Unexpected Patronum

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine; everything is J K Rowling's. Still.

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You can find the links to the audiobooks hosted on Spotify and Apple Podcasts via my website or my discord! The audiobook chapters have now got all the way to the end of the fourth book!

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Almost forgot to post today, but here you go!

Unexpected Patronum

Colin Creevey dozed beside the fire in the common room. His heavy, steady breathing rose and fell in a regular rhythm over the rattling window beside the stairs. Creevey's head slipped off the corner of his chair and he jolted upright.

Harry caught his eye and pushed a whisper of magic at him. A faint impression of fading shock flitted through his thoughts. He turned to the fire and the tenuous connection broke.

Getting there.

"You're not looking very ill." Katie drifted down the staircase from the girl's dormitories and sat on the arm of Harry's chair. "That horrible sickness you picked up yesterday has mysteriously vanished."

Harry smiled. "I found a cure."

Fleur. The fire that'd smouldered in her eyes flitted through his thoughts and his heart squirmed. Always Fleur.

"Was it Frenchie medicine?" Katie waggled her eyebrows.

"No." Heat crept onto Harry's face and he tried to smother the memories of Fleur's little gasps and moans beneath the willow tree.

Katie pursed her lips. " Sure, Harry. Whatever you say." She wriggled further into the arm of his chair and rested her arm on his shoulder. "I went to the hospital wing when Neville said you were sick, but you weren't there and nobody had seen you since your lesson with McGonagall…"

"I might've gotten lost on the route to the hospital wing," Harry admitted.

"Just be careful about getting caught disappearing off to France. Rita Skeeter hasn't written anything about you in almost a week, she's probably desperate for another." Katie gave him a gentle shove and lowered her voice. "How's it going with you and Frenchie, anyway? You never say anything about her."

Because when people realize I have things, they always try to take them away from me.

"I don't want anyone going after her because of me, especially Skeeter. Any girl she thinks is anywhere close to me is going to be on the front page by the next day."

Katie nodded. "That must suck. If you're not telling people, she must still get hit on an awful lot. You'll both probably have to go on some fake dates at some point or people will start to think it's weird."

Harry smothered a twist of ugly heat and forced a smile. "She's suspended for cursing someone right now, so I doubt anyone's hitting on her."

"That's good."

"Yeah." Harry crushed the shadow beside Fleur down somewhere he could no longer see it. "Can't say I'd be all that happy with that."

"At least you're not around to see it happening." Katie tugged at her hair. "Still, as long as the two of you are happy and safe, right?"

"Right."

She squirmed on the arm of his chair. "Since you were away, did you happen to read what Skeeter wrote in the absence of a story about you or Dumbledore?

"No." He glanced up and met her eyes. "Anything interesting?"

Any Dark Marks? Or did they manage to cover it up completely?

"Someone cast the Dark Mark over Godric's Hollow." Katie lowered her voice to a whisper. "The Ministry are quoted as blaming Sirius Black because he's an escaped supporter of You-Know-Who, but Skeeter went a bit off the script after that point. She mentioned Black was last reported in Cyprus only three days ago and that he never cast the Dark Mark after killing Peter Pettigrew."

"Just enough to inspire doubt about the story." Harry frowned. "Maybe someone at the Ministry upset her and this is the only way she can get back at them."

Maybe Fudge forgot to keep paying her or something.

"Or she might just want more money," Katie muttered. "The interesting thing is that the Prophet got into trouble for revealing the details of a secret investigation, so Skeeter shouldn't have known about the Cyprus thing at all."

Harry laughed. "I don't think she should know a lot of things that she writes. She must know someone in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"She is very good at finding out secrets, isn't she? I wonder how she does it."

"What else did the article say?"

"Not a great deal, it was only part of her column. There was a bit on the Dark Mark, that it's He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's personal symbol and only cast by members of his inner circle, some of whom have escaped from Azkaban." She rubbed her chin, then slipped off the arm of the chair and wormed her way in beside Harry. "She speculated about why the mark might have been cast over Godric's Hollow, too."

"My parents."

"The Daily Prophet suggests it was Black taking credit for their deaths."

"I suspect they'll never actually catch them, Sirius Black or not. They didn't manage to keep him in Azkaban and they haven't found him in two years."

"You don't seem all that concerned by it," Katie said. "The Dark Mark was cast over your parents" house."

"They died when I was a baby, Katie, and everyone knows who killed them. The house is just a memorial, I've never set foot inside it. There isn't really a good reason for me to care, I'd rather they were casting big obvious pieces of magic in the sky than murdering people."

"Maybe they're only just getting started."

The more times I cast it, the harder it'll be to ignore.

"Maybe they are," he said.

"Enough gloomy talk." Katie gestured at the handful of people who were making their way out through the portrait. "It's DA time."

"Have fun." Harry pushed her out of his chair and onto the floor.

"Oh no you don't, Harry." Katie pouted up at him from the floor. "You promised you were coming to this one."

The Patronus. Right.

"I did, didn't I? Might as well get it over and done with, then."

He dragged himself out of his chair, offering Katie a hand.

She laughed and let him pull her to her feet. "Such a gentleman." She leant in close. "No wonder Frenchie's so smitten. What other boy could hope to compete?"

Probably an awful lot of them. A little ball of cold tightened beneath his ribs. But Fleur would never want any of them. They're not right for her.

He managed a chuckle. "I do try."

Katie shoved him toward the portrait and out onto the stairs. "Come on, lover boy. You can daydream later."

"Harry." Ginny's voice came from right next to his ear.

He winced as cold shock flooded through his veins. "Ginny?"

She twisted her fingers together and stared at her feet, then took a deep breath and straightened up. "I was wondering about something-

"

Katie stepped out of the passage into Harry's back. "Ow."

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade next weekend," Ginny blurted.

Harry grimaced. "We talked about this, Ginny. I'm sorry, I can't."

"You can't or you don't want to?" Ginny asked.

"Both." He sighed. "I don't want to keep leading you on, Ginny. I just don't see you like that, I'm afraid."

"Then why can't you go?" Ginny threw a glance past him at Katie.

Merde. Harry struggled for something plausible.

"He's busy," Katie said.

"Oh." Ginny glanced between them. "I see. I just had to ask, Harry. I promised myself that I'd ask one more time and if you said no, then I'd move on for good."

Harry watched a blue beetle crawling along Ginny's shoulder. "I am sorry, Ginny. I don't think you'd enjoy dating me right now, anyway." Not least because Fleur would murder both of us.

"There're plenty of other guys who'd be lucky to be with you," Katie added.

Ginny's eyes flashed. "Just not the one I want. I'll see you at the meeting, Harry." She turned on her heel and stalked away. The blue beetle drifted off her shoulder and away down the staircase.

"That could have gone worse," Harry muttered. "I thought she was over her infatuation with heroes."

"It could have gone better too," Katie murmured. "Did you see how she looked at us?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "With her eyes?"

"She thinks the reason you can't go with her is me," Katie said.

"Oh."

"Exactly," Katie muttered.

"Do you think she'll tell anyone?" Harry asked.

"Will she talk to her friends about why she's upset over you turning her down?" Katie shook her head. "Sometimes, Harry, you're very perceptive, but other times I wonder if you understand girls at all."

"I don't." Harry grinned at her. "You're all weird."

"Tell that to Frenchie," she sniped. "And speaking of…"

Harry's heart sank. "If Ginny tells people, everyone will start believing

it."

Fleur may kill me.

"Do you think anyone will believe it?" he asked.

Pink crept onto Katie's cheeks. "Well, not to put too fine a point on it,

Harry, but we are close friends and we do have history."

"Merde."

Fleur will definitely kill me if she learns everyone thinks I'm dating Katie.

"Awww." Katie patted him on the cheek. "You've started picking up cute Frenchie words."

"That's not a very cute word." He scowled and hurried up the stairs. "I'll have to tell Ginny we're not a thing at the DA before she talks to anyone."

"You aren't going to tell her about Frenchie, are you?" Katie bounced after him and caught his wrist. "I thought you were keeping her a secret."

"I won't tell anyone about Fleur who doesn't already know. If she asks, I guess I just won't answer."

"She won't believe you." Katie caught his eye and shrugged. "I wouldn't. It sounds fishy."

"It's Fleur hearing about it that concerns me. Ginny will get over it."

Her fingers slipped from his arm. "Right. Of course." She glanced away. "You could always swear an unbreakable vow to Frenchie that we're just friends. It's not like we're actually doing anything."

Harry contemplated it. "It's dangerous, but I suppose I'd rather do that than have her misunderstand and leave."

"You'd rather permanently bind your life and magic to her than have her upset at you?" Katie stared at him. "That's very committed, Harry."

He flushed and stepped toward the door on the seventh floor. "Hush, you."

"You're so sweet." Katie giggled. "Clearly I'm a lucky girl."

"As if I'd date a violent Quidditch fanatic like you again."

She pouted at him. "We both know you'd be more than happy to see me in that seashell bra." A little gleam welled up in her eyes. "Or not in the seashell bra."

Harry paused with one hand on the door. "We should probably not make jokes like that for a bit."

Katie's lips twisted. "Fine. I'll hold back when there are gullible idiots nearby."

Harry offered her a smile. "Thanks, Katie. You can still make as many silly jokes about us as you like when there's nobody listening." He pushed the door open.

"I'll hold you to that," Katie murmured in his ear.

"Ah, the teacher arrives." Cedric waved everyone else back against the wall with his wand. "Neville was beginning to fear you weren't coming."

"I promised I would," Harry said.

The members of the DA watched him with wary eyes. Hermione rocked back and forth on her heels, tapping her wand against her palm.

"Alright, let's get on with it, then." Harry strode forward into the middle of the room. "The Patronus Charm is more advanced than anything else you'll likely be learning at Hogwarts in Defense. It creates a partially tangible form of positive emotion and intent. The steps are relatively simple, you need only focus on a positive emotion and speak the incantation, but having the ability to cast it is another thing entirely."

Harry spread his hands to indicate they should move apart from each other. "Can anyone produce a Patronus of any sort?" He glanced at Cedric.

"Nope." Cedric shook his head. "If I knew how you wouldn't have nearly died when dementors interrupted our Quidditch game in third-"

"I can!" Hermione jumped forward. "It's not a proper one like yours, but I can cast it."

Harry stifled the urge to roll his eyes. "Show everyone."

Hermione raised her wand, glowing pink with pride, and closed her eyes. "Expecto Patronum."

A rush of silver vapour shot from her wand to form a shining shield between her and Harry.

"That's very impressive," Harry said. "Self-taught, I presume."

"Yes."

"How long have you been trying? All the way since the end of third year, when you realized I could do it?"

She flushed and shuffled her feet. "Yes. Sorry, Harry."

"You heard the incantation," Harry said. "Hermione pronounced it perfectly. Focus on the happiest memory you have, or imagine something that will make you happier still, then cast."

"Which do you use?" Ginny asked.

"Whichever comes easiest," Harry lied.

I've not tried. Not since the maze.

"Can you show us yours?" Cedric asked.

Merde.

He pictured his parents in the Mirror of Erised, but Fleur's figure crept in between them in the ancient, silver surface. "Expecto Patronum."

A bright cloud of silver vapour burst from its tip, hovering in the air in front of him. The vapour twisted and churned on itself like smoke caught on the wind.

"I thought you said you could form a corporeal Patronus," Smith said.

"He can," Ron said. "We all saw it at Quidditch in our third year when

Malfoy tried to pretend to be a dementor."

"Stags don't have feathers," Terry Boot called out.

Harry's gaze snapped back to the mist. The tips of ghost-like feathers shivered at the edges of the vapour, flaring as if to catch the wind. Best not to let them see what form it has. He dispelled it.

"A Patronus takes on a corporeal form that is unique to the caster," Hermione recited. "A corporeal Patronus generally takes the shape of the animal the caster shares the deepest affinity with."

"He probably doesn't want us to see what it is," Smith sneered. "It's likely a snake."

"With feathers? " Terry Boot shot Smith a scathing look.

Smith muttered something under his breath and shuffled back into the crowd.

"It's changed…" Hermione stared at Harry. "A corporeal Patronus only changes when the caster has been through a dramatic, emotional upheaval. The book said things like loss, love, and betrayal have caused changes in Patronuses."

Thanks, Hermione.

"Perhaps you should all try casting your own versions now." Harry slipped his wand back up his sleeve. "As entertaining as listening to Hermione's version of the textbook is, you're here to learn how to cast it, not guess which feathered creature mine is. The dementors are unlikely to be stopped from taking your souls because you know the form of my Patronus."

The members of the DA split up and began to cast. A few wisps of silver shot from a scattered handful of wands to disperse into the air.

"Pick your happiest memory and let yourself really feel it." Harry took a seat on the floor nearby Nev and Katie. "Or if that doesn't work, imagine something that would make you happy and use that."

Katie shot Harry a glance, then closed her eyes and returned to casting. Silver mist gushed from her wand, growing tight and dense a metre from its tip.

Harry watched it coalesce into the form of a crow.

She pouted. "Well that wasn't what I was expecting."

Fred laughed and pointed it out to his twin. "But it explains a lot-" "Oh great Dark Mistress," George said.

"Well done for being the first." Harry surveyed the room. "Cedric,

Hermione, and Neville look like they're getting fairly close now, too."

A silver badger formed from Cedric's wand and patrolled a small circle around his feet.

He shot Harry a rueful grin. "It was inevitable that it'd be a badger, wasn't it?"

"Badgers are actually violent, vicious creatures." Harry eyed the silver patronus. "Yours looks like a spaniel in cosplay."

"Bit harsh." Cedric laughed. "But probably fair. They absolutely ravage Dad's lawn. Worse than gnomes, apparently."

A silver otter chattered and scampered around Hermione's feet.

Appropriate enough. I knew she'd get it soon. A faint pang rippled through Harry's chest as he drew Ginny aside.

A little flicker of something that might've been hope passed through her eyes. "Harry?"

"I'm not with Katie." He swallowed a bitter lump. "I'm not - I'm not with anyone. I just don't want to have to listen to all the rumours. Katie doesn't need that."

"Is she why your Patronus changed? From before the Yule Ball?"

"I don't think so." Harry shrugged. "I felt like a lot of people turned on me, then. Loss and betrayal."

"Not love, then," Ginny murmured.

Almost certainly. Harry smothered a small smile. Fleur's blue eyes and slight pout hovered in his thoughts, and a soft pain twisted beneath his ribs. And I'm stuck here instead of being with her.

"Definitely not," he said.

"I wasn't going to tell anyone," Ginny said. "I might've told my friends that I thought you were with someone else, but I thought you and Katie were trying to keep it a secret and just act like you were friends."

"We are just friends."

Ginny glanced past his shoulder. "I think she knows what we're talking about. I should keep practicing."

Harry caught Katie's eye. She beamed and gave him a thumbs up. A gleaming silver wolf padded around Neville, nuzzling at his wand hand with its muzzle.

Interesting. Harry waved to Katie and drifted away toward the door and the chamber. I wonder what mine is.

"Myrtle?" He paused before the puddle.

"Harry!" She shot out of the wall and twirled on the spot. "I had visitors at lunchtime yesterday. First years, or maybe second, they were very small. They wanted to know if there was anything special about the bathroom."

"Did they decide on anything?" A tight knot coiled in his stomach.

If they keep coming back, I might not be able to get out to see Fleur.

"They never found anything, but nobody who comes here does."

"If they come back, please tell me, Myrtle," Harry asked. "You don't know how important it is to me that the entrance remains a secret."

"I'll tell you, Harry. I always know when someone's in here. I can feel

it."

"Thanks." He shot her a smile. "I appreciate it Myrtle."

"That's ok, Harry." She fiddled with her wide-framed glasses. "Come visit me whenever you want."

"I'll do my best to say hi." Harry turned to the sink. " Open." He hurried down the steps and through to the top of the bridge. "Mother, I'm home," he called.

"Welcome back, darling." Salazar pried his snake off his forehead. "Are you here to learn something useful, or are you off to France again?"

"I was wondering what you knew about the Patronus Charm? Mine appears to have changed."

Salazar peered down at him. "Changed?"

"It used to be a stag, then I was almost unable to cast it, and now it seems to be something feathered, though I haven't cast a complete corporeal charm yet."

"That's interesting. The charm's very old, it's one of the obvious, emotion-related concepts of magic, but very hard to produce despite it. My own Patronus changed form twice, for different reasons."

Interesting. I wonder if there're any similarities.

"When did it change?" Harry asked.

"If you wanted to know why you could've just asked," Salazar said. "It was originally a regular serpent, but when I met my wife and we had our daughter, it changed and became a runespoor. I was very proud of it." His expression darkened. "After my wife's death and the beginning of my quest to try and undo the sacrifice I made, it changed again, shifting to the form of a moth. It remained a moth until I stopped being able to cast it."

"You stopped being able to cast it?"

"You said you were almost unable to cast it, when was that?"

"In the maze during the third task." Harry thought back. "It wasn't the best time for me, not much was going well. Even happy memories and thoughts didn't really reach me."

"Then you already know why." Salazar's smile was thin and bitter. "I told you that those who commit themselves to escaping death are consumed by their quest. By the end of my life, everything else had lost meaning, and I'd all but given up. My happiest memories were tainted."

"I see."

"You have Fleur Delacour now, so cast the charm and show me."

Harry closed his eyes. He reached back for the warmth of the sun through the willow leaves, the quiet sound of the river and the wind in the grass, the sweet scent of marzipan, the taste of Fleur's lips, the blue of her eyes, the silver of her hair, the slight curve of her pout, and the softness in her eyes when she stared at him. Perfect. As she always is.

"Expecto Patronum," he murmured.

Heat rushed up his arm from his wand and a great eagle burst forth in an explosion of silver vapour. It spread its wings wide and eyed Harry's surroundings with fierce intelligence.

"An eagle…"

"That's not an eagle, Harry." Salazar's green eyes softened and the corner of his mouth crooked. "That is an Anzu, a giant bird supposedly capable of magically breathing fire. They went extinct millennia ago and are only found in the oldest stories of Mesopotamia, their homeland."

"An extinct, fire-breathing eagle." Harry grinned. "I like it."

"A new Patronus with the form of an ancient Mesopotamian magical bird… Do you know where the first veela are supposed to have come from? I don't think it's any mystery what caused this change." "I like my eagle. Is that really why it's that form? Because of Fleur?"

"It's an Anzu. Most eagles would disappear under its wings. And it seems that way. Mine changed because I found my wife, then when I lost her. Helga's never changed from a phoenix, Rowena's was always an owl, and Godric's patronus was a griffin for as long as I knew him, but he mentioned it changed when his parents died."

"It's actually that large in real life?" Harry stared at the wingspan for a

moment. "You know, I sort of expected the other founders" Patronuses to be the same as the house sigils."

"They were extinct long before I was alive." Salazar shrugged, displacing his snake. "But the corporeal form of your Patronus takes on the exact shape of the animal as far as I understand, so probably." He peered down at Harry as he picked his serpent back up. "And why would you assume we would give away so much information about ourselves when choosing house sigils? Rowena chose a bird famous for its intelligence, I chose the serpent because nobody would expect anything else from me, Godric wanted to choose a griffin, but I told him that would look vain, so he chose half a griffin instead, and Helga just liked badgers. She thought they were adorable."

Harry sighed. "That completely ruins my image of the four of you being the perfect embodiment of your houses" traits."

"Rowena's is fairly accurate," Salazar said. "Mine, too. Godric would've hated the students in his house, if what I've heard from you is true. He valued bravery, loyalty, and forgiveness above all else."

"What about Helga?"

"She loved children. Helga spoiled every child she met, her nephews and nieces adored her more than they did their parents. It wouldn't matter which house you were in to her as long as she could mother you."

"I wonder how Slytherin ended up having such a bad reputation."

Salazar let out a short, bitter laugh. "The blame lies partly with myself and partly with the traits I valued. Ambition, cunning, intelligence and bravery can all be used to do terrible things, but while bravery can be foolish and intelligence misapplied, cunning can only really be outdone by others. It did not help that I dabbled greatly in dangerous magic in the final years of my life. That would have attracted a great many wizards and witches of questionable morals to my house." "Like Tom Riddle," Harry muttered.

"He was nearly sorted into both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, actually. His ambition outweighed his desire for knowledge and the loyalty he felt toward a world that accepted him when his did not, but only just."

A strange sort of sadness settled over Harry like a thick, soft blanket. "If only the magical world hadn't turned its back on him like the muggle one."

"If he'd chosen either of Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff it might not've done, but his desire was too strong and he did. There's little point regretting it now. I watched him change from Tom Riddle to Voldemort with pride and said nothing, not realising how much he'd lost from himself in his becoming until it was too late."

"Could you have stopped him before he changed too much?" Harry picked the time-turner off the desk and tugged a thick tome on prophecies off the shelf behind him. "If you'd known, that is."

"I believe so." Salazar stared down at Harry. Shadows clustered in the portrait's eyes, deep and dark as dusk. "I hope so."

AN: Do come join our growing Discord community for parody vids, audiobook links, all my other writing, and more! You can also find details about all the early access chapters and so on there!

Family Matters

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine; everything is J K Rowling's. Still.

AN: The Discord server's still up, running, and steadily growing. Do come join us!

You can find the links to the audiobooks hosted on Spotify and Apple Podcasts via my website or my discord! The audiobook chapters have now got all the way to the end of the fourth book!

All the early access chapters are all on my website, but, of course, require a detour through the-site-that-must-not-be-named.

d iscord. gg / 7D7dWjzKac alltheblankcanvas. com

I'm a few hours early today, hope you all don't mind…

Family Matters

Shadows swirled between pale, crumbling headstones and thick fog rose around his knees like smoke. Harry drifted past rows of darklettered tombs toward distant, flickering light.

James Potter. Lily Potter. Quirrell. Harry trailed his fingers along the smooth, cold marble and the fog closed around him. Barty Crouch Jr. Peter Pettigrew. Bertha Jorkins.

Bright, vivid green flashed through the mist like lightning across the sky. A shadow lingered where the white headstones stretched off into the fog, less than a spectre, yet the mist crept back from it as if burnt away by the sun.

Harry's wand slipped into his hand and he paused beside another pale memorial. Dolores Umbridge. He strode on and left the inkblack letters etched into the marble behind.

The shadow darkened to a thin-limbed wraith of jet black and extended one skeletal hand.

The fog rolled back.

Frozen mud, black-stained pale pebbles, and a fouled river lay at his feet. Faces swirled in the water: snatches of Fleur's smirk, Katie's grin, his parents waving from the Mirror of Erised, and a thousand other half-recalled moments gleamed in its depths. The dead branches of a willow tree trembled upon the far bank, and endless graves stretched from beneath its withered boughs, fading into a red dawn.

Above it all, the spectre hovered, a slim shadow before the rising crescent of the crimson sun; it spread its arms out wide and red light spilt forth past its shade like sunlight bursting through stormclouds.

The cold of the mud seeped into him. The endless graves sprawled so far into the dawn he could feel all the space stretching away into nothing and an awful emptiness clawed its way up inside Harry's chest. No. He shoved it down. Never again. I'm not going back. I won't be that boy again.

He raised his wand at the distant shadow. "Avada kedavra!"

Emerald light flashed across his eyes.

He jolted awake. Sunlight stabbed at his eyes through a gap in the curtains of his bed. Faint bird song drifted to his ears from outside.

"Tempus." He squinted at the silver numbers. "Almost seven."

And the Christmas holidays start tomorrow.

Harry pulled his robes and rubbed the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes, then slipped down to the common room.

Flames crackled and logs popped in the fireplace. Harry settled himself down beside it and rested his feet close to the fire.

Now, what next? He spun his wand round on his palm, enjoying the little washes of warmth that rushed across his skin. I need to keep an eye on Umbridge. I need to find out about the Hall of Prophecies. And I need to pick a good moment to send Umbridge off to follow the spiders once I have.

Harry yawned and waved his wand at the fireplace, twisting the smoke into a writhing serpent.

But the only person who'll tell me about the Department of Mysteries is probably Sirius and he's still just about sticking with Dumbledore's policy of not telling me things. He twirled his serpent of smoke in circles above the flames and drummed his fingers upon the arm of the chair. But if Dumbledore gets thrown out, then Sirius should tell me what I need to know about the Department of Mysteries, so it comes back to choosing a good moment.

"And I can't watch her myself." A small, thin smile curved his lips. "But perhaps Umbridge would like to have the focused attention of Hogwarts's only free elf." His smile warmed a fraction. "And it'd be nice to have a reason to see the mad little elf again, even if Dobby's a bit disturbing."

Harry dragged himself out of the chair and cast the disillusionment charm, slipping out of the tower and toward the kitchens. He strode down the steps to the basement level, taking them two at a time, then along the well-lit corridor with its many paintings of food.

A large picture of fruit within a silver bowl blocked the corridor's end.

And if what the twins have told me about Katie's alcohol inspired kitchen trips is true, I just need to tickle the pear. Harry reached up and gave it a tentative tickle with his forefinger. They better not have been having me on, I already feel like an idiot doing this.

The green fruit giggled and shifted into a door handle.

It enjoyed that almost as much as Fleur did. Harry chuckled to himself and stepped into the kitchens.

Endless shelves of brass and copper pans, and worn, stained wooden tables stretched beneath a high-vaulted ceiling. A horde of house elves bustled back and forth between the tables in a bizarre array of pillow covers, blanket patches, and mismatched cushion covers.

The door thudded shut behind Harry.

Hundreds of pairs of bulbous eyes swiveled to stare at him. The nearest elf lost his grip on his lemon and the yellow fruit rolled across the table and fell onto the floor.

Creepy.

"I'm looking for Dobby," Harry said.

A pair of bright green eyes appeared with a loud crack. "The great Harry Potter called." Dobby bobbed his head up and down, setting his ears to flapping like broken bats" wings.

"I have something I need your help with, Dobby," he murmured.

"There's a teacher at this school who's been harming the students-"

"Dobby knows the one the great Harry Potter means, but Dobby can't help, not while he's an elf of Hogwarts. He made an agreement." Harry sighed. So much for that brilliant plan.

Dobby's green eyes bored through Harry's skull like a pair of little lasers. "Dobby could help if he had a different master."

Does he ever blink?

"If you had a new master, would you be able to watch her office and remove anything that could be dangerous to students from it?" Harry asked.

"Yes." Dobby nodded so hard his chin bumped against his chest. "If Harry Potter offers, if he wants, then Dobby will be accepting him as his master and serving him as proudly as any elf could."

"How should I offer?" Harry enquired. "Is there something I have to do?"

"Harry Potter has to offer Dobby his magic, once Dobby has touched and accepted a wizard's magic Dobby is bound to them."

That would be useful. And he'd be loyal. Harry considered it. But I don't want him doing it out of some sense of obligation. Nobody should be forced to play hero.

"Do you want to be bound to me, Dobby?"

"Dobby likes working here, but an elf is best off with the magic of a master and a family. Hogwarts has enough magic to keep house elves alive and sane, but it's distant magic, Harry Potter, not personal, it's lonely magic."

"I'm not sure if that's a yes?"

"Dobby would most certainly like to have Harry Potter as a master. Harry Potter is a great wizard, one an elf would be proud to serve. Dobby heard how master Harry Potter dealt with his nasty former young master." A vicious grin crossed Dobby's face.

Harry edged back a little. I forgot how much he hates the Malfoys.

"Then I offer you my magic, Dobby," he said.

Dobby's whole body trembled and he blinked hard several times.

He does blink. Harry released a small sigh. Thank fuck for that.

Dobby reached out with one small hand and grasped Harry's wrist. Magic surged to the surface then subsided like a freak wave.

Dobby shivered and straightened up. "Master Harry Potter is a very great wizard. His magic is stronger than Dobby imagined."

"Can you watch Umbridge for me, Dobby?" Harry murmured. "And if she tries to harm a student, can you make sure she's stopped? I know you can use your magic within the school walls and remain undetected."

"Dobby will stay and work at Hogwarts. He will make sure the nasty pink woman doesn't hurt any of Master Harry Potter's friends."

Harry smiled. "Thank you, Dobby. Do you still want paying?"

"Master Harry Potter freed Dobby from - from-" Dobby's face screwed up in hatred. "From the Malfoys and lets him touch his magics. An elf is greatly affected by his master's magic and Master Harry Potter's magic is strong. Dobby owes him a debt that he can never repay."

"Well, if you change your mind, you only have to ask."

Gold's only gold. Loyal friends are far rarer.

"Dobby will go and start watching." Dobby vanished with a loud crack.

The other elves shuffled closer, crowding around Harry. One thrust half a slice of buttered toast wrapped in a napkin into his palm.

Another placed the lemon in his other hand, nodding all the while.

"Thanks…" Harry gave them a wave and took a bite out of the toast. "Until next time, I guess."

Though I'm not really sure what to do with this lemon. He finished his toast and drifted back up toward the tower, listening to the swelling noise as everyone else awoke. It's a bit early for anything particularly lemony.

He stumbled into Katie in the passageway behind the Fat Lady, staggering forward as he held her to him to avoid knocking her over. The lemon slipped from his fingers and rolled out of sight.

"Harry." Katie's voice trembled. "We have a problem, a big problem."

"We do?" He grew aware of a warm, damp feeling soaking across the shoulder of his robes and how Katie's fingers curled tight into his robes round his back. "What is it, Katie?"

Soft sobs came from where she buried her face in his robes.

A thick, hot knot clenched in Harry's stomach. Merde. She's really upset. I've not seen her cry since we split up.

He guided her back into the common room and took a seat. Katie slumped onto the arm of his chair, then slid down into his lap.

"This." She held a copy of the Daily Prophet out.

Harry glanced down from her red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Love Triangle at Hogwarts. Rita Skeeter sheds light! The bottom dropped out of his stomach.

"Fuck," he muttered.

Katie jabbed her finger at the third paragraph. "This bit."

Harry skimmed down to it. "Undeterred by the obstacle, I ventured to discover the truth of the matter. Ginny Weasley, a fourth year Gryffindor student and close friend of Harry Potter, whose sensational stories and history have often been a feature of my articles, has set herself on winning the heart of the Boy-Who-Lived. Your intrepid reporter has discovered that not only does Mr. Potter appear to be allowing her affections, but, at the same time, is pursuing a relationship with former flame and ex-quidditch teammate, Katie Bell. The two were known to be briefly together before the Yule Ball last year, but separated under suspicious circumstances when the impressionable Mr. Potter suddenly chose to abandon his girlfriend and accompany the part-human, French champion Fleur Delacour instead."

"It gets better." Fresh tears leaked from under Katie's lashes. " Much better."

"It seems that having fallen for the allure of Miss Delacour, who subsequently abandoned him, Mr. Potter learnt a few tricks of his own about manipulating the opposite sex. Now, he can be seen stringing along two young, innocent girls in his sordid games. Miss Bell, who according to reliable sources is often seen in close company of Harry Potter, was allegedly the slighted party when he assaulted and gravely injured a fellow student. You may remember, my readers, that this offense saw him rightly banned from playing quidditch. Since then, Miss Bell has become all but inseparable from him as he encourages her to bully and torment younger students."

Harry scanned the first line of the next paragraph. Dark magic and debauchery in Hogwarts's dormitories.

Katie curled into a ball on his lap with her head against his shoulder. "See. It's awful. "

"Well, Fleur's definitely going to murder me this time."

Harry's heart sank somewhere down into a dark, deep void. And even if she forgives me one more time, Gabby and her parents will see this…

"My parents are going to murder me," Katie whispered. "They believe the Prophet's rooted in truth, even if it dresses things up to get people to read it."

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "It's being around me that's dragged you into this. If you want to keep your distance or pretend to dislike me, then I understand."

I'll survive. I survived being alone before. I'll survive it again. Dread coiled its tight sharp spines round his heart. But I don't want to. There's almost nothing I want less.

"The whole school is going to think I'm some kind of slut," Katie spat. "How did Skeeter even know about any of this?" She stabbed her finger at the article. "That's word for word what Ginny said outside the portrait last night, but there was nobody there but us. It was the same with all her other articles, too."

It is word for word, isn't it? She must've been there. Harry frowned. But how would she get through the wards undetected? Nobody's managed it since Sirius came after Pettigrew. His mind was drawn to the beetle he had seen crawling over Ginny's top. Maybe she did it the exact same way.

"I think I might know how," he said.

"What?" Katie demanded. "I hope it's illegal. I'll destroy her."

"Perhaps she's an unregistered animagus."

"Ginny had a beetle on her. It was bright blue." Katie beamed. "If she's unregistered, she could be sent to Azkaban."

"I'm not going to try and expose her." Harry sighed. "She's useful to the Ministry at the moment and she knows it. Until they stop needing her to discredit me, nothing will happen."

Although there might be a chance to get back at her more subtly somehow.

"So she's going to get away with this." Katie seethed and balled her fists. "This article is going to make everything hell. "

"It's not exactly ideal."

"What if I tell everyone about Skeeter?" Katie suggested.

"You've been manipulated and tricked by me, remember," Harry said.

"There's really nothing we can do," she whispered. "We just have to

live with it."

"Skeeter will eventually write something offensive about someone dangerous and get her just reward for it," Harry said. "It's far worse for Ginny than us."

Katie slumped and stared into the fire. "Because she loves you…

And now everyone is going to know and think the worst of her for it."

"Exactly. I don't think I'll be seeing very much of Ginny for the foreseeable future."

Katie smeared her tears away on her sleeve and dabbed her cheeks dry. Streaks of dark mascara smudged across the skin beneath her eyes. "Urgh. I bet I look like a complete mess, now, don't I?"

Harry gave her weak grin and a thumbs up. "But a cute mess, if you had that seashell bra…"

She snorted. "Definitely can't make that joke too loudly now."

Footsteps sounded from the girls" dormitories" stairs. Katie froze, then threw herself into the chair opposite Harry with a small squeak.

Alicia loomed out of the dark. "Oh, you're down here, Katie." She paused, frowned, then shot a black glare at Harry. "Have you been crying ?"

Alicia will cheer Katie up better than me. Harry smothered the slow swelling of freezing rage. And Rita Skeeter deserves some payback.

"I'm going for a walk to think." He helped himself to some spare parchment, a quill, and some ink. "I'll let you and Alicia talk about things without an unwelcome audience."

I'll send Rita Skeeter a letter and get hold of the address. Let's see where that takes me.

He made his way out of the tower again, ignoring Alicia's whispering, and headed for the Owlery. A yawning, upper year Slytherin holding a small basket of bright flowers crossed paths with him on his way back from the greenhouses.

Miss Rita Skeeter. Harry paused to lean on the wall and write on the envelope, then scribbled the same on his spare parchment. As a former friend of certain Hogwarts students, I've been privy to some of their actions. However, in recent times, their actions have grown offensive and dangerous, I'd be more than willing to share what I know with you, if you're interested. He tore the bottom part of the parchment off and cast the protean charm to link it to the envelope.

"And just one more enchantment…" He pushed his magic into the envelope, imbuing it with the ability to mimic nearby similar objects. "An envelope to mimic the address on any mail nearby and the protean charm to copy it into my pocket." Harry turned it over in his head. "Should work."

And I can't ask Fleur for a clever way. He grimaced and buried a hot, sharp tangle of feeling. She won't want to see me.

Harry trudged his way up the tower, folded the letter into the envelope, and sealed it.

"This is for Rita Skeeter, Hedwig." He offered the envelope to his owl. "Make sure you deliver it to her home, not to her work, or anywhere else."

Hedwig stared at him with her amber eyes, fluffed her feathers, then let out a soft hoot, hopped toward the window, and took off into the sky.

Time for breakfast, I suppose. Harry plodded back to the Great Hall.

Whispers pursued him the whole way. Katie's, Ginny's, and his names echoed after him in hushed hisses.

Here we go again. He gritted his teeth and strode into the hall. But you won't see me care. Fleur's right. They just want to tear down anyone they fear might be better than themselves. Harry chose a spot close to the end of the Gryffindor table and helped himself to sausages, eggs, and toast.

Katie came down a few mouthfuls later and headed toward him, but Alicia and Angelina trapped her in between the two of them and went to join the twins. Harry raised an eyebrow at her down the table. She gave him a small shrug and sliced a piece of toast into smaller and smaller pieces on her plate.

I shouldn't have made that offer. He sighed and forced down another mouthful of food. I survived before. I'll survive again. A cold fist clamped "round his heart. Just as long Fleur's still with me.

Katie folded her arms on the table and flopped onto them.

It's a shame I can't make Rita Skeeter disappear under the Dark Mark. Harry stabbed the yolk of his fried egg and watched it spread across his toast. Maybe I'll get lucky and she'll write an article about Voldemort's stub of a nose.

"Has it offended you?" Nev swung himself in beside him.

"It's not going to be a good day."

"Seen the paper, then. Well, it gets better, Umbridge first thing with ammunition to use against you."

"I can keep my cool around her," Harry said.

Even if it's only by imagining how her little hike through the Forbidden Forest is going to end.

"It still won't be any fun," Nev said. "I've heard from Gran this morning that there's another Educational Decree being passed today, something that lets Umbridge assess and dismiss the other teachers."

" Wonderful. At this rate the whole school will be carpeted and draped in pink, and students will be writing their exams in blood."

Nev poured himself some orange juice and took a long drink. "Have you spoken to Katie or Ginny?"

"I talked to Katie this morning. She showed me the article. Angelina and Alicia have since convinced her to avoid me, or are at least trying to make sure that she does."

Nev winced. "Ouch. Sorry, mate. Can't say I've ever split with anyone, but I'd guess it's not great." He glanced down the table. "She looks miserable."

"It worries me when she's quiet," Harry murmured.

"So you haven't spoken to Ginny, then?"

Harry shook his head. "I haven't seen her."

"It's a bit of a mess." Nev helped himself to bacon. "Ron's furious about it, of course, Dean too."

"I take it they blame me."

Nev shrugged and swallowed his mouthful of bacon. "I'm not sure, but probably."

The other Gryffindors brushed past them, Ginny in their midst, and went to sit with Katie and the twins.

Guess I don't matter, do I? Harry rolled his eyes and swallowed a flare of anger. Whatever. I've got more important stuff to deal with.

Fleur's pitch black eyes and heat-haze-wreathed palms flashed through his mind. And possibly a painful death.

He dropped his cutlery on his plate and swept out of the Great Hall, sweeping through the corridors, and taking his seat at the back of Umbridge's class. She glowered at him through the straps of her pink handbag.

The other students shuffled in and sagged into their seats.

Umbridge simpered. "Wands away. This lesson we will be discussing the theory of dark magic and why it is so dangerous to practise."

Says the woman who doesn't even know enough magical theory to conjure some tasteful clothes. You don't wear that shade of pink with that complexion. Harry wrinkled his nose at the pink cardigan and hummed. I think Fleur might be rubbing off on me.

"Dark magic is labelled by the Ministry as some of the most dangerous magic in existence," Umbridge recited. "There're a whole list of reasons that lead to spells being classified as dark, but the underlying similarity is that they are corruptive." Her gaze came to rest on Harry.

I suppose it will at least be amusingly contrived.

"A wizard who practises or is exposed to dark magic becomes addicted to it. They're twisted into dangerous, intolerable individuals with no respect for authority, society, or morals." Umbridge's stare didn't shift.

Harry gave her a long yawn.

Her face spasmed. "Half-breeds and dark creatures cannot be trusted for the same reason, dark magic affects them making them dangerous to their superiors. Things like werewolves, goblins, and veela influence all who consort with them."

A ball of ice tightened beneath his ribs. It ground at Harry's patience like the weight of a glacier, wearing it thin and fragile as paper. His fingers curled "round his wand and clenched tight about the hot ebony.

"Known dark spells to have this effect are of course spells like the Unforgivables. Those exposed to such magic become violent, amoral, and inhuman, influencing and perverting those around them until their infection can be purged. Sadly, such individuals often lead others very far astray from what could be considered proper behaviour, engaging in all sorts of lewd activities."

We'll have our revenge. Harry forced the glacier to fade into the endless void inside. Every insult now will make things sweeter. The more it hurts to have, the more satisfying it is to have it.

Ron's jaw snapped shut with an audible snap. The tips of his ears and the back of his neck turned scarlet.

"Do you have something to add, Mr. Weasley?" Umbridge's tone oozed sweetness.

He's going to explode.

The door creaked open and Professor Dumbledore stepped into the room. "I'm afraid, I need three of your students to come with me, Dolores. They will not be returning to the lesson."

Two patches of pink appeared on Umbridge's cheeks. "Might I inquire whom and why, headmaster?"

"You may." Dumbledore stood there with a serene smile on his face and studied the wall behind her.

"Whom do you require, headmaster?" Umbridge's sweetness slipped.

"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, and Mr. Potter."

Interesting. Harry picked up his bag, nodded to Nev, and rose to his feet. But probably not good.

"Why are you removing them from my lesson?" Umbridge asked.

Dumbledore's smile shifted into something stern. "I'm afraid that it's a family matter, Dolores, and as you are neither their head of house nor the headmaster, I cannot discuss it with you, especially not in front of other students."

A family matter. He grimaced. Ginny…

"Follow me, please." Dumbledore led them to the stature that led up to his office. "Ice Mice."

"Is Ginny… okay? Hermione whispered. "Have you seen her?"

Ron clenched his jaw. "Shut up, Hermione."

Mrs. Weasley and all her children save Percy stood in the headmaster's office. They turned sad, angry eyes and pale, drawn faces on Harry. Ginny clung to her mother's sleeve, sobbing. Mrs. Weasley patted her on the head.

"Earlier this morning, while assisting the Order in guarding something very important, Arthur Weasley lost his life." Dumbledore's tone turned quiet and grim. "He was attacked by Voldemort's familiar, the serpent, Nagini, outside the Department of Mysteries. He died before help could reach him. I am very sorry for your loss. He was a brave, good man that we will all dearly miss."

How many other brave, good people have died following you. Harry frowned. Why was his snake even there? Voldemort must be after something in the Department. That's what the Order are guarding.

Quiet murmurs filled the office. Harry lingered in his corner and let the melancholy seep away into the abyss.

Dumbledore folded his hands on the surface of his desk. "I fear many of us will have to make terrible sacrifices to see Voldemort defeated."

Meaning me, no doubt. Harry grimaced. Perhaps I should also get rid of whatever Voldemort's after while I'm down there, instead of letting Dumbledore send people to die for it.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he murmured, then took one last glance at the grieving Weasley family and Hermione, and slipped back down the stairs.

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