the wall and then brought his pissed off look back to Percy. The prefect looked where Harry had and now focused on the hand-sized hole in the tapestry and the scorched and chipped stone wall behind Hermione where Ron's hex had hit. Apparently Ron's intent had been very strong. If that spell had hit anybody, there would have been damage enough to visit the infirmary.

Just then, Professor McGonagall swept into the room from another door that Harry had never seen open before. As everyone else cowered beneath her harsh, threatening eyes as they swept the room, Percy told a straight forward accounting of the incident.

The angry and upset Head of House took special care during her examination of the spell damage to the wall before telling Percy to take his brother to Madame Pomfrey in the infirmary.

The pair watched as Percy helped his bucket cradling brother up from the floor and out past the portrait.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, follow me."

Thay followed their Head of House out through the same door she had appeared through, down a very short passageway and into an office that had the definable air of not being used.

"Sit," the older witch said as she pointed to a pair of dark brown wooden chairs with red padded seats.

Giving the two youngsters her best intimidating glare, she said, "Is there something about this incident you want to tell me about?"

With a shared glance, Harry let Hermione take the lead.

"No, Professor. We had just settled down, and Harry had remarked he had a few minutes before he had to change to see the Headmaster. Suddenly Ron comes down the steps from his dorm, cursing up a storm, and starts accusing everyone of stealing his rat."

Harry picked up the thread of the conversation. "I have no idea, I mean, why someone would steal a rat? Particularly an old lazy rat that rarely did anything except sleep. And now with Ron forgetting to feed his pet, (Harry had some bile back up in his throat from that statement,) neglecting to clean Scabbers' cage and bluntly being an all-around ar … ah, er, being very unfriendly with everyone, why would anyone think he's attached to an eleven-year-old, mangy rat?"

"I confess that I'm disappointed as why didn't you and your friends didn't feed this rat, help out your dorm mate," McGonagall asked back.

"Because he would have reacted the same way he did today," Harry shot back, and settled back in his seat. His body language screaming that he was tired and angry at her questioning.

"Are we done, Professor McGonagall? I still need to prepare for my meeting with the Headmaster."

McGonagall gave them an irritated wave of dismissal and the two left.

As they crossed the common room, everyone stopped what they were doing and every eye watched them. He waited until they had some privacy near the boy's dorm steps.

Harry leaned in and spoke quietly to Hermione. "You are going to have to wait until Monday night for most of your answers. Much of this is House Potter business."

At that point he turned some puppy eyes on her and said, "Can you help me pick out an outfit in an attempt to impress, or at least make him think, about what my clothes are supposed to say to him? Something like the language of flowers except with clothes?"

Hermione gave him 'a look' and then nodded. All she said was, "Or else."

Harry quailed a touch, but then nodded back. Then he raised his voice and looked around.

"Neville, Luna, would you come with me and Hermione? I need some satra . . . sortar . . . clothes advice."

The group trooped up the steps and Harry checked that no one else was in the Second-Year boy's dorm. Opening his trunk to his wardrobe section he started showing the others his assortment of robes. The two Purebloods took his having an expanding, multi-compartment trunk in stride.

Hermione had to curb her instant want to find out more about his trunk. What features did he have that Mr. Wettlesgate, the trunk maker, had showed her during her first visit with Harry to Diagon Alley?

It only took about ten minutes for Harry to be dressed in an open very dark blue robe with silver highlights over black slacks, black shirt, mirror polished black shoes and a crimson tie.

Neville nodded his agreement, Luna said he looked 'quite bold,' and Hermione had to force herself to stop staring at him.

A tap on his left chest with his holly wand and the Potter crest appeared. A deep breath, and dignified Lord Potter appeared in place of Harry Potter, student.

Hermione made an instant decision. "Harry, we'll walk you to the Professor Dumbledore's office." "And I get to see if he knows where it's at."

Seeing his other two friends agree, he choked up a bit inside. He hoped this was part of having true friends. They were willing to take time and effort out of their day just to give him support that he badly needed.

Another ten minutes had them arriving at a statue of a gryphon (2) on the second floor. They barely had time to look around when Professor McGonagall strode up to them.

She gave Harry a particularly sharp look before turning one of her patented stern glares on the rest of the group. "This meeting is for Mr. P . . . Lord Potter only. You three cannot come with him."

"We know, Professor. We're here to offer him our support."

"For what? Lord Potter is not in any trouble," came the swift comeback.

None of the three said a word, but none of them quailed before the indomitable witch, and matched her stare for stare.

With a huff, she turned towards the gryphon statue. "Cadbury Caramels," she said. At the words the statue moved to the side and a spiral stone staircase was revealed.

As she and Harry stood on the first stone step, the stairs started to turn, raising the two of them upwards and then depositing them on a landing in front of a large, iron strap reinforced wooden door. Harry casually reached up, ready to prepare his glasses.

The stern Professor opened the door and lead Harry into the office.

Harry saw that Fawkes was sitting on his perch eyeing him with curiosity. He nodded respectfully at the phoenix and then finally allowed his eyes to look at the Headmaster. Seeming to fiddle with his glasses, he activated the tiny, enchanted mirrors in his lenses, the ability to 'see' disillusionment spells, the clarity of any spells being cast and lastly he pushed up on his nose piece making sure his glasses would stay on his face.

"Thank you for bringing Mr. Potter, Minerva. You may go now," said the Great Albus Dumbledore, infusing his voice with gratefulness that she had flawlessly delivered Harry to the possible execution of his present personality.

Harry meanwhile, during the Headmasters dismissal of McGonagall, was looking about the room.

"Yep, there he was, the Great Greasy Bat in his usual position, perched on a stool in that shadowed corner," he thought. "I'll bet he's still mad as hell about Friday's potions class. Let's see how he reacts to this."

"If my Head of House leaves, I, Lord Potter, also demand the Head of Slytherin House absent himself also."

Dumbledore gave Harry his patented 'I'm so-o-o disappointed in you' look. "Harry m' boy, I have every confidence in Professor Snape."

"I see. The way you worded that statement would also mean you don't have confidence in your Assistant Headmistress," Harry stated.

Harry kept speaking. "Unfortunately Headmaster, Lord Potter of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, has absolutely no faith in Potions Professor and Head of Slytherin House Snape. And if he is to stay, while you dismiss Professor McGonagall, Head of House Gryffindor, then there will be no meeting. The Hogwarts Code of Staff and Student Conduct allows me to have my Head of House at any meeting with the Headmaster."

"That was practiced reply number two, which assumed The Snivellus hadn't said anything yet," thought Harry.

"Twenty points and detention, Potter! For blatant disrespect to a Professor. And another week of detentions with me for your disrespect to the Headmaster!" spat Snape viciously.

Harry looked around at the others. McGonagall looked speechless in shock. Snape glared at him with his crooked, yellowed teeth bared in the look of vicious, snarling triumph on his face. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, looking stern, yet his eyes were twinkling madly. Suddenly, the Headmaster wrenched his eyes away from Harry's and looked to be in pain.

Harry managed not to smirk as he concluded that either his now heated Lordship ring or the mirror enchantment on his glasses had worked as planned, and the Legilemency attack had reflected back on Dumbledore.

Harry turned to his Head of House and drew himself up. "Professor McGonagall, I believe we are done here. Apparently the Headmaster does not want to discuss academics with me, and I see no other reason for a meeting with him."

"But, Lord Potter, you can't just leave a meeting with the Headmaster! Why . . why that's unheard of!" she stumbled to say.

Having seen the pain Dumbledore was in, Snape exploded again. "Potter, I'll see you expelled for attacking the Headmaster! Expelled, your wand snapped, and then you'll be mine!"

"Shut it, Professor Snivellus! You're just as vile a person as my mother wrote that you had become! I have a witness, your superior, the Assistant Headmistress, that I did not even have a wand in my hand! And I am done with you."

"Response number five to The Snivellus giving me an opening to hammer him with."

In the stunned silence, Harry strode to the door and held it open. "Professor McGonagall?" he said quietly, obviously expecting her to leave with him.

As the pair rode the circular staircase down, Harry developed a case of the shakes. "I pulled it off. I actually escaped without having my memory changed (3) or letting the Twinkly Eyed Bastard rummage around in my mind."

As they reached the gryphon, with a still slightly shaking hand, Harry pulled a letter out of a robe pocket.

"Assistant Headmistress McGonagall, please make the arrangements I've requested in this letter. I refuse to spend another wasted time period with the current Hogwarts potions instructor."

Right then, the other three students who had waited for Harry in the third-floor corridor approached.

McGonagall took a quick read of the letter. Only one eyebrow rose. Apparently, the letter was not shocking enough to merit two eyebrows.

She looked at Harry and nodded slightly. "I'll leave you with your friends. I'm sure they can safely return you to your common room."

"Oh, and Lord Potter? In spite of the intense provocation, for your public disrespect of a Hogwarts professor, Gryffindor House is hereby docked five points."

And with a further sweeping look at them all, she pivoted on her heel and strode away.

"What was that all about, Harry?" Neville asked.

"Not here," Harry replied. "The walls have ears."

A/N:

Hey, I thought it was poetic to have Ron 'Eat slugs!' again. It's a spell Hermione used in her
duel against Harry with way back in Ch. 14.

One: Oooh, Hermione noticed he didn't need directions to a place he had never been first year.

Two: And I know I used the movie stairway guardian. If you want, we can argue for weeks as to whether gryphons or gargoyles are cooler guardians.

Three: Harry forgot that Erzelkendis made him immune to the Obliviate spell. His ring might also.

Second longest chapter so far. I just could not see a logical break point. I would have much rather
split this into two chapters. I really, really dislike editing chapters over 6K words.

Obviously, next we have Monday at the 'Mot.