I own nothing.
The Two Princes of Hogwarts
-Chapter Fifteen
Harry shifted awkwardly and glanced around the Gryffindor common room. Despite his best efforts, the male Gryffindor Prefect did not disappear nor did he fail to see Harry. "This is not what we agreed on."
"Look Nev. . ."
"No," Neville interrupted.
"We have a pass!" Ron insisted, holding up the piece of parchment as if it could ward away their classmate. "We were meeting with the Head Master."
"Did you have a pass when you left?" Neville demanded as he read their pass.
"Yes," Hermione said quickly. The prefect's eyes shot from the pass to her and she shrank back. That was terrifying in and of itself. "We actually did!"
"The Head Master will confirm this if I check with him?" he pressed. Harry and Ron glanced at each other.
"Have we ever forged anything before?" Harry asked.
"I don't. . .think so?" Ron replied, shrugging and jostling Arkin over his shoulder. The first year continued slumbering peacefully. "I mean, we haven't as a group. Hermione's the one who forges things."
"What?" Hermione squawked. "I never. . ."
"Nobody as young as you were gets to check out that many books from the restricted section," Ron interrupted. Hermione stared at him for a moment before turning on Harry. He shrugged.
"I do think Madame Pince knew, she just respected the audacity," he commented. "She also probably figured that you would get them one way or another, so by playing along she could keep you away from anything too dangerous." Hermione did a pretty good impression of a goldfish out of water.
"Sooo," Ron drawled. "It's kind of late Nev and we really should be getting to bed."
"Go," Neville groaned, thrusting their pass into Harry's hands.
"Later Hermione," Ron stated, giving the paralyzed young woman a quick side hug.
"Night," Harry added and patted her shoulder before they headed for the male dorms. "Think she'll recover?"
"Might take a while," Ron said. "She never takes it well when she finds out that she isn't the smartest person in the room."
"Yeah."
(:ii:)
Hermione had recovered by breakfast. Somewhat.
"Stop pouting and eat," Harry ordered.
"I am scowling!" Hermione insisted. Ron just focused on his breakfast. He had the wisdom of ages to not engage with the witch when she was testy.
"Hey guys," Cedric said as he appeared behind Hermione and Ron. "What's Hermione pouting about?"
"I am scowling! This is not a pout; it is a scowl! Pouting is for the petulant. I am enraged." Cedric glanced at the others in alarm.
"She's mostly petulant," Harry stated. "Don't sound the sirens yet." The older student sighed in relief.
"Okay," Cedric agreed with a shrug. "Anyway, I just got an owl from my dad and wanted to speak with you before the Prophet arrives." Hermione's lower lip returned to normal from its thrust forward position.
"Why?" she asked suspiciously.
"Because, when it comes, there isn't going to be any mention of Harry or the things happening at Hogwarts," Cedric explained.
"Why not?" Hermione snarled. "There's been loads of bullshit here!"
"Language," Cedric said firmly, making Hermione flinch and glance around at the younger students staring at her. She quickly pulled out her wand and cast their spells. "I'm still not going to let you curse in front of Arkin."
"Oh," Hermione grunted, glancing awkwardly at the first-year student before canceling the spells.
"It's fine!" Arkin said quickly. "My dad's friends curse all the time."
"What do your parents do?" Cedric asked.
"Dad tends to smack them and Mom stares at them until they apologize," Arkin admitted. "Uncle Sal made it the longest. He lasted thirty-five seconds before saying sorry, but he was shaking and sweating by then."
"Yeah, he's dumb like that," Cedric admitted. "Now, back to the topic, there will be no more bad news in the paper for the rest of the week."
"Why?" Hermione demanded again.
"My dad and Lie are worried about apathy setting in," Cedric explained. "You can't just dump terrible things on people constantly or they'll stop caring."
"I'll make them care," Hermione growled.
"Yeeeeeeah," Ron drawled. "Let's not start threatening people. Harry has a bad enough reputation."
"What?" Harry demanded. "Why do I have a bad reputation?"
"Well, you did scare a dragon," Cedric pointed out.
"One time!" Harry insisted. "And that dragon was a sweet heart."
"And there are all the Defense teachers," Ron admitted.
"They started it!" Harry snapped. "I have yet to actually attack any of them. I think. No. I know! I didn't even attack Quirrell. I just grabbed him and he caught on fire. That wasn't my fault."
"You grabbed him and he caught on fire, but it wasn't your fault," Cedric repeated. "That kind of sounds like your fault."
"You can't prove it!" Harry insisted. "Spontaneous human combustion is a thing. Maybe he would have burst into flame if I hadn't been there."
"No, it's not," Hermione stated. "That's pseudoscience bullshit."
"Actually, it's a blood curse that pops up randomly in a person's lineage," Luna corrected. "It's shockingly rare in muggles with magic in their bloodlines, but not as rare for witches and wizards. There are not tests for it, it just happens." Ron nodded and Hermione, Harry and Arkin stared at the small blonde. She just shrugged.
"What about Crouch?" Cedric asked, breaking any existential horror that was beginning to crop up.
"That was Fleur!"
"Not according to most of the students." Harry gaped at the Head Boy before he buried his face in his hands. "Yeah, you're kind of in another "Harry turned a professor into a werewolf" situation again."
"You turned a teacher into a werewolf?" Arking asked.
"No!"
"Not according to most the students," Ron grumbled, earning himself a swift kick to the shin.
"There was no werewolf-ing in this school," Harry said firmly, "at least, not concerning me."
"Werewolf-ening," Hermione corrected. "We did get werewolf-ed"
"It was an accident!" Harry insisted.
"So, anyway," Cedric announced, "there will be no more bad news until next week. We need to space it out so that we don't run the risk of causing apathy or worse."
"What's worse than apathy?" Hermione demanded.
"Worse is, people start to feel like they're being accused of not doing anything to stop the bad things," Cedric said after he took a deep breath. "Then they get angry because deep down they feel like they should do something, but won't because they don't want to take the first step to actually do something. Leaders are rare. Followers are common. Laziness is pervasive."
"So, they want a leader?" Hermione demanded. "I'll give them a leader."
"People don't want to admit that they're followers," Cedric stated quickly. "You're not going to win this. We need to spoon feed the people. We need to lead them without them knowing they're being led."
"Each year I understand dark lords more and more," the witch growled, causing all others present to glance at each other. As one, they decided that they hadn't heard that. Well, except for two of them
"She's got our vote," George stated.
"Yup," Fred added.
"You can't vote for dark lords," Cedric groaned, a little louder than necessary.
"People voted for Fudge didn't they?" Fred asked, just as loudly. "Secret police and torturing school kids, isn't it?"
"Fudge isn't a dark lord," Cedric stated. "He's an incompetent covering up his failing with questionable actions." The Head Boy nodded to them and rose. "We'll speak later." Harry felt his jaw drop as Cedric covertly nodded to the two Weasleys and strode back to the Hufflepuff tables. The twins nodded back subtly and went back to what they were working on. He glanced around and realized that no one else had noticed that, but groups of students at all the tables were now huddled together whispering to each other.
"Oh, we have got to try to figure out subtlety," he grumbled.
"What?" Hermione asked, caught off guard by his statement.
"Subtlety," Harry repeated. "That things where people get stuff done without anyone knowing they're doing stuff."
"I can do that!" Hermione insisted.
"Oh, sure. Blue fire balls are super subtle," Ron mumbled, picking at his breakfast. "Nobody can know if you're doing something when everything is ash."
"I will not be lectured about subtlety by a six-foot three-inch fire crotch that's built like a brick outhouse!" Hermione snapped.
"Yeah," Ron agreed with a chuckle and he straightened up in his seat to look down on all of them. "God, you lot are so small nowadays. Well, so is everybody else, I guess."
"I'm very subtle," Luna stated simply.
"What are you doing subtly?" Harry asked curiously.
"If I told you, it wouldn't be subtle now, would it?" Luna asked. "You'll know when I'm done." Harry glanced at his other friends. Luna's statement seemed to have set off enough warning bells that their argument had fallen apart completely.
"Please?" Hermione ventured.
"Harry'll know," Luna said simply before going back to her breakfast. "It will be glorious." She frowned. "I mean, for me. It will probably be traumatizing for Harry. The rest of you will forget this before the new year."
"Oh good, I always need more trauma for anyone trying to poke around in my head," Harry grumbled. Hermione and Ron glanced at each other and desperately tried to figure out if he was being sarcastic or not.
(:ii:)
True to Cedric's statement, and much to Hermione's irritation, there were no more bad stories in the paper for the rest of the week, including the weekend. Well, excepting the Daily Prophet's auguries declaring that a celebrity had died.
The witch in question had been most annoyed at her third reported death in nine months.
That led them right up to their first official study group.
"But what about Cecil?" Harry demanded as he walked towards the agreed upon meeting place.
"Cedric?" Ron ventured.
"Cecil!"
"Please tell me you didn't name your snail," Hermione groaned.
"I should have known that this would be a problem when you were painting it," Ron groaned.
"Cecil deserves to feel fancy!" Harry shrieked, "and he came back with an eye stalk gone! He's lucky he's a snail and it will regrow! Did I fail him or did something do that to him where he went? No, where I sent him without anything to protect him! What if he starts to hate me like Dudders?"
"Snails are hermaphroditic," Luna pointed out.
"I don't care. Cecil is my friend and I failed them." The small blonde smiled and patted his shoulder. "They can also still deserve to feel fancy."
"Cecil would be honored you care about them. . .if they could understand such concepts," she stated.
"You think so?" Harry asked.
"I know so," Luna said firmly, "and they won't get mad because they lack the neurons to feel anything that complex." That at least seemed to calm Harry down enough to start paying attention.
"Oh, wow. I wasn't expecting this many people."
"Not every day you get to see the Mad Man of Hogwarts throw spells around," Hermione commented. Harry wheeled about on her with a gasp of outrage. She just shrugged. "Everybody likes a circus. Besides, if the side show gets them here, who cares as long as they're learning."
"I am not your dancing monkey to distract people while you over explain simple concepts!" Harry snapped. "I am here to assist in a totally normal study group on fifth year Defense Against the Dark Arts!"
"Glad to hear it," Neville said, startling all of them.
"Why are you getting so good at being sneaky?" Ron hissed. "Is it because of Harry? Is it because he Stochholm'ed you all summer?"
"Why are all of you horrible at paying attention to what's in front of you?" Neville countered, choosing to ignore the comment about the summer. "You lot almost walked into me!"
"Bad guys tend to be behind you," Harry explained, "except when they're bragging, but if they're bragging than you usually have a lot of time to figure out what to do. Sometimes they even turn their back on you and backs are the best places for knives."
"I am trying really hard not to weirded out by you kids, so I would prefer that you keep such statements to yourselves," John stated as he stepped forward. The teacher looked around awkwardly for a long moment. "Although, if you ever need to speak with an adult about something that is disturbing you, I am. . .available and will do my best to aid you or find you someone who can." Harry and his friends all glanced at each other.
"Thank you, Auror," Neville stated finally. "That. . .actually means a lot."
"Yeah," Harry agreed plainly. The older man nodded solemnly, clearly uncomfortable, but making a real effort that most people wouldn't, even as teachers or other professionals that dealt with children.
"Anyway, when you get the thousand yards stare, don't forget about the guy ten feet in front of you," John said firmly. "Do you have a lesson plan?"
"A what?" Ron asked.
"Here," Hermione stated, pushing a scroll into the man's hands. He opened it and glanced through it.
"All the topics relevant to the OWLs," he commented approvingly.
"Professor Flitwick helped us with it," Hermione stated.
"I would have helped you," John said.
"This was before you came Auror," Hermione stated. The older man nodded and handed the scroll back.
"Is there anything you're unclear on?"
"Some of the practical aspects of the spells for later in the year," Hermione admitted. "I get the theoretical and the wand movements, but I can't quite get a handle on them in practice."
"I would hope not," John grunted. "It'd make school and teachers a little redundant if an overly zealous student could learn everything from a book."
"I guess," Hermione managed, looking a little relieved after being seemingly annoyed at the first part of his statement.
"And you," John stated, turning to Arkin.
"Me?" the younger student squeaked.
"Yes, you," John replied. "Don't get too far ahead of yourself. This is a study group for fifth years. Don't forget that you will be tested on first year spells. Those spells are the foundation of Defense. Master them before you put too much effort into anything else."
"I understand."
"Good. That goes for you, too Miss Lovegood." Luna nodded. "Well, if you are prepared to begin than I will leave you to it," John stated. "I will request to speak with you privately if there is something I disagree on. I hope you will be understanding and not take offense."
"I won't Professor," Hermione agreed.
"Auror," John corrected and made his way to the back of the mass of students and summoned himself a comfy chair and large beach umbrella.
"He does have a way with words," Cedric commented as he stepped forward.
"In a world of deception, whether intentional or not, he just pushes forward," Luna agreed, "probably why he gets cursed so much."
"He gets cursed a lot?" Harry asked in shock.
"Holds the record I think," Ron answered.
"The first man in the door is always the first hit," Luna responded. "It takes a special kind of person to keep volunteering."
"Fair enough," Harry agreed after they all took a moment to digest that statement. "Well, I guess we can get started. . ."
"Attention!" Hermione cried as she strode towards the nominal front of the crowd.
"She's loving this," Harry groaned.
"Here comes the bossiness," Ron added.
"I'm sure it won't be that bad," Cedric protested. He flinched back as he was suddenly the center of their attention. "Or, she's extremely bossy."
"Yes," Luna allowed. The crowd started to settle, somewhat cowed by the woman who had been a shy, bullied girl only a few years earlier.
"Hem, hem." The obnoxious noise was repeated several times before enough attention was actually drawn. "I am here to declare that this gathering is against Educational Decree Twelve!" Everyone turned and stared at the shortest person in attendance.
"I'm sorry, what?" Hermione asked in pure confusion.
"Study groups are illegal at Hogwarts as stated by Educational Decree Twelve!" Dolores Umbridge declared as she struggled to force her way through the gathered students.
"We're not allowed to study?" Neville asked in confusion. "We can't study in a school?"
"You are not allowed to form large groups to study," Dolores declared as she tried to muscle her way into Hermione's position. The taller woman stared down at her as the High Inquisitor tried to shoulder her aside. It took the woman an embarrassing amount of time to realize that she could not casually move the student and that resorting to more direct means probably wouldn't end well for her either.
"Excuse me," a voice rang out above the low buzz of confusion. Everyone turned to see that John had risen from his seat and began striding forward. The students parted quickly for him. "Are you banning students from gathering to study a topic?"
"The Ministry has decided that large groups of students studying by themselves could perpetuate poor learning," Dolores announced. It was hard to tell if she was trying to put her chin, what chin she had, in the air or looking up at the auror. John Dawlish's eye twitched rather violently and he turned around. After a few deep breaths he turned back to the students.
"I am deeply disappointed in your performance!" he announced.
"What?" Dolores sputtered.
"Not you," John said with what was only very nearly a sneer. "I am disappointed by my students. You are falling behind in my class."
"Professor. . ." Hermione tried.
"Auror," John interrupted, "and you will be silent Miss Granger." He looked at the rest of them. "Therefore, I am declaring that all of my fifth year students are getting remedial lessons on Sundays." Harry glanced at his friends and saw the dawning realization on their faces. "Potter, Weasley, Granger, Lovegood and Diggory. You are performing adequately; therefore, I am asking for your assistance in this effort." That seemed to kickstart Dolores.
"You can't. . ."
"I can't assign extra lessons to underperforming students in my own class?" John interrupted. "I think that you'll find that I absolutely can, High Inquisitor." The woman sputtered and puttered for a long moment before trying to slink away.
"Did he just. . ." Harry managed.
"Holy shit," Cedric grunted.
"You said a bad word!" Ron cheered. He became a lot more somber suddenly. "Oh. You said a bad word. Uh, oh. That's probably bad."
"Now, let us resume this remedial lesson," John announced with a clap of his hands that made them all jump. He turned to Hermione. "Please continue Miss Granger." A wave of understanding and smirks seemed to ripple across the gathered students to replace the looks of confusion and anger.
There was nothing students loved more than getting one over on a teacher, even if that meant studying more.
(:ii:)
"We may have a problem." Amelia looked up and stared at the man poking his head into her office.
"I have a lot of problems," she stated. "Is this a new problem?"
"It's a Hogwarts problem," Kingsley stated. "Dawlish may have done something."
"I thought Dawlish was the kind of person who didn't do something," Amelia said.
"I thought he was," Kingsley admitted. "You should probably talk to him about it."
"Tell him to report to the office," Amelia ordered as her hand came up to pinch the bridge of her nose.
"He's already here," Kingsley stated. "He came in order to explain himself personally."
"Oh," Amelia grunted. She had forgotten the caliber of the man she had sent. "Send him in." The door opened all the way and John Dawlish strutted into her office in his formal auror robes. Kingsley followed along, probably out of curiosity. "Explain." The man crashed to a halt in front of her desk and fixed his eyes at the wall over her head.
"Yes Madame," the man stated, his jaw set and his back ramrod straight. "You ordered me to stay out of Umbridge's way. I violated that order today."
"What did you do?" Amelia pressed.
"Today, a group of my students attempted to hold a study group," John stated, "High Inquisitor Umbridge attempted to intervene with Educational Decree Twelve which states that large groups of students are not allowed to gather to study."
"What?" Amelia sputtered. "The Ministry outlawed study groups in a school?"
"Yes Madame," John replied. "I declared the study group to be remedial lessons." Amelia stared at the man. "I apologize for my actions and will accept any punishment for failing to follow orders."
"You're apologizing for protecting a study group?" Amelia managed.
"I'm apologizing that my actions drew government attention against orders," John said. "At this point, I am a professor and I will make sure that all of my students are capable of protecting themselves against dark magic." Amelia glanced at Kingsley, but the large man shrugged.
"I see," she admitted. "I think we can trust in your judgement of this situation."
"Thank you, Madame," John stated. He reached into his robes and produced a folder to set on her desk.
"What is this?"
"It's the official complaint I want to file with the ICW education department about recent attempts to change the curriculum at Hogwarts after I speak with a few more professors."
"In addition to drawing government attention against orders, you want to sic the Internation Confederation of Wizards on her?" Amelia sputtered.
"That bitch tried to push one of my students," John hissed.
"Which one?" Kingsley demanded.
"Hermione Granger."
"What?" Amelia croaked. "Granger? Witch about this tall, curly short hair, silver eyes and possibly the kidnapper and torturer of Rita Skeeter?"
"I have seen no evidence of those allegations," John said simply.
"That's because she's good," Kingsley replied.
"Well, if there is no evidence than I see no need for it to be brought up," John said. "The law says innocent until proven guilty and we are a law enforcement division, are we not?"
"Pushing Granger?" Amelia demanded, ignoring the man's question with the ease of someone used to going around the law. "Does she have no survival instincts?"
"Umbridge did go after Potter," Kingsley pointed out, "even if she doesn't understand what that means."
"Potter will kill for his old god. . ."
"Goddesses," Kinglsey interrupted.
Amelia stared at him for a long moment before continuing, "not whatever Granger can do to people. Didn't you say that sometimes dead is better?"
"I did," Kingsley agreed. Amelia sighed and turned to the other man.
"Are you comfortable with taking the heat for this?" she asked.
"Madame?" John asked.
"I'm not ready to go toe to toe with the Minister," Amelia admitted. She glanced at Kingsley. "We've been working some angles from our side, but nothing overt. Are you comfortable with me disavowing your actions? I will back you if you are not."
"No. I'm fine," John replied, the corners of his lips twitching slightly upward. There was also a certain tone in his voice and Amelia glanced at Kingsley again. She had heard that tone before. It was the tone of a person that had just been handed an unmarked wand and a list of people that had wronged them. Kingsley was staring at his fellow auror in confusion as well. "So, I'm cleared to act on my own? I won't check in with you again."
"You're cleared," Amelia stated. She regretted every word as they left her mouth.
"Will that be all?"
"That will be all." The man nodded and turned, leaving the office in a long moment of silence.
"Was he SPIE?" Amelia demanded.
"I don't. . .think so," Kingsley stated.
"You don't think so?" Amelia repeated.
"Look, we were all in separate. . ."
"Yes?" Amelia pressed.
"We were all assigned to separate kill teams," Kingsley admitted hesitantly. "The aurors I brought back were all on my team or people I had run into on operations. Individual teams knew very little about each other as a security protocol."
"Did I just turn loose a SPIE killer in Hogwarts?" Amelia demanded.
"I don't like the term "killer". Dark wizards and witches were killed yes, but as a last resort." Amelia glared at the man and he let out an annoyed sigh. "Dead men tell no tales, you know? Besides, once they were in our cells, anything could happen."
"If I called Dawlish back, would he admit to it?"
"No," Kingsley said.
"Is there any way to check?"
"No."
"Would Sal know?"
"Yes."
"Would he tell?"
"No."
"Great," Amelia grumbled. She pondered on that for a moment. "What about Mad Eye?"
"I'll save you the lecture about constant vigilance and just say no."
"Fair," Amelia sighed. She frowned at something. "Wait, did you say "our cells"? As in, SPIE had its own prison?"
"I thought you didn't want details," Kingsley commented.
Amelia sighed again and stuffed the papers she had been considering signing about sending certain prisoners to a separate series of cells into a bottom drawer.
She was seriously starting to think that this was how her department had ended up with unregulated kill squads over a decade earlier.
Instead of just the one she was pretending didn't exist now.
-End
(:ii:)
-Author's drunken rambles. Who are you? What are you doing in my house? Just wait till my husband gets home!
Jokes aside, Happy New Year. I have finally returned from the eclipse and man, can I tell you how overrated that bullshit totally. . .yeah I'm joking again. I can absolutely see that kind of shit making people sacrifice a few virgins to it.
One of the coolest things I've seen in my life and I got to do it with my parents and my dog lying on a field in a pretty little town on a warm day while eating a Sheetz pretzel hoagie. Great times all around and possibly the last big thing I do with my father that he'll remember. Now, if only the fucking Northern Lights that keep getting seen in Delaware would actually get their damn selves seen from where I am. I have a bucket list damn it and that shit would get a lot cheaper if the Northern Lights came to me, despite that probably meaning that the environment is turbo fucked.
If we're going to death march onto the destruction of our only planet, being led by a bunch of rich and/or stupid dipshits who will be dead before shit goes so wrong they can't deny it, at least I should get a pretty fucking light show from it.
Oh, hey Wawa? Pretzel buns? I mean, come on now. That is just smart business.
Also, Greenville, PA. . .lovely place. I would absolutely retire to a place like that if I wasn't already planning on retiring to a hut on a mountain in West Virginia and awaiting my Thermopylae with the ATF. If I can retire that is. Not looking great for my generation. The retirement part, not the Thermopylae part. That part looks sporting. Just need a few belt fed uppers and some binary triggers.
Not to make excuses, but my father is not doing well and wrangling an old man who thinks you are trying to gaslight him by explaining that his wife and that girl he's been hanging out with are the same person. Also, neither is his mother.
His mother is not here. That is what we have decided since none of us wants to keep explaining that his mother, my beloved grandmother, is dead and has been dead for about fifteen years.
Also, I found some of my mom's jewelry and mentioned to him that I was going to take it to "my mom". He's convinced that it belongs to "some lady" he brought over and threatened to fucking kill me if I fucked up his relationship.
His words.
Good times.
So, here's to making 2025 the year that I really wanted 2024 to be. . .and also not dying by confused octogenarian.
Don't worry. All my guns are locked up. Except the Luger, but if he can find that thing, find and buy .30 Luger for it and load it. . .well shit. I'll just be impressed as I die.
Annoyed he could do that much on his own, but impressed. Also annoyed he could find .30 Luger when I couldn't.
Fuck I hate being a purveyor of obsolescent and obscure calibers.
Thanks for sticking around OMAKE!
"There he is!" Harry cheered as he stood up. Arkin blushed a little as he ducked into the private room in Hog's Head Pub. He straightened up and banged his head on the ceiling anyway. "The new Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement!"
"Hear, hear!" Ron added, raising his glass. Harry, Hermione and Luna raised theirs as well.
"Thank you, Minister," Arkin replied, bowing to Hermione flamboyantly, "and Prime Minister," he added, bowing to Ron, "and Headmaster," he continued, bowing to Harry, "and of course, Luna."
"Yes!" Luna cheered, returning the bow, though bending the wrong way. They all laughed and drank as Arkin flopped down at the table.
"God, the paperwork," he moaned.
"Don't even start!" Ron snapped jestingly. "You just started leadership paperwork. The rest of us have been suffering for years." They all burst into laughter at that and the party moved into full swing. Harry noticed Luna sitting by herself and watching the festivities with a smirk.
"You alright?" he asked.
"And I'm done," Luna said simply.
"Done? Done what?" Harry asked.
"Being subtle," Luna replied. Harry stared at her in confusion for a moment before his jaw dropped and he glanced at his friends. "You know," Luna began, "the hard part wasn't getting magical England to vote for Hermione, it was getting Ron to run for Prime Minister."
Harry's entire world tilted dangerously. "You were the easiest. All I had to do was point Umbridge at you at the wrong time in the wrong place and your luck took care of the rest. I didn't really want to rely on it at first, but Fate does love to destroy your enemies. I'd be careful if I were you, I think she might have a little crush."
"Umbridge?" Harry squeaked.
"No. Worse. Fate."
"You. . ." Harry began.
"Actually, I'm only telling you this because no one will believe you and you won't say anything because you know that's true," Luna added. "Well, actually, they will believe you after some time, but will continue to deny because that makes everyone happier. Like I said all those years ago, this will be a little traumatizing for you."
"But. . .why?" Harry sputtered.
"Because it was fun," Luna stated, "and you're cute when you're confused." The shorter woman reached up to boop his nose before she pulled his flask from the exact pocket, he kept it in. She even opened it easily despite the reverse thread and locking charms on it for him before turning to walk to their friends.
"Luna!" The blonde turned to look at him. "We're friends, right?"
"The best of friends," Luna said with a smile.
"Oh, good. I'd hate to have to battle you to the death."
"Awe, I'd hate to have to battle you to the death too. Fate is such a jealous bitch." Harry nodded cheerfully and then began trying to drain his endless flask.
-End
Hey. What was Luna's middle name? Oh, Alpharius. Forgot that.
And another to try to make up for missing multiple updates OMAKE!
It was a warm and miraculously non-rainy spring day in Scotland and Gabriel was enjoying the day to its fullest. The mass of additional fans she had gained after she had won the Triwizard Tournament were even off doing something other than mobbing her.
It was a good day. That was, until she heard the terrified shrieks of the under years.
"Troll!" someone howled. Gabrielle spotted the beast as it stomped out of the forest towards a gaggle of younger year students.
"Run!" she howled at the younger years as she sprinted towards them. Two students remained frozen in their terror as the rest scattered in safe directions. Gabrielle managed to get between them and the troll and threw out a stunner. The crimson spell dinged off the troll's face and it didn't even bother slowing. Her sister's battering ram spell did a bit better, but only in drawing the troll's full attention to her. Gabriel raised her wand to throw another spell as it came within club range, but her whole world turned upside down in an instance. She suddenly found her face pressed into something warm and firm. She looked up and found herself staring into the roguish face of the man she had had a crush on for most of her life. The Headmaster of Hogwarts looked down at her with a cocky smirk.
"Not bad Gabby," Harry Potter rasped in the manliest voice she had ever heard, the arm around her waist tightening and pulling her even closer to him, pushing certain sensitive bits against hard muscle. "Now let me show you how to use magic on a troll, courtesy of Ron." Harry looked at the troll with a feral grin and stabbed his wand at a nearby tree. "Wingardium leviosa!" The tree wrenched itself from the ground and Harry swung his wand at the troll. The whole tree slammed into the beast's head and laid it out upon the lawn. "Thanks for the help, Viktor." Gabriel glanced over her shoulder and saw Viktor Krum with both of the younger students held firmly under his arms.
"I still say that you run too fast to be natural or magical," the taller man grumbled.
"That's the trick Viktor," Harry said, "I don't need to run to be fast."
"Do you headmasters practice being enigmatic and cryptic?" the former champion quidditch player demanded as he set the two students down.
"Yes," Harry said plainly. "Minera scheduled me a whole hour from nine to ten to practice being cryptic." Viktor stared at him for a long moment. "Others need less time, but I'm still relatively new."
"I still have no idea how much of what comes out of your mouth is bullshit," he said finally. Harry laughed at that and Gabriel felt the vibrations running through her body. Harry looked down at her, his eyes meeting hers and his smile becoming kinder.
"Good work Gabby. Are you okay?"
"I'm. . .uh. . .I'm," Gabby stuttered. Harry immediately thrust her out at arms' length and looked her up and down.
"I don't see any injuries, but let's get to the hospital wing to have you checked out." Gabriel squealed as she was scooped up in a bridal carry. "Minerva! Get Pomona and see about replanting that tree. Snape, go get Hagrid and have him remove that thing. Both of you, please."
"I'll see to it Headmaster," Minerva stated.
"Go fu. . ." Severus trailed off as Harry's head snapped around to stare at him. "I understand and I will take care of it, Headmaster."
"Thank you both," the school's leading trouble solver and also trouble causer said simply. "I will take me leave now."
-End
Love you all,
-Uncle Jack
See you in April! Hopefully. I got so much trauma dumping to do!
It'll be great.
Also, tried to upload this last night and ff went pbbbt. Well pbbbt you too ff. Imma unload this against my schedule cuz fuck you.