Author's Notes:
I have over 100k words written for this dumb story and I haven't even gotten to the scene I've been daydreaming about for months. Why did I need all this build up? I keep having to throw other things in before it can happen. Writing an entire story is sooooo difficult, but only because all this hard work is specifically targeting my ability to write and publish the 1 am lying in bed fantasies that I've been picking the perfect accompanying song for since December of last year! But I need all these other things for plot reasons! This will be a coherent and satisfying story once I'm done with it, even if I have to drag it there kicking and screaming.
On a completely different tangent, man, you would not believe the fucked up shit I wrote last weekend. Disgusting. I love it. Kronnis is a little freak. Actually had to tone it down twice. Twice! And its still firmly in 'ok this is deranged and sick' territory. Every day I mourn my decision to let them side with Dumbledore and Harry over Voldemort. The fun they could have had…
The Emperor's mental form of communication was well received by Madam Pince. Following her as she wandered the maze of bookshelves that made up the Hogwarts library, Kronnis thought it was safer to let his partner do all the talking. He'd seen how the librarian's temper flared and her tongue scorched any students she found whispering in her domain.
Texts were plucked off shelves, stacked in a hovering pile that quickly grew to half of Kronnis' size, and were then signed out at the front desk. They left with a nearly complete collection of textbooks covering first-year classes and third-year electives, and a jest that they'd be back before she knew it.
Their acquisitions were levitated along with them to Ancient Runes, another boring class that appeared unprofitable, where students learned dead alphabets and forgotten languages. What was the point? Where was the demand? Was there a booming translation industry in the wizarding world? Was this some precursor to a later college of archaeology they hadn't been told about?
He couldn't figure it out, and spent the rest of the class sharing this inane line of questioning with the Emperor. As much as the illithid wanted to learn everything that might give them an edge, even he struggled with how to make use of this subject. The textbooks' contents didn't reveal any interesting topics to anticipate, and so the class was struck from their schedule, to be attended only in cases of extreme boredom.
With an hour to kill before Umbridge's class started, they returned to their rooms, where a collection of letters awaited their attention. It had doubled in size from yesterday, when they'd been too busy in Baldur's Gate to address any. Splitting the pile with the Emperor, Kronnis rolled up his sleeves and got to work.
He read countless introductions. Pompous invitations. Demands and questions. One marriage proposal was shoved his way with amusement, and a slightly deranged missive was puzzled over, sent by a wizard who seemed to think that they were aliens intending to whisk him away to the stars.
Most of these were torn up – they simply couldn't reply to every request for their attention. Letters from businesses were put aside to receive a generic response of 'thank you, we will look into this once we have a better grasp on your culture and economy'. The Emperor would go over those with a fine-toothed comb at a later date, evaluating favorable opportunities and partnerships.
Several individuals had offered to meet with them, often with various suggestions or detailed lists of how mutual assistance could be beneficial. The most promising of these were placed into a separate stack and would be responded to later that evening. Kronnis was scanning one such letter from a previous professor at Hogwarts, some wizard named Horace Slughorn, when a paper highlighted with the faint purple glow of telekinesis floated into his vision.
"What's this?" he asked, grabbing it for closer examination.
"An interview request. The journalist proposed we meet at Hogwarts next month. She intends to further question us on Baldur's Gate and provide us the opportunity to address misinformation and speculation."
Kronnis' quick scan turned up additional information not mentioned in the Emperor's summary – the signature identified the sender as Rita Skeeter, a writer for the Daily Prophet. "I hope she comes prepared with a list of rumors for us to address. I'd love to hear what's being said outside of Hogwarts." Harry should be able to update them with the current gossip circulating the student body, but his curiosity regarding what the rest of the country thought of them wouldn't be so easily sated.
Gently pulling itself free from his hands, the page floated back to the desk that the Emperor had commandeered for his work. The scratching of a quill on paper indicated that time was being blocked off for the interview – a response written and a note added to their calendar.
The stack of remaining letters was dramatically smaller by the time they had to leave, but Kronnis was sure it would balloon back to its previous size by this time tomorrow.
Umbridge's classroom was impossibly neat. Desks lined up perfectly, spaced just the right distance apart. Each of the two copies of Defensive Magical Theory were pristinely centered before the pairs of chairs tucked under the dark-stained wood. In the back, a separate table had been set up, with complimentary quills and parchment.
A friendly wave, calculated to be a warm enough gesture to satisfy cordial expectations, but not too overbearing as to disrupt professionalism, was sent to Umbridge at the front of the class.
The lesson started simple enough. She explained the purpose of the class and then the syllabus. Chapter one of the text was titled 'Basics for Beginners' – promising indeed for Kronnis, who had yet to learn about the patterns of wizarding combat. Non-offensive responses and conflict mediation would be covered later on, along with a multitude of other tactics to creatively beg for your life without retaliating.
Promptly after this explanation was finished, Umbridge commanded the class to turn back to the first chapter and spend the rest of the class reading it. Kronnis stared for a second, blinking. A sharp tug on her thoughts, almost careless, revealed that she was serious.
"Ah, I see." It appeared the Emperor had done the same, realizing that this would be the extent of her 'teaching'.
Kronnis fought the frown climbing onto his face, flipping pages to more closely examine the rest of the text. He'd seen Umbridge's thoughts on the book, but had expected perhaps just a bit more actual instruction. No matter, he was literate and perfectly capable of educating himself. His response to his partner was private. "The chapter on 'Hexing and Haggling' seems to actually go over some helpful definitions. Looks like there's a couple others that might have theory on different types of spells."
The Emperor hummed, taking a minute to turn to a different chapter on the benefits of negotiation over retaliation. "Based on the miniscule understanding the author has on appropriate negotiation techniques, I would be hard-pressed to expect much from the rest of this."
"We're going to have to think of a way to compliment her about this. Maybe something about how diplomatic it is?"
"Perhaps," his partner mused, turning back to the first chapter. "Regardless, we will follow along for now."
They turned their attention to actually reading the chapter in full, although it was quickly skimmed once they realized it was more or less a disappointing essay touting the benefits of non-violent conflict resolution. Skipping ahead to the next one proved fruitful. 'Common Defensive Theories and their Derivation' spoke about different kinds of spells, and how to identify them in order to pick the best defensive strategy. The strategies themselves were useless, amounting to various verbal de-escalation techniques, but at least they had finally located some relevant information.
Curses, hexes, and jinxes. Apparently, all different types of dark charms with distinguishing characteristics. They'd already read about several dark spells in Grimmauld Place, but the nuance between a curse and a jinx hadn't been explained, assumed common knowledge by the authors.
According to this text, jinxes tended to be minor inconveniences, and were cast with subtler wand movements. Hexes were more likely to cause major issues, some examples being the knee-reversal hex and eyelid-swelling hex. Kronnis thought these interesting, although nowhere near as effective as a quick Fireball.
The strongest of the three were curses, wicked in intent and dangerous in effect. It took them long confused minutes to realize that the book did not actually appear to go into detail on them. A quick check of the index and table of contents confirmed their suspicions. There was a whole chapter dedicated to a discussion on counter-jinxes – disappointingly sparse on actual spell details – but it nonetheless at least provided definitions and explanations. Curses, on the other hand, were only given the briefest of mentions.
Distracted as they were by their search, Umbridge's 'hem, hem' from the front of the room surprised them. She dismissed the class and students slowly slumped out of their chairs, eyes glazed and bodies stiff.
Dreading the conversation to come, Kronnis joined the Emperor in walking to the front of the room. "You have wonderful command over your class; I appreciated the lack of distractions," he started, honeyed words dripping from the easy smile affixed to his face. "We were actually able to read ahead a bit. The analysis on different types of dark charms was fascinating, although I find myself wondering where more information on curses might be located?"
The smile Umbridge had sported upon their approach turned condescending as she thanked him. "Oh, I don't see a reason to teach students about curses, seeing as they'll never encounter them."
Kronnis had nothing nice to say to that. The subtle insult he might normally wield if he heard an opinion this moronic back home was swallowed for diplomacy's sake, digesting bitterly in his chest.
Sensing his failure to respond, the Emperor handled their recovery. "Efficient. Many classes bloat their material with irrelevant content. I noticed there were quite a few chapters covering conflict resolution." A rather large understatement. "Impulsivity is ripe in youths; I must say that I approve of educating them on the use of soft skills, rather than relying on spellwork to solve problems. My only hope is that your lessons are taken to heart."
Appalling. The Emperor was right, of course – in a twisted way. If wielded correctly, words were just as powerful as spells in achieving goals. The point was moot, however, as the text had only the most barebones and useless instructions on how to go about negotiating your way out of murder and maiming.
"I'm glad you agree. There's no reason for them to ever be in any danger." The words were said as if the very idea of self-defense were preposterous. "But enough about my class, how have you been finding the others so far?"
"We feel a bit spoiled for variety, to be honest," Kronnis joked. "Potions and Charms have been the most interesting so far, but it's still early in the week. We actually had to stop by Baldur's Gate yesterday for a preliminary report, so we haven't had much of a chance to visit different classes yet."
Interest sparked in her surface thoughts. "Positive news, I hope?"
"Very. Hogwarts is impressive." He leaned in, lowering his voice as though letting her in on a secret. "I hate to admit it, but we don't have anything quite like it back home. The Ducal Palace is certainly a sight to behold, and I've seen many a lavish mansion and manor. Schooling, however, is simply not as centralized as it is here."
"More emphasis is placed on apprenticeships in various professions," the Emperor explained further. "Lacking access to a worldwide non-magical population, everything in Baldur's Gate must be produced in the Underdark. If you are able to demonstrate enough skill in a trade, chances are that you will be able to find a master to apprentice yourself to or work under. Agriculture and Herbology are particularly prominent industries, given the specialization of expertise and magical knowledge needed to grow crops underground." That was a lie, but they could hardly claim that slaves did most of the menial labor, as they would in real drow societies.
A thousand years was not nearly enough time for a true ecology or agriculture to develop in an underground setting, like it had in the ancient Underdark of Faerûn. No one had informed them of any local caves large and diverse enough for anything more than fish and insects to crawl into and shed their sight. They were banking on wizards simply not understanding how subterranean environments worked, trusting Kronnis and the Emperor to be experts on the matter. The lack of education geared towards sciences certainly worked in their favor. Kronnis doubted anyone here even knew what the words speleogenesis or stalactoflage meant, insular as they were.
Umbridge, feigning personal curiosity, questioned them further on the topic. Her interests obviously aligned with what the Ministry would like to know, if one was paying attention.
They discussed the struggles of bureaucracy, the regulations surrounding industries and their labor, and the partition of government and commercial enterprises. Bringing up the Ministry's departments, Umbridge spoke of her own work that she did for the Minister, pride clear in her voice.
In return, Kronnis shared minor details of the assistance they lent the Grand Duke. Although not officially employed in any capacity, working as an unholy mixture of advisor and errand boy – when he wasn't running the Knights of the Shield with the Emperor – was close enough to her own job description as Senior Undersecretary that her sense of kinship grew.
Truth was that he played many roles, more publicly known for philanthropic investing and the occasional sorcerous exploit than he was for the backroom deals that they made with dukes and politicians. But that wasn't what Umbridge wanted to hear about, nor could he tell her all about the fame that came with being the hero that saved the city.
An absent mental reprimand kept his ego in check, the Emperor reminding him who had actually used the Netherstones to dominate the Netherbrain and allow its defeat.
Kronnis would share the glory if he could! It was a shame his partner was too much of a coward to take credit, preferring instead to fade into the shadows. Their old companions were equally as famous and respected, they just hadn't capitalized on local renown, leaving the public's attention to fall solely on Kronnis instead.
Delusions of grandeur placed him next to the most regal illithid in the world as they publicly declared their conquest of the Netherbrain.
He was broken out of this fantasy when Umbridge further questioned the details of the Emperor's involvement in judicial matters. Once again fudging details, the information shared led her to believe him to be some sort of privately-contracted prosecutorial advisor – an expert called up during complicated legal matters.
The eventual arrival of curious fourth-years cut their conversation short, her next students doing a poor job of pretending not to eavesdrop as they settled into desks that had been magically re-straightened at the end of the previous class.
Harry sat on a table in an abandoned classroom, holding the Marauder's Map in his hands and watching as footsteps labelled 'Kronnis Teken'rret' and 'The Emperor' approached through the halls.
Curiosity had gotten the better of him on the night of his arrival at Hogwarts, compelling him to retrieve the map from where it lay stashed in his trunk. Shrouded by the curtains of his four-poster bed, he'd spent long minutes combing the castle's floors, finally finding their names in a set of adjoining rooms, likely whatever guest quarters had been arranged for their use.
Unsure of what he'd expected to find, the strange blur hidden under the text that clearly labelled a pair of footprints as the Emperor's was a mystery he'd puzzled over ever since.
Faded letters were just barely visible, like muggle graphite erased and overwritten by the sharp quill strokes that spelled out the moniker that the illithid had introduced himself by in Grimmauld Place, claiming it was a nickname he'd adopted.
If it truly was just a nickname, Harry had thought he might see the Emperor's real name in its place, whatever it might be. After all, Peter Pettigrew had shown up as such instead of Wormtail. Whoever the Emperor identified as was apparently more complicated than the map was equipped to decipher.
Squinting, the clearest section Harry could make out was the large letter 'B' that the name started with. Curiously enough, having seen it printed in the Prophet, the rest of the letters almost seemed to match up with the first part of Baldur's Gate, the city they said they were from.
It reminded him of a similar name that he'd noticed the previous year, that of a now second-year Hufflepuff who had loudly declared his name to be Oliver, rather than the one McGonagall had read out from the list.
Wondering if there was a mistake or oversight in the way the map had been enchanted, he resolved to ask Sirius at a later date how it identified an individual's name. The charmwork was leagues beyond his own skills, but even a group of schoolboys as talented as the Marauders were susceptible to miscalculations.
He put those thoughts aside, looking up as the footprints reached the door of the classroom.
Kronnis entered first with papers, quill, and an inkpot bundled in his arms. The tall form of the Emperor was like a dark shadow following him.
"Hey Harry, did you happen to take Divination as an elective?" Kronnis asked, straight to business.
"Yeah, it's a pretty easy class. Not very useful though," he admitted, remembering all of the dream journals and fake visions he and Ron had made up in lieu of actually having anything meaningful to submit for assignments.
The bundle of items was dumped on the table next to where Harry was seated. "Is Trelawney ever right about anything? I mean, she must have some talent, being a teacher here, but how accurate is the practice really?"
Harry thought back to when she'd seen the Grim in his tea leaves, years ago. "I wouldn't say she's that accurate. In my third year she saw an omen of death in my teacup, but it turned out to be Siriu-" he broke off, suddenly having the horrifying realization that it was possible she'd actually predicted Cedric's death. When he continued it was with a smaller voice, choked with emotion. "Well, maybe there is something to it, I suppose."
Kronnis and the Emperor exchanged a look before the illithid responded with dismissive words. "Predicting death is deceptive, especially without a time frame. It is inevitable."
Wanting to change the subject, Harry asked them about their sudden interest in the matter.
"Trelawney had all sorts of things to say about my tea leaves," Kronnis explained. "Something about prosperity, a happy marriage, and of course misfortune and death as well. Sounds like that might be a favorite of hers."
That rang a bell in Harry's memories. He thought back to a whispered conversation he'd overheard earlier, dismissed at the time as another fabricated addition to the rampant gossip currently circulating about the foreign ambassadors. A huddle of third-years in the common room had been exchanging suggestions on a supposed love interest of Kronnis, ranging from a fiancé back home, to a deceased lover, and, most unfortunate to his ears, Professor Umbridge. He was just grateful that the whispers hadn't been pointed in his direction, ridiculing him for claiming Voldemort's return. "Did she happen to say anything about a scandal?"
Kronnis gave him a strange look, as though concerned that his own mind had been read. His response questioning in tone. "Yes, actually."
Harry grimaced. "There are some…" he hesitated, chewing his bottom lip, "unfortunate rumors spreading about that."
Shameless enthusiasm unfurled on the drow's face. "Well, now I simply must know."
"I believe the worst ones involve you and Umbridge in a romantic context." The Emperor's blunt words – somehow already knowing the intimate details of all the gossip Harry was privy to – seemed to slap Kronnis on the back, doubling him over in sudden laughter.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he demanded between chuckled breaths, turning to the illithid.
"It was not relevant."
The curt response was obviously not what Kronnis wanted to hear. "It's relevant to me! What are they saying about you?"
"Nothing of note. If you recall, I did not participate in the divination exercise that has obviously provided the student body with enough speculation to forget about the more pressing claims of Voldemort's return. I find the rumors about you far more interesting." Squinting in a strange manner, the Emperor sounded amused at the situation, almost playful. Harry found it hard to tell, given that the illithid was rarely anything other than serious.
"Uh-huh." Clearly doubtful, Kronnis turned his eyes to Harry. "Help me out here Harry, what have you been hearing about him?"
Suddenly uncomfortable at being drawn into this argument, he tried to pick out the most inoffensive things he could remember. "Uh, well, most everyone seems to agree that he's very mysterious. And obviously people are curious to know what he really looks like. I think there was something about telekinesis just being a wandless levitation charm?" He shrugged helplessly, not wanting to mention the truly disturbing comments he'd heard from a seventh-year.
The girl had been certain that the Emperor's species branched off from dementors, or were dementor half-breeds. Harry was pretty sure that wasn't even possible and pushed aside his memory of the unfortunate explanation she'd given when an equally skeptical student had questioned her on the logistics of creating dementor half-breeds.
Kronnis huffed, unimpressed, and turned back to the Emperor again, fixing him with a silent glare that implied they were having a private conversation.
Not knowing if he should interrupt them, Harry tried shuffling the map to draw their attention back to the task at hand. He made sure to keep his left hand hidden in the sleeve of his robe. It was still a blotchy red, the words 'I must not tell lies' clearly visible where Umbridge's quill had cut itself into his skin during his detention the previous day.
The rustle of paper did its job, and the pair looked back at him as though nothing had happened. "Right, we don't have all day," Kronnis said, moving to stand next to where Harry was seated. "So how does this thing work anyway?"
"You need to tap it with a wand. Hang on, I'll deactivate it." Harry showed them how it functioned, getting off the table to spread the map on its flat surface. As they gathered around it, he found their current position. "We're here," he showed them, tapping his finger on their tight collection of names and footprints. "The map shows everyone's location by name. You can see over there," he pointed out moving footsteps a couple of corridors down, "that's what it looks like if someone's walking around."
Purple eyes had lingered on their own name for several seconds before following the rest of the explanation. "This is remarkable. It displays everyone's location in the castle at all times?"
"Just about. It only shows areas that my dad and his friends knew about, so any passages or hidden rooms that they didn't find aren't on here."
Splaying blank papers out on the table, Kronnis began asking questions about Hogwarts, quill ready to copy secrets.
The Order supposedly trusted their new allies, but Harry had to admit some misgivings, watching greed bloom in the drow's eyes as they roamed over his map. They'd claimed they would use this information to navigate the castle more efficiently – reasonable, given how often Harry himself had gotten lost or ended up on the wrong staircase in his first year – but it felt like he was handing over the keys to his home.
Regardless, he'd already agreed to this arrangement, and the only truly strange thing they'd done so far was try to befriend Umbridge. Distasteful as the action was, he understood they were just playing their role.
Harry spent the better part of an hour explaining all he knew, going over towers, dungeons, and hidden rooms. The constant scratching of Kronnis' quill accompanied his words, shorthand maps and notes on how to locate and activate hidden passages dutifully scribbled down.
Eyebrows raised at the long list of shortcuts and passwords Harry recited, revealing the passages concealed behind paintings along the Grand Staircase. They led to the seventh floor, the second floor, the Boathouse, the Clock Tower, and the Middle Courtyard, eliciting a remark on how impressive it was that one tower connected just about the entire school.
On the other hand, the path between the Whomping Willow and the Shrieking Shack was dismissed as worthless, only written down as an afterthought.
The Emperor commented from time to time, but was mostly engrossed in looming over the map to watch footprints patter through the castle, eyes occasionally resting on the corner where Harry kept their location folded open to check for potential disturbances. His deep voice eventually interrupted to remind Kronnis that they apparently had research on curses to conduct, and correspondences to sort through.
Harry's question on whether the research was related to his scar revealed that it wasn't. It was simply another side effect of Umbridge's lack of teaching ability. Apparently, her first-year class was identical to the fifth-year lesson he'd attended yesterday.
Frowning, he absently rubbed the scabs on the back of his hand at the reminder of how that particular class had gone for him. "She's got to be worse than anyone else we've had – besides Lockhart. I wouldn't even call what she's doing 'teaching', more like supervising us while we read and then getting angry whenever someone asks a question. Was she this horrible when you met her at the Ministry, or does she just hate being a teacher?"
"She has some rather strong opinions," the Emperor offered, seemingly lost in thought for a second before speaking again. "I would recommend you avoid being caught alone with her."
That warning came a little too late. An unconvincing hum and awkward shuffling of his feet gave Harry away. They both turned their attention to him, concern visibly dancing over Kronnis' face. "Don't tell me you have detention with her."
"All week, unfortunately. Yesterday's wasn't too bad."
Lilac eyes looked him up and down, assessing his person for damage. They rested on the inflamed left hand that he still held clasped in his right, an admittedly suspicious position. A complicated war of emotions briefly warred on the drow's face, exasperation beating frustration and disappointment into submission. This was all quickly hidden behind a steel façade of seriousness, matching the demeanor the Emperor tended to carry. "We warned you to be careful. What did she do?"
Harry's own frustration suddenly spiked. "I was just writing lines." Why did everyone have to mix themselves into his business? First Hermione and Ron told him to take this to the headmaster, and now Kronnis was trying to get involved. "I thought you were here to learn about our magic as part of your cover story? I don't need you to protect me."
"I made a promise to Sirius to do just that," Kronnis replied curtly, a frown breaking through his stony exterior. "The implication was to keep you safe from attempts on your life, but how do we know she isn't going to try something if she gets you alone?"
"In all fairness, I doubt she would attempt a murder in Hogwarts – right under Dumbledore's nose." The Emperor's words were more casual such a topic warranted.
"Not yet, but she might get bold or try to stage an accident. And wasn't it you who said last week that the track record of Defense professors wasn't very promising? Half of the ones he's had tried to kill him."
Harry interrupted. "You're insane, why would she try to kill me?"
Grim faces greeted him. The silence that ticked by told him that they were likely having another private conversation.
Temper flaring again, Harry spat out his next words, betrayal hot in his throat. "What aren't you telling me?"
The irritation bled from Kronnis' face, replaced by tired resignation. "Look, for this whole thing to work you need to not know some things. One wrong comment could unmask our entire ruse. I don't know what Umbridge gave you detention for – I assume something about Voldemort, or criticism of the Ministry's curriculum. Can you please just leave the Voldemort thing to us? I promise you that nothing is going to happen, the Ministry is not going to suddenly listen to you if you just keep shouting that he's back without any proof. Once we get that proof, we can…" he trailed off. "Well, we'll go from there."
Harry grit his teeth. "And what about the Defense lessons? How are we going to defend ourselves if Death Eaters come knocking at our door?"
"We are unable to change what the Ministry has elected to teach you," the Emperor said. "Perhaps self-study can fill in the gaps."
Plan beginning to form in his mind, Harry agreed. "Alright, I'll try to play along – but you have to answer some questions honestly for me. You owe me that much." As Kronnis' mouth opened to reply, Harry quickly interrupted to specify, having seen the ease with which that silver tongue had already twisted words to charm half the school and even Umbridge herself. "Three, I want three honest answers."
Shrewd eyes studied him, and the corners of the drow's mouth curled upwards into an approving smile. "Alright, three questions. But," a warning finger was held up. "We reserve the right to veto them if you ask for information that might be dangerous for you to know."
Unhappy with the stipulation, but knowing that he likely wouldn't be able to negotiate any better terms, Harry nodded.
Kronnis leaned back on the table as though sitting for a talk show interview – some of Petunia's favorites – before gesturing for Harry to begin.
He started with the question that got them into this argument, wanting a proper explanation. "Why do you think Umbridge might try to kill me?"
"She's done it before." Kronnis' revelation was both shocking and confusing. Harry's mind whirled, trying to recall what he might be talking about. "The dementor attack during the summer? That was her doing, and I wouldn't be surprised if she tried again. She's not a Death Eater, in case that was going to be your next question."
"How the hell do you know that?" Harry blurted out before he could catch himself.
Kronnis' smile grew into a smirk, but it was the Emperor who answered. "I read her mind during your hearing. Your public claims of Voldemort's return are inconvenient to the Ministry. She hoped to quietly get rid of you to assist Fudge, not that the Minister knows about it. It was honestly well thought out. If you saved your life with the patronus charm, the Ministry could try to expel you for performing underage magic – which they did attempt. You are lucky that Dumbledore was able to swing things your way."
Contemplating, Harry kept his mouth shut, not wanting to play into their game. The conspiracy they unveiled was unsettling. He felt ill at the thought that he'd been in the same room as her, although a bit more warning on the matter really would have been appreciated.
Given the opportunity, he decided to use his last question for a personal inquiry. An inconsequential one, but Harry had his suspicions on the nature of the answer, and was curious to see if an explanation would even be forthcoming. The Emperor had been awfully cagey regarding facts about himself when they'd discussed the information provided in the Prophet.
Harry picked up the map. Glowing in the depths of his hood, the Emperor's eyes narrowed down at him and then followed the movements of his hands as the paper was thrust into their vision, Harry's finger hovering over the strangely blurred name belonging to the illithid. Knowing that he'd undoubtedly seen hundreds of others during their study of the map earlier, Harry asked his question without clarification. "What does this say under your name, and why does it look like that?"
A second passed. Then another. Kronnis, looking awfully comfortable compared to the rigid frame of the Emperor, cleared his throat meaningfully. Those eyes eventually looked up from the map, capturing Harry in their intensity. He saw age that he'd never before noticed in the tall figure.
"It says Balduran. My name before I became what I am now. A name I no longer use, but one it seems I will continue to be defined by."
Harry blinked. "Were you named after Baldur's Gate?"
The snort of stifled laughter coming from Kronnis was ignored.
"I believe that not only have we answered your three questions, but we also gifted an additional one. I will only say this once. My past is my own and no business of yours, nor is it relevant to anything in your world. I would prefer it if you let this particular matter rest."
Confusion took the wheel of Harry's wildly racing train of thought until he realized that his third request had contained two separate lines of questioning.
The answer had been along the lines of what he'd expected. The Emperor's use of the term 'nickname' to describe the name he went by made it clear that he'd had another name, in the past or the present. Having no idea as to why it was not in use anymore, and not wanting to press his luck, Harry decided to drop the subject.
"Thanks," he mumbled, head swirling with mixed emotions on their willingness to be forthright after the confrontation.
"We are putting our trust in you Harry." The Emperor's voice no longer sounded as old as dust. "You cannot act as though you are aware of Umbridge's plots. She never told a soul, and investigation on how such a personal secret has come to light would be disastrous for our plans."
Settling ominously in the back of Harry's head, the words echoed through his mind during his detention later that evening, drowning out the feigned politeness of Umbridge's prattling. He didn't talk back. Thinly-veiled barbs went ignored as he wrote his lines in pained silence, watching her hands for any sign that she might go for her wand to cast an Unforgivable.
"He said his name was Balduran. Like the city they said they come from, Baldur's Gate?" Harry said, quietly unfolding the map to show his friends the room where the Emperor's name overlapped completely with Kronnis'. Were they… standing on each other's shoulders to reach a tall shelf? No, that was ridiculous, the Emperor could just use telekinesis. They were probably collaborating on a reply to some dreadfully boring letter. "Said he doesn't use it anymore. That he's different now or something? He… seemed kind of sad, honestly."
Hermione, face bright red for some reason, quickly wrenched her eyes away from the paper. "You're sure he wasn't making it up?" she asked after a moment, the soft tones of her voice barely making it across their circle of chairs in the Gryffindor common room.
"Look," he tapped the name, drawing her attention back to its strange font. "The parts of it that you can make out are accurate to-" Harry broke off when she swatted his hand away from the map.
"I'm not looking at that, put it away!" Hermione's whispering was aggressive, almost a hiss.
Harry looked around the common room, bewildered by her reaction. There was no one close enough to see or overhear what he was trying to show them. When he made eye contact with Ron, lounging on the couch, his friend seemed equally as clueless.
He set the map down beside him. "Anyway, I haven't thought of a good reason for him to make up something similar – it's not like we'd know any other names from their home. He's never seen the map before, so he wouldn't have known that his name looked like that."
"Seems weird though," Ron said, leaning forward to join the conversation. "And what kind of name is Balduran anyway? Who's named after a city?"
Hermione turned to him. "Actually, I had a girl named Paris in my class back before I went to Hogwarts. They're not that uncommon."
"Sounds pretentious. Mind you, purebloods name their kids after constellations, that might be worse," he laughed to himself.
"Anyway," Harry said again, trying to get them back on topic, "the only other thing we talked about is that they told me to stay away from Umbridge if I could help it." He didn't bring up the other half of their conversation, about how Umbridge had tried to have him killed. If Hermione found out she would go straight to the headmaster or the first teacher she saw, regardless of his wishes.
"I could have told you that, after what she did to your hand," Ron reassured him, speaking as though that was the most obvious fact in the world.
Hermione nodded, her lips pursed. "I know she's going to keep denying Voldemort's return, but you can't let her get to you."
"It's fine, really. Two detentions were enough. I'm not going to rise to her bait anymore."
There was pity in Ron's eyes. "Mate, you've still got the rest of the week. I don't know how you're going to get your potions essay done, Snape was a right bastard to assign fifteen inches on the first day."
"We need to teach ourselves Defense too, obviously Umbridge won't do it." Seemingly willing to increase her workload by an entire class, Hermione's suggestion reminded him of their third year, when she'd taken every single elective offered at Hogwarts.
Harry was more hesitant. "The Emperor said that too – suggested we should just study all the material ourselves, but we don't have a teacher or anything, never mind the time."
Vindicated that her opinion was shared by a figure of authority, Hermione's eyes shone. "We'll figure something out – but we really do need to work on that potions essay. Have either of you started the introduction yet?"
Grimacing, Harry and Ron shook their heads, and were then sent off to fetch their textbooks and parchment to begin the task that was sure to take up the rest of their evening.
When Harry eventually retired to bed, gathering his things and deactivating his father's map, he saw that the Emperor was now alone, with Kronnis' name nowhere to be seen.
Whatever could Kronnis be up to? Chapter 10… my beloved.
Wish I could include this in canon content, but alas, I couldn't fit it in anywhere. When Kronnis and the Emperor have their private convo after discussing school gossip with Harry, Kronnis specifically threatens: "I'm going to dig through your mind later, see how you like it."