CHAPTER 45: FAMILY MATTERS

As shadows swirled amongst the pale, weather-worn headstones, and a thick fog rose around him, enveloping his knees in an ethereal embrace, Harry found himself traversing this eerie landscape. Rows of tombstones, their dark letters bearing witness to countless lives, stretched out before him, leading him towards a distant, flickering light.

With a gentle touch, he paid his respects to those who had come before him. James Potter. Lily Potter. Quirrell. The cold, smooth marble seemed to hold the secrets of the past, and the fog enveloped him like a shroud, creating an otherworldly atmosphere. Barty Crouch Jr. Peter Pettigrew. Bertha Jorkins.

Suddenly, a vivid, brilliant green flashed through the mist, resembling lightning streaking across the sky. A shadow lingered where the white headstones vanished into the fog, appearing less like a specter and more like a guardian, for the mist receded in its presence, as if the sun were burning away the morning fog.

Harry's wand slid into his hand, and he halted by another pale memorial. The name etched in ink-black letters read Dolores Umbridge, a name that did not deserve a moment's reverence. Harry walked on, leaving the memory of her etched into the cold, unfeeling marble.

The shadow that once lingered now morphed into a slender, jet-black wraith, extending one skeletal hand. As the fog rolled back, the surroundings shifted. He found himself standing amidst frozen mud, with pale pebbles stained in black, and a river fouled by the remnants of time. Faces swirled in the water's reflection: glimpses of Fleur's playful smirk, Katie's infectious grin, his parents waving to him from the Mirror of Erised, and a thousand other half-recalled moments shimmered beneath the water's surface.

The dead branches of a willow tree trembled on the far bank, and endless graves stretched beyond them, vanishing into the red dawn's horizon. Above it all, the specter hung, a slender silhouette against the backdrop of the rising crescent of the crimson sun. It spread its arms wide, and red light poured forth from its form, like sunlight bursting through the darkest storm clouds.

The chill of the mud seeped into his bones, as the endless stretch of graves extended far into the dawn, creating a sense of boundless emptiness that clawed its way up inside Harry's chest. It was a feeling he refused to succumb to. He pushed it down, determined not to revert to that vulnerable boy he once was.

Raising his wand, he pointed it at the distant shadow, his voice steady and resolute, "Avada Kedavra!" A brilliant emerald light flashed before his eyes, and he was jolted awake. Sunlight pierced through a gap in the curtains of his bed, and the faint melodies of birdsong reached his ears from outside.

Checking the time with a simple spell, he squinted at the silver numbers on his watch, "Tempus. Almost seven." Tomorrow would mark the beginning of the Christmas holidays.

Harry dressed, rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes, and quietly made his way down to the common room. Settling beside the crackling fireplace, he stretched his feet toward the flames, enjoying the warmth that washed over his skin.

His thoughts raced. "What's next?" He spun his wand around in his palm, relishing the fleeting warmth that rushed through him. "I need to keep a close watch on Umbridge. I need to uncover information about the Hall of Prophecies. And once I do, I'll need to find the right moment to send Umbridge off to follow the spiders."

A yawn escaped him, and he lazily waved his wand at the fireplace, shaping the smoke into a writhing serpent. His mind turned to Sirius. "The only person who can tell me about the Department of Mysteries is probably Sirius, but he's sticking with Dumbledore's policy of keeping me in the dark."

Twirling the serpent of smoke in circles above the flames, Harry pondered his options, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. "If Dumbledore gets ousted, then Sirius should be willing to share what I need to know about the Department of Mysteries. It all comes down to picking the right moment."

A small, sly smile tugged at his lips. "And I can't keep an eye on Umbridge myself." His smile warmed slightly. "But perhaps Umbridge would appreciate the focused attention of Hogwarts's only free elf." His thoughts turned to Dobby. "It'd be nice to have a reason to see the eccentric little elf again, even if Dobby is a bit peculiar."

Harry rose from the chair, casting a disillusionment charm over himself. With stealth, he exited the tower, heading toward the kitchens. He descended the steps to the basement level, taking them two at a time, and followed the well-lit corridor adorned with numerous paintings of delectable food.

A large picture of an assortment of fruits displayed within a gleaming silver bowl marked the end of the corridor. Harry recalled the advice he'd received from the twins about Katie's kitchen trips fueled by alcohol. "I just need to tickle the pear," he muttered to himself, his finger tentatively brushing the green fruit. Doubts nagged at him. "They better not have been pulling my leg. I already feel like an idiot doing this."

To his surprise, the green fruit responded with a giggle and transformed into a door handle, shifting like a mischievous spirit. Harry chuckled softly to himself and pushed open the door, revealing the Hogwarts kitchens.

Endless shelves adorned with brass and copper pans, along with worn, stained wooden tables, extended beneath the lofty, arched ceiling. A multitude of house-elves bustled back and forth in an odd assortment of pillow covers, patches of blankets, and mismatched cushion covers.

The door closed behind Harry with a solid thud, and hundreds of bulbous eyes swiveled to fixate on him. The nearest elf fumbled with a lemon, causing the yellow fruit to roll across the table and tumble onto the floor.

Creepy, Harry thought, as the elves' unblinking gazes remained locked onto him. He gathered his composure and spoke, "I'm looking for Dobby."

A pair of brilliant green eyes materialized with a loud crack. "The great Harry Potter calls!" Dobby bobbed his head eagerly, his ears flapping like broken bats' wings.

Harry lowered his voice and continued, "I have something I need your help with, Dobby. There's a teacher at this school who's been harming the students—"

Dobby's gaze bored into Harry's skull like a pair of unrelenting lasers. "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 in frustration, his brilliant plan unraveling. Dobby's unwavering loyalty to Hogwarts was a significant hurdle.

Dobby's green eyes remained unyielding. "Dobby could help if he had a different master."

Harry considered the elf's words. "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?"

Dobby nodded so vigorously that his chin bumped against his chest. "Yes! 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."

Harry pondered the elf's words. "How should I offer?" he inquired. "Is there something I have to do?"

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

The prospect of having Dobby bound to him was indeed enticing. He would be a loyal and valuable ally. Harry contemplated it further, but he was determined not to force Dobby into any sense of obligation. Nobody should be compelled to play the role of a hero.

"Would you like to be bound to me, Dobby?" Harry inquired, making sure the choice was entirely the elf's.

Dobby considered the question, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. "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."

Harry wasn't entirely sure if that was a 'yes' or not. He sought clarification, "I'm not sure if that's a yes?"

Dobby's response was eager and full of admiration, "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 wicked grin crossed Dobby's face, a reminder of the elf's deep-rooted animosity toward the Malfoys.

Harry couldn't help but edge back slightly, remembering how much Dobby despised the Malfoy family.

"Then I offer you my magic, Dobby," he declared, making his decision.

Dobby's small hand reached out, gripping Harry's wrist. The surge of magic was palpable, like a powerful wave that rose and subsided. Dobby shivered and straightened up. "Master Harry Potter is a very great wizard. His magic is stronger than Dobby imagined."

Relieved to confirm that Dobby indeed blinked, Harry let out a small sigh of gratitude.

With Dobby now bound to him, Harry presented his request. "Can you watch Umbridge for me, Dobby? 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 nodded, his eyes sparkling with determination. "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 couldn't help but smile, feeling a deep sense of gratitude toward Dobby. "Thank you, Dobby. Do you still want payment?"

Dobby's response was filled with profound emotion. "Master Harry Potter freed Dobby from – from–" His face twisted in hatred, struggling to articulate the word. "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."

Harry understood the depth of Dobby's gratitude and loyalty. "Well, if you ever change your mind, you only have to ask."

Gold is just gold, Harry thought, but loyal friends are far rarer.

"Dobby will go and start watching," Dobby said before vanishing with a loud crack.

The other elves crowded around Harry, offering him food and a lemon, their way of showing their appreciation. He thanked them and made his way back toward the tower, the chatter of awakening students growing louder around him.

As he walked, he inadvertently collided with Katie in the passageway behind the Fat Lady, causing him to stagger forward as he held onto her to prevent her from falling. In the process, the lemon slipped from his hand and rolled out of sight.

"Harry," Katie's voice quivered, and there was an undeniable sense of distress in her tone. "We have a problem, a big problem."

"Katie, we do?" Harry asked, growing concerned. He felt the warmth of her body against his, her fingers gripping his robes tightly as she held onto him. "What is it, Katie?"

Soft sobs escaped her as she buried her face in his robes, and Harry could feel the dampness from her tears.

A knot of worry and apprehension twisted in Harry's stomach. He hadn't seen her cry like this since they had broken up. He guided her back into the common room and settled into a chair, with Katie slumping onto the arm of it before sliding down into his lap.

She held out a copy of the Daily Prophet. Harry's eyes fell upon the headline, "Love Triangle at Hogwarts. Rita Skeeter sheds light!" The bottom dropped out of his stomach, and he knew they were in for a storm.

"Fuck," Harry muttered, his frustration evident.

Katie pointed to the third paragraph. "This bit."

Harry skimmed the paragraph and couldn't help but scowl at the words. "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."

Katie's tears continued to flow, and she pointed out another section. "It gets better. Much better."

Harry's heart sank as he read the next portion. "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 with 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 could hardly bring himself to read further as he noticed the ominous headline for the next paragraph, "Dark magic and debauchery in Hogwarts's dormitories."

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

A heavy weight pressed on Harry's chest. "Well, Fleur's definitely going to murder me this time," he mumbled.

His heart sank even further as he considered the repercussions of this scandal on Gabby and her family. "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."

Harry's voice was filled with remorse as he said, "I'm sorry. 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."

Dread coiled around Harry's heart, its sharp spines digging deep. He had survived being alone before, but he didn't want to go through it again. There was almost nothing he wanted less than to be isolated once more.

"The whole school is going to think I'm some kind of slut," Katie exclaimed, her anger palpable. "How did Skeeter even know about any of this?" She pointed 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."

Harry furrowed his brow, thinking. "It is word for word, isn't it? She must've been there." He pondered how Rita Skeeter managed to get past the school's protective wards. "Maybe she did it the exact same way."

Katie's face lit up with a wicked idea. "I think I might know how. I hope it's illegal. I'll destroy her."

Harry shook his head. "Perhaps she's an unregistered animagus."

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

Harry sighed, revealing his reluctance to pursue a vendetta. "I'm not going to try and expose her. She's useful to the Ministry at the moment, and she knows it. Until they stop needing her to discredit me, nothing will happen." However, thoughts of subtle retribution did cross his mind.

"So she's going to get away with this," Katie seethed, her frustration boiling over. "This article is going to make everything hell."

"It's not exactly ideal," Harry admitted.

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

Harry reminded her of their situation. "You've been manipulated and tricked by me, remember."

With resignation, Katie whispered, "There's really nothing we can do. We just have to live with it."

Harry tried to offer some reassurance. "Skeeter will eventually write something offensive about someone dangerous and get her just reward for it. 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," Harry acknowledged. "I don't think I'll be seeing very much of Ginny for the foreseeable future."

Katie wiped away her tears and tried to regain composure. "Urgh. I bet I look like a complete mess now, don't I?"

Harry mustered a weak grin and offered a thumbs up, attempting to inject a touch of humor into the somber atmosphere. "But a cute mess, if you had that seashell bra..."

Katie snorted in amusement. "Definitely can't make that joke too loudly now."

The girls' dormitories' stairs creaked as footsteps descended. Katie's eyes widened, and she quickly threw herself into the chair opposite Harry with a small squeak.

Alicia emerged from the darkness, her gaze sweeping over the room. She frowned upon seeing Katie. "Oh, you're down here, Katie." Her eyes darted to Harry, who did his best to look innocent. "Have you been crying?"

Harry decided it was best to give them some space. "I'm going for a walk to think," he said, collecting parchment, a quill, and some ink. "I'll let you and Alicia talk about things without an unwelcome audience."

With that, he left the tower, ignoring the whispers and headed for the Owlery. Along the way, he encountered an upper-year Slytherin carrying a basket of bright flowers.

Once he reached the Owlery, Harry took out some parchment and wrote an address on the envelope. He then penned a message to Rita Skeeter, offering her information about certain Hogwarts students' actions. He tore the bottom part of the parchment and cast the protean charm to link it to the envelope.

Harry added one more enchantment, imbuing the envelope with the ability to mimic nearby addresses on other mail and copy them into his pocket. Satisfied with his work, he knew he couldn't seek Fleur's advice on this matter.

A pang of regret and longing washed over him. She won't want to see me, he thought with a grimace, burying his emotions deep down.

Harry trudged his way back up to the tower, feeling a heavy burden on his shoulders. He folded the letter into the envelope, sealed it, and addressed it to Rita Skeeter. After instructing Hedwig, he handed her the envelope. "This is for Rita Skeeter, Hedwig. Make sure you deliver it to her home, not to her work or anywhere else."

Hedwig hooted softly, her amber eyes fixed on Harry. She fluffed her feathers, then took off into the sky to fulfill her delivery task.

With his mission completed, Harry decided it was time to have breakfast. Whispers and hushed conversations followed him on his way back to the Great Hall, filled with mentions of Katie, Ginny, and himself.

As he entered the hall, Harry steeled himself against the rumors and judgment that would inevitably follow. He selected a spot near the end of the Gryffindor table and served himself sausages, eggs, and toast.

Katie made her way down to the Great Hall a bit later. However, Alicia and Angelina intercepted her, preventing her from approaching Harry. Instead, they joined the twins, and Harry exchanged a glance with Katie down the table. She gave him a small shrug and began to meticulously cut a piece of toast into smaller and smaller fragments on her plate.

Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of regret for making the offer to Rita Skeeter. He sighed and continued to eat. "I survived before. I'll survive again," he told himself, though a cold grip squeezed around his heart. "Just as long as Fleur's still with me."

Katie, still struggling with the morning's revelations, eventually folded her arms on the table and rested her head on them, her plate of food untouched.

Harry, seeking some solace in his dark thoughts, fantasized about the possibility of making Rita Skeeter vanish under the Dark Mark. He 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."

Neville slid into the seat beside him, concern in his expression. "Has it offended you?"

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

Neville had clearly seen the Daily Prophet as well. "Seen the paper, then. Well, it gets better, Umbridge first thing with ammunition to use against you."

Harry spoke with a steely determination, "I can keep my cool around her."

Harry had his own ways of finding solace, even if it meant imagining the eventual outcome of Umbridge's little excursion into the Forbidden Forest. He responded to Neville with a wry grin, "It still won't be any fun."

Neville shared some unsettling news from his grandmother. "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."

Harry couldn't hide his sarcasm. "Wonderful. At this rate, the whole school will be carpeted and draped in pink, and students will be writing their exams in blood."

As Neville poured himself some orange juice, he asked, "Have you spoken to Katie or Ginny?"

Harry revealed his conversation with Katie. "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."

Neville winced, expressing sympathy. "Ouch. Sorry, mate. Can't say I've ever split with anyone, but I'd guess it's not great." He observed Katie at the table. "She looks miserable."

Harry couldn't help but worry about her. "It worries me when she's quiet."

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

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

Neville acknowledged the chaos this situation had caused among their friends. "It's a bit of a mess. Ron's furious about it, of course, Dean too."

Harry assumed they blamed him for the situation. "I take it they blame me."

Neville offered a non-committal shrug. "I'm not sure, but probably."

As other Gryffindors passed by, including Ginny, who joined Katie and the twins, Harry felt a pang of isolation. He rolled his eyes, suppressing his anger. "Guess I don't matter, do I? Whatever. I've got more important stuff to deal with." He recalled Fleur's captivating eyes and her warm hands.

He abandoned his breakfast, heading out of the Great Hall and making his way to Umbridge's class. He took a seat at the back, meeting the woman's glower with a steely gaze, unyielding in the face of her oppressive authority.

As the other students shuffled into their seats, Umbridge began her lesson. "Wands away. This lesson we will be discussing the theory of dark magic and why it is so dangerous to practice."

Harry couldn't help but find amusement in the situation, even if it was contrived. He took note of Umbridge's questionable fashion choices and hummed to himself. "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." A hint of Fleur's influence seemed to be rubbing off on him.

Umbridge continued, reciting the Ministry's classification of dark magic. Her gaze lingered on Harry, who decided to challenge her monotony with a yawn.

The professor's face twitched with irritation, but she pressed on. "A wizard who practices 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." Her intense stare remained locked on Harry.

Harry responded with a drawn-out yawn, making it clear he was unimpressed.

Umbridge's face spasmed, but she powered through. "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 chill tightened in Harry's chest as he ground his patience against the weight of Umbridge's words. His fingers instinctively wrapped around his wand, clutching it tightly.

Umbridge continued, singling out known dark spells like the Unforgivables and the corruption they wrought. "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 behavior, engaging in all sorts of lewd activities."

Harry steeled himself, realizing that every insult, every slight, would make their revenge all the sweeter. As the words cut into Ron, his friend's face flushed, and he clenched his jaw, the tension building.

Just when it seemed Ron might explode, Professor Dumbledore entered the room. "I'm afraid I need three of your students to come with me, Dolores. They will not be returning to the lesson."

Umbridge's cheeks turned pink in her discomfort. "Might I inquire whom and why, headmaster?"

With a serene smile on his face, Dumbledore simply studied the wall behind her, leaving her question unanswered.

Dumbledore's request to meet Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, and Mr. Potter had an air of concern that piqued Harry's curiosity and concern. He gathered his bag and nodded to Neville before rising from his seat. 'Why are you removing them from my lesson?' Umbridge asked.

Dumbledore's smile turned stern as he replied, '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.'

The phrase "family matter" sent a pang through Harry, causing him to grimace. He couldn't help but think of Ginny as they followed Dumbledore to the statue leading to his office. 'Ice Mice.'

Hermione's concern for Ginny was evident as she whispered, 'Is Ginny... okay? Have you seen her?'

Ron, his face tense, was quick to silence her, saying, 'Shut up, Hermione.'

When they reached Dumbledore's office, they were met by the somber faces of Mrs. Weasley and her children. Ginny clung to her mother's sleeve, crying, and Mrs. Weasley tried to console her.

Dumbledore's announcement was a heavy blow. 'Earlier this morning, while assisting the Order in guarding something very important, Arthur Weasley lost his life,' he said in a quiet and solemn tone. '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.'

Harry's thoughts turned to the Department of Mysteries and Voldemort's potential interest in it. 'Why was his snake even there? Voldemort must be after something in the Department. That's what the Order are guarding.'

A heavy silence filled the room as grief and shock settled in. Harry, standing in his corner, allowed the melancholy to fade away into the abyss. Dumbledore spoke again, 'I fear many of us will have to make terrible sacrifices to see Voldemort defeated.'

Harry couldn't help but grimace, knowing that he might be one of those making such sacrifices. He murmured, 'I'm sorry for your loss,' before taking one last glance at the grieving Weasley family and Hermione. He then quietly slipped back down the stairs, a sense of determination building within him. There was more at stake than ever before, and he felt the urgency to act, to protect those he cared about and to ensure the defeat of Voldemort.

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