Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognisable characters, plots, and settings are the exclusive property of Joanne K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership.
Edited and beta-read by: Himura; Bub3loka, Ash, and Kingfishlong.
Also, if you're feeling generous, want to support me, or want to read ahead, you know where to find me.
Thursday, 3rd of September 1992
Juno Bellatrix Black
"I shall expect you to follow their every command without fail as if the words were coming from my mouth," Juno said, looking at the squirming Joseph Avery, sandwiched between the Carrow Twins. Yet despite their stony demeanour and unblinking eyes, Hestia and Flora radiated amusement.
"It shall be done," the 6th year Slytherin mumbled, bowing deeply before scrambling away as if his arse was on fire.
"Must you terrify him so much?" Hestia asked, tilting her head.
"He was more scared at the prospect of being close to the two of you than of me," Juno reminded wryly. "So, how are things in Slytherin this year?"
"Travers and Rosier seem to have loosened their grip on things to focus on the upcoming NEWTs," was Flora's response. "Greengrass lost momentum to Malfoy, especially after he publicly supported our cousin."
Leave it to little Draco to be an annoying pest and ride the coattails of his betters.
Juno rubbed her chin. "Surely some of the older years are planning to make a play with Rosier and Travers growing lax?"
"Montague, Borgin, and Botley," Flora said. "But we have Ralina Selwyn, Omar Shafiq, and now Avery on our side, so it shouldn't be much of a problem."
"Besides, the summer saw our skills grow significantly," her twin added, and Juno couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance. Her time for magical practice had been severely restricted, and she had many duties. Besides the preparations for that were incredibly time-consuming, but soon, things would change.
For the first time, Flora's face turned visibly pensive, and her apprehension threatened to drown Juno's mind.
"Err…"
"Out with it," Juno hissed, losing her patience. Why had her ironclad control been so feeble since school started? The stab of pain in her arm only reminded her of that injury and made her scowl.
"We can mediate your quarrel with our cousin," Flora said, her twin nodding solemnly. "Perhaps—"
"There is no quarrel to mediate. At most, it's merely a misunderstanding," she interrupted, irritation swelling in her chest again. She had swallowed Harry's implied insult quietly, but the mere thought of the talk two days prior still irked her. "Do not fret. Whatever problems that exist between Harry and I will be solved soon."
Neither Hestia nor Flora seemed convinced, but they nodded and returned to the dungeons. Juno could feel a sliver of irritation in them–probably because she had summoned them during Harry's morning run. It was not her goal to be petty, but her time today was too short. It didn't matter.
Soon. Soon enough, she would win, and Harry would no longer dismiss her like some helpless, useless damsel. Worse was the truthfulness of the dismissal; how could she argue when she kept losing to someone nearly a year younger and with far less preparation than her? Juno would prove to him that she was no longer inferior, that she was his equal, if not superior, and could easily assist in his quest for the Dark Lord's diary.
Especially after that gruesome last summer.
But the misunderstanding was putting her other efforts here on hold. Harry's presence by her side in school had been invaluable–something she had grown used to and subsequently taken for granted. And now that he was gone, distant from everyone, not just her, all of her friends and allies were hesitating. Even Hestia and Flora, the twins that Juno had known since she could walk, had easily latched onto the boy as if they had always known him.
Worse, Harry did not even try to network, yet he seemed to gather people around him easily. Her efforts seemed laughable in the face of his results–it was after Harry walked out of Lockhart's class that the Ravenclaws and Slytherins followed suit.
Sighing, Juno made her way through the empty hallways until she finally reached the polished dark door of Flitwick's office.
"Miss Le–Black," the diminutive Charms master greeted her, easily correcting himself over her new name. "You have put me in quite a difficult position. Let's put aside the heavy loss of points for Ravenclaw. Mr Lockhart demands your expulsion over grave misconduct and disruption of classes."
Did she care about the threat or the stuttering of that annoying peacock or his glares at lunch and dinner yesterday?
Of course, walking out of the first Defence class had been sweet, but Juno was fully prepared to face all of the consequences for it, no matter what—the enormous loss of points that left Ravenclaw in the negatives the least of her troubles. Last year, she would be hesitant, but now, she had the full weight and all of the connections of House Black at the tip of her fingers.
"I can surrender my wand, pack my things, and leave," Juno said after a heavy pause. In the end, she never really needed Hogwarts, even if the fleeting connections she made were beneficial. Tutoring on every subject and taking exams could be done at her leisure, but why did her heart clench in pain?
Why was she feeling so reluctant and angry at the thought of doing so?
"There will be no need for such things!" Flitwick hastily waved his small hands. "While your infraction is grave, it's the first one on your otherwise stellar record, and Professor Dumbledore feels like detention for a few weeks shall be enough. I, of course, have taken it upon myself to supervise the punishment in question."
"I appreciate the gesture, Professor," she bowed respectfully—unlike Lockhart, Flitwick was someone deserving of it. "But my time is far too precious to be wasted on the… extracurricular materials Gilderoy Lockhart teaches."
The pain in her chest receded, but Juno was not one to bow down or even waste time with worthless morons like Lockhart, no matter how much she desired to remain at Hogwarts.
"Yes… Professor Lockhart," the word was said without any ounce of Flitwick's usual warmth, "has unorthodox teaching methods, I must profess. Alas, he was the sole candidate for the position this year, and the headmaster had no choice but to accept him or go without a Defence teacher."
No wonder the other teachers were cold towards the five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award—the staff liked him just as much as she did.
"Perhaps I can self-study?" Juno proposed cautiously, her anger dwindling. "I have done so before, professor, and I can provide written permission from my legal guardian."
"Not enough, not without Professor Lockhart's approval," came the thoughtful response. "But perhaps something else can be arranged. You can take the end-of-year exam and be released from the subject for the year."
She couldn't help but smile. "I would be most thankful."
"Do not rush to celebrate just yet, Miss Black." Flitwick leaned closer, his kind face uncharacteristically stern. "You would still have to attend Defence classes until such a thing could be arranged—which can take up to a month."
"Is there no way for me to hasten the process or be excused from that charade?"
The green flames in the fireplace roared up, and her grand aunt's head peeked through.
"Perhaps we can discuss this once you return, Miss Black," Flitwick said, not unkindly. "Go now—and I expect you back before Monday. And write me a thirteen-inch essay on defence before you return, if you would. The benefits of movement and versatility when duelling a superior foe seems to be a suitable topic."
Recognising the favour for what it was, Juno bowed even deeper. "Thank you, Professor Flitwick."
She grabbed a handful of floo powder and threw it into the fireplace, shouting, "Black Manor!"
"Troubles at school?" Cassiopeia's amused smile was the first thing to greet her from a sprawling sofa covered in black leather slashed with silvery patterns. Yet, for once, the unflappable older witch looked tired; dark circles loomed under her eyes, and her body language screamed of exhaustion.
"Trifles," Juno waved her concerns off dismissively before pausing. Why would she simply accept such indignity? That feckless fop Lockhart was undoubtedly trying to make trouble for her and oust her from school, but such things could go both ways and even at their weakest, House Black would not suffer any fools.
"But that doesn't mean I'll let it go. I want everything we have on Gilderoy Lockhart. And if we don't have dirt on him, dig it up or fabricate it."
Her grandaunt's grin turned predatory. "Someone is furious. But fret not, I'll see it done."
"I want that clown's reputation demolished," an angry hiss rolled off her lips as she dusted off the fireplace sooth from her robes. "I want him to become a running joke and a disgrace to the degree where he won't dare show his crooked &nose& in public ever again."
"Don't hiss at me," Cassiopeia clicked her tongue. "I can hardly understand Parseltongue any more than I could Chinese—actually, even less than that. Anyway, what if someone found out? Your carefully crafted reputation would be forever tainted."
Juno coughed, feeling abashed and centred her mind. Had Lockhart gotten under her skin so much that she lost control for the first time in years? No, she decided it was the mounting pressure of the last month and Harry's challenge and refusal to speak that stretched her frayed nerves further.
"My apologies. The last few weeks have been hectic."
The old witch's face softened. "I know it's been hard, especially with the wound, but you know no potions or foreign magic can affect your body for at least a moon prior. The benefits will be worth it, I promise."
"I sure hope so," she murmured. Two different sets of rituals had been offered to Juno, a significant, one-time surge of power as opposed to a far smaller enhancement but a hefty unearthing of her potential, body, mind, and magic. The first was so tempting, too tempting, but Juno had resisted in favour of the significant long-term benefits.
"A word of caution." Cassiopeia's face grew stern. "All rituals carry an inherent danger, and you should under no circumstances attempt further dabbling in this field without consulting me."
"Yes, I've heard about the infamous Mordred's law a hundred times now," Juno groaned. "Each subsequent set of rituals increases the chances of a mishap, particularly of the lethal kind."
"Risk aside, it not only increases the toll on your mind, soul, and body but compounds the variables and consequences into a nigh impossible mess to calculate. Shortcuts come with not only price but greater risk, my dear."
"I know." Juno rubbed her bandaged arm. The Wampus Cat's claws had been razor-sharp, and she would have died without her aunt's preparations and the weakening of the 5X beast. "Let us get this over with. Didn't you say we must begin at the hour of my birth?"
"Very well," Cassiopeia smirked. "I have the ritual circle prepared."
Half an hour later, Juno was as naked as the day she was born, unable to suppress her shivers as the cold stone beneath her feet sucked away all warmth from her feet. The chilly September air helped little as she treaded into the paved inner courtyard under the cloudy sky above.
Rituals are fickle yet incredibly precise; all worldly possessions must be discarded lest you want to increase the risk further.
The smooth yet plain marble tiles were painted with a complex constellation of runes seemingly randomly clustered between a tangled mess of lines, triangles, cones, ovals, and circles. Juno blinked as the ink pulsed, looking like a sour mix between russet and purple, filling the air with the choking, acrid smell she struggled to identify.
"It took me over fifty hours to draw this and triple-check it." Cassiopeia exhaled slowly, exhaustion seeping through her words momentarily before her expression hardened. "I even had to have my mind examined by the ritual master for a final confirmation."
Juno finally reached the courtyard's centre, where stars and circles overlapped, leaving just enough space for her to stand. At the three prongs of the main triangle lay bowls with her offerings. Wampus Cat's eyes, slain by her hand, were placed on the western prong. A Manticore's heart was found and purchased on her lonesome with gold she had earned (if mostly by selling the treasure trove that was the Wampus Cat's body) placed on the eastern prong. Last lay the most troublesome of all on the final focal point. Juno was forced to waste three weeks to procure it—the Horn of the Horned Serpent, willingly granted after she completed three lengthy tasks for the beast that sent her over three continents.
A small part of her noted that the offerings were set into a softening order, from forcibly taken to willingly given. Her feet grew numb then. An invisible weight settled upon her shoulders, making her knees buckle, and Juno struggled to remain upright. The cold marble below turned icy, so cold that it burned at the soles of her feet, and her usually lively magic slowed down to a crawl.
"It is time," Cassiopeia's voice seemed distant as she carefully walked away. "Good luck, Juno, and remember, try not to pass out, for the more you struggle, the more you gain. Pain is the cheapest part of the price, after all. Do not dally, child."
With a wave of her wand, the arched door was slammed shut.
Juno ignored the tingling underneath her skin and gathered her magic in the tip of her wand as her aunt taught her and tapped the activation rune.
The eerie ink on the ground lit up like a lantern, the three prongs of the triangle glowing sinister red, dreadful blue, and angry green.
The air was knocked out of Juno's lungs as what felt like sizzling knives stabbed into every inch of her being; her wounded shoulder felt as if someone had poked it with a poisoned iron rod and twisted it. Someone was screaming in the distance–probably her.
She wheezed pitifully as the world around her faded, and with gritted teeth, Juno clung to her consciousness with all of her efforts, running every mental exercise to keep herself together. A small part of her realised she had collapsed to the ground, and her limbs were trashing, but she couldn't care.
Every fibre of her being was set on stubbornly enduring, and she somehow succeeded. And just when she thought the pain was becoming bearable, Juno Bellatrix Black found out the true meaning of agony.
5th of September, Saturday
Juno awoke with a start, feeling surprisingly comfortable, covered in a warm, silken cocoon. A soft purring came from on top of her chest, along with something licking her chin. Cracking her eyes open, she was met with the familiar ornate ceiling belonging to her room and a small pair of bright yellow eyes. Her mind felt quick and agile like a kneazle, and her body felt lighter and stronger.
"Good morning," Cassiopeia's voice greeted her.
Then, memories of agony slammed into her mind… had she failed? Juno absentmindedly hugged Mrs Norris.
"See for yourself," was the impassive reply, yet she could…. hear the pride in the words. Had Juno spoken out loud? "Yes. I was warned rituals can make you lose control of your senses for a while."
Cassiopeia Black shuffled on a chair beside her bed, and Juno blinked in wonder at the faint, almost imperceptible aura of dreary darkness surrounding the old witch.
A familiar silver-framed mirror was gently placed between her fingers, and she saw a girl with tangled hair and eyes glowing a sinister purple blink in confusion. A part of her mind registered that the mirror felt lighter.
"I… what?" Her voice came out an odd mix of hoarse and silky.
"I believe you're unconsciously channelling magic in your eyes," Cassiopeia applied helpfully. "See if you can try and stop."
Juno focused–which was easier than before, and noticed the faint strain on her magic and cut it off. Her eyes returned to their cold, icy blue, though her face had a newfound tinge of sharpness… wilderness to it.
"I feel great," Juno said in wonder.
The older witch snorted. "So would I after two days of sleep."
"It's been two days already?" Juno hastily pushed herself up, the cat jumping out of the bed with a hiss, but the expected pain from her wounded shoulder did not arrive.
The next words halted her mid-stride. "It's fine, I've informed Flitwick. You still have until Monday morning to return, so we have a day to test any changes. You have done well to endure for over half an hour, and if my sources are correct, you should have an easier time learning magic or training your body. The subconscious ocular magic was probably something you gained from the Wampus Cat - my wager would be on an obscure branch of legilimency. Or perhaps even a mutated one."
Juno picked up her wand lying by the nightstand and felt her magic flow again, smoother and more responsive than before. Finally, she had a chance to beat Harry, and he would no longer treat her as a burden.
Standing up, Juno stretched; a wide smile crept up her face as her body felt overflowing with energy.
"It's been a while since we sparred," she said lightly. Then her stomach grumbled, and a groan rolled off her lips.
Cassiopeia scoffed. "Don't grow arrogant on me, girl. You're still too young and green to be lost in the rush of power. The rituals didn't make you all-powerful; they only enhanced what was already there. Clear your mind before speaking any further."
Juno halted at the warning in her dark tone and focused, letting her thoughts and feelings drain away. It was easier than before, and the feeling of being able to take on the world and that everyone was lesser evaporated along with her emotions. She shivered; such a magical high that so obviously affected her actions and words was not only dangerous but unacceptable–it had taken root in her mind without her noticing.
"My apologies, Aunt Cassiopeia," she exhaled slowly, crouching to pick up Mrs Norris, who had been rubbing her feet. "That was unbecoming of me. Let us eat?"
"Good," the older witch inclined her head in approval. "Wally has already prepared a suitable feast. You'd be pleased to know that Lockhart's bright smile hides many dark secrets. It wasn't hard to uncover the many inconsistencies with my resources."
Juno couldn't help but chuckle. "I assume a concerned citizen has already alerted the DMLE with some proof?"
"Of course," came the dark reply. "Nobody messes with House Black and gets away with it. Barnabas Cuffe received a hefty donation with an even heftier scoop as of this morning."
6th of September, Sunday
Her whole body ached with pain after Cassiopeia had thoroughly demolished her in a duel with nary an effort.
"The rituals did make you slightly more powerful and faster," the old witch concluded, lazily spinning the wand between her fingers. "But only slightly. As promised, you'll probably progress faster from now on, both magic and body. And you need to get the hang of your eyes; it would not do for you to lose control and have them start glowing in front of others."
Her grandaunt did not hold back as much as she was used to; bruising, breaking bones, cutting–it was clear Cassiopeia was teaching Juno a brutal lesson words could never hope to replicate. Of course, she couldn't go to Hogwarts looking as if she had wrestled with a herd of angry hippogryphs, and everything was already healing, her body still tender and itching all over–doubtlessly another lesson.
"Any self-respecting witch must know how to fix a body as much as how to break it," her grandaunt would always tell her as she healed her.
After writing Flitwick's Essay, Juno felt restless and decided to return to school at dawn and leave the multitudes of duties of House Black on Cassiopeia's shoulders. It was petty, but she didn't care, for even after healing up, she still felt phantom pains and soreness in her muscles.
"Hogwarts!"
Stepping through the green flames, it was not Flitwick's office she entered but another unfamiliar room. The cabinet was stylish with red and gold colours and quite more prominent than she would expect; the walls were clogged up with countless snoozing portraits. A soft golden glow from an ornate chandelier above illuminated everything. A hint of purple gleamed through the darkness coming from the eastern window, doubtlessly heralding the coming dawn.
The enormous, claw-footed, polished desk in the centre instantly grabbed her attention, as did the man sitting on the ornate chair behind it.
Albus Dumbledore sat there, hands clasped, his gaze pressing down on her like a mountain from beneath his spectacles. Even his blue eyes had lost their usually cheerful twinkle.
"Professor Dumbledore," Juno curtsied almost instinctively, but inwardly, she kept cursing. She was supposed to return to Professor Flitwick's floo, but the headmaster was probably in control of the network and wished to speak to her. "My apologies for the tardiness."
The pressure disappeared as if it was never there.
"Ah," he chuckled lightly. "No harm done, Miss Black. But I must profess myself disappointed."
"I will endeavour not to break the school rules any further, Professor—"
"Minor trifles on your otherwise spotless record." A wrinkled hand slowly stroked a swan-sized bird with crimson plumage, its tail feathers golden, reminding Juno of a peacock. The infamous phoenix. "I meant the rituals, my dear girl. A dangerous thing to dabble for someone so young."
How did he find out? Juno instantly clamped her mind, but there had not been even the slightest brush upon her defences. One of the portraits behind the headmaster–whom Juno instantly recognised as Phineas Black, arrogantly reared his nose, giving her a subtle thumbs-up, though he remained silent.
Dumbledore's insight sent shivers down her spine, but Juno could hardly admit to dabbling in an illegal branch of magic.
She feigned confusion instead, "What are you talking about, sir?"
"I know I might not seem like it, but I was once young and foolish, too," the powerful warlock hummed, his tone growing nostalgic, and Juno couldn't help but feel at ease. "But I had a close friend, equally talented and headstrong as I was but far bolder in his vision and methods. Sometimes I wonder if we delved too fast and too deep…"
"What happened to him?" Juno asked, unable to hold his curiosity.
Albus Dumbledore tilted his head, staring at something distant behind her.
"Hmm. Sit," his tone grew commanding, and Juno swallowed heavily and pulled over the chair across the headmaster. "As for my friend? Apparently, he's busy crafting rituals for young witches in his old age. Lemon drop?"
Juno stared in incomprehension at the bowl of pale yellow muggle sweets kindly offered to her.
Shaking her head, she abandoned her pretences and sighed, "What gave me away?"
"Your magic, dear," came the dry reply. "Sacrificial magic, the bread and butter of every ritual, always leaves a trace for those who have the insight to spot it, and I can humbly claim I'm one of those who could. It will fade within a week, of course. But now? The difference from before is night and day with you. At least he had some sense to consider the long-term consequences," Dumbledore murmured, whispering more to himself than to her as his gaze slowly softened. "And for once, nothing truly dark. How surprising."
Juno was more than aware that she stood before the most powerful wizard in the world right now. Such a man was to be addressed with a healthy dose of caution and respect, especially since he had cornered her in such a way. But a part of her mind helpfully reminded Juno that Dumbledore had no proof for his allegations–nor did he need any to make trouble for her.
So, she decided to abandon her caution and be direct. "Who is 'he', sir?"
"You accepted a set of rituals from a source you did not know?!" The headmaster asked, aghast, disbelief written clearly on his face.
"I trust my great grand aunt," Juno replied stiffly, but for the first time since she agreed to the ritual, she felt beyond foolish. "If she wanted to harm me, I would be long dead or worse."
Dumbledore shook his head. "I daresay you don't comprehend the 'worse', Miss Black. The man who designed those rituals can only be Gellert Grindelwald, the Scourge of Europe and the Hammer of Prague."
Her heart leapt into her throat, and her blood hammered in her ears, but the old warlock continued relentlessly. "Thousands of witches and wizards perished in his experiments, and only Merlin knows how many more lives were harvested for ingredients. But I suppose even he holds affection for his shadowy hand."
"…Aunt Cassiopeia?"
"The very same. Why does it not surprise me that she managed to bypass the traps in Nurmengard, not that it would do her much good? Or… perhaps you piqued Gellert's interest. I'm uncertain which might be worse." The headmaster sighed, looking a decade older.
Despite all of her self-control, Juno's mouth went dry. For the first time since she could remember, Juno was unsure what to do. Morgana, she still struggled to wrap her head around the fact that Gellert Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore were childhood friends!
A thousand thoughts raced through her mind, but neither were particularly helpful nor made much sense.
"Am I in trouble, professor?"
The phoenix thrilled softly; the soothing sound made her apprehension dwindle.
"No more than you were four days ago," he chuckled softly, and the silvery twinkle suddenly returned to his pale eyes. "Don't worry, Miss Black. But I believe your previous punishment is insufficient, and such reckless behaviours must be rectified. Detention until Christmas. With me. I shall send you a note on the days and times."
Juno felt lightheaded as she walked out of the headmaster's office. Sadly, what had just happened was not a product of her imagination. Dumbledore had barely done—or said anything, nor had he used any magic at all, yet he had somehow made her feel small, powerless, and insignificant. Worse, no matter how much she wanted to avoid the newly increased detention, she could not.
She would not!
Even the smallest chance that the most powerful wizard in the world could teach her something was priceless, an opportunity no amount of galleons or influence could ever purchase.
The castle was still asleep, but the absentminded Juno almost collided with a sweaty figure by the bronze knocker. Blinking in confusion, her gaze settled on an abashed Harry, his hair damp with sweat and face flushed with exertion, probably returning from his morning jog.
"Sorry. You look faint," his breathless voice was thick with concern as if they had not quarrelled a few days earlier. Then, he carefully took a step back. "Err, glad to see you back."
"I'm glad to be back," Juno admitted slowly. "Though it appears I'll be stuck in detention with the headmaster for some time."
"My condolences," Harry half-chuckled, half-groaned. "From what I know, Dumbledore is… troublesome."
The words were earnest, tinged with concern, and genuine, putting Juno at ease. Even his earlier seemingly insulting claims were not a challenge to her ability but out of stubborn concern for her well-being. Despite their earlier quarrel, the green-eyed boy was still her friend.
'Oh', she realised. 'Friend…'
"I'll keep it in mind," Juno said, trying to control her heartbeat and steady her breathing, still feeling shocked from her meeting with the headmaster. "Tomorrow… I'll rejoin your runs if you do not mind."
"I don't mind," came the quiet reply. "But… is your arm healed?"
She proudly tapped her shoulder with a light smirk. "Better than ever. Only, I have a request."
"Let us not speak of that just yet," Harry's voice lowered to a whisper as he cautiously looked around. "I-"
"It's fine," Juno interrupted, earning herself a surprised frown. "Truly, I mean it. But I do want a duel. It's been a while."
"Sure. Want to find an empty classroom now?"
Sighing, Juno admitted, "I've grown rusty over the summer, so give me two, no, three weeks." Her body still ached from her aunt's lessons on 'arrogance'. But with some prudent practice, she could focus on her magical skills, especially if Dumbledore's detentions proved fruitful.
While her progress had been significant, Juno knew Harry had not grown lax in the slightest but instead drove himself thrice harder, according to the Carrow Twins.
There was no point in raising the topic or arguing until she had bested Harry. He could hardly object to putting her in danger if Juno proved her skills superior. But until then, there was no reason to keep that irksome tension in the air.
Harry
He did not know what caused it, but Juno was back to normal. Whatever House Black family matter weighed on her mind was resolved, and Harry was glad for it. The fact that she didn't push on the Horcruxes was even more welcomed, for Harry wasn't sure if he could keep declining her.
No matter how much he prepared, facing the basilisk alone was a daunting prospect. And he had yet to procure Phoenix Tears, for Fawkes ignored his pleas and summons. Harry dismissed the option to get into the headmaster's office; the last thing he needed was Dumbledore's scrutiny.
"Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."
But he did not truly need help, did he? Harry was no more in danger than any student walking the halls. Did he have to fight for his life for the phoenix to hear his call? Or had the phoenix only given him the time of day before because Harry wielded a wand with his feather?
The thought soured his mood further, but not for long.
Harry finished his morning spell-casting session and rushed down for breakfast, only to find himself sandwiched between the idly chatting Diana and Juno. Some of his tension bled out. His determination did not waver, but his mind felt lighter. Like every Sunday, the Great Hall was slow to fill up, and the lazy students trickled in one by one.
Even the staff table was half-empty, though today, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled brighter than ever, and Sirius was again smiling as if privy to a joke only he knew. Flitwick, on the other hand, looked pensive, but the slight frown on his face had been ever-present since Lockhart sent Ravenclaw to the bottom in House Points.
No matter how many points were awarded or restored, the pompous fraud would find out and take them away quickly. It was a miracle the House Cup did not devolve into a petty squabble between the teachers as they simply gave Ravenclaw points out of spite; blatantly taking away points that other teachers rewarded was considered an attack on their person, yet Harry thought the other teachers simply did not care enough to escalate after Snape was gone.
"Morning. Glad to see you back, Juno," a sleepy Morag joined them as Harry scarfed down on his double serving of bacon. "The rumour mill began to claim that Lockhart had managed to expel you."
Diana snorted. "Those were the milder versions. I heard Abbot claim that our Illustrious DADA teacher sent his contracts from the Dark Force Defence League to kidnap and reform you."
"That girl sure has a rich imagination," Juno chuckled faintly. Harry couldn't help but take a closer glance at the blue-eyed girl. Why did her face look… slightly different? Or perhaps it was her hair that looked more vibrant somehow. Or was it her eyes?
Harry struggled to pinpoint it, but the difference was undoubtedly there, if very slight. He shrugged; if he could not identify it at a glance, then it was not too important.
Just as he had expected, the rumour mill about Snake Charmer Potter died off in the far juicier gossip about Lockhart and his inability to teach. While some students were still sceptical about the man, everyone who took classes with him was disillusioned or unhappy, especially those who had to take OWLs and NEWTs this year.
Harry shook his head, chasing the errant thoughts away.
"Some even say you are possessed by a spurned banshee and need to be exorcised," he added. "But I suspect Lockhart let that one out himself. I think the man hates you."
"It's of little wonder why," Diana clicked her tongue. "On Friday, the fifth and seventh years walked out of Lockhart's classes, too. All of them."
"I heard Malfoy loudly encourage everyone to lodge complaints to the Board of Governors about Lockhart yesterday," Harry recalled almost fondly. Seeing Draco be an annoyance–but one on his side, was almost heartwarming. "Ah, speak of the devil."
Lockhart walked in, and the sleepy murmur in the Great Hall died out as he proudly marched forth. But as he walked to his seat on the staff tale, the professor stopped in his stride, and his gaze paused on Juno, his face turning stonier.
Then, as he stiffly sat down, a loud farting sound ripped through the Great Hall. The silence was deafening for half a second before Sirius howled with laughter, slapping the table wildly, while Dumbledore chuckled. The students followed suit, and even Harry found himself chortling along while Lockhart tried his hardest to look dignified and failing miserably, judging by the reddening of his face.
"Fifty points from Ravenclaw," he hissed out once the laughter died off, glaring at Harry… or perhaps Juno.
"Now, now," Sirius cleared his throat loudly. "There's hardly any proof our prim and proper eagles did it. Fifty-Five points to Ravenclaw, I'd say, for being such good sports and looking dashing on this fine morning. Besides, a little laughter and some mischief has never hurt anyone, isn't that right, Gilderoy?"
Lockhart opened his mouth with disbelief, then closed it like a gaping fish. Then, he stiffly pulled over a serving of breakfast as the giggles in the Great Hall continued if subdued. Harry shook his head inwardly; the one teacher petty enough to play the point system against Lockhart was doubtlessly Sirius Black.
Breakfast continued, but in a handful of minutes, the laughter surged again, and Harry almost spat out his pumpkin juice as he glanced at the staff table.
Even Professor Sprout attempted and promptly failed to cover her laughter with coughs.
"Gilderoy," Dumbledore chortled as the Defence professor looked around suspiciously, his coiffed hair now the eye-catching bright purple. "I daresay you're looking rather stylish today. Did you not claim your favourite colour is lilac?"
Lockhart hastily pulled out a mirror from his turquoise robes, and his face paled with horror. Without saying anything, he fled the Great Hall as if his arse was on fire, leaving a trail of laughter in his wake. Even Juno's lips twitched with amusement, and her blue eyes danced with delight.
"Did I just see a violet-haired Lockhart run away towards the Hospital Wing?" Goldstein sat next to MacDougal as he rubbed his eyes, blinking in confusion.
"You did," Diana confirmed, still wheezing while clutching her belly.
"Damn, and I thought I was still dreaming. The Weasley twins sure are working fast this year," he said, admiration dripping in his words.
"Yeah, I don't think it's them, mate," Harry smiled, looking at Sirius, who was still chuckling merrily.
The frantic flapping announced the owls' arrival, and a storm of feathers quickly filled the Great Hall, bringing mail, gifts, and newspapers with it.
Hedwig gingerly surrendered the Daily Prophet clutched in her talons after an ample offering of bacon, only to be met with Lockhart's smiling face.
"Lockhart, a fraud?" One of the older years nearby read the title outloud, and many students quickly clustered around the available copies of the Daily Prophet. "Secret sources in the DMLE claim the supposedly acclaimed bearer of the Order of Merlin Third Class is under investigation-"
The excited clamour filled up the Great Hall, and even the teachers seemed to be in a good mood. Yet, just like him, Dumbledore did not look happy. Harry suspected what was on the headmaster's mind.
If Lockhart was absent, who would teach Defence for the rest of the year? A part of Harry was glad the incompetent DADA teacher was exposed and would be unlikely to linger for a whole year. The rare smugness on Juno's face spoke volumes, and he couldn't help but think that this was her doing somehow. Still, Harry quickly finished the rest of his meal; he had better things to do than waste his time thinking or listening about Lockhart's misadventures.
His yew wand thrummed pleasantly in his right hand as if anticipating the coming spell practice as much as he was.
Author's Endnote:
It was not particularly an eventful chapter, but the undercurrents started churning. My plan to keep Flophart around for an extended period of time seemed to fall short once I realised the sheer nonsense of him lasting a long time. Like, even myself, as the author, couldn't fabricate enough bullshit reasons to keep him around. In the end, I don't have to follow JKR's very sketchy-at-times worldbuilding/setting.
That being said, I can finally dive into year two with delight. Buckle up because it's going to be wild, and Harry and Juno will be very much involved in all of it.
I update a chapter every second Thursday (or early Friday morning if I'm late/depending on your time-zone)! You can find me on my Discord (hVMvHF7g2m), where you can read ahead, come chat, or ask me or others questions.