Harry IV
"You gave an interview to Rita Skeeter?" Sirius laughed in the mirror. Harry shrugged his response as he tossed himself down on a bench next to the lake. The early afternoon sun reflected off the lake, making him wish he'd brought sunglasses.
"It wasn't by choice. But yes, I did," Harry reiterated.
"Wasn't by choice?"
"Hermione set it up without telling me. It cut into my date with Daphne," Harry said. Sirius paused.
"Ah," he said. He seemed to ponder for a moment before he asked. "How'd she take it?"
"Fine," Harry said. "She's was pretty mellow about it. We had a fun morning and then met up with a bunch of friends. That's where Hermione cornered me with Rita Skeeter."
"I'm a little surprised you didn't just tell her to bugger off," Sirius said.
"I was late and ignored her for most of it," Harry shrugged.
"But ended up giving the interview anyway," Sirius countered.
"Less for Hermione. More because Daphne, Dylan and Padma wanted to hear my side of things," Harry said.
"Showing off for the girls, eh?" Sirius teased. Harry shrugged but smirked as if the thought had crossed his mind.
"More or less," he answered. "Either way, it's allegedly going to be published in the Quibbler. I have no idea when."
"Seriously? The Quibbler?" Sirius laughed. Harry shrugged his shoulders.
"Again, none of this was my idea," he answered.
"Well, I'm sure it'll be their next issue if Skeeter writes the article quickly. They'll sell more copies of that than anything they publish all year," Sirius laughed.
"You think so?" Harry raised his brows.
"Of course. The people who are loyal to the Ministry will buy it out of rage to see what nonsense you're spouting. And the people who think the Prophet and the Ministry's story doesn't make much sense will buy it to see if you offer a sensible alternative. The Quibbler will laugh all the way to Gringotts. They may as well be minting Galleons. Hopefully you negotiated a good percentage for yourself," Sirius said.
"I believe that would be zero," Harry answered. Sirius rolled his eyes at him.
"We have a lot to talk about over the summer," Sirius chuckled.
"Never even occurred to me," Harry said. "Hell, Hermione seemed to think she was doing me a favor by getting me the interview."
"You hex her?" Sirius asked.
"Of course not," Harry scoffed.
"Not saying you should, but I'm not sure your passive attitude with her is going to help you improve that relationship," Sirius said. Harry glared at the mirror then peered around the lake, wondering if he should end the conversation. He didn't think hexing Hermione would improve that relationship, either. There weren't any other students enjoying the chilly spring air. And he didn't see any of the professors either. And frankly, if Umbridge knew about the mirror she'd almost certainly be hounding him.
"Yeah, probably not. I'm still not sure what to do about her though. I love her and all but there are times I'm not sure she thinks I can make my own decisions," Harry answered.
"Tell her that," Sirius shrugged. "Honesty usually goes far. She'll act mad for a day or two and get over it. If she doesn't, she's not nearly as good of a friend as you think."
"I'm sure," Harry said. He didn't feel like talking much more about that for the moment. He didn't find his way of dealing with Hermione to be that ineffective at the moment. He was fairly sure she'd learned her lesson.
"Is that what you wanted to talk about? Here I expected you to be asking how to fix things with your girlfriend after you screwed up the first date," Sirius teased.
"I did not screw up the first date," Harry countered. Sirius raised his brows at him but Harry quelled him with a slight glare. The older man shook his head.
"You look shockingly like your mother when you do that," he said.
"Really?" Harry blinked. He'd expected to be compared to his father. He was far more used to that with anything relating to his appearance.
"Yes," Sirius said. "She had a way of ending a conversation with a look. It's quite the talent. You seem to have it down."
"Well, I try," Harry shrugged.
"So what did you want to talk about when you could be snogging in a broom cupboard?"
"I don't think I could talk her out of missing Runes if I tried," Harry said. "Not sure what the fascination is with Latin phrases and dumb symbols but here we are."
"Most of Runes is in Greek or Sanskrit. Well, the bits that are in a language, lots of symbols," Sirius said.
"You would know?"
"I mean, I took it at school," Sirius shrugged.
"Well look at you being all clever," Harry said. It came out far less clever than he intended but Sirius took it in stride.
"Scientia ipsa potentia est," Sirius answered.
"Bless you," Harry said. "But if Runes isn't in Latin then why do you know it?"
"The Blacks liked to claim they could trace their lineage back to the Gracchi and as such we should master the mother tongue," Sirius said.
"Can they?"
"Well I did some extensive research into it in my freetime to fill my own morbid curiosity and it turns out, no, not even close," Sirius said in a playful tone. "In fact, next to no Italian roots at all. Turns out we were just dirty barbarians."
"Makes sense," Harry teased.
"But hey, in the end scientia non olet, I guess," Sirius said.
"You know I'm not going to ask you what any of that means, right?" Harry said. Sirius merely smiled at him and brought the conversation back around.
"Well what did you want to talk about then?"
"I mentioned you to Skeeter. I think it may create some buzz. Figured you should be aware," Harry said.
"In your interview?" Sirius asked.
"No. It slipped out before that. But I implied that if she did some digging into say, your court records, that I may be willing to discuss some other things with her. And I flat out named Pettigrew. While I think she's awful, I don't think she's terrible at her job. I suspect she'll put two-and-two together and if article one is nearly as popular as you think, well, I more or less teed up article number two for her."
"Gross, Harry, a golf analogy?"
"Uncle Vernon loves golf," Harry shrugged, suppressing the memories of the scolding he'd received when he'd pointed out that if his performance was below par then he must be doing well.
"Do you think Rita writing anything about me will, well, do anything?" Sirius asked.
"No idea. But I can't imagine it would hurt. What are they going to do, host an international man-hunt so you wind up confined to a house for the next couple of years?" Harry responded.
"Fair enough."
"And honestly, the more I think about it, the more I suspect people are just not aware of what happened. And anything that affects their credibility now can't hurt. The more things I can prove they're lying about, the more I can convince people that I'm not," Harry said.
"Well, you have a point there. But I'm not sure it's the best course of action," Sirius answered. He paused for a moment. "Not because I think it's a bad idea. But I'm just not sure how much you want to give them trouble while you're still at school. Maybe over the summer we'll have some better luck?"
"I can't keep doing this Sirius," Harry answered, coolly.
"What?"
"I'm going insane. I can't keep being the smiley good student that just answers 'yes Professor' over and over. I can't take Umbridge's saccharine smugness anymore. I'm going to break," Harry said. He paused to take a deep breath.
"Harry," Sirius started, but he kept talking.
"And I'd much rather it be on my terms than hers. I'm so angry every day it's just boiling over in me. The only time I feel like I'm not ready to jump down someone's throat is when I'm Kaden. I'm going to say something stupid, or do something stupid, or ruin something important to me if I keep it all bottled up. I'm barely sleeping, the damn dreams of that stupid hallway won't go away," Harry continued. This time Sirius interrupted him.
"I thought Snape was giving you Occlumency lessons to help with that," Sirius said.
"His version of lessons is hexing me while yelling at me to defend myself. I have no fucking idea what I'm supposed to be doing. I'm half tempted to send a series of Bludgeoning hexes into his balls and asking him if that was defensive enough," Harry spat. It drew a laugh out of Sirius before his expression shifted back to normal.
"That isn't good," he started but Harry interrupted him.
"Padma is helping me a bit before our Defense meetings. She and her sister took some lessons in it a few years ago. Her way is definitely more meditative," Harry countered. "It's helped some but after Snape my brain just hurts and I can't focus enough to do any of it."
"Twins I take it? That's pretty common," Sirius said.
"Yes," Harry answered. Sirius paused and Harry saw him move toward the library in Grimmauld place.
"I'm not that familiar with the magic myself. I'll see if I can find something in the library that may help. I'd have preferred Dumbledore to teach you, but," he let his voice trail off. Harry snorted and figured it best to mention that he'd barely even seen Dumbledore that year.
"Thanks," Harry said. He doubted anything would come of it but if it gave Sirius a task to do for a couple of days he knew it would help him stay sane. Sirius stepped into the library at Grimmauld place and peered at all the books before looking back into the mirror.
"Would actually be funny to do an interview with Rita myself. I bet she'd be terrified," Sirius teased.
"Maybe we'll try it this summer," Harry said. He paused for a moment and peered at the lake for a moment before looking back at the mirror. "I had one more question."
"What's that?"
"What happens when someone is expelled from Hogwarts?" Harry asked.
"What did you do?" Sirius responded, his voice growing stern for a moment.
"Nothing."
"What are you planning on doing?" Sirius said, with his brows raised.
"Nothing," Harry said.
"Then why do you want to know?" Sirius asked.
"Because I'm sick of not knowing what exactly their threats mean. Umbridge hasn't brought it up directly in a month or so. I want to know what actually happens," Harry said. Sirius paused and looked at him. After a moment he shook his head.
"I'll be honest, Harry, I'm not positive myself. One sixth year 'Puff was expelled in my seventh year for something involving one of his younger housemates. He wound up in Azkaban. But that was obviously criminal more than just breaking school rules," Sirius answered.
"And if it's not criminal?" Harry asked.
"I don't know. I think the student is asked to leave the castle and there is a, well, I guess hearing is the best word. A review maybe? Of their actions. And then they determine if the student should be allowed to return or not. I believe it's the Heads of House that are supposed to decide with the deciding vote going to the Headmaster in the event of a draw," Sirius said.
"And then they take your wand and snap it?" Harry asked.
"No. That fell out of favor in the fifties. As long as there aren't charges coming, you're more than welcome to try to find another institution to continue your education at, if they'll have you. Being expelled from a school doesn't banish you from the world," Sirius said.
"Good to know," Harry said.
"What are you planning?" Sirius asked.
"Do I strike you as the type that plans?" Harry retorted. Again, Sirius raised his brows.
"Yes. You do. Just not the type that talks about it. James was rash and would dive into anything without thinking. But Lily was more measured and had a clearer eye for the outcomes. You, Harry, do not strike me as the type that acts without forethought," Sirius answered. Harry blinked into the mirror. He hadn't expected that answer.
"What gave you that impression?" he asked.
"I watch you with your friends. You're quiet, but it's clear you're always thinking. And often one or two steps ahead of them. I think you plan far more than you let on. And are smart enough to know the illusion of the moment is beneficial," Sirius said.
"I think you're giving me too much credit," Harry answered.
"So what's spurred this on. I can't imagine you haven't been stewing on it for months," Sirius said.
"I told you, I can't do this any more. I can't be the perfect, smiling demure little student. I'm driving myself insane," Harry said. "I'm going to snap. And I don't want that to happen when I'm chatting with Ron, or snogging Daphne, or doing something I otherwise enjoy. I can't take much more of it. I need an outlet."
"The Defense club not doing it for you?"
"It helps here and there. The gaming sessions are better. But both are just another spot where I might do something stupid and ruin everything. Anyway, this is your fault," Harry said.
"What did I do now?" Sirius laughed.
"Should have paid more attention to the books you left in my bedroom," Harry said.
"Oh?" Sirius laughed. "I'm more surprised you actually touched most of them. I sure didn't."
"Paged through a couple. One had a quote that stuck with me."
"Care to share?"
"Anything is better than indecision. Not deciding wastes time and ruins everything," Harry summarized.
"I see," Sirius said. "And you feel like you're doing nothing."
"I am doing nothing. Which I suppose is a decision. But it's clearly wasting time and doing nothing," Harry said. "And every day it gets worse. I can't fathom how doing anything different wouldn't improve my situation. And the second half of the quote implies that the sooner you act the sooner you'll know if it's the right course and the more time you'll have to correct if it's not. So I'm going to improve my situation."
"How?"
"I suspect I'm going to get expelled," Harry said.
"Harry," Sirius started.
"Oh don't worry. I'm not going to do anything indefensible. But I am going to force her hand," Harry said.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"No. But it's that or kill her at this point. And if I kill her, she wins," Harry answered, his tone even and serious. Sirius's brows shot up.
"Harry," he started but Harry heard a voice calling to him and looked up to see Daphne walking out toward the lake.
"I have to go," he said. Sirius looked ready to argue with him but merely nodded Harry tucked the mirror back into his bag and walked to join Daphne.
She talked about how she'd spent most of Runes staring out the window of the tower while watching him chill at the lake and wanted to join him. So they sauntered around the lake.
He asked her questions about runes and she answered then and from there the conversation shifted to the general inane things that happened at the school. She teased him about the mirror but he didn't tell her exactly what it was for.
It nagged at part of him, but she didn't press. He'd have to, at some point, he knew. At least if he wanted anything serious. That was too big of a secret to keep in the bag. But a part of him just didn't want to have that conversation now. Things with Daphne always felt easier than he'd have expected. And, while he assumed she'd believe him, it never seemed like the right time to bring up his Godfather who just happened to be a wanted fugitive on the run from the law.
She seemed a little annoyed by it but the annoyance only lasted a minute or two before their conversation shifted to their current predicament in the campaign. They seemed more to talk around it than say anything. Harry thought he was picking up on more of what Neville was doing than most. But they still didn't share anything. And he supposed he had an advantage or two.
They spent the rest of the afternoon together before walking to the Great Hall for dinner. She slipped away from him and went to sit next to Dylan for dinner. She seemed to shift seamlessly into the conversation with Dylan and a couple of his friends, before smiling happily at Tracey Davis and joining into that conversation.
Honestly, Harry was jealous. He didn't ever seem to be able to just plop down and feel comfortable like that. He wondered what that must feel like as he sat next to Ron and said nothing as Ron and Dean ranted about Professor Snape's homework for the evening.
Harry wasn't that concerned about it. He'd read the portion, write the essay, recheck the text to make sure everything made sense, and then get it back in a week with a failing grade. He was almost positive Snape was trying to kill his motivation so he could show actual lackluster work and then point to it when Harry brought up unfair grading.
He had a plan for that, mind you, but there were more pressing issues to deal with at this point. He ate his dinner quietly, only Neville even asked him anything during the meal. And that was related to Dumbledore's Army. At least before he asked about convincing Daphne to do an extra session as he wanted them to be split up while the characters were split up. Harry agreed and figured he'd bring it up later.
He retired to the common room after dinner and worked on his homework. Part of him thought he should have asked Daphne if she wanted to do Charms or Transfiguration together but the thought hadn't occurred to him while they were hanging out.
The rest of the day went to finishing his homework. It wasn't anything too difficult and he finished it quickly and settled back into his traditional routine as the days continued to bleed past.
It was about ten days later when it finally happened. He walked down to the Great Hall for Breakfast as he normally would and sat as his usual seat as other students filtered in. Hermione and Neville were already there. Ron wasn't, but he'd been up late finishing his homework after Quidditch so Harry expected he'd show up eventually.
Harry peered at the breakfast options but wasn't feeling all that hungry. He took a couple of pieces of toast and an apple and started eating. It seemed like only moments later when the morning post fluttered into the Great Hall. It only took a minute for Harry to realize there was rather more mail than usual.
And only a few moments after that to realize that a great deal of it was directed at him. He peered around the Great Hall as a trove of letters landed in front of him. Dylan and Daphne entered the hall with Astoria and one of her friends that Harry thought was named Eva. She eyed him and the pile of mail as they walked toward the Slytherin table.
Ron followed them in and gestured for Neville to make room at the table and sat next to Harry. He yawned and speared a trio of sausages onto his fork and started to pile eggs onto his plate.
"What's this?" he asked.
"Fan mail, I'm assuming," Harry said, watching it pile up. Instead he picked up a magazine sized manilla envelope and opened it. He slid a copy of the Quibbler out of it and stared down at his own smiling face looking back up at him. It was a headshot from before the final task of the Triwizard Tournament the year before.
He paged it open and skimmed the first article about the ongoing Rotfang conspiracy mostly to annoy Hermione who kept insisting he should page to his article. Ron, for his part, kept asking him questions about who was involved with the Rotfangs, adding that it couldn't have been the Seeker for the Cannons, like the article implied, as there was no way any conspiracy would include someone that bad at his day job. Even Neville got a quip in about it.
Finally he paged to the article about him. Rita was favorable, and didn't misquote him a single time. In fact, she even clarified his words a few times. And was rather critical of the Ministry in her prose. She would point out the multiple contradictions in their stories before citing what Harry said had happened, and would cite how his story made far more sense than anyone else's.
He handed it to Hermione when he finished reading, without comment, and started opening some of the other mail. He should have likely been a bit more careful with them than he was, but no vile goo spilled out of any of them.
The first few he opened weren't anything special. Most dithered, saying they didn't want to believe him, but also didn't want Lord Voldemort to be back. Harry opened up about a dozen of them before he found one that believed him fully.
He laughed as a photo fell out of it and raised his brows down at the pristine pink ink on the clean white parchment. He stared at it for a moment as the perfect cursive thanked him for his honesty and he must be so brave to put up with all of it. He flipped the photo over and saw a familiar, smiling, winking face and couldn't help but laugh a little. She'd signed it in the same practiced hand.
Well, he thought, maybe it wasn't a total waste of time if Chloe Selpie herself was writing letters to him. He showed it to Ron, who was rummaging through some other mail.
"Damn," Ron laughed. "Can I keep that?"
"No."
"Daphne will be jealous."
"Wow," Neville said. Hermione scoffed and started to grab at some of the other letters while Harry and Ron kept peering at the photo. He tucked it into his bag and went back through the mail. It was a lot of the same, but he took a minute to read each letter figuring that if someone took the time to write to him he may as well peer at their words. The Quibbler continued to make its rounds around the table, causing enough of a commotion that Professor Umbridge came over to see.
"What do we have here, Mister Potter?" she asked as Harry opened another letter.
"Mail," he said. "I get it often. You should see what happens on my birthday."
"What is this occasion then?" Umbridge asked with her faux sweetness.
"The Quibbler ran an interview he did," Hermione answered. Harry winced. He wouldn't have been so direct about it. Part of him thought she may not have actually read it if they'd have just acted confused and blamed the magazine. It was, afterall, the Quibbler, and he doubted Umbridge would waste her time with it. It would have been so easy. A simple 'I don't know Professor, it looks like Rita Skeeter is at it again' would have washed everything away.
"You did what, Mister Potter?" she asked.
"An interview," Hermione repeated, trying to sound as haughty as she could. Harry wanted to hit her. She just couldn't help herself. She thought she'd been so clever and now she had to make sure everyone knew.
"And when did you do this?" Umbridge said. Harry glared at Hermione and she seemed to wise up.
"Last Hogsmeade trip. But I'm not sure I'd call it an interview," Harry said, figuring he could at least try to steer the narrative a little.
"Why not, Mister Potter?" Umbridge asked, her brows raised.
"Well, Rita Skeeter cornered and harassed my friends and I at the Leaky Cauldron last Hogsmeade trip. She refused to leave or leave us alone until I answered some of her questions. Honestly, given that your ministry made me sit down with with her last year I figured it was something the Ministry wanted me to do," Harry said.
"Why on Earth would you think that?" Umbrdige spat.
"Because everything I said to her last year wound up being misquoted garbage that made me look like a psychopath so I figured she'd probably do the same thing," Harry answered. Umbridge stared at him for a few moments before shaking her head.
"No more Hogsmeade trips for you, Mister Potter," she said.
"For being harassed while having lunch with my friends? That seems fair. Isn't it on the school to protect students from things like that?" Harry asked.
"Of course, Mister Potter. And I'm going to protect you by not putting you in that situation again," Umbridge said with a smile. Harry fought the urge to wince, figuring he walked right into that one.
"So I get harassed while out with my friends and I get punished for it?" Harry said. He kept his tone even and raised his brows as he looked back at her.
"Are you arguing with me, Mister Potter?" Professor Umbridge asked. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him.
"Of course not," Harry answered, his tone still even. "Merely asking for an explanation."
"It sounds like you're asking for a detention," Professor Umbridge said. Harry merely sighed and shook his head, doing his best to make it seem like he was accepting his fate. She snatched the magazine away from Neville and stared at the cover. "And I thought we had these lies out of your system."
But she was too distracted by the magazine as she stalked off to read the article. Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath before speaking.
"Thanks, Hermione," he scoffed.
"What did I do?" she asked, looking affronted that she could have possibly done anything wrong.
"You just can't help yourself, can you?" he asked. "You're so fucking clever."
"Harry!" Hermione yelled.
"Hey man, that's harsh," Neville said. Harry looked over at him and noticed Padma was glaring from the Ravenclaw table. Although she was glaring, oddly, at Neville, as he defended Hermione. Harry wondered if Neville would ever figure it out. He figured maybe, but not until after Padma shagged him. And he'd probably ask for clarification even then.
"What did I do?" she asked. Harry rose from the table and gathered up his bag.
"Had you not immediately told her what was going on, we could have probably conned her into thinking it was just standard Quibbler nonsense and at least bought some time or given her something else to pursue. It would have been so fucking easy. 'No idea Professor, apparently the Quibbler published an article about me.' Hell, making them go after the magazine could have helped us. Instead nope, of course it was Harry, see how clever we were to try to go around you!"
"Harry, you know that wasn't my intention," Hermione argued. Harry glared at her and tossed his bag over his shoulder.
"Could have fooled me. And I got punished for it regardless. Like I told you would happen. Perhaps this is a lesson to both keep your mouth shut and maybe, just maybe, let me make my own decisions," Harry said. He decided to leave it at that and walked to the exit of the Great Hall. He wasn't as annoyed as he let on. But he wanted to let her stew on it. He heard feet behind him on the stone floor and turned, half expecting that Hermione had followed him in hopes of continuing the argument. He fixed a glare on his face and spun around to chastise her, intending this one to be far more personal out of the public eye.
"Oh!" Daphne squealed, looking startled. Harry let the glare slide off his face and smiled. It was easy to do whenever he saw her.
"Oh, hey," he said, his tone happy and bright.
"You okay?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked at him. "Granger looked like she was about to cry. Neville was comforting her."
"Padma will love that," Harry laughed.
"Padma will kill her eventually, so," Daphne shrugged, the joke fell flat so she added. "But seriously, you okay?"
"Peachy," he said, jovially. She stared at him and tilted her head to the side as if that would help her see more clearly. He smiled.
"You are, aren't you?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said. "Had to put on a bit of a show."
"You knew she'd do that," Daphne said.
"Of course. Umbridge is very predictable," Harry said.
"And the bit with Hermione was for show?" Daphne blinked.
"Well, not really. It was true and I'm going to have to be harsher with her soon if the message doesn't sink in. I don't understand why it's so hard for her to just shut her damn mouth sometimes. But maybe she'll think to ask me next time she decides to make appointments for me," Harry said. He shrugged his shoulders and watched as Daphne tucked a strand of her dark blonde hair behind her ear.
"I see," she said. "So you didn't need me to come out and make sure you were alright?"
"Hopefully I didn't ruin your breakfast," Harry said with a smile.
"No, I was done eating," she said.
"Should I walk you to class then?" he asked.
"We both have first period free," Daphne answered.
"Right," he said. He paused for a moment and tilted his head to the side. "Want to go snog by the lake?"
"Yes, but first did you finish the Charms homework for today?"
"Yeah."
"Can you help me with it? I got distracted by Runes and then Tracey and Pansy wanted to know if you were a good kisser," Daphne said.
"Am I?"
"Best I've had," Daphne shrugged but gave him a coquettish smile.
"I'll take it," he laughed. He almost asked if he'd been her first kiss. She'd been his. But he realized he didn't care one way or the other and given how she talked he was fairly sure he was. They walked to a spare study room and she took out her Charms homework. They worked together through it without much of an issue. Harry had already done the assignment and only really offered Daphne some advice here or there so she made her way through the assignment quickly.
After she sat on his lap at one of the desks and kissed him. She was warm and he rather liked holding her on him like that. Somehow, he found himself rather jealous knowing that somewhere in a fantasy world his alter ego was in bed with hers. Granted, he was passed out and likely in a great deal of pain and feverish, but dammit, he didn't care.
Either way he enjoyed kissing her until she slipped away from him and slid off his lap. She peered down at him but he only blushed and looked away, which made her giggle. She slid her hand into his and they walked out of the classroom.
"So how many detentions are you going to get today?" she asked.
"Well, I'm not even sure if the first one stuck or not, she seemed distracted. She may have forgotten about it," Harry said.
"She also may transform into a good teacher," Daphne said.
"That would make my life easier," Harry answered. They walked toward the Great Hall, where they'd separate for their classes that day. He saw a group of students milling around in the Great Hall as Filch, the Caretaker, hammered another decree to the wall.
He and Daphne walked over toward it. They stood behind Ron and Hermione as Filch finished hammering the decree up. Ron read it aloud.
"Any Student found in possession of The Quibbler will be expelled," Ron said. He blinked a bit. "That seems excessive."
"It's perfect," Hermione said.
"How on Earth is that perfect?" Ron asked. He noticed Harry and Daphne had walked up behind them and nodded toward the pair. Hermione looked at Harry and shifted away slightly, peering at the ground for a moment.
"Yeah that doesn't seem great to me," Neville said from the other side, staring up at the decree.
"No it's perfect," Hermione said. "Can't you see. The only way she could have made sure that everyone at Hogwarts would read it is to ban it!"
"Oh," Neville chuckled. It drew a glare from Padma Patil standing nearby. Harry elbowed Daphne gently and nodded toward Padma and Neville. She turned to look and giggled, rolling her eyes at Harry.
"That's actually pretty smart," Ron said. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.
"Well, at least we know everyone will read it," Hermione said. Harry snorted. Hermione turned to glare at him as he slid his arm around Daphne's shoulder. Daphne leaned against him and peered up at him.
"Hermione," Harry sighed. He shook his head and looked at her. "I'm surprised I have to say this. But, you think too small."
"Excuse me?" Hermione asked. Daphne blinked as if something dawned on her in that instant.
"You're going to get yourself expelled?" she asked.
"For having a magazine? That seems silly, doesn't it?" Harry asked.
"You can't get expelled," Hermione looked absolutely alarmed, like it was the worst possible thing that could happen to him.
"I won't get expelled, Hermione," Harry sighed. "I'd miss Daphne too much."
"Prat," Daphne said, hitting him on the arm.
"What? The snogging is the highlight of my day," Harry said.
"I could always get expelled with you," Daphne suggested with a teasing smile.
"Your education is more important than some snogging!" Hermione hissed.
"Eh," Harry said. Daphne giggled.
"What are you going to do?" Daphne asked.
"Just some minor civil disobedience," Harry said.
"You've read Thoreau?" Hermione blinked.
"Who?" Harry asked.
"Of course," Hermione scoffed.
"You know, Kaden would just kill her," Daphne said.
"No," Harry answered. "He wouldn't."
"Yes he would," Daphne laughed.
"No," Ron answered. "He wouldn't have to. Arestes, Alisen or Wyckham would have done it for him well before it got to that point." Harry nodded toward Ron. Although he did doubt that Kaden would have let it go as long as Umbridge had. But that was an argument for another day.
"Are you insulting Seralyse?" Daphne asked, obviously noticing that her character hadn't been mentioned.
"Seralyse doesn't start fights," Neville answered. "She's quick to join in and help finish them, sure. But isn't the one who starts them."
"We have to get to class, Harry," Hermione said with such vitriol that Daphne winced slightly. Harry rolled his eyes. Of course as soon as the topic shifted to something unrelated to school that she didn't approve of it needed to end immediately.
"It's History of Magic, Hermione. We can arrive ten minutes late and Binns wouldn't even notice," Harry said. "And that's assuming Ron doesn't have any Fever Fudge on him."
"Fresh out," Ron said.
"Neville?"
"I never had any of them," Neville admitted.
"You both suck," Harry said.
"We're going to class now," Hermione said. Harry looked over at Daphne.
"Can I con you into skipping Transfiguration and going to–" he started.
"Nope," she answered.
"Fine," he sighed and leaned over to kiss her. She kissed him back and they kept at it until Ron cleared his throat behind them. Harry found himself blushing when they pulled away. Daphne, for her part, only smirked at him and whispered.
"If you get expelled you won't be able to do that until summer."
"Duly noted," Harry said. Daphne slipped away from him and he wandered through the halls and toward History of Magic. It only took a few minutes after the start of class for everyone in it to be whispering questions to Harry about his interview. Professor Binns ignored it and droned on about Goblin Wars while Harry did his best to provide answers. Most of the class was looking at him in awe by the time it ended.
Transfiguration followed. Which seemed normal, at least until Harry got twenty house points for collecting everyone's homework. Which McGonagall would usually do with a flick of her wand. She patted him approvingly on the shoulder and then started her lesson.
Charms was much the same. During lunch he found most of the students in the Great Hall staring at him. A few walked up to him and tried to say something, but often a glare from Umbridge often sent them back to their tables.
But Hermione was right. He hadn't seen a copy of the Quibbler all day, but it was clear everyone knew the content of the interview. Even the more annoying Slytherin students, like Malfoy, glared at him constantly. He did notice Malfoy also glared at Daphne and Dylan. He wondered if Malfoy would try to take out some of his frustration on his friends.
But Dylan had mentioned that Malfoy had been rather reserved this year. And that a small, but gradually growing group of students that didn't much care for him and were now growing more vocal. Still, he suspected he should tell Daphne to be aware. And she'd probably roll her eyes at him. But it would make him feel slightly better.
Then he noticed something.
He'd heard, although he hadn't quite believed, that one of their former Beaters had laid into Draco and the Quidditch team toward the end of the last season. Which, granted had been nearly two years ago by this point. But he'd been respected enough in the house to turn the sentiment somewhat against Draco. And that the continued inability to beat Gryffindor at Quidditch was souring some of the house.
Now he was seeing it in real time. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were all sequestered away from the rest of the house at the Slytherin table. While he may have assumed it was because he'd named their parents Death Eaters in his article. Theodore Nott didn't seem to be having the same problems.
Of course, he knew next to nothing about Nott. The boy kept to himself more or less. He was quiet, but smart and helpful when it came to group work. There were far worse partners to be assigned. And he was sitting at the Slytherin table and eating lunch as normal with his nose in a book and a quill scribbling at an assignment. Every now and then someone would talk to him, and he'd respond. Harry watched for a moment before it was time to head to Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Umbridge was fuming when they entered. She insisted on inspecting the bags of students as they entered but Harry slipped around her while she was busy with Ron and took his usual seat next to Daphne. If she noticed, she didn't give him a hard time about it. He took his usual seat and pulled out his textbook, some parchment and a quill before waiting for the class to begin.
He found himself surprisingly twitchy as he stared at the clock. His foot tapped repeatedly against the ground, making enough noise that Hermione glared at him. He figured he was being a little too obvious and focused on settling down.
Umbridge started the class as normal. She didn't mention the interview or the Quibbler. Instead she just glared daggers at Harry, as if he was entirely responsible for making her day miserable.
He wondered how it would feel to go through life so clueless. She clearly thought about it. Everything was his fault. It couldn't have been anything else. She'd made that decision and she couldn't possibly be wrong. He wondered if having to admit a fault would have broken her entire mental state.
He supposed he'd just have to find out. As is, he was moderately surprised that she didn't try to bait him into something. But apparently earlier in the day she had tried to discuss the Quibbler, only to have multiple students point out it wasn't directly related to her subject so she was not allowed to talk about it. Allegedly it resulted in about a dozen detentions.
Either way, she assigned her typical chapter from the remedial book. He was one of the few students in class who hadn't worked ahead. Mostly because she had a habit of focusing on him during class. Other students could sleep, read anything else, or not pay any attention and she didn't care. But if it was him, no chance.
The assignment only took him about ten minutes. He read through it after he finished to make sure there were absolutely no mistakes. When he was satisfied with his work he put the book back into his bag. Hermione hissed at him, seeing he was clearly not doing work and made to say something.
But the words died in her throat as she saw him pull a magazine out of his bag. Her eyes went wide in fear as he leaned back at his desk, put his feet up on it, and started to read from last January's issue of the Quibbler.
He paged to the article mentioned on the front page about the mating habits of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. There was about twenty seconds of silence before Umbridge spoke.
"Mister Potter, what are you doing?" she asked. There was an undertone of glee in her faux saccharine voice. Harry ignored her for a moment, finishing the page he was on, and then folded the magazine down and peered at Umbridge.
"Reading about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks," Harry answered.
"Did you see the most recent Educational Decree?" Umbridge asked.
"I did," Harry said.
"Surrender your wand, Mister Potter," Umbridge said. Her toad-like face curled into a smile as she stood at her desk and stared at him. Harry peered up at her and folded the magazine back upwards and continued reading.
"Pass," he said.
"Mister Potter!" Umbridge said more forcibly. "I must insist."
"You're not getting my wand," he said. "They haven't confiscated wands since the fifties. And even then from what I gather only in cases of a criminal offense. If you want to expel me, go for it. I'll gladly gather up my belongings and leave the school. And I look forward to my hearing where you go on the record for expelling Harry Potter from Hogwarts for the heinous crime of reading an old issue of a tabloid."
"You will-" Umbridge started, her face flushing a deep red and her eyes going wild.
"Leave? Gladly," Harry said. He kept his temper under control, knowing full well that he couldn't slip up at this moment.
"Surrender your wand now, Mister Potter!" Umbridge said.
"No." Harry responded.
"I must insist," Umbridge said. She drew her own wand and leveled it on Harry. "Now."
"Or what?" Harry asked. Umbridge's arm started to shake as she held it on him. Harry hadn't even bothered to take his feet off of his desk.
"I.." Umbridge hesitated. Harry smirked.
"You what? Going to hex me in front of twenty witnesses? How well do you think that will make you look? Hell, go for it," he said. He put the magazine down on the desk and put his feet down. He stood and opened his arms, making himself a large and very unarmed target. "Do you think you'll even make it out of the room if you hex me? They'd even have an excuse. If you attack one unarmed student what is preventing you from attacking them? They were scared for their lives."
"Are you threatening me?" Umbridge asked and peered around the room, noticing that a few of the Gryffindor students had their wands on the table. None of them were pointing them at her, but they were all out on their desks. Sometimes, he loved his housemates.
"I'm not the one with a wand drawn," Harry laughed, holding up his clearly empty hands. "But if an unarmed teenager scares you that much, should you be teaching?"
Umbridge continued to turn red. Her eyes darted around the entire room, and then to the door, but she didn't dare move. He could see the panic rising on her face. And then Neville spoke.
"Hey Harry?" he asked. Harry turned and saw Neville had duplicated his copy of the Quibbler and was reading it.
"Yeah?"
"You see this bit about how Bowman Wright cursed the Cannons because of their abysmal record of cruelty toward Snidgets centuries ago?" Neville asked.
"Mister Longbottom!" Umbridge screamed.
"What? That's bullshit! They were no worse than any of the other teams!" Ron argued. He pointed his wand at Neville's copy of the Quibbler and another one appeared on his desk. He paged to the article in question in a huff.
"Mister Weasley!" Umbridge yelled. All it did was draw a laugh from both Seamus and Dean, who just had to see the article themselves. And then Lavender noticed that the cover contained a tease of an article about how to use Glitterwing dust as a beauty enhancer so she needed to see what they said about that.
From there it snowballed. Soon, almost every student in the Defense class, including about half of the Slytherin students, held a copy of The Quibbler. Harry stood in the middle of them and focused on Umbridge. He saw Neville slip out of the classroom and into the hallway.
"Well, I guess you have to expel us all, Professor," Harry said. "I'm sure quite a few of our parents are going to be very confused as to why the possession of a joke magazine led to such harsh punishment. The reviews about our obviously abhorrent behavior will certainly be fun. Do you think the ministry will want to do them all at once or individually? I think individually is far more fair. But it will certainly take longer and keep the story in the public for longer," Harry said.
He could see the fury in her eyes. And it was all directed at him. He smirked, trying to make himself look as obnoxious as possible. He didn't think she was brave enough to try to curse him. But she knew he'd beaten her. If he could defang one of her decrees, he could defang all of them. Her power resided in people fearing her punishments. And now, none would. The wheels were spinning, looking for a situation where she could save face. Some way where she could turn the situation to her benefit. And with each passing moment her eyes grew more wild.
"Perhaps," she said slowly, as if trying to keep her tone measured. "The latest decree was too hasty. As none of you are reading the current issue of the Quibbler with its filthy lies I think the punishment can be a warning for now. But unfortunately, Mister Potter, it will be a week of detention for you for interrupting class."
"Not a chance," Harry said. Again Umbridge's eyes bulged out. She clearly expected him to cave to the lesser punishment. To take his minor win and to let her beat him down later. But Harry only laughed.
"Excuse me?"
"Well for one, I didn't interrupt class. I was being perfectly quiet. You interrupted it yourself. If you'd like to spend a week of detention under my supervision, I'll think about it. But mostly I don't think I want you in my presence for a millisecond longer than necessary. And for two, you just threatened me. For the great crime of reading a magazine you don't like. I am not going to sit alone in detention with you. You've already made me disfigure myself. I can't imagine what your next punishment will be. That does not feel like a wise or safe decision for me," Harry said, holding his scarred hand up. "And, according to Hogwarts, A History a student can protest any punishment they deem inappropriate and request a review and an alternate method. So I request a review and an alternate method." Worst case, he figured, McGonagall would make him spend a few nights grading first years papers.
"He's right," Hermione blinked. She looked at Harry and smiled, clearly impressed. Harry couldn't help but smile back at her.
"Honestly," Harry laughed, turning his gaze back to Umbridge. "Do you even know the rules of the institution you're trying to run?"
"Mister Potter!" Umbridge growled.
"What? Are you finally expelling me? I'll gladly wait for you to fetch Professor McGonagall and inform her of my expulsion. Would you prefer I wait here or should I start to pack my things? I'm sure either of the Gryffindor Prefects will happily escort me to the common room. Or I believe the Ravenclaws are in Charms at the moment down the hall, I suspect they'd be willing to do so as well if you preferred to appear unbiased. The Slytherin prefects and I don't have the best track record, but I suppose Parkinson would be fine. I'm not going anywhere with Malfoy," Harry said. Malfoy was glaring daggers at him from the back corner of the classroom. Pansy, however, was holding a copy of The Quibbler and looked almost star-struck. He could hear a commotion from the hallway and wondered just what it was.
Peeves the poltergeist floated through a wall and into the classroom. He looked at the students and the Quibbler magazines in their hands and cackled before flying gleefully out of the room as the commotion grew.
"You," she growled at him. Harry merely walked toward the door of the classroom. He turned his back to her and walked out.
"Fine. I'll go do it myself. Such a shame, all of us being expelled," he said as he threw the door open. He smiled as soon as he did and thought Neville was quite the magnificent bastard.
The Ravenclaw charms students all stood with copies of the Quibbler in their hands. Professor Flitwick was making a token effort to get them back into the classroom, but even he was smirking. Further down the hall a group of older and younger students were all doing the same. Harry backed into the hall with his arms open and peered back at Umbridge as she followed him out, her wand still leveled on him.
"Uh oh, Professor. It seems there's more copies of the Quibbler than I thought. That's a lot of expulsion hearings to plan. Can mine be first? I'd prefer to get out of Britain as soon as I can," Harry teased. Padma, Neville, Daphne and Dylan all moved to flank him, clutching Quibblers to their chests.
He saw Professor McGonagall move up toward Flitwick, a mixed group of Seventh Year students following her. As they approached more copies of the Quibbler appeared. He thought at least a hundred students were now in the hallway, each with the banned magazine in their hands. McGonagall raised her brows at Flitwick, who shrugged, and watched the scene.
"Minerva, Filius, help me!" Umbridge begged. McGonagall raised her eyebrows and looked around the hallway. She kept her expression completely blank and turned it back to Professor Umbridge.
"With what, Dolores?" she asked.
"You! You!" Umbridge spat. She jabbed her wand toward Harry, causing McGonagall to shift in front of him protectively. "You can see what they're doing!"
"Had you bothered to take any of your preliminary teaching courses that were graciously offered to you, Dolores, you would know one crucial aspect is to never devise a punishment you can't carry out. I believe the students are calling your bluff. A mass expulsion from Hogwarts will certainly be an interesting way to end the school year," McGonagall said, looking around and stroking her chin. "It's going to take ages to go through all the formalities. And I would strongly advise against raising your wand against a student. But I was planning on visiting the Azores this summer so if I get an extra month or so to do it, well, there's worse fates."
"You all want me to fail. You all hate Cornelius!" Umbridge answered. "You wanted me to fail every day!"
"I assure you, Dolores, we want nothing but the success of the school," Flitwick said.
"Lies! You want Dumbledore to be Minister. You believe this boy's lies! He is the problem! We shouldn't even have these problems. If only my Dementors had done their job! This boy is the problem. He must be silenced!"
"Excuse me," Harry spat, feeling rage fill him in a moment. His entire body shook with annoyance at her. Suddenly the last piece from his summer fell into place. His eyes narrowed and he fought against the urge to simply rid himself of her. "Your Dementors?"
Umbridge, for her part, turned sheet white and stepped back away from him.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said.
"Your Dementors?" he repeated, angrily. He stopped himself from moving closer to her. He did not want to get within arms reach. He knew he couldn't hurt her. At least not physically. He couldn't make her the victim. He had to keep his cool.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Umbridge repeated.
"You sent the Dementors that attacked me and my cousin. And then you had the gall to sit at the trial and act all innocent about it," Harry growled.
"You can't prove it," Umbridge spat back, the color flushing through her again.
"I don't have to. I have a hundred witnesses who just heard you admit to it," Harry said.
"That won't matter when you're gone," Umbridge growled. Harry found himself in the middle of the hallway, not close to anyone else. She slashed her wand at him and yelled "Procella!"
The world shifted around him. Everything became unstable, for a moment, he felt like he was fighting against a storm, like waves were rocking him around, battering him with unseen force, disorienting him. Something inside him whispered for him to shift, to roll against it, to focus on the center of it.
He obeyed the command, holding himself against the spell, remembering every defensive charm he'd researched for Dumbledore's Army. He grit his teeth against the pain as force continued to hit him. He heard screams from some of the students. He heard McGonagall yell. He saw Flitwick move to try to help him.
And he saw Neville dive into it, letting the magic batter him as well as he moved to take any of the spell for Harry. His face contorted in pain, causing the rage to build even more in Harry.
He closed his eyes and let his own power well. He let his magic dispel hers. It seemed easier than he'd have anticipated as the power welled in him, spurred on by his own confidence and anger. He let the magic flare off of him, he let her waves crash against the power of his shield, and he took one step toward her.
A small voice in the back of his head chuckled with amusement and what felt oddly like pride.
Umbridge dropped her wand and stared at him.
"I win," Harry said. Umbridge blinked as Harry wandlessly summoned her wand to him. He held it out for McGonagall to take from him. His head of house looked shocked at him and then took the wand.
"Professor Umbridge you will be removed from all teaching duties pending a formal hearing for attacking a student," McGonagall said. She turned and her eyes met Professor Snape's. To Harry's surprise, the Potions master was staring at him, his eyes wide with surprise.
As their eyes met, Harry felt a needle of something trying to poke into his mind. A fury rose in the back of his mind that seemed almost intrusive. He flexed the magic he'd used to dissipate Umbridge's spell on instinct and watched as Snape recoiled away as if he'd been slapped, his eyes widening in shock.
"Severus," McGonagall continued. "Please send a missive to the ministry and inform them of what happened here. Septima, would you be so kind as to restrain Professor Umbridge until the Ministry and Governors arrive? Pomona, fetch Professor Dumbledore."
"Right away," Septima Vector, the Arithmancy professor, said as she rushed to guard Umbridge. Some of the students started muttering, clearly figuring out what had just happened. Snape rushed off to owl the Ministry. McGonagall turned to look at Harry. Her expression was serious, but there was a hint of something in her eyes. Pride, he thought?
"Mister Potter, Mister Longbottom," she said slowly.
"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked.
"Yeah?" Neville added, looking more shaken than Harry felt.
"I must apologize on behalf of Hogwarts for what just happened. It is wholly inappropriate in every situation for a teacher to attempt magic on a student. Even more so magic designed to hurt and maim. You are well within your rights to put forth charges against her for assault," McGonagall said, clinically.
"That is absurd!" Umbridge screamed. She tried to rush toward them to defend herself but Professor Vector stepped between her and the boys.
"I see," Harry said.
"I'd like to talk to my grandmother," Neville answered, woozily. McGonagall nodded and peered around. Her eyes rested on Padma Patil, who was biting her bottom lip and staring at Neville with wide eyes.
"Miss Patil, would you escort Mister Longbottom to my office? He can use my personal floo to contact his Grandmother," McGonagall said.
"Right away, Professor!" Padma said cheerily. She practically pulled Neville away, holding him by his arm and whispering about how brave he was. Neville blushed and looked more embarrassed than anything. Harry shook his head at the scene and, to his surprise, McGonagall did too.
"Mister Potter?" she asked after a moment. Harry shrugged.
"I think we should all have to answer for our actions," Harry answered. McGonagall grimaced slightly but nodded. He wondered if she took it as an insult. As the Professors hadn't taken much action to stop Umbridge. Although they had been rather handcuffed.
"Right you are," she agreed. She looked at him for a moment before walking to greet the approaching Professor Dumbledore. His friends swarmed him as soon as she left him alone. Harry peered at Dumbledore but the headmaster didn't look his way. He couldn't blame him, though. It wasn't like Dumbledore could openly celebrate the situation.
"That was awesome," Ron said.
"You're so brave," Daphne gushed.
"You couldn't have done it four months ago?" Dylan asked.
"Hey!" Daphne scolded.
"No," Harry laughed. "I needed her to do something she couldn't readily enforce. I didn't quite expect the added coup from everyone else. I just knew she couldn't expel me."
"Why not?" Daphne asked.
"It's just an empty threat to try to cow me into behaving. They think I want to be here, that Dumbledore wants me here. But also when I'm here I'm more or less under their thumb. The Ministry is obviously scared of what I'm saying. If there wasn't any truth to it, they wouldn't care. Actively silencing me will just make it seem like they're afraid of what I have to say. And why be afraid if it's all crap?" Harry asked. His friends peered at him.
"But why can't they expel you then?"
"Because if I'm not here, I'm out there. Out there, I'm free to run my mouth to anyone who will listen. France, Germany, America, any other magazine in Britain, anyone. Here Umbridge and Fudge can try to limit what I can say. And know where I am. Out there, they can't. She knew she couldn't throw me in Azkaban for possessing January's edition of the Quibbler. Even the most slavishly devoted to the ministry would find that odd. And she can't expel me without a very public review of my actions. And having said hearing with the grounds being 'owned a magazine' is going to make the ministry look inept. I doubt Fudge would have ever let it get to that point. She gambled that I wouldn't know that, and that her threat would scare me into submission. I called her bluff," Harry said. He peered over at Professor Umbridge, who was glaring daggers at him.
"That's quite the gamble," Hermione huffed. Ron shrugged.
"Not really," he answered, earning himself a glare. "It was rather calculated of him."
"You're in the wrong house," Dylan laughed. Harry smiled.
"Blame Draco," Harry said.
"Why?" Daphne laughed. "Mind you, not that I have any issue blaming anything on Draco, but why?"
"The Sorting Hat thought about putting me in Slytherin," Harry admitted. Ron and Hermione both raised their brows. He'd never shared that with them. "But Malfoy had already been sorted there, and he was such a cock on the train that I wanted no part of being near him. So Gryffindor it was."
"Really?" Daphne laughed.
"I never knew that," Ron said.
"It didn't seem to matter," Harry shrugged. "It's just uniform colors and a common room."
"Don't tell Titus Button," Dylan laughed.
"Who?"
"Rookie Beater for the Bats," Ron answered quickly. "Played for Slytherin for a couple of years."
"Openly lamented that Draco was an awful Seeker and wished he could have had someone competent, like, oh, Harry Potter, after Gryffindor won the cup two years ago," Dylan said.
"Oh, speaking of, hey, Professor?" Harry asked. McGonagall and Dumbledore both looked at him.
"Yes, Harry?" McGonagall asked.
"Do you think I can get my broom back?" McGonagall's eyes lit up, as she'd obviously been every bit as impressed as the rest of the house with their team's recent performance. She seemed to weigh her words for a moment.
"Of course," she said. "Probably not for a day or two, but it would only make sense to have your property returned after this. I suspect the inquiry into today will result in a great deal of Umbridge's rulings being overturned."
"Great," Harry smiled. He turned to look at Umbridge. "I feel like I should tell you that I'm going to send it to Firebolt and have them inspect it. If a bristle is out of place I'm going to hold you personally liable," Harry said. He figured it was an empty threat, but hey, it made the color drain from Umbridge's face. Teach her to touch his racing broom, he thought with a smile.
He slid an arm around Daphne and enjoyed the warmth of her as she nestled into the crook of his neck for a moment before slipping away from him and taking his hand.
"Can we leave, Professor?" Daphne asked. This time it was Dumbledore who answered.
"Yes, Miss Greengrass. I suspect the remaining class today will be canceled for now. I think you will likely meet up with Mister Longbottom later?"
"One of us will, I'm sure," Ron said.
"Unless Padma finds a way to lock him in a closet," Dylan laughed. Dumbledore gave him a patient smile.
"I'd like to speak with the both of you in my office this evening. I suspect a liaison from the Ministry will be there to review today's events. Shall we say seven, after dinner?" Dumbledore said. He phrased it as a question but Harry knew better. He nodded.
"Of course, Professor," he said. Dumbledore nodded to him and Harry took it as the signal that they were dismissed for now. He squeezed Daphne's hand and peered around the hallway.
"Well," Daphne said, peering around. "We have a free afternoon."
"Ron needs to finish his Potions homework," Hermione scoffed. Ron laughed but shook his head.
"I guess I do," he said. He spun and took Hermione's hand. She seemed startled by it as he pulled her away from Harry and Daphne. Dylan laughed and shook his head.
"I'll make myself scarce," Dylan teased and walked back toward his friends.
"I was only going to suggest we find Neville," Daphne laughed. "Are we that bad?"
"I dunno," Harry answered, he leaned over to kiss her and she smiled against his lips.
"We must be," she answered.
"For sure," he agreed. "But if you wanted to find Neville and see if I can finally roll a high enough number for Kaden to wake up, I wouldn't argue with you."
"Your rolls suck, we'll be there all day," Daphne teased.
"It's been pretty bad," he agreed with a chuckle. This time Daphne leaned up to kiss him.
"Let's give Padma at least an hour to try to crack him before we ruin her fun," Daphne said.
"Sounds like a plan," Harry agreed as they walked toward a more secluded part of the castle. He felt oddly lighter as they did. He held her hand and enjoyed her company. Something in him thought that he accomplished something today. That he'd acted on a hunch and it had all worked out.
For now, that was good enough. He knew it wouldn't be that easy. That'd he almost certainly be grilled by Ministry officials all night. That he'd have to retell his story over and over. He'd be able to keep it straight though. It was half the reason he hadn't intentionally involved anyone else.
He couldn't help but feel like he'd crossed some type of turning point. And while he knew things wouldn't improve immediately, they would almost certainly start to get better. Even the mood in the halls seemed happier as he walked through them with Daphne. Students were smiling, and chatting, and being far more friendly than he remembered for months. It was nice, he thought, what school should be. And this time he would enjoy it to the fullest.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing. I do appreciate all of the support I receive. If you wish to support me further I can be found on PAT RE On at Te7 writes. There are ten additional chapters of this story already live over there.
Thanks again!