disclaimer: THIS WAND OF MINE IS BURNING RED
OUROBOROS
A Harry Potter / Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha crossover
Fifth Year, Part Two
Supplemental Lessons
You know, this might be the first time I've actually been summoned to the headmaster's office.
Really? Ouroboros asked, and after a moment of thought, blinked green. You're right. But you know, we've done our best to stay under the radar throughout our stay here…
…and the Triwizard just upended all that. Here we are.
Harry knocked on the door, and when bid by an unfamiliar voice to come in, entered… and marveled at the sight.
Portraits of past headmasters lined the walls, simple yet elegant décor, and the phoenix Fawkes at his perch and giving Harry's Device a stinkeye.
"So… what's your first name, buddy?" Harry asked the bird as he walked towards it. "Guy?"
The bird sputtered a bit before regaining his composure and shaking his head.
"So, it's just Fawkes, huh?"
The bird nodded, and turned to the side.
Harry followed suit to see Headmaster Dumbledore looking amused at the byplay between the student and his phoenix.
"Nice to see you made good time here, Harry," the headmaster said. "I assume your concern involves your vision from several nights ago?"
Harry shrugged.
"Well," he said after letting out a breath, "just thinking about how I can't spend the rest of my time here in anonymity any longer. The Triwizard Tournament made sure of that."
"I had you called here to personally thank you for making a difference, however small," the old wizard said. "The healers and Aurors said that it was a very precarious situation; Arthur Weasley might not have made it."
"I see," Harry thought aloud. "Lady Scathach did say that I shouldn't forsake a chance to help for the sake of maintaining my… cover, here. Now, Harold Graham is as much a celebrity as Harry Potter. It's already been quite a rough go of it so far, this year."
"I understand completely, Harry," the headmaster replied. "Still, I find it odd that you would continue here under that name rather than use your own."
"I got used to it," Harry said with a sheepish grin. "Anyway, Headmaster, about that vision, it just came to me one night while I was minding my own business."
"And then, after you made that fire call, you had a run-in with the Prefects in your House."
"That's how it went down, sir."
"Indeed, Professor Sprout has already asked me to look into this, as she herself is looking into what is keeping you away from your House."
I'll be needing more than a grain of salt on that one, Harry.
I know. We need to stay much more low-key than this, though. Dumbledore may catch you if you keep talking.
Harry blinked, felt his Device power down, and when he opened them, the headmaster was still smiling at him, though there was concern in his eyes.
"Is it another vision?"
Harry was about to shake his head, but decided to play along at the last moment.
"I think so… it's just a lot of static right now. You know, from muggle TV."
"We know what muggle TV is," another voice said from within the office, and immediately, the Potions professor loomed menacingly before taking slow steps towards him. "And you might be downplaying just how dangerous a mental link from you to the Dark Lord could possibly be."
"How do I get rid of them?"
Momentarily, Ouroboros went online.
Mixed in with all that static was a very potent intent to harm. If I had still been a physical part of you, it would have caused you a lot of pain.
"I mean… it's been giving me nightmares as of late."
Good one.
"Hmm, yes, it seems things are going as anticipated, Severus…" the headmaster thought aloud. "It seems young Harry here will need some help in clearing up his mind, to keep the Dark Lord's mental attacks at bay. And I have just the man for the job."
"You're kidding," Harry and Snape said as one.
"I do not, as a matter of fact, kid," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling as he gave his reply in a deadpan delivery. "Severus… you will have to train the boy in Occlumency."
Somehow, Harry felt a bit of empathy for the Potions professor as he heard the man let out the sigh of the long-suffering.
"It will be as you say, Headmaster," he replied, but quickly regained himself as an idea came to him. "Remedial Potions sounds good, but Harry here is a mite too good with potions for him to take that class. I also can't hijack Umbridge's detentions because he hasn't earned any – he's even one of their inquisitors!"
He turned to look at Harry with more suspicion now.
"Or maybe he's planning to go to Dolores with what he knows now, maybe use it for whatever purpose…"
"And lose my wonderful tenants? Perish the thought," Harry said with a shrug. "What Umbridge doesn't know, she doesn't ask, and whatever she asks, I don't answer – that's all. Heck, you can put that on your first occlumency lesson, Professor: find out if Harold Graham is actually working for the High Inquisitor."
Snape was about to let out a retort when the headmaster chuckled.
"He has you, Severus," Dumbeldore said, his voice tinged with mirth. "Also, don't you have the International Confederation of Potioneers event to go to next November? I distinctly remember you looking for an assistant…"
"…and we can name it 'Supplementary Potions' instead of 'Remedial'… yes, that just might work."
Harry, on the other hand, was beaming.
"Please tell me you're actually considering me to be your assistant for the ICP event."
This time, it was the Potions Professor's turn to smile.
"I won't go with anyone who OWLs less than an O."
Harry heard the answer, swallowed, and gave a grin like he was looking at one of his tournament opponents in the Triwizard.
"You drive a hard bargain, Professor Snape… but I'm in. Shake on it?"
He extended a hand, and the Potions Professor shook it.
"Excellent! We now have things all set up. However, with the winter holidays so close, and to help with preparations, best schedule this to when classes resume after New Year."
"Understood."
"Thank you very much, Headmaster."
"Please. Call me Professor Dumbledore."
Peaceful Days
The days leading toward the winter holidays were surprisingly peaceful, the incident with Arthur Weasley notwithstanding.
When the Weasleys heard of their patriarch's fate, they immediately wanted to go – but the headmaster told them that it was a potential attack by the Dark Lord, and that they had to lie low.
Harry was once more summoned before the headmaster, but this time, Professor Dumbledore asked him if the Weasleys could spend the holidays at 12 Grimmauld Place.
Oh, would you look at that. I was considering getting someone to house-sit for me, and a solution falls right into my lap, Harry thought, and agreed to the headmaster's request.
"I'm going there Boxing Day," Harry said. "Might bring a tray of my aunt's baked ziti, too… plus presents for everybody… and the stuff addressed for me that I'll pick up, too."
"Looking forward to that, Harry," the headmaster said. "I remember your aunt's cooking, even if it was decades ago…"
"She took it back up, starting when I was five. Said she would've lost her touch if it wasn't for a wake-up-call," Harry said. "May you and everyone here have happy holidays."
"We shall try to. Enjoy your time off."
Unlike before, Harry's trip back home was quiet, since the two first-year Slytherins he shared a compartment with were either too awed at him to speak, or slept on the trip back.
Several hours and a Knight Bus ride later, Harry Potter (also known as Harold Graham) finally made his return home for the holidays.
Blood on Fire
It was the day after his return that Dudley motioned him towards his room.
"Some guy in Tokyo sold me this set of VHS tapes, said it was something that just finished airing a couple months ago," Dudley began, gesturing to the pile of tapes on his desk. "Unfortunately, it's all in Japanese, so I can't watch it."
Tom. How's your translator feature?
It's up, and I've been bringing in the Japanese language options ever since your cousin said 'Tokyo'. Give me a minute or five.
Thanks.
"So… how was Japan?"
"It was really, really cool!"
Fifteen minutes later, and Dudley still wasn't done describing how awesome his three weeks there was, while the cruise ship they were on was on some sort of maintenance stopover. Harry had to catch his Device blinking to signify that yes, they now had smart subtitles for what they were about to be watching.
Later that day, when Petunia called the boys down for dinner and they didn't answer, she went up to Dudley's room to see that the both of them were blown through the back wall of the room due to the sheer amount of awesome they had just witnessed in the past three hours.
When the two had returned to Earth and were being made to take dinner, the Device told Harry a very heartening thing.
I've recorded them so you can rewatch it at Hogwarts.
Man, if you weren't a Device, I would've hugged you already.
You're welcome, Harry. Consider this my holiday present to you.
"What the heck have you two boys been watching that's gotten you crying like that?" Petunia Dursley asked as she called the two boys down to the kitchen to help with making the holiday meals.
In between sniffles, Dudley barely managed to get an answer out. "Something beautiful, mum," he just said, and Harry solemnly nodded in turn, also trying to keep a stoic face, only for the tiny trail of snot going down one of his nostrils to totally ruin the look.
"Anyway, what kind of help do you need, Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked.
"That not-so-nice boy who had been trying to get with Lily a long time ago dropped by," Petunia replied off-handedly, "said he was passing by to remind you of Boxing Day… I asked him what was going on, and he said one of his co-workers got hospitalized for something or another, didn't bother for the details."
"You boys can give me a hand here, as I'm going to make sure the Weasleys get quite the Christmas spread," she continued as she gestured to the large pot on the stove, brimming with tomato sauce. "Dudley, watch the Bolognese. Harry, get ready to make a second batch. And no sneaking bits off the parmesan!"
"That was awesome," Dudley said as they saw the last words on the screen.
SEE YOU AGAIN
AT THE 14TH TOURNAMENT
"Say, Harry. Does that green thing hear me?"
"Kind of… why?"
"Tell him… thanks… from me."
"Sure."
"You're welcome, Dudley."
He was surprised for one moment, but then caught himself as he realized that he was in no position to talk about freakishness.
After all, thanks to that freakishness, he had been able to understand one of the things that he had purchased during the cruise with his family.
The thing he watched was the really, REALLY awesome type of freakishness, too… he had somehow plateaued in his amateur boxing, but sitting through all that told him that he was due a breakthrough, if he just kept his heart clear and his hands fiery.
Holiday Memories
If there was one thing Harry learned from his aunt and uncle, it was about doing right by other people, even if you didn't like it. The realization came slowly, but when it did, he figured out that when they were made to do right by him all those years ago, the Dursleys ended up trying to do the best they could. They worked their hardest to swallow up their fear of his "freakishness", and just did what they could to treat him as 'Harry, a part of the family'.
Of course, there were times where that was strained: Uncle Vernon's budgeting troubles near the start of summer was but one of several incidents, but most of them were dealt with easily, as their family therapist lauded them for always trying to treat Harry 'on the level', and not some aberration that he thought he was.
Now, Harry was spending his first actual Christmas holiday with the Dursleys, and all things considered… it wasn't that bad. Dudley brought along some of his friends, embarrassing stories of childhood were told over food and drink, and for once, the voice in the back of Harry's mind telling him that he didn't belong there was silent.
Presents were exchanged – most of them were shirts from the Dursleys' cruise destinations, but Harry appreciated it all the same. For his aunt, Harry was able to finagle a copy of the Weasleys' family recipe book from Molly as thanks for saving the head of their family, and for his uncle, Harry got him a new briefcase for work, and a few weights for Dudley in the gym they had put together in the back yard for when he needed to lift.
And for every moment, Harry was taking picture after picture, a camera in his hand, poised to take snapshots of every moment, because he knew that the time for him to depart was closing in on them.
"Got presents!" Harry said as he opened the door to 12 Grimmauld Place, and the Weasleys welcomed him into the Order headquarters.
"Aunt Petunia made too much of her famous baked ziti. Thought she'd just make enough for ten people, but apparently, someone," and here, Harry gave Professor Snape a sly look, "added extra drama to what happened to Mr. Weasley, so she made enough for twenty. Don't worry, if there's a charm that I'm confident in, it's the food-preserving one. That aside… presents!"
Even if the mood in the house was festive, and Harry also got his fair share of presents, there was still that bit of loneliness in his eye, something he knew that the holidays would fix only temporarily.
He put that aside for the moment and just enjoyed the festivities, camera taking photos here and there for him to assemble into a collage.
"Oh, Harry!" Dudley said as he nearly ran into his cousin while going down the stairs. "Coach said I have to do my road work even in the holidays. Didn't peg you to be a light sleeper. Up for a run?"
Harry had planned on taking a jog to the store in the town center and picking something up to eat before he'd call the Witch, and with the enthusiasm on his cousin's face, he finally resigned himself to the fact that he couldn't tell his cousin 'no'.
"Lead on, then."
"Oh, I forgot," Dudley added. "You're in shape, but you're not in boxing shape, so I'm going to take it easy before I start getting serious. You okay with that?"
Harry just nodded, and once he closed the front door behind them, they were off.
After twelve minutes of what Harry James Potter's cousin called a 'comfortable run' and eighteen of the longest minutes of Harry's life, the two cousins finally stopped in front of an old-looking building with "Jerry's Gym" painted on the sign in faded colors.
"Just going to drop by and greet the boys before I head home," Dudley said. "Come on in and wait for me."
"Sure," Harry replied, and as he waited for his cousin, he started to notice the similarities between how the boxers trained, and what he had to go through under the Witch's own regimen.
It was a fascinating sight, until Harry sensed a small old man walk over to him.
"You here to box, sonny?" the old man asked, amused.
"Uh… no, sir," Harry answered politely. "I'm just waiting for my cousin."
"Ah," the old man thought aloud, "but the way you stand and look, you're a fighter, through and through. Even got the eyes… oh, where are my manners? Jerry Doyle, owner of this gym."
"Harry Potter," he replied, extending a hand.
They shook, and when Dudley emerged from one of the offices, he immediately went to the old man.
"Boss Jerry! I see you've already met my cousin."
"Yes, he's just as interesting as you said he'd be," the old man said enigmatically. "It's good to see you keeping up your training, even during the holidays. If this keeps up, once you're out of high school, there's a good possibility that you might be good enough to go pro."
"Really, boss?"
"You can be, if you work hard enough. Anyway, I have my prize fighter to put through the works – good to see you, Mr. Potter."
"Thank you, Mr. Doyle."
On the (leisurely) jog home, Dudley was grinning the whole way through.
"I knew the boss would like you," he said. "They said he was a scrapper when he was young, saw that in you."
"That's nice," Harry thought aloud. "You think you've got what it takes to turn pro?"
"I wish," Dudley admitted, "but I still have a long way to go… what's that?"
He pointed to the morning sky where some sort of black sheet was flying.
Harry quickly looked around to see that the two of them were taking the less-traveled path towards home, and looked back up.
"Dudley," Harry said, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper, "run on ahead. This… this is trouble."
Dudley knew enough already that if Harry's chickens came home to roost, they'd have to be ready, so he just nodded, and began to sprint back.
The black sheet started to turn towards the running boy, but a flash of green light stopped it short.
"I don't think so," Harry replied, his voice sinister as he pointed an already glowing-with-power Ouroboros at the dementor. "Going after my family was the last mistake you made."
Dudley was about several hundred meters short of home when Harry caught up with him.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked as he jogged up towards his cousin.
"T-t-that's supposed to be my question, Harry!" Dudley gasped out; he had been running nonstop ever since Harry had told him to rush home. "What was that thing?"
"Bad news," Harry replied. "We should head home and tell your mom and dad… now."
Sure enough, upon their arrival, the aurors were already there: apparently, another of those dementors had strayed too close to Privet Drive. Apparently, someone in the know was watching long enough to notify the magical authorities.
One of them, someone who looked like Auror work was all about filing paperwork and polishing seats with his bum, swaggered up to Harry and Dudley even as they were about to walk into their front yard.
"Say! You wouldn't have seen some sort of… aberration here now, have you?" he asked in a smarmy voice, and Harry just groaned.
Dudley chuckled a bit, the humor coming at an odd time because of the scare that just happened.
"Not really, but something happened on the road back – another dementor."
"Another… wait, you're that attention-grabbing Boy Who Lived. You trying to pull something on me, boy?" the auror asked, and immediately stepped back when a black cloth was nearly flung at his face.
"Does this look like a lack of attention to you, sir?" Harry asked, and the auror quickly backed up, grabbing the cloth for evidence before returning to his squad.
"Wanker," Harry muttered under his breath, and Dudley just laughed. "Good thing very few people were out this morning; they'd have to bring in obliviators if this happened at any other time."
"Obliviators?"
"They take out your memory. When my Master dropped by Privet Drive, she also made sure you and your folks would be exempt from the spell – come on, let's see how your mom and dad are doing."
Thankfully, they were unaware of what was happening outside, and made a late breakfast for both young men.
The Call
Later that day, while Dudley went to a friend's house to continue his brand of holiday festivities, Harry was at his room and was just about to give the Witch of Dun Scaith a call via his Device.
The call connected, and Harry had to wonder who kept replacing his head with a tomato, because the Witch was apparently fond of diaphanous gowns when she wasn't wearing her skintight combat outfits.
And these gowns were scandalously close to revealing details that Harry never thought he'd be ready for.
"Master," Harry said, trying his hardest to focus on the space between the Witch's eyes. "It is good to see you again."
"Indeed, my apprentice. The pictures you have sent… it is likewise heartening that you are carrying on well enough without me. There is a look of trouble about you… what has happened this past year?"
Somehow, the pretense of having to appear strong crumbled within him, and he just sighed as he told the tale of the school year to the Witch of Dun Scaith.
Whereas before, he was a sniffling wreck, now, only tears streaked down his face as he laid his sorrow bare towards the Witch, who he considered the closest thing to being a mother.
"…and once I come back to classes, it's going to be occlumency lessons with Professor Snape," Harry concluded, taking a relieved breath now that he had someone to openly share his problems and worries to.
"Tom, you've been keeping our boy here from being subjected to any legilimency probes, right?"
"That is right, Lady Scathach," the Device replied.
"That's good… until Harry can learn to anticipate such attacks and either deflect or ward them off, keep it up," the Witch replied, and then turned to Harry. "When you get back to school, keep in touch with me. I may have a few tricks or two to help you defend your mind against mental attacks."
"Thank you very much, Master," Harry said slowly, not trusting his voice, so afraid he was that it would crack at such a crucial moment. "I…"
"Do not worry too much, my apprentice. Let all your stress flow out of you until the year ends. Isn't this what I also told you during the holiday break?"
Harry just nodded.
"Then you'll be in good hands, provided you continue to look after yourself… also, you have become very good at capturing images… you and Ouroboros."
With Scathach giving him some reassurance, Harry did manage to relax up to the start of the new year, and recharge sufficiently for the rest of the school year.
As he was standing with the Dursleys in the town's fireworks display, this was when an epiphany came over him.
This was why his uncle, his aunt, and Dudley enjoyed what they called a 'normal existence'.
The fireworks continued to blossom in the midnight sky, all the while, Harry's resolve to set his roots elsewhere began to grow – he would not stand in the way of what his family wanted.
Mind Reading
The first day back in Hogwarts was, of course, uneventful – as everyone was struggling to get back into the groove of learning magic.
One student who had to hit the ground running was, of course, Harold Graham – and it was illustrated nicely by him being recommended for supplementary Potions classes.
When he entered the classroom in the dungeons, Professor Snape was already waiting for him, leafing through an esoteric potions text as he did.
He gave Harry an odd look as the fifth-year nominal Hufflepuff walked in with his potions kit, textbook peeking out of the covers.
Wait, is that…
"Ah, well, it's supposed to be called supplementary Potions, right?" Harry asked, in response to the professor quirking his eyebrow at what he was carrying.
"That textbook of yours… where did you get it?"
"Oh, this old thing? Found the fourth-year one in the rooms Professor Pennyworth let me use during the Triwizard. Also found this when I got locked out of my House, with all my books still in there. Heck, I haven't gotten around to getting them, since I have a… what's that odd look on your face, Professor?"
"Think nothing of it, Graham. I assume you know what guided meditation is?"
"I do, sir. It was one of the many things the Witch taught me for the Triwizard."
"That's good – we can begin earlier than expected."
Contrary to popular belief, no, Professor Snape did not begin the 'lesson' with a legilimency probe right off the bat.
What Happens Eventually
It was at the end of the first week that Professor Snape finally got around to asking Harry what was going on.
"I'm no slouch as a legilimens," he began, "but you have been doing an extraordinary job of fending off my attempts to read your mind. Dumbledore thinks you might be hiding something – but that's not relevant to what we're doing. Was this part of what you were taught by the Witch?"
Harry nodded warily.
"And the Headmaster just managed to finagle a set of pensieve memories from the merfolk chieftain, with how the second part of the Triwizard went. I saw how it unfolded, and the tournament footage… you do know you are the most dangerous wizard on these premises right now?"
Harry was surprised by the admission.
"Not Professor Dumbledore?" he asked.
"No, because the old wizard has lost too much to bother with trying to be dangerous. You're young, dumb, and itching to prove yourself to this world. What's stopping you from becoming the newest model of Dark Lord?"
"Well, Professor, I DO want to prove myself…" Harry admitted, "but not to this world. The Witch already taught me the lesson that the Dark Lord is a part of my destiny. Whether I like it or not, our paths will cross, and I can make better use of the time until that happens preparing myself for it… even if you don't think it's useful or needed."
Snape grunted.
"You leave the stopping of the Dark Lord to me and the rest of the Order. For now, clear your mind," he said, and cast the mind reading spell again.
After another futile attempt at reading Harry's mind, the Potions professor declared that the 'supplementary potions' class for the week was done. There was still time left on the clock, though.
"So, what did the Order find out about the dementor attack on me and my cousin?"
Snape sighed.
"It is not your business to know these sorts of things…" he began, but when he saw Harry's eyes narrow, he relented.
"When my family was put in the line of fire in front of those things, it became my business, Professor."
"That was meant to be a diversion," the Potions professor admitted, and had to admire Harry staying calm even when a sensitive topic was breached. "There was a breakout at Azkaban prison; a lot of Death Eaters escaped."
"So… he's putting the gang back together," Harry thought aloud as his mood returned to normal.
"That's what the Order has deduced," Snape agreed, and gestured towards the door. "But, again, leave matters for adults to the adults. You do not need to throw yourself into this world so quickly."
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said, and left – right before he closed the door behind him, he could hear a loud gulp from the Potions professor – he guessed that it might have been some sort of drink.
The Third Eye
From here, Harry saw that Umbridge was now monitoring other classes more closely: specifically, Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid looked like he was on the mend, but he was still nursing a few injuries, and had to settle for lectures and the magical equivalent of video to show footage of various magical creature breeding techniques, much to the delight and amusement of the students.
Divination, on the other hand, was an unmitigated disaster – Harry never took it as any of his electives, but had to sit in on them as a representative of Umbridge's when she was off monitoring the other class.
"…Mr. Graham, what do you mean when you say 'Horoscopes are pattern recognition'?"
"Well," Harry answered, "if you guys remember your previous Astronomy lessons about the canals of Mars, then the various character traits associated with zodiac signs and houses are often vague and connectable enough that one can make a comprehensive personality dossier out of someone based on their birth or star chart. It's less 'the chart makes the individual' and more 'individual interpretations of birth charts'… I don't know, always loved doing those things in my spare time, when Clyde lent me his old scientific calculator."
"Do tell the class more, Mr. Inquisitor," Professor Trelawney said a bit slyly, and Harry had to mentally curse his big mouth.
At least this isn't Umbridge talking trash to the Divination professor. Take small blessings while you can.
Yeah, but I haven't done a birth chart in years. I'm rusty.
I'll give you a helping hand. Just start slow and I'll assist.
Thanks, Ouroboros.
The rest of his mini-lecture went as well as he hoped.
"…and that's how personality traits were divided up by constellations. It's neither complete nor comprehensive, but a good theoretical grounding for other things, like arithmancy, for example."
The bell rang, and Harry let out a relieved breath as Professor Trelawney's classroom emptied.
"Please, Mr. Graham, stay a while," she said, and after the room was emptied, she continued.
"Thank you for not making light of my condition," the professor declared. "I have no conscious or deliberate control over the visions I see, and that is why I was brought here in the first place."
"That doesn't make you a fraud, like what Professor Umbridge is insinuating," Harry explained. "Just give me a couple days to make a presentation and I should be able to explain bits and pieces of how the 'Seer' phenomenon works."
"Again, Mr. Graham, thank you. You do not have to go through this much trouble on my behalf."
"Please, Professor," Harry said, and leaned in to whisper something to her: "I'm here to make her look dumb, too."
And right before he left, the Divination professor raised her near-empty glass of sherry to him in a toast.
Harry's Secret
For some reason, the inquisitorial squad got to wondering among themselves as to how their de facto leader still had an aura of serenity about him, even as the entire school was beginning to turn against them due to Umbridge's nonstop edicts.
None of them knew that Graham barely stopped the Ministry official from banning quidditch, as that would result in a situation where they would end up losing their control over the student body.
Harry already knew that it would be a disaster on both ends if Umbridge crossed the line at a time where his plans weren't yet ready, so he had to take the extra effort to convince the official to go after something else.
With his inquisitor duties, OWLs, and supplemental potions lessons, Harry's colleagues thought it would start to take a toll on him.
He just replied with a smile and said that this was nothing compared to his training under the Witch.
It was around this time that he had yet another close call.
"Harry. Harry!" Draco cried out as he banged on the door to the apprentice's quarters.
"It's open!" Harry called out, and when the Slytherin member of the inquisitorial squad walked in, he found one of the oddest sights.
Harry was holding what looked like one of those parts of those muggle weapons, the item glowing with a green light as his eyes was closed, and his head was moving to a beat.
"Put one in the chamber whenever I'm feeling this anger. Don't want to make excuses because this is how it is, what's the use? Unless we're shooting, no one notices the youth, it's just me against the world, baby," Harry sang softly as the light glowed and his head continued to bob.
The door closing behind him broke his concentration, and he put down the muggle part.
"Draco, I only said that you can only barge in when there's an em–" Harry began, but Draco beat him to the punch.
"Umbridge is gonna make her move on Professor Dumbledore. We're going to back her up."
Harry's eyes shot open immediately.
"Fuck."
"Indeed. Come on, we've got to go."
While they were making their way to Umbridge's office where the rest of the inquisitors were gathered, Draco finally pieced together the puzzle.
"So that's what's keeping your head, even throughout OWLs and all this. What kind of artifact is that?"
"Music player," Harry replied.
Just a music player?
Among other things, but we'll let Draco figure that one out later.
"What were you listening to? Sounds nothing like what I've been hearing."
"Muggle stuff," Harry replied. "You wouldn't like it."
Draco made a face.
"I'll be the judge of that," he added. "For now, we've got to act fast. Edgecombe got onto you, and she's already sold out the study group."
"This will be tricky. I'm going to have to start taking drastic steps."
"What am I gonna tell Umbridge?"
"You will tell them that you didn't find me in the Apprentice's Quarters," Harry answered, "in the meantime, I'm going to use Umbridge's preconceptions against her."
They got to one of the stairways: one was headed towards a seventh-floor corridor, and the other went down towards Umbridge's office.
"You go that way; I'm going this way."
"Better hurry, Umbridge looks like she's out for blood."
"I know."
They went their separate ways.
You Are (Not) Cornered
Harry managed to get to the Room of Requirement on time; upon his arrival, all but the leaders of the "Defense Association" dispersed.
It was only to a nearly empty room that Umbridge and her inquisitors arrived, and when confronted, surprisingly surrendered without a fight. Now, the group was slowly making their way to Dumbledore's office.
Using her inquisitor privileges to open the door and confront the headmaster, she walked in.
"I've nabbed your little group of loyalists, Albus," Umbridge triumphantly declared as she marched towards the old wizard. "Granger, Weasley, Longbottom. All your best and brightest Gryffindors, running this subversive little student organization under my nose? I put your man Alastor Moody to heel, so you have your pet students run this charade?"
All the while, Harry was poking the elbows of the three aforementioned students, so they'd 'struggle' in their bonds.
"I have no knowledge of any of this," the headmaster replied. "But if these children take their education in their own hands, who are you to deter them? As a teacher, you must applaud their initiative."
"Don't give me that 'kind old man' spiel, Albus. I have you dead to rights trying to make an army and take over the Ministry! Inquisitors! Ready your wands."
Nothing happened.
Albus Dumbledore let out a wry smile.
"It seems you've overestimated the loyalty you can inspire in your subordinates… Dolores," he said.
The leader of the Inquisitors turned around, and saw that everyone's wands were pointed… at her.
"What is this?"
The obscured inquisitor pulled down his hood to reveal a very familiar face: round glasses, messy hair, lightning-bolt scar…
"Harry Potter?!"
"One and the same," Harry replied, his voice full of venom. "You don't remember, right? I joined the inquisitors to help out Hogwarts from threats, so said the ministry. You conveniently forgot that at any moment, YOU can be deemed a threat to the school."
"So… you've brought the Boy-Who-Lived to be your weapon, Albus?"
Harry and Albus shook their heads.
"I'm going to come back here with a squad of Aurors, see how you'll fare against the full might of the Ministry of Magic!" Umbridge said indignantly, but before she could do anything, she found herself face to face with the Boy-Who-Lived's wand.
Said wand began to glow with an eerie green light.
"I'm afraid you can't do that," Harry gritted out. "Obliviate."
The resulting backlash from the spell rattled the office and everyone in it.
The Beloved Weekend
Though it seemed like nothing much happened after that, the next day, there was a small assembly at the Great Hall, and Harry – as the head of the student wing of the Inquisitorial squad – making an announcement to the school.
"Dolores Umbridge was found trying to conduct a hostile takeover of Hogwarts' headmaster post. She had Headmaster Dumbledore at wand-point, and was planning to use a dark artifact on him, which was why we of the inquisitorial squad had to take action," Harry said. "The head Inquisitor is currently in the hospital wing, and will be returned to the Ministry upon her recovery, with a stern warning not to set foot within Hogwarts premises anymore."
The entire student body applauded.
"And with Inquisitor Umbridge out of action, the Inquisitorial Squad is also officially dissolved."
More applause, and Harry could make out Fred and George Weasley hooting and hollering.
"We can now go back to our usual school business, and the more important task of studying for the upcoming OWLs. Thank you very much!"
First time you're getting a standing ovation after public speaking.
I could have said 'ding dong, the witch is dead' and they'd still cheer for me.
Take your triumphs while you can, Harry.
Yep. There are still a few loose ends we need to tie up, you know.
Doesn't it grate at you, that those loose ends are now an Order problem?
As much as I want to deal with the aftermath, Professors Dumbledore, Snape and Moody said they'd do the heavy lifting.
It's still very unbelievable to me that they actually listened to your messed-up idea, watched that Muggle film, and are doing what you proposed.
Look, I'm sorry I accidentally overloaded that Obliviate. I didn't know what the side-effects of a cartridge-powered spell like that would be.
No, you're not. You're just sorry you messed up the headmaster's office.
Nothing a repair spell can't fix. Besides, when the three professors saw my idea and the movie it was based on, they were all over it like a cheap three-piece suit.
Anyway, what do you plan to do now?
Now? Since we still have four months left to make up for those garbage 'educational decrees', we're going to have to hit the books. Professor Snape's promise, remember?
Yes, of course. Oh, your former colleagues.
"So," Draco Malfoy declared with a smile. "Boy-who-Lived, huh?"
Harry answered back with a grin of his own.
"Yeah, but at someone's suggestion, I used someone else's last name. Didn't want to be a celebrity."
"I know. Didn't you hear? The headmaster said we were heroes! We'd all get some honors or something at the end of the year, for standing up to that toad."
Crabbe let out a very undignified snort, followed by Goyle, and chuckles were exchanged all around.
"Don't let it get to your head, everyone. We're back to being students. Let's not waste this opportunity."
Draco nodded and tsk'ed.
"Really. Always thought Potter would be quite the ponce, but I never expected you of all people to be him."
"I get that often. So… what else are you guys going to do now?"
"Study for OWLs?" Pansy asked. "Since inquisiting took up a lot of our time, we need to catch up."
Harry shrugged.
"Well, we've officially disbanded as inquisitors… but nobody ever said a group of friends couldn't get together in the classroom next to the apprentice's quarters and study, right?"
"Friends?" Draco asked. "I like the sound of that."
When Harry had left towards the apprentice's quarters, Pansy turned to Draco.
"Do we let everyone know?"
Draco shook his head.
"That's up to him," he explained. "Harry, whatever his last name, is our friend. If he wants to be the one to tell the rest of the school that he's Harry Potter… we should let him do that. We owe him that much, right?"
The rest of the former inquisitors nodded.
"Now, you know how Slytherin handles secrets: what people know, they won't ask, and what they ask, we won't answer. Understood?"
Draco knew that Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy would be in on this, but as the other inquisitors said their assent, he smiled inside – Harry had done them all a good turn, and it would be the opposite of cunning if they did not reciprocate.
Several days later, Dolores Umbridge walked to the Ministry of Magic, tendered her resignation effective immediately, walked out onto the streets of magical London, took two steps, and collapsed onto the street due to a massive stroke.
She was brought to St. Mungo's, but the stroke's damage was extensive enough that she was relegated to a persistent vegetative state, even with the Ministry's best doctors looking after her.
Opening Pandora's Box
Harry thought that OWL reviews, as well as his supplemental potions lessons, would keep him busy well into the end of May.
Occlumency studies aside, he found himself bored out of his wits, as it was only seven weeks after the Umbridge incident that during the mock OWL exams, Harry ended up having the best average scores in his year (and irritating a particular Gryffindor because of it).
Alastor Moody and the rest of those under Umbridge's scrutiny also returned to active teaching duties; the academic grind that followed was quite imposing to most of the student body, but Harry knew what being literally ground into the dirt by a living legend was like, so he took that in stride as part and parcel of learning.
That also didn't include the fact that Harry had a Device to literally help him with studies.
To Harry's confusion, even with the recent achievements he attained, he still found himself isolated from the house he was supposed to be a part of.
And now, with all his tasks completed satisfactorily and his studies mostly taken care of, the loneliness was once more beginning to threaten to devour him.
There was only so much his Device and the Witch could do to help stave it off… and he even looked forward to supplemental potions lessons, just to have someone to talk to about how his day had been that wasn't his Device or the Witch.
Something fortuitously found him, as he was making his way to the apprentice's quarters to maybe relax a bit between classes.
"Luna, you have to tell us if your House-mates are taking your things again," Harry heard Neville Longbottom's voice as he rounded the corner, to see the heads of the Defense Association talking to a lower-year Ravenclaw. "We might not be able to help most of the time, but you need to tell us when something wrong is happening."
Harry walked up and saw that Ronald and Hermione were also offering their advice to the Ravenclaw girl. She looked very familiar… was she part of their makeshift defense classes while Professor Moody was relegated to telling his students old war stories to pass the time in Defense?
"Hello," Harry said, and when Luna turned towards her, he saw some sort of recognition or spark appear in her blue eyes, and all the stress that she had apparently been enduring reached the breaking point.
She gasped, turned, and ran away, pushing aside the three Gryffindors even as a trail of tears marked her passing.
This again?
If I had a galleon for every time this happened, I'd have two. Wait…
"What did you do?" Hermione asked as Neville took off after their classmate. "Luna just ran off."
Harry snapped back to reality.
"N…nothing. I just walked up and said hello," he answered. "Is she in some sort of trouble?"
"Past couple years now," Hermione admitted. "We've been trying to help, but…"
"…and then you just had to come in and scare the crap out of her!" Ron exclaimed. "You're still not in my good books because of what happened two months ago, never thought you'd be the sort to play spy or something like that…"
Ron continued on and on as Harry looked in the distance where Luna went, and where Neville and Hermione went after her.
"…and that's why you're still not square with the Defense Association! You got that, Graham?"
"I got it, Ron," Harry replied absentmindedly, still struck dumb by what happened earlier. "I'll go apologize to Luna."
"You'd better," Ron said, and turned to follow his friends.
Ron's a bit of a nonce, but he's right. You really do have to apologize to Luna.
For just saying hello?
There has to be some reason. This might be worth looking into.
That, and nobody just freaks out, cries, and runs away upon seeing me. What gives?
Well, if you apologize properly, we just might find out.
Yeah. Let's go with that.
Harry was only able to catch up to Luna two days after the incident, in the dining hall.
"Miss Lovegood," Harry said as he walked up to her. Thankfully, she did not gasp this time, though the flinch she made was very noticeable. "May I?"
He gestured towards the table, and offered to carry her food there.
She warily nodded, and when the both of them were seated and having lunch, Harry took the moment to apologize.
"Sorry for scaring you like that the other day," Harry began. "Was there something on me or I was carrying that frightened you?"
The fourth-year Ravenclaw shook her head.
"I'm the one who needs to apologize… Neville and the others got quite the fright after what happened, but it doesn't have anything to do with you. I mean… how do I say this… seeing you hurts me."
Harry's eyes widened.
"Hurts you? How?"
Luna sighed.
"It's just… can't explain… you just remind me of my mother."
Harry already knew a bit about what happened to Pandora Lovegood thanks to bits and pieces of conversation he had heard during the holidays at 12 Grimmauld Place.
"I'm sorry," Harry said sympathetically. "What happened to her?"
"A spell," Luna replied. "It backfired. I was nine."
"Again, I'm sorry," Harry said, and a flash of revelation hit him. "How did it happen?"
Luna shook her head.
"I don't remember… it was several years ago, I just don't…" she trailed off, closing her eyes, and when she opened them again, her entire demeanor changed. "How about this? I tell you what little I remember if you allow my dad to interview you for the Quibbler?"
Harry's eyebrows raised curiously.
Another news thing?
I think you should take this opportunity, Harry.
Huh?
Just do it.
Nothing to lose, anyway.
"Sounds good," Harry replied, and he could literally see sparkles of happiness from the fourth-year Ravenclaw girl.
"Wonderful! I'll contact my dad and hash out the details. Hopefully we can do it on the next Hogsmeade weekend."
Harry looked down at Luna's place, and it seemed she had finished her lunch while he wasn't looking.
"See you then, Harry!"
"Ah, yes. See you there."
Luna stood up with a smile, and skipped her way out of the dining hall, much to Harry's confusion.
What in the world did you sign me up for, Ouroboros?
Harry, there is something important you need to know about Luna Lovegood.
Something so important that you had me interviewed for the Quibbler?
More than that. Luna Lovegood… her Linker Core is active.
WHAT?!
A/N: Yes, Dudley purchased a set of VHS tapes containing the entirety of MOBILE FIGHTER G GUNDAM during his time in Japan. The "What the heck have you two boys been watching that's gotten you crying like that?" part are episodes 44 and 45.
The idiot Auror is, of course, Dawlish. Also, the potions textbooks Harry has been using since being named Dun Scaith's champion in fourth year are Snape's.
The song Harry is listening to while charging his cartridges is "Me Against the World" by Tupac Shakur.
The movie Harry referenced in the Umbridge incident is "Weekend at Bernie's". You can easily guess from there what happened when Harry used the cartridge-powered Obliviate, and how the Order took care of THAT loose end.
(Also yes, who would have thought that using a spell from one magical system with the kind of firepower brought to bear by a different magical system would have radically different results :thonking: )
Also, evil cliffhanger is evil. Next chapter might be the wrap-up for both this plot line and fifth year as a whole.
