disclaimer: UOOOOGGGGGGGHHHH SEEEEGGGGGGGGGGS
OUROBOROS
A Harry Potter and Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha crossover
Fifth Year, Part One
Family Matters
Harry Potter's summer vacation began at the exact moment when he stepped off the Knight Bus and onto the sidewalk just outside #4 Privet Drive.
Once the bus drove away, he made his way to the front door, knocked, and when his aunt and cousin were about to welcome him in, they gasped a little.
They weren't that fond of freakishness, but when they saw the look in his eyes that reminded them of soldiers coming home after the war, they quickly ushered him in, trying to make him comfortable.
"Sorry for being such a bother," he said even as his aunt Petunia poured him a cup of tea.
"Whatever you may be, or will become, you are Lily's boy. Nothing will change that," the older woman said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "It's sad that Vernon and I only realized that when the captain made us …"
"It's okay," Harry said, his voice just as thin as his aunt's. "I imagine I won't be such a burden to the three of you for much longer…"
"What are you talking about? You're family. Now relax, this is your home."
Harry had taken care of most of the tea when Dudley shyly emerged into the living room.
"Heard some of my boys tell me you'd been in a scrap or two," he said. "How did it go?"
"Spent most of it scared out of my wits," Harry replied candidly. "Wait, how'd your friends know?"
"Friends saw you getting dropped off by bus here," Dudley answered. "You looked like me coming home after a prize fight. "
Harry nodded.
"Yes, it sure does look like that," he admitted. "I mean, this last school year was a bit of a roller coaster ride for me."
"I'll bet. With a teacher like that lady who came by here last year, eh?"
Harry had to chuckle at that.
Right, Master did say I had to call her after I made it home. Maybe later.
I'll remind you of that, Boss.
Thanks, Tom.
"You're right."
As soon as Harry finished his tea, Dudley stood up.
"Want to go out to the pitch? Kick a few balls like old times?"
"Thought you'd never ask."
On the way back home, Dudley saw that the dullness in Harry's green eyes had subsided somewhat, and was thankful that what his parents told him to do worked.
Later that night, at dinner, Vernon was once again grumbling about bills, and how he'd spend another summer at the office.
"I kind of won a contest at school," Harry said. "The prize was a bit too much for me, so I think you guys should spend this summer on something fancy, I don't know…"
He put down a wad of bills on the table, shocking the Dursleys.
"Harry, no," Aunt Petunia said. "Your Uncle and I, we're doing our best to get by—"
"Do you think I'd just take that money—"
"Where'd you come into that much dosh, Harry—"
Harry sighed rather loudly, and the table fell silent. His smile was very sad when he spoke.
"Just think of it as me paying you back for all the freakishness you've had to endure from me," he said, right before he put the last forkful of food into his mouth, excused himself, stood up from his chair, and walked up to his room.
The Dursleys just sat there for a good, long while, looking at the stack of bills on the table.
Harry Potter woke up to someone nudging him awake.
His eyes opened to see his cousin shaking him.
It would have been rather rough had he not been kept in shape by the Witch.
"Ugh," he said as he pulled himself up, "sun's not out yet, Dudley— what's that for?"
"Mom and Dad want to talk to you downstairs," Dudley said solemnly, right before he stepped out of Harry's room.
Harry could hear the sound of footfalls down the stairs as he got out of bed and threw on a shirt, following his cousin into the living room.
When he got there, he saw the Dursleys giving him rather awkward looks.
His aunt gave his uncle an elbow to the side, and Vernon spoke up after a sigh.
"B—er, Harry," he began, "we're really grateful for this, but…"
"Don't chicken out now, Vernon," his aunt said under her breath.
"…fine. All right, Harry. You know we don't like freakish things in this house… but that doesn't mean you're not welcome here. You're family now… I just thought about where all that money would come from, and how I'd never get that much, no matter how hard I work…"
Harry let out a bewildered chuckle before he replied.
"Guys, it's a gift. Don't think too much about it. But really," Harry continued, "thanks for doing your best to put up with me. Also, do with the money what you will: save it, spend it, whatever. But I really want you guys to go on some sort of vacation, like a cruise ship."
"Really?" the Dursleys asked in unison.
Harry nodded.
This time it was his aunt who stepped up.
"I'm saving a large chunk of this for Dudley's college fund," she said imperiously, "and for our pensions, too. We can start worrying about cruise ships and vacations after that."
As it turned out, there was more than enough left for a fancy cruise Vernon and Petunia had been aiming for. In Dudley's case, he waited until his parents had gone, Vernon to work and Petunia to the bank – to tell Harry about what he had in mind.
"I want a copy of Chrono Trigger," Dudley had said secretly, and Harry couldn't help but laugh.
"Sure."
Unfortunately, the cruise was set a few days just after Harry's return, so Dudley never got that far in playing the game before the Dursleys went on their summer cruise ship vacation extravaganza.
They left in the morning, so by the time lunch arrived, Harry was all alone at #4 Privet Drive, finished with his morning workouts, and wondering if simulations and some advanced study would be the only things he'd be left doing for the rest of the day.
The screech of Hedwig changed that, and when he read the message, it was something rather interesting.
Inheritance
Half an hour after receiving the message, Harry heard the telltale pop of the Knight Bus arriving outside their door, and from it emerged his godfather, Sirius Black.
"Not at Mid right now?" Harry asked as soon as he opened the door. "Also… tea and sconces?"
"Sure," Sirius said. "Got here in a hurry, there were some… complications that happened when I signed off my assets to you. Will explain over snacks."
Not long after that, the two of them caught a cab ("has to be Muggle transportation," Sirius insisted) and after a ride to London, get dropped off at what looked like an empty space between two buildings.
"Welcome to Number 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry," Sirius announced, breaking the illusion. "Safest place to be in Wizarding Britain. Even the bombs changed direction when they were dropping here, so said Grandfather."
Harry laughed.
"Come on in," Harry's godfather continued. "We'll get these complications straightened out once we get you settled in."
The place looked like a total fixer-upper to Harry, and when he reached the shrieking portrait…
"Oh, that's just my mother," Sirius said over the screams, and right when she said something about the dirty halfblood, the portrait was staring down the business end of a powered-up Ouroboros.
"I own this place now," Harry declared, "so unless you want to know what a slow death by muggle paint remover feels like, you will hold your tongue."
Silence followed, and on the way to the main wing of the house, Sirius let out a low whistle.
"Almost thought you'd actually blast my mother's old portrait into next week," he said with a smile. "That killing intent of yours is something else."
"Just one of many things the Witch taught me," Harry said, returning the smile as they entered the main wing of 12 Grimmauld Place, only to see an assemblage of witches and wizards doing various things.
"What is Potter doing here, Black?" one of them – Severus Snape – asked.
"I said I'd leave everything behind to start a new life elsewhere, right?" Sirius replied. "Well, everything means the house, too. Meet the owner of 12 Grimmauld Place: Harry Potter."
Chaos erupted, Sirius smiled at a prank gone horribly right, and Harry just shrugged – he had long since been used to the Witch of Dun Scaith doing such things.
The Dementors hovered over #4 Privet Drive, but found it empty.
Frustrated at the loss of their quarry, they returned to Azkaban.
The wizard assigned to watch over the house rushed to report his findings to his superior officer.
Accidental Magic
Once the brouhaha was over and introductions were made, Harry learned that Sirius was part of this group aimed to stop Voldemort and his servants the Death Eaters.
When they revealed the head of the group to be Albus Dumbledore himself, Harry just nodded.
It wasn't often that the Order ran into someone who wasn't bedazzled by the famous wizard, but there they were, seeing Harry "the Boy-Who-Lived" Potter dealing with Headmaster Dumbledore in a very formal and businesslike demeanor.
"Well," Snape thought aloud, "he owns the place now, so Dumbledore has to deal with him the way a leaser does a landlord."
How very Slytherin of him, he thought.
"…well, any plans I have with the property aside from the requisite maintenance will have to be put on the back burner, at least until this Voldemort matter is settled," Harry said. "Which is why maintenance aside, nothing changes with your arrangement with my godfather."
He smiled.
"Feel free to use this place as headquarters, Professor, then."
"Blood traitors, all of you!" an old woman's yell came from the usual part of the house.
"Shut up or I'm going to wash your mouth out with lye!" Harry yelled back before turning to the headmaster. "Sorry about that, Professor."
"It's all right, Harry. Some are just set in their ways."
"Don't I know it. Anyway, I might need some help to get this fixer-upper taken care of. Given its secrecy, we're going to have to DIY everything, whether by magic or muggle methods. Only thing I'll ask is for some extra hands to help out when that time comes. Will that be a problem, Professor?"
"No, I don't think it will be, Harry. And thank you for being so understanding."
"Well, my Uncle Gil tells me to be as helpful as I can to others, where I can. It's no big deal, Professor."
They shook hands, and the deal was closed then and there.
After being introduced to the Order members (and having to hear Ouroboros' chuckling when he got introduced to Nymphadora Tonks), Harry was led to another wing in the house, where he ran into some other familiar faces.
"Blimey, it's Harry Potter!" Ronald and Ginny Weasley said at the same time as the door to the large room opened. Within, reading books and playing wizarding chess were Harry's other schoolmates: Fred and George Weasley, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom.
"Yes, it's Harry Potter," Harry said lamely, but stopped short when after a few moments, something sparkled in Hermione's eyes.
She put down the book she was reading on the table, stood up, made her way towards Harry, and started to size him up closely.
"Slick back your hair?" she more commanded than asked, and Ouroboros had to laugh.
Looks like the jig is up.
Pretty sure the faculty at Hogwarts knows about this, but doesn't care.
Anyway, you do remember another one of those things the Witch taught us?
Yeah, you never say no to a beautiful woman.
With an uncharacteristic smirk, Harry put a hand to his head, and slicked back his hair in one smooth motion.
"Yep, I knew it," Hermione said with a triumphant grin. "Harry Potter does study at Hogwarts; he just goes by an alias."
"Fat lot of good it did me, trying to keep me from publicity," Harry groused even as everyone else was trying to pick up their jaws from the floor from seeing the Triwizard champion in the flesh.
"Say, did we ever thank you for helping fund our emporium?" the Weasley twins asked once they got over being starstruck, and Harry just shrugged.
"I was… advised that I'd need a tax haven with what I won from the tournament… but really, I'm just grateful you guys helped me out back in third year without thinking of pulling something on me," Harry replied. "Anyway, I got the gist of why everyone is here. What's going on right now, though?"
"Rumors," Hermione replied. "Nothing but rumors of Voldemort's return. Very little Death Eater activity; all we do here is train and work on Defense, build up on what Professor Pennyworth taught before she left."
Harry nodded.
"That's a good starting point," he agreed. "Wait, you said everyone?"
"Yep," Ron replied. "When we're not looking for leads or looking into the Minister thinking that Professor Dumbledore is trying to take his job, that's what everyone here is doing: staying fit."
"Speaking of which," Neville observed, "you seemed to transform when you pulled back your hair."
"I did?" Harry asked, a mix of surprise and delight in his voice.
"Must be some sort of accidental magic," Hermione theorized. "Even the way you wear your glasses are different when you're Graham than when you're Potter."
"That's good to know. So, Neville," Harry asked, "I already know why the Weasleys are here; Granger's here for the study I helped her make, what about you?"
"Well," Neville replied, "I'm just here to pass on messages between Gran and Professor Dumbledore. The whole Ministry business started even before the Triwizard finals, and it's just getting tiresome at this point."
"What Minister business is that?" Harry asked, surprised. "Is he trying to regain confidence in his leadership after that Crouch fiasco?"
"It's a little bit more complicated than that, my boy," Albus Dumbledore replied as he made his way into the room as well. "I come bearing perilous tidings: your home was assailed by Dementors shortly after you left. Nobody was there, but my man saw them and hurried back here to inform me."
Harry slowly felt his blood chill into ice.
"What… why, Professor?"
"That I do not know," the headmaster answered. "But it is perhaps best that you spend your vacation here, for now."
There didn't seem to be any way out of it, so Harry just closed his eyes and let out a sigh.
"Yes, perhaps it has to be that way."
As it turned out, living with the Order wasn't that bad: the Weasley siblings were fun to be around, Hermione was still the academically-inclined busybody, Neville had been improving ever since his showcase in the school's in-house dueling tournament, but Harry found himself engaging with the actual Order members more than the junior ones.
He also found out that the Ministry and the Daily Prophet was still searching for Harry Potter; apparently, they had concocted this fabulous conspiracy theory that Albus Dumbledore was training the Boy-Who-Lived in secret to be a weapon against former Death Eaters, and eventually the Ministry.
When Harry read that editorial written by one Dolores Umbridge, he fell into a laughing fit so hard the Weasleys were accused of dosing his tea.
Even then, if they weren't in training, Harry did put some of the Order members to help clean up 12 Grimmauld Place, much to Sirius' delight. He did, however, warn Harry of the rooms in the house that were not to be touched; those were the responsibility of the house elf Kreacher.
Harry never trod on the house elf's responsibilities and made sure the Order respected that, but when Kreacher attempted to steal one of the belongings of Harry's guests, one Phase Bolt drew the line.
Thus, two months passed, Harry saw off his godfather to his possible migration to Midchilda, and Harry soon saw himself back on the train towards Hogwarts.
However, the train ride and his arrival brought upon dark tidings for his fifth year there…
The Black Sheep
Harry spent the train ride remembering what his godfather Sirius said before he departed for Midchilda.
"Let them think I retired to some island in the Pacific, shagging tropical women and draining daiquiris. It's going to be my final prank, having those bunch of idiots running all over themselves trying to figure out where I vanished to."
"What about your friends?"
"Remus still has his Order business," Sirius answered. "Already told him he could get his little furry problem fixed permanently at Mid, but he wanted to stick around and help out. Well, I told him that if he ever wanted out, he should contact you."
"Fair enough."
And instead of the Hufflepuffs, he found himself on the train compartment with the junior members of the Order: Ron, Hermione, Neville, and a waif named Luna Lovegood.
That had been the most interesting part of the train ride, as upon meeting him, Luna immediately asked to see Ouroboros.
"Ah," she said upon giving the Device a piercing look. "I wish my mother was still here to see this, would have answered most of her questions."
And then she returned Ouroboros, her eyes becoming languid once more.
Who's her mother again?
I think we need to look it up.
The idea was tabled, as Hogwarts loomed in the distance, and the train signaled the end of the long trip.
Even before the welcoming feast and Sorting, Harry already knew something terrible would happen, and no, it wasn't a bad feeling or another Star Wars reference Tom liked to bring up.
It began when he tried to find a seat at the Hufflepuff table, only to find it fully occupied. He turned to try and find a seat elsewhere… and after some time, a House Elf pulled a chair over for him to sit on.
Harry sighed as the sorting and welcoming feast came and went, and was briefly surprised when the Sorting Hat said something about how sorting into houses bred resentment, and was one challenge Hogwarts students should overcome in the upcoming days.
Of course, nearly everyone paid that no mind, as they were too busy waiting for the feast to begin.
Small consolation to the fact that there were Ministry observers here was that they got Alastor Moody to teach Defense for this year… at least for the shitstorm Harry knew would be coming, his favorite subject in Hogwarts would thankfully not be one of them.
The Headmaster of Hogwarts was troubled, as one of his students was now waiting in the empty classroom beside the one the Witch of Dun Scaith used during her stay last year, apparently locked out of his own House for some reason or another.
"Lopsy says she had to get you a seat just for you to take part in the sorting and welcoming feast, then, you barely avoided a vinegar bath when you tried to enter your house's common room…" Albus Dumbledore said. "I dare say, your start for this year for your house has been quite the comedy of errors, Harry."
"It's like they still think I'm with Dun Scaith, not Hufflepuff House," Harry concurred with a sigh.
"I'll look into it. For now, you can have your apprentice quarters back, until I straighten this matter out."
Harry smiled.
"Thanks for that, Professor."
Maybe it was due to the magic in Hogwarts or something, but when Harry returned to the apprentice's quarters given to him as a representative of Dun Scaith, he fell asleep with a smile on his face, and woke up with traces of a few tears on his cheeks.
Would it be best if I ask Master what to do in this situation?
I don't think so. Just ask how her day has been. Prove that we do not have to hang onto her every word for every situation.
Harry sighed again.
You're right, Tom.
After that, it was time to face the school day.
Ostracized
Unfortunately, it proved to be a very long several weeks before anything could be done about Harry's place in Hufflepuff House.
Even worse, nobody from Hufflepuff even bothered to hear out Harry, as to why he was both picked up as a Triwizard contestant, and why his exploits overshadowed Cedric Diggory's.
It's got to be that. Imagine throwing your entire weight of support behind someone like him, only for the dark horse to come in and win the championship.
…but I'm also from Hufflepuff House.
No, in this case, you were picked by the Witch of Dun Scaith, so that is where you are… at least that's what Hufflepuff House thinks.
You think all of them are some sort of hive mind or something?
It's possible. Maybe some of them there do have dissenting opinions, but can't go against the majority.
In a house like Hufflepuff? We've already seen the signs, Tom. This is some Children of the Corn-type shit.
When you're starting to make horror movie references, even I get a bit disturbed. Why haven't we gone to Professor Sprout yet, anyway?
Because there's the very real risk that she's the one behind the entirety of Hufflepuff House turning their back on me?
Fair enough.
It was times like this that Harry was thankful that he had a Device to bounce ideas off of; if not, he was sure that he would have broken a long time ago. However, he was already near the end of his rope – thankfully, a development came that would allow him some sort of socialization in school.
After the infamous "Malfoy the Bouncing Ferret" incident, the movers and shakers at the Ministry deemed it sufficient cause to promote Dolores Umbridge from a mere observer to an Inquisitor of Hogwarts.
Naturally, Umbridge appointed helpers from within the student body to catch those who would go against their sanitized vision of education.
Funnily enough, this was the opportunity Draco Malfoy seized upon, because the day after that ruling became effective, Harry found the newest members of that squad walking alongside him on the way to the first bunch of classes of the day.
"Draco, his… young men Friday, and… your name's on the tip of my tongue… Ah yes, Viola Wittrockiana."
"My name is Pansy!"
Draco, Crabbe and Goyle had to resist the urge to laugh, as they had just been to Herbology classes earlier.
"Would Ms. Parkinson be a better form of address instead, Viola?" Harry asked.
"It's fine. Draco, do what you came here for."
The Slytherin prefect stepped up and offered him a letter of invitation to the Hogwarts inquisitorial squad.
"I'm the only one not in Slytherin you offered this to."
"And you're the only student here without a house, or a part of a house of one member. Dun Scaith, right?"
Harry gave him a grudging nod.
"Well, we're here to ensure the Inquisitor's educational decrees are enforced, and are thus given broad executionary powers to do that as junior inquisitors."
"Inquisitors, huh…?" Harry asked, and a sly spark was in his eye.
"So… tell me, what reason do you have to offer to be one of my junior inquisitors?" Umbridge asked Harry.
Harry decided to go with his and Tom's ridiculous idea.
"I know for a fact that Tom Marvolo Riddle is not, and will not be for the foreseeable future, a threat to the Wizarding World, British or otherwise," he said with the straightest of faces.
Umbridge glowed at that statement, and deep inside, Harry and Tom gave evil grins.
Hook, line and sinker.
Can't believe it was that easy.
Now, it's time for the next phase of the plan.
Yep.
Once Harry got his inquisitor's badge, there were two people he contacted via fire-call: the first was that Order witch with the ridiculous name, asking her whether Hufflepuff House was a hive mind.
The second person he called was Lucius Malfoy.
"Ah yes, Mister Graham," the man said. "I heard about your… academic troubles, and nudged my son in the direction where he might be able to assist you."
"Thank you for that," Harry replied. "I'm trying to minimize the damage Umbridge is doing to the school and the ties between its members and the Ministry. Her decrees were growing more and more outlandish even before she became Inquisitor. What's going on?"
"Fudge is paranoid," Lucius replied. "He thinks Dumbledore will unseat him as Minister, and as such had his bootlicker take a metaphorical hammer to as much as possible. Dumbledore shouldn't have let any Ministry officials onto school grounds, but here we are."
"Weren't you one of Fudge's advisers?"
"Not anymore. There's a lot of confusion and unrest going on outside Hogwarts right now, rumors of the Dark Lord resurfacing in different places, traces of his dark presence in several cursed locations… there simply isn't any time for petty concerns, like what Fudge and his staff are trying to prove."
"So… the Dark Lord hasn't truly surfaced?"
"Not to our knowledge. Everything so far has been hearsay. The only reason nobody has sent Umbridge packing…"
"…is because of what Professor Dumbledore said at the leaving festival back in June…" Harry finished. "I'll keep an eye out on Draco. Will make sure he and his posse don't start something they can't finish."
"I thank you for that, Mr. Graham."
The fire call ended, and Harry let out a breath.
If it's only hearsay that Voldemort is back, why do I feel that he's returned, and even stronger than before?
Because he never made a public return, Tom explained. That way, he can stay in the shadows, cultivate fear in the people, and when that has reached a fever pitch, he makes his appearance.
Straight out of the pages of "Habits of Effective Dark Lords".
Exactly. So… what's this idea of yours to neuter Umbridge? Last I heard, she was going to aim for Hagrid's position.
I don't think Umbridge quite understands that Hagrid's position both as gamekeeper and professor are ironclad right now. It doesn't matter how good he teaches, he's secure. Umbridge is going to have to burn a lot of her political capital if she goes after the big lug.
How so… wait a minute. You're talking about what happened last year… and what's happening right now.
Yep. Put up another point on the scoreboard for Lady Scathach.
Expect The Unexpected
"So… this is a taboo spell, right?" Draco asked as Harry was preparing a spell array in an unused classroom.
"Yes and no. It's a taboo that immediately alerts us to a particular word, and it also momentarily transfigures our outfits to fit our… appearance."
"Is this going to help our tasks as inquisitors?"
Harry smiled.
"Yes. It's going to make our work much, much easier."
"Can't believe we're still doing detentions even in seventh year," Fred Weasley began.
"And for simply asking Professor Moody for further reading than the Ministry-approved Defense text," George Weasley continued. "It's like an inquisition or something."
BOOM
In a puff of smoke, three students loomed before the Weasley twins, wearing Hogwarts robes with brown accessories, the medal and emblem of the Inquisitorial Squad placed clearly on it.
"NOBODY EXPECTS THE HOGWARTS INQUISITION!" bellowed the new arrivals, leaving the Weasley twins gobsmacked at the sight.
Taking the lead was a spiky-haired Hufflepuff with goggles instead of glasses.
"Our chief weapon is surprise, surprise and fear; wait, that's two… our chief weapons are surprise, fear, and ruthless inefficiency… that's three! Our weapons are surprise, fear, ruthless efficiency and near fanatical devotion to Dolores Umbridge! …wait, we should have rehearsed this more properly."
"Is this some kind of joke, Brother Graham?"
"It is not, Brother Malfoy! We are here to inquisit and to root out heretics! Aren't we, Sister Wittrockiana?"
The lone female in the trio deflated before nodding.
"Dammit, retreat! We shall return once we have perfected this entrance, heretics!"
And in another puff of smoke, they were gone.
"Do you know what just happened, Gred?" Forge asked.
"Bugger if I know, Forge," Gred replied.
In between those, Harry was teaching the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad the basics on how to be cool.
"There's a thing called a 'power walk'," Harry began. "We don't just walk together in the halls of Hogwarts. We swagger confidently. It's all about posture. Confidence and attitude can make up for… facial features, or looking ordinary. Yes, Miss Parkinson?"
"Is this relevant to our work as Inquisitors?"
"Of course. Because nobody expects us."
Even funnier is that Tom was the only other one who got the joke when he used his functions as a Device to watch that particular episode.
Inquisitorial Work
At the unused classroom next to the "Apprentice's Quarters" Harry had been using since his fourth year, a meeting was going on.
Namely, Harry and the other inquisitors were given new orders by Umbridge: there was a group of subversive students teaching defense without her approval, and it was the inquisitors' job to ferret out the members and ringleader.
Nobody laughed at the wording, least of all Malfoy.
Everyone else was grinning, though.
"So, now that we've done our comedic routine and have convinced the student body that we're harmless, how do we get this done and not get on Umbridge's bad side?" Draco asked.
Harry chuckled.
"Aren't you guys Slytherin? You should have the savvy to be able to figure out how to follow a job on paper while doing the opposite in spirit. Besides, I already know who the ringleaders are. I can tell them to stand down for now, take their meetings elsewhere, or reschedule. They have a mole in their ranks; it's the only way this info got to Umbridge."
"It didn't go through us, though."
"That's what worries me," Harry thought aloud. "I think some detective work is in the offing. You got the family tree diagrams? I've got a soft copy of the membership here; we can cross-check if needed."
"Here," Draco said, bringing out a parchment. "When I told Father you would need it, he took very little time in getting a copy out. Heck, he thinks you would have made good in Slytherin."
Harry shook his head.
"Not really. When shit hits the fan, I'm usually the first one there to help. Not very Slytherin of me."
A few hours and some butterbeers later courtesy of the house elves, Harry found it.
"There's your mole. Edgecombe," he declared, pointing at a name in the family trees.
"How would she... her buddy Cho is really close with that Gryffindor golden trio..."
Harry shook his head.
"You know your mundane history, Draco? Emperor Domitian's public appearances often came with him beside an ugly dwarf, so he'd look taller and more handsome in comparison," Harry explained. "I think this is Edgecombe realizing she doesn't want to be the ugly dwarf anymore."
Many laughs came around the table.
"Well, you can't change your face..."
"That's what cosmetic spells and polyjuice is for," Harry explained. "But now that I have the mole, I'm going to make sure all the intelligence she gives Umbridge is faulty."
"How are you going to do that?"
"Let's just say I have connections," Harry replied enigmatically. "We stay the course for now."
Hogsmeade
Harry didn't realize it, but all the inquisitorial work and academics began to pile up on him, and he was looking forward to the Hogsmeade visit.
When the inquisitorial squad asked him about it, he just answered that he liked to spend time alone and think, and that while they should enjoy the weekend, they should still be on alert.
"...if you do, I won't tell your father about the time I saw you and Viola holding hands down the hallway," Harry concluded, and both mage and Device stifled laughter at seeing their two fellow inquisitors immediately break apart, faces quickly turning red. "Have a good time."
Hogsmeade was mostly the same as the last time he'd been there, and he did spend some time going to the Weasleys, asking them about how the construction of their shop was going.
It was a good investment of part of his Triwizard winnings (and also tax-deductible, who knew), so Harry found himself satisfied that at least in some respects, things were going as planned.
What he didn't expect was the eldest of the Weasleys walking up to him and offering to treat him to lunch.
"How's Egypt?" Harry asked.
"Dry," Bill replied with a grin. "Makes me wish I was back to the same old gloomy weather, since I'll be back there at the end of the year. Hopefully we get the pyramid all cleaned out before the official opening of the second Gringotts branch in Diagon."
That was a new development.
"Second Gringotts branch?"
"You didn't hear? The goblins have been going through some trouble with safe management, they've already soft opened a second branch across of Tom's diner."
"Wouldn't that breach the statute?"
"Absolutely not. It's another one of those 'integrating Muggleborns into the system' infrastructure things; the Goblins still handle the bigger transactions, but you won't see any of them in the front. Speaking of which... I'm sure you know who my latest coworker is... and why she's working very hard on her English."
Someone working on her English...
You KNOW who this is, Harry.
"Fleur?"
"Got it in one," Bill said, raising his glass. "Man, I only ran into you once or twice at HQ, but seeing you now... no wonder you own a lot of prime real estate in her heart."
Harry's jaw almost hit the floor.
Real estate? What does he mean?
It means Fleur has it bad for you... and he has it bad for Fleur.
I don't get it.
I'll tell you when we get back to Hogwarts. Just let me guide you in the conversation...
"Er... thanks. Sorry that I don't know that many foreign witches... or other Hogwarts upperclassmen, if that counts for anything..."
"No, don't be," Bill said, momentarily surprised at Harry's gesture. "Just wanted to take your measure for myself personally; was wondering why you were all Fleur talked about during our date."
Harry closed his eyes; his Device was laughing out loud.
"Well," Harry thought aloud, "if I've indirectly inconvenienced you so... my folks owe me a vacation after I burned most of it playing landlord. Maybe I could take you along, I heard it was going to be a veela colony at Monaco."
"Really. Thanks for the gesture. You don't have to."
The rest of their lunch went by in relative peace, and when Bill left, Harry found himself asking his Device all of the questions on the walk back to Hogwarts.
What did Bill Weasley mean by that? By all accounts, he's got a better thing going than I do. Cursebreaker, academic achievement, quidditch...
Ah, but he did not win the Triwizard like you have.
I still don't get it.
Plus, Bill didn't have TSAB contacts... if it wasn't for them, Fleur would be in a spot worse than death. So… I think it's both your achievements... and that she owes you. Finally, since she doesn't have anything that she thinks she can pay you with...
...she'll pay me back with the pleasure of her company?
Something like that, yes.
I still don't get it.
Same here. Humans are confusing at times.
You were human once, too.
The point still stands.
The next planned educational decree by Umbridge was about the use of Ministry-approved educational materials in practical classes, and when Harry and Draco read it, they knew their running interference was starting to bear fruit.
Slytherin Spirit
Because of Harry's status within his own House as some sort of scapegoat, it was decided by the professors to have him attend classes with the Gryffindors and Slytherins (unlike almost every other time, Dolores Umbridge absolutely preened at the possibility, since she had her best Inquisitor interacting with possibly the ringleaders of that 'Defense club').
While in Defense, Harry could sense Professor Moody's frustration over having to teach from the textbook.
What kind of professor allows students to trade notes and answer quizzes straight from the book? Tom asked in between chuckles.
The one who has completely run out of fucks to give, Harry replied with a chuckle of his own. Well, we're way ahead in the 'curriculum' or whatever that moron Umbridge had in mind. Professor or not, you'd be frustrated too.
Fair point.
The dam broke when Harry had an idea... but Neville Longbottom beat him to it.
"Professor, since we've all done the exercises in the textbook, do you have any stories to share with us?"
Well, well, well.
Looks like all that time in the Dueling Club worked wonders for his confidence.
The year the Witch came in, he looked like a ball of bread dough.
Now? He looks carved out of stone.
That's not the other thing worth looking at. Check this out.
Harry nodded as the grizzled veteran began to draw upon his store of experiences hunting down Dark wizards. The Slytherins in the classroom seemed affronted when he was describing the Dark wizards he'd battled and captured back then, but knew to be quiet - they didn't want a repeat of the Floating Ferret Incident.
He saw Malfoy listening without a care to the professor's story, but in a few moments, his eyes lit up and he started listening intently.
"You see what Professor Moody's doing?"
"He... he's teaching us... without teaching us. Just telling stories," Draco admitted.
"Do you think we're going to take this to Umbridge?"
"No... he's just going to say he's telling old war stories to the students as a way to pass the time," Draco answered. "I... I can't believe it. This is brilliant. It's so very... very..."
"Very Slytherin of him?" Harry asked, and Draco nodded.
"Well, Professor Moody may be a lot of things, but a bad storyteller isn't one of them," Harry thought aloud as the class continued.
Disastrous Visions
A few nights later, something disturbing happened.
Harry, I'm getting some kind of odd transmission, Tom said just as Harry was about to wrap up the day.
What kind?
Video. It's kinda grainy and scratchy. Gonna put some cycles into editing it in real time. Hold on.
Audio?
All good. Hold up... I know that voice.
Ouroboros' HUD activated, and Harry read the audio output and who it was from.
Ah, shit. This is bad.
Better move!
Harry ran from his room in haste, trying to find a fireplace, all the while he could hear the familiar voice drone on and on.
"...imagine, an entire wing's worth of prophecies, all gone..."
"...all of them were also seer-grade, meaning..."
"...the Unspeakables will sort it out..."
"...just a formality..."
"...have to file a report..."
The voice sounded louder and louder, and the hisses grew stronger and stronger...
Harry kicked a door open to see two seventh-year Hufflepuffs in a compromising position.
"GET OUT OF HERE, I NEED THE FIREPLACE!" he bellowed, magic augmenting his voice, and got two wands pointed at him for his trouble.
"The nerve of you coming here to..." they began, but stopped… as it wasn't a wand that he was pointing back at them.
"Mine's bigger," Harry said, his voice low and menacing to go with his already-glowing green eyes and Device.
They had barely picked up their clothes and left when Harry tossed some Floo powder at the fireplace and yelled out "Twelve Grimmauld Place!".
A familiar face poked itself from the fire.
"No time for greetings, Nymphadora. Arthur Weasley is in trouble! Get to him ASAP!"
"How did you-"
"THERE'S NO TIME, GET SOMEONE TO FIND HIM! HE'S AT THE MINISTRY, SOMEWHERE NEAR THE DEPARTMENT OF PROPHECIES OR SOMETHING!"
The fire call ended abruptly, and when he turned around, he saw Ernie MacMillan and Hannah Abbott pointing wands at him.
"Starting trouble, Graham?" Hannah asked.
"You tell me," Harry replied glibly. "Just needed to make an emergency call."
"Threatening your underclassmen, too?"
Harry chuckled evilly.
"You don't smell anything fishy here? Pretty sure the house elves didn't make anything with fish or squid this evening," he declared, and the two seventh-year 'Puffs behind the prefects at least had the decency to blush when mentioned. "Besides, I don't have any business with you... unless I absolutely have to, remember? You signed off on this."
"We're going to deduct points from you."
"Where, House Dun Scaith?"
"Or we can go to Umbridge."
"Go right ahead. It's not against the rules to make an emergency fire call," Harry said, and his eyes were again glowing green.
A moment later, the stand-off lifted.
"This isn't over," Ernie said over his shoulder as they were leaving.
"I hope it is," Harry snarked back. "I don't want to see any of you any longer than necessary."
In a huff, Harry started stomping back to the apprentice's quarters.
Well played, Harry.
Not now, Tom. I'm still pissed off at their entire Children of the Cornfield bullshit.
You did negotiate yourself without resorting to your extensive vocabulary of four-letter words gained from training with the Witch.
Inquisitors gotta inquisit.
Unbelievable. You are still angry, but you manage to come up with quality zingers all the same.
Yeah, yeah.
Harry sighed.
I guess we know where that video feed was coming from, and why it's scratchy as heck.
The holidays are coming up, which means we can get the 'why' out of the way.
I have my hunch... and I know, you also have a guess.
Indeed... it's better to get confirmation than to go in with a plan half-cocked.
You're right.
The very next day, it was another Defense lesson with the Slytherins and Gryffindors; throughout the lesson, Professor Moody was giving Harry odd stares.
When the 'exercise' was done, Harry immediately figured out why: the grizzled veteran was talking about how one needed to take swift and decisive action during an emergency, lest lives be lost.
He invited some of the students to talk about times where they needed to contact Aurors or other personnel; surprisingly, even some of the Slytherin students shared their stories (glossing over the fact that the responders were also purebloods).
Sure enough, when classes were over...
"Graham, stay behind a while," he said.
Once the rest of the students had filed out, the former Auror put a firm hand on his shoulder.
"That was a very good thing you did back there," he said. "If the Aurors and healers came a minute or two too late, we would have lost Arthur."
Harry's eyes widened.
"So..."
"That's right. It really was an attack. Also, the headmaster wants to talk to you. Sign this, hand it over to your next professor before going up to meet him."
"Thanks, Professor Moody."
He nodded, and gestured towards the classroom door.
A/N: Viola wittrockiana is the scientific name of the common pansy. And yes, Harry is going slightly mad due to his isolation from Hufflepuff House (though implied by year 3, year 4 made it clear that he has issues with abandonment). Also yes, in this story, after 7 years of Hogwarts, Pansy gains fame and fortune writing wizarding bodice rippers. Her pseudonym? Viola Wittrockiana.
Harry slicking up his hair a la Vergil is him assuming a more assertive persona (as Harold Graham). He's also subconsciously trying to make sure Clyde Harlaown isn't forgotten (yes, the guy has spiky hair, I looked it up), and this accidental magic keeps his hair slicked back, and it also makes his glasses fit more fashionably.
Also, Harry did have his own date where the girl he was with talked nonstop about someone else, so he understands what Bill's feeling.
