"The room he is using is called the Come and Go Room," Harry said as he strode into the Cathedral and interrupted a conversation between all of their tacticians, squad leaders, and anyone else with a moment to spare and an interest in what that Death Eater was doing.
"Huh?" Ron said eloquently.
"Also known as the Room of Requirements," Harry continued as he came to a stop by his friends. "It can become whatever you need it to become whether that's a bathroom or a pool or a place to study."
"How do you know?" Zacharias Smith asked with interest that was matched by many of the other DA members.
"Room like that could be right useful," Dean Thomas added.
"I asked the Hogwarts elves," the famous teen said with a head shake. "Almost didn't think to ask them until I realized they probably know more about this school than any of us."
"What else do we know about it?"
"Not much more than that," he said with a frown. "All they could say is that it always gave them cleaning supplies when they needed it."
"Somehow I doubt that is what Draco Malfoy is using it for," Hermione frowned.
"Ha, as if the git knew how to clean anything other than his own brown nose," Ron huffed.
"Point still remains," Harry said as he sat down. "We still need to figure out what he's doing and why. If he's doing it after curfew this consistently, it must be something for the Dark Lord."
"I want to know how he's getting around," Sally-Anne interjected as she looked at one of the maps replaying Draco's entrance and exit from the secret room. "He came out on the fourth floor corridor here."
"And we checked," Hestia Carrow spoke up.
"There are no passages there," her twin, Flora, finished.
"At least not usually," Harry agreed. "But it's possible that this room can create secret passages as needed."
"That's some serious magic," Blaise Zabini said. "Even for Hogwarts."
"There's entire corridors that only pop up on the weekends and doors that are only doors on Tuesday," Zara Valli, the leader of squad three and near enough the Hufflepuff princess, contributed to the discussion. "It isn't so unbelievable to think there's a room that can create passageways to anywhere in the castle."
"What I want to know is; why haven't we heard of it before?" Megan Jones asked.
"There must be a specific way to access it," Harry theorized. "Blaise, next time someone tails Malfoy tell them to stick a little closer. We need to know if he uses a password or some secret button or lever or spell to get inside of that room."
"We'll keep a closer tail," Blaise confirmed. "Hestia and Flora have agreed to be his shadow for awhile."
Harry nodded, pleased with that. "Make sure you girls are getting enough rest; get someone else to cover him whenever needed."
"We will," the grey eyed twins agreed in unison.
"Luna, have you made any progress with the map from the Huldra?"
"No," the pale blonde answered. "But I did get some information on the Huldra themselves,"
"Anything interesting?"
"They are thought to be forest spirits and are myths even in our world," she answered. "There haven't been any sightings for at least three hundred years but there are still stories of fearsome lionesses who guard the woods against those who are not one with nature. It seems they only appear during times of great trouble."
"The centaurs said that Gryffindor himself was known to run with a 'promiscuous lioness,'" Blaise remembered with some interest. "Think its true?"
"Likely," she nodded. "They are known to be seductive and Gryffindor did live in a time full of war and conflict; perhaps something drew them out of their realm in Gryffindor's time like Tom Riddle has drawn them out now."
"Guardians of their realm, so to say," Hermione mused aloud.
"Think we'll ever see them again?" Wayne Hopkins wondered.
"Doubtful," Luna shook her head. "They have helped us as much as they can; why would they return?"
"Could've helped a little more and gave us an exact map," Seamus grumbled.
"Hoops, man," Dean said to his dorm mate. "You've gotta jump through them."
Seamus frowned slightly but nodded in agreement.
"I think we should focus on places of importance to Voldemort and work from there," Harry said. "Decoding the map matters more than figuring out who exactly the Huldra are or what their motivation is. The centaurs seem to trust her slightly so she's probably true to her word; that map has something to do with the dark tosser and might be the key to taking him down forever."
"Agreed," Ron nodded.
"Hey," Susan said to Luna thoughtfully. "Maybe think about any landmarks with historical significance, muggle or otherwise, that fall on the lines you drew? If the Dark Lord were to hide something, maybe he'd hide it somewhere grandiose."
"Not a bad idea," Lilian Moon said thoughtfully. "I'll work on that angle, Luna."
"With two moons on the project, our way should be lit even quicker," the blonde whose namesake was also the moon said in her airy tone. The DA recognized that as Luna's retreat from serious conversation.
"Lucas," Ron asked as he looked towards the established frenchman. "Have we got any more information on Albania?"
"We have a development," he granted with an inclination of his head. "Brock," he nodded towards a tanned mercenary with a collection of brutal burn scars. "Has received an invitation to the meeting."
Everyone leaned in closer as that sentence piqued their interest. Amelia Bones especially was paying close attention; she'd been looking for any in into that event since she'd first heard of it.
"From Mercer?" she asked.
"Non," he shook his head. "Brock could explain better than I."
The mercenary cleared his throat gruffly before looking around for a moment. When he spoke, it was with a rough Australian accent.
"Fellow I used to work with by the name of Sutler runs in the same circles as Mercer. When he sent the word out about Albania, he asked a few people to spread the word to trustworthy likeminded individuals. Sutler was one of 'em and he asked me."
"Sutler doesn't know Brock is connected to me," Masson said. "And neither does Mercer."
"When is the meeting?"
"On the evening of the Winter Solstice."
"Which falls on the day Hogwarts releases for Christmas break," Hermione said after some quick math. "That's soon."
"What are you wanting to do with that information?" Harry asked as he looked between Brock and Masson. "That's going to be a very dangerous place to be."
"Aye." Brock agreed. "But the intel will be good."
"The information on their numbers would be very useful, let alone specific names or faces," Masson pointed out.
"Being able to familiarize the aurors with the faces of potential terrorist threats early would be invaluable as well," Amelia said intently.
"I don't like you going alone," Harry frowned.
"Sutler encouraged me to bring my partner."
"Who would that be?" he asked.
Brock shrugged. "There is not a specific partner. He just knows I rarely work alone."
"Who from your group could go with him?" Ron asked. "Aren't most of you on Mercer's radar?"
"Pretty much everyone else," Brock confirmed with a frown. "That's the problem."
"None of the students are going to be able to go," Masson picked back up.
"Certainly not," Amelia said firmly, glaring at them for a moment as if waiting for them to protest.
"That goes without saying," Harry agreed. "We still have some non-student options though. None of the graduated Weasleys though, too recognizable and a glamor on anyone would get you busted immediately."
"I would go," Viktor Krum said in his heavily accented voice. "But I am too recognizable, da?"
"Da," Craven answered him. "You may have stopped playing Quidditch but you are still famous."
"I could do it," Tonks volunteered. "I mean, they can't detect a metamorphmagus, can they?"
"There are ways to but none I would think they'd use for a meeting on this scale," Masson mused. "It could work…"
"Boss?" Tonk asked as she looked towards Madam Bones.
The austere woman held her gaze for a moment before nodding shortly. "This is too valuable of a chance to pass up. Your alias would need to be airtight though."
"If she is French, my papa could pull some strings on paperworks," Fleur volunteered.
"No," Ron shot down immediately. "She can't be French; Mercer is French and probably keeps close tabs on any talent coming out of there."
"Something slavic," Brock said. "That's the region Sutler thinks I'm in anyhow."
"The records are much spottier there, easier to forage," Amelia agreed. "How is your Russian, auror?"
"Passably conversational," she answered bluntly; it was only that good because there'd been this guy once and he'd made Russian sound incredibly sexy- er, well, that didn't matter much. "My accent isn't bad though."
"Russian woman are few of words anyways, at least your kind," Craven waved a hand. "I will introduce you to my babushka, she will tell you everything you need to know."
"Maybe she can help me pick a Russian looking face," Tonks mused.
"A scary one," Ron said helpfully.
"While you guys focus on character development," Harry interrupted, looking between the normally stoic Russian man and the auror with a strange look. "We can focus on the logistics. How long is it going to take to push the alias through?"
"A week at minimum," Masson answered while Amelia nodded in agreement.
"Well we've got near enough exactly a week so we'll be cutting it close. Can you two get that done?" Harry asked while looking between Masson and the elder Bones whom nodded in the positive. "Good. Then this meeting is dismissed; I've got to get to bed as does anyone on the Gryffindor or Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Match in the morning."
There were various sounds of agreement and lots of chattering as the meeting broke up.
Harry said his goodbyes quickly and made his way to bed, exhaustion cloaking his body like it did most days. It was time to get some rest.
…
"Harry."
"Uhh uhh," he groaned at whoever was trying to wake him.
"Mate, you gotta wake up."
"Grrr."
Ron lobbed a pillow at the lump on the bed which had his long time friend jerking up with a groan.
"Bloody hell, what?"
"Come on, it's time for the match."
Harry actually woke up when he registered that; Quidditch.
"Damn it all," he groaned as he fell back. He didn't stay laying down much longer though, knowing he'd just end up trying to close his eyes and sleep more. Rolling out of bed he got to his feet and faced his friend. "Is it bad that I'd rather just go back to sleep?"
"You can sleep after the match."
"Yeah right," Harry snorted. "Not with the amount of homework I have due tomorrow."
Ron tossed him his robes and even began pulling out his socks and shoes.
"I can get dressed, you know."
"Yes but we're running late and you're slow."
"I am not slow."
"Like a turtle, mate," Ron teased as he tossed Harry his socks. "Meet me downstairs; don't forget your broom."
Harry took a few more minutes to get ready after his friend left the dorm but eventually joined Hermione and Ron downstairs as well as Ginny. She was wearing her Quidditch uniform and had her chaser's gloves hanging out of her pocket.
They trooped down to breakfast together whilst chattering idly, Harry waking up and joining in the conversation with a measure of good cheer that continued through breakfast.
Eventually, though, it was time for the match and most of the school trekked down to the pitch.
"All security squads in position," all of the DA (who were wearing their comms pretty much 24/7 now) heard Blaise say just before the match started.
After that, Harry wasn't focusing much on the comm chatter pertaining to the security on the ground.
He was throwing himself into the well rehearsed search patterns with his eyes sharply roving over the pitch attempting to catch a glint of gold.
"And Robbins scores for Gryffindor within the first three minutes," Dean Thomas' announced. "Look at the three of them go in the Hawkshead formation, bullying their way past the Ravenclaw's defense!"
There was a deafening cheer from the Gryffindor side of the pitch before the game developed into a frenzy of flying maneuvers and excited announcing.
"Hey Cho," Harry shouted as he flew in a tight corkscrew around her just to show off. "How's your morning?"
"Get your own airspace, Harry," the Ravenclaw seeker and long time DA member huffed at him before he flew away and started doubling back.
"Oh fine," he huffed. "Be that way."
She rolled her eyes and grumbled at his showmanship before swerving towards him.
"Looks like Chang is warning Potter off," Dean announced to the crowd. "Is the Gryffindor seeker taunting her?"
Harry swerved back then dropped under her before rolling to the right quickly to avoid the bludger sent at him by one of the Ravenclaw beaters.
"I think the Ravenclaw beaters have a message for Harry Potter — stay away from our seeker, mate!"
There were a few titters from the crowd at the improvised banter Dean had created before their attention turned back onto the match. The chasers were remarkably well matched but the Gryffindors still maintained a twenty point lead.
"It looks like fifth year keeper Grant Page has figured out the Gryffindor's girls scoring tactics; that's the third block he's executed in a row."
Harry took a moment to check the score when his eyes caught a glint of gold hovering above it in the glare of the sun. As if sensing his awareness of it, it darted to the right behind the scoreboard and Gryffindor hoops.
Before he even registered what he was doing, he was burning hot across the pitch towards it.
He was unwilling to let the elusive ball out of his sight and blew by Cho Chang in his pursuit. She immediately turned tail and began following him with no hesitation. It didn't take long for her keen eyes to pick out the golden snitch as well.
"Has Potter seen the snitch? He has! And he's taking the lead, blowing by Chang," Dean narrated, voice echoing through the stadium "Oo! But like a typical Ravenclaw, she's got her wits about her! She's already off and on Potter's tail."
The chase was on.
"Look at them go, both seekers in a race for the snitch," Dean cheered. "No sneaky grabs today, folks. Unless the snitch pulls a disappearing act, it's a seekers race to the finish."
They were darting around each other, neither bumping the other but both trying to edge forward or impair the other's ability to make the sharp turns the snitch was forcing them to make.
"Careful, players, it doesn't look like Chang or Potter care much who fly through right now, friend or foe," Dean announced. "I might be wrong but it looks like they just interrupted the beginnings of a Parkin's Pincer maneuver from the Gryffindor chasers. I would've liked to see if Page could've kept that out of the hoops!"
Dean was right — the seekers didn't care what plays they'd interrupted for either team.
They were head to head, neck to neck, racing for the little golden ball.
The competitive duo were jostling for the perfect position to snag the snitch out of the air but neither could find it. The winged ball was doing everything it could to confuse them, changing direction swiftly and erratically.
As if sensing the end was near, it began rising as fast as it's tiny wings would take it with the seekers hot on its trail.
With a tiny corkscrew, it alluded Cho's outstretched fingers and then dove down the space between them and back towards the pitch.
Neither Cho nor Harry spared a moment of thought.
Their brooms were pointed steeply towards the ground as they pushed the two identical (DA issue) racing brooms towards the pitch and the glimmer of gold flying towards it.
Their brooms began to shudder lightly in their hands but neither of them stopped. Cho pulled up lightly to compensate but Harry didn't. That slight compensation she made pushed him ahead in their race and as they zoomed past the spectators bleachers, the Ravenclaw seeker began pulling her broom to a hard stop.
Harry waited that extra second, pushing his broom to the max, before he pulled up hard on the handle and came out of his dive with a single wild, momentum-fueled roll. When he righted himself, he snagged the snitch out of the air where it too had bottomed out of its dive.
"And Potter has got the snitch!"
The shouts of the crowd exploded in his ears as the intensity of his race for the snitch faded and players began landing all around him. Cho was the first to reach him and stuck out her hand to shake his own (the one that wasn't holding the snitch).
"Well played," she commented only somewhat grudgingly before rolling her eyes. "I swear, it's not even fair letting you play."
"Aw, come on," he said with good humor as he chuckled. "You almost had me that time. Thought you had won before the snitch started the dive."
"I thought I had too," she cursed with a head shake and a laugh. "Bloody hell, I swear I felt its wings."
Their talk was cut short but the swarming of the Gryffindor Quidditch team who none too gently lifted Harry onto their shoulders. Cho just laughed as he protested and was carried away towards the edges of the pitch. At first, Harry thought they were taking him towards the exit.
"Aw, ruddy hell," Harry cursed as he tried to get loose. "Let me down!"
"Not gonna happen," Ritchie, one of the beaters, laughed at him. "You're getting paraded around the pitch at least once!"
"Ginny!" Harry pleaded. "Ron, mate."
Ron and Ginny looked at each other for a second before placing their hands under Harry's shoulder's and pushing him up more.
"Hoist him higher!" Ginny shouted. "Wave him in the wind, boys!"
"Traitors!"
…
The excitement after the match didn't die down until lunch and it wasn't until after then that he was able to get away from Hogwarts (publicly feigning the need for a nap until dinner) and back to Firewall.
His first stop was into the infirmary where he found Lavender, still prone and unconscious, with her mother at her side.
"How is she, Mrs. Brown?"
"It's Kathleen, Harry," the tired looked mother said sternly. "Don't start with that now because you're feeling guilty."
"How'd you know?"
"It was all over your face the first night and it still is now," Lavender's mom told him. "Even though you're not the one who needs to feel guilty — it's those Death Eater scum that do," she said passionately.
The normally kind woman took a deep breath and stroked Lavender's hair off of her forehead.
"Lanuaria says she's doing well and can wake up tonight; she's already stopped giving her the coma inducement potion."
"So she could wake up any minute?"
"It'll probably be a couple of hours."
"Okay," Harry said after giving his long time friend and housemate another once over. "I'll be in my study working until then. Send for me as soon as she stirs?"
"I think your elf will do that."
"Huh?"
"Winky, was it?"
"She's been here?"
"She said she was checking on Lavender for the Master," Kathleen answered. "She's here every two hours. Woke up last night and found her wiping her brow with a cool rag — Winky is quite the darling."
"I didn't tell her to do that, though I am sure she'll come and get me knowing that," Harry said with a soft smile.
"Huh," Kathleen said. "Wonder why she's been so vigilant then."
"I think they bonded over dress designs when Lav worked on the robes for the elves that match ours."
"Sounds like my girl."
"Where's Mr. Frederick?" Harry asked as he noted the absence of Lavender's father.
"He had to stop in at the firm for a few hours," she answered, referring to the employment firm they ran. "He'll be back soon."
"Ah," Harry said as he stood. "Alright. Well, I'll be seeing you soon."
She nodded then turned back to her daughter, holding the girl's limp hand. Harry watched for another long moment before he turned and began making his way towards his study. As he did, he wondered if his mother would have sat by his bedside as vigilantly as Kathleen had sat by her daughter.
He pushed those thoughts away once he reached his study and turned them towards his coursework. He had a bit more catching up to do.
…
It was nearly three hours later that Winky popped into his study and announced that Missus Lavender would finally be waking up.
He thanked her then opened his DA journal, jotting in a quick note so everyone knew she was waking up. They knew not to flock to the infirmary but her dorm mates (and Tonks, her body double), would be showing up.
He finished writing a note to Remus and Sirius.
They hadn't been heard from aside from a two word "we're okay" since they'd veered from the muggle walking path and entered the warded, hard to access Snowdon Pack preserve. They were taking talks slowly as they still hadn't been allowed to speak with the pack elders yet and present their offer or case. Remus thought the waiting game was a test of their reserve and of their patience as well as a silent snub.
Once finished, Harry closed and pocketed his journal then left his study.
When he made his way to the infirmary, everyone was already there. Tonks had returned to one of her normal faces but was still sporting Lavender's body and robes. Lanuaria had the area around Lavender cleared of everyone except Kathleen and Frederick.
"One more invigoration draught should do it," Lanuaria muttered before waving her wand at a dark teal potion and presumably spelling it into Lavender's stomach.
It was only a few more moments before the girl was waking up with a soft groan. No one spoke until she opened her eyes and looked around in confusion.
"Mom? Dad?" she asked in a dry voice with a tongue that felt like cotton and lead. Her gaze fell on the white-haired healer next. "Healer Silver?"
She tried to correct her pronunciation of Lanuaria's name but the healer simply pressed a potion to her lips which she swallowed without complaint.
"How are you feeling Ms. Brown?"
"Like I've been drained dry," she answered as she tried and failed to push herself up onto the pillows. "What happened?"
"You got hit by a suffocating sapping curse," the healer answered. "On Friday night at the Bulstrode estate."
"I remember the fight," she said, brow furrowing. "I was trying to get a flare curse off through one of the second floor windows…"
"Do you remember what happened after?" Harry asked her in a calm voice.
"I think…there was a flash?" she tried to remember. "I think it was a shield falling but it was so bright. I don't remember anything after that."
"The shield discharge must have blinded you," Marie, her dorm mate, said aloud. "That's why you didn't see the spell coming from the front lawn."
"Are Millicent's parents okay?" Lavender asked in concern as she remembered their exact objective. "Her little sister?"
"Everything went as planned and they're here, safe," Harry answered.
"Oh thank Merlin," the Gryffindor girl murmured as she relaxed fully back into her pillows.
Her mom squeezed her hand tightly, Lavender looking up to meet her eyes. "Oh, mom…are you okay?"
Her mom huffed out a shaky breath before her husband steadied her with an arm around her shoulders. "You're the one sitting in a hospital bed and you're asking if everyone else is okay."
"I think I've gotten more rest this weekend than you have," Lavender joked lightly, easing the tension.
Harry sat back for awhile and watched as Lanuaria ran more tests and as friends and family interacted with the girl they were glad to see whole and in one piece.
At some point, Lavender reached up and felt her normally silky locks.
"Oh my-" she broke off in horror. "My hair! Where's my frizz-away spray?"
Everyone laughed at that. Oh yeah — Lavender was back.
…
Eventually, it was just Tonks, Harry, and Lavender's parents left around the girl's bedside.
"You had me worried, princess," Frederick said before he leaned over and hugged his daughter as much as he could.
She blushed, looking at the auror in the room and at her friend.
"Dad," she whined quietly.
"Right, right," he backed away with a gruff chuckle.
"How's everything, Harry?"
"Better now that you're up," he said honestly. "Look, Lav-"
"If you apologize for something you didn't do, I may just have to break Lanuaria's no magic rule."
"I don't think so, Ms. Brown," said healer scolded as she rounded the corner. "Though I may just curse him for you."
"That would suffice. You know any plucking charms?"
"Oi," Harry protested. "I wasn't going to apologize for something I didn't do," he lied. "I was just going to say that I was sorry you got hurt at all."
"Uh huh," she said while looking at him distrustfully. "I know you, Harry. Don't you dare beat yourself up over this. I got hurt because I didn't see the spell coming and because Death Eaters are arse holes. Not because of you or anything you've done. You didn't ask me or anyone else to fight for you so you're not to blame when we get hurt. More importantly, we're not fighting for you — we're fighting for our world that we all share. How long is it going to take you to get through your head?"
"Not too much longer," he promised with a head scratch. "I think I've heard that speech thrice over now."
"Well hopefully the third time's the charm."
"Yeah," he agreed. "I'm glad you're well though."
"Thanks," she accepted. "So, what's up Tonks?"
In response, Tonks shifted back into looking exactly like Lavender.
"At least my hair lives on vigorously through you," the Gryffindor said as she took in Tonk's copy of her image. "I'm guessing you're covering for me in school?"
"Right in one," she agreed in a perfect imitation of Lavender's voice.
"That's creepy," Lavender said with wide eyes.
"Very," her parents agreed.
"What, you never wanted twins?" Lavender asked them with a wink.
"Goodness gracious, no," her mother answered immediately. "Don't know what I would've done with two of you."
"I wouldn't have survived," her father agreed. "Would have been a nightmare."
"Oi, you two," the girl poked at them. "Anyways. Thanks for covering for me, Tonks."
"You know it," the auror waved off. "Besides, it's fun staying in the Gryffindor dorms. I've only done that once."
"Oh?" Harry asked with interested.
Tonks, with Lavender's face, blushed scarlet (actually scarlet, not just a saying) then looked away. "Anyways, it's no trouble."
"If I can do anything to help, let me know," the recovering girl said.
"Actually, I wanted to go over a few things with you. Maybe go over a couple memories just so I don't get any suspicion out of the more observant professionals."
"Sure — Occlumency or pensieve?"
"Occlumency if Lanuaria approves," Tonk answered. "It'll make it easier for me to copy you if I live through the memories, so to say, rather than view them in a bowl."
"She should be fine for some light mental magics," the healer in question confirmed after a few more diagnostic charms. "As long as you stop when you're tired."
"Then I'd never start," Lavender quipped.
Kathleen and her father gave her a concerned look but she pushed past it. "We best get started now, Tonks, cause I'll probably be sleeping soon."
"You got it."
"Need anything else Harry?" Lavender asked.
Harry gave her one more once over, assuring himself she was okay, before he shook his head decisively. "No, you just focusing on getting better. Give Winky a call if you need anything, she's been tending to you quite a bit according to your mum."
"Really?" Lavender asked in the standard 'aww how cute' voice.
"Let me tell you," her mom began animatedly, eager converse with her daughter.
Harry slipped out of the hospital as they began chatting for a moment and Tonks pulled out a chair. Lavender was in good hands.
For now, he had a desk full of things that needed his attention waiting for him in his study.
…
Tuesday evening found Harry and most of the Hogwarts DA members gathered in various places around the Cathedral.
Flora and Hestia Carrow had the floor at the moment. Flora, who's ash brown hair was neatly parted and pinned to the side, was currently speaking. Her twin, who's hair was braided over her shoulder, was sitting quietly by her side.
"We rounded the corner as the door appeared; it just sort of grew out of the wall right across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy," Flora recounted last night's bout of tailing Malfoy.
"The troll ballet guy?" Oliver Rivers asked.
"Yes," Hestia answered from her place by her sisters elbow.
"How quickly did the door appear and how large was it?" Morag asked curiously.
"It appeared in five to eight seconds and was roughly a quarter smaller than the doors to the Great Hall — sizable."
"Quite," the Ravenclaw muttered. "That's some serious magic even for Hogwarts. Sometimes you can hear the castle rearranging itself, you know? It takes a little bit of time, a minute at minimum, from what I've noticed."
"You're right," Stephen Cornfoot agreed with her. "That's some serious power especially if it's creating secret passageways for him too. We could use something like that at our disposal.
"Wait…" Hermione muttered, thinking quickly. No one heard her quiet statement so conversation continued. She didn't hear it anyways, reviewing pages of books she'd read months and years ago in her mind (with no small amount of help from Occlumency) as she searched out something that was niggling at her memory.
"I've got it!" she shouted triumphantly a moment later.
Ron stopped talking mid sentence and looked at her with some surprise at her sudden outburst.
"Oh, sorry, Ron."
"It's alright, Mione," he assured her. "What brilliant thing have you figured out now?"
"Remember that book, Harry, the one in the Gryffindor vault?"
"Weren't there a few books in there?"
"The one the goblins mentioned specifically."
"Gryffindor's personal codex?" he clarified, receiving a nod. "What about it?"
"In it, it talked about the Heart of Hogwarts, the truest point of the seven ley lines that interest the grounds. It talks about that being the spirit of Hogwarts, the strength of Hogwarts. I assumed it meant the great ward stone in the lower dungeons, the ones blocked off from most of the school. What if it meant this room?"
"You think the Come and Go room is the Heart of Hogwarts?" Harry asked, remembering vaguely the passage she spoke of.
"I think so, it would make sense," she theorized rapidly. "Gryffindor said they retreated there when the castle fell under siege by Moragon's armies. It had enough space to house the occupants of the castle and the village while also allowing the founders to control the defenses and wards of the castle. It was a sort of castle command center; they described it as a physical, tangible place."
"Then why would it be a loo? Or a cleaning cupboard?" Ron asked, blinking.
"Because it's meant to serve any purpose the castle's occupants might need," Hermione answered.
"But why would it be accessible to people like Draco Malfoy?" Zara Valli tacked on.
"Because Hogwarts opens her Heart to all her students," Harry answered as he recalled more of the text from Gryffindor's codex. "It's in the founding charter of the school, that is."
"I doubt it would open up the full functionality of the room to anyone other than an heir," Hermione theorized again.
"We need to get access to that room," Harry decided. "And we need to deny access to Draco Malfoy."
"No," Daphne shot down immediately. "We need to know what he's doing first. He's been doing it all year, sacrificing his precious beauty sleep, so it must be important. It must be for the Dark Lord."
"I agree," Ron nodded. "We need to know the ferret is up to. Once we do, then we can try and lock him out."
"Getting access to the room isn't a bad idea though," Blaise commented from his place on Daphne's right. "We can scope it out when he's not there."
"Agreed," everyone seconded.
"We'll make our first attempt tomorrow night. Malfoy hasn't made a trip two nights in row yet so we have a window," Blaise decided. "Flora, Hestia, which one of you is on guard tonight?"
"I am," Hestia answered.
"I can cover the common room while you two explore the area," her twin spoke up.
"You were on duty last night," Harry noted. "You sure you're okay two nights in a row?"
"I will be fine," the slim Slytherin assured him. "Dean has agreed to take tomorrows watch so both I and my sister will be able to recuperate lost sleep."
Harry nodded shortly at that, knowing better than to argue with either of the efficient if eery Carrow twins.
…
"How did it go last night?" Harry wrote in his DA journal to Blaise Zabini.
The Slytherin and Hestia had gone to explore the seventh floor corridor the night before and Harry had been waiting to hear about the outcome.
"No success," the answer came in his elegant scrawl. "Magical detection scans don't even yield evidence of a secret room."
"If the nature of the room is what we think, then maybe it won't show up on detection scans until there's someone inside," Hermione's tidy writing appeared beneath their own.
Harry spared a glance at his friend who was sitting on the other side of Ron in History of Magic. The redhead was napping between them while they pursued either independent study (Hermione) or side projects (Harry). Blaise was somewhere else in the school attending a different class.
"Could be," Harry agreed. "The room may not exist unless its needed."
"I'll talk to the twins," Blaise said in reference to the Carrow girls. "See if they can get a detection charm off while Draco is locked inside."
"As long as they're careful," Harry wrote.
"Malfoy may ward the corridor," Hermione agreed. "Or have a lookout of his own."
"Indeed," Blaise agreed.
The jotted notes between the DA members stopped after that as Blaise presumably got involved in his own class. Harry went back to combing through the DA journal to bring himself up to speed on all of their side projects while Hermione went back to listening to Binns with one ear while taking notes from the textbook.
Ron snored violently, almost waking Neville in the process, and classes carried on at Hogwarts.
…
"…plus an extra foot on which of Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfigurations limits the uses of this spell," McGonagall finished assigning.
Harry sat as patiently as he could in the last class of the day, checking his watch surreptitiously. Apolline Delacour was due to arrive at Firewall very soon and he most certainly would not be being late.
"…and that will be due on Friday before you leave for Christmas break," she said as she finished her lecture and sat back down behind her desk in preparation for the last period of the day. "Class dismissed."
Harry rose quickly, bag already packed, and began internally readying himself for the coming meeting. Thankfully, he had a free period where most people had one more class.
"Mr. Potter," the voice of his stern professor stopped him as he stepped into the aisle to go towards the door.
The hurried teen froze in his tracks and gave a nearly imperceptible sigh.
Hermione and Ron, who knew why he was rushing, gave him a slightly worried look.
He gave them a quick 'move forward' hand sign and turned back to his professor. He knew the two would take care of everything and explain his tardiness to Apolline if worse came to worst.
"Yes, Professor?"
"You have a free period next, don't you?"
"Yes, ma'am," he answered politely while forcing any expression of displeasure away.
He had nothing against McGonagall (except the mindless follower of Dumbledore part) but he was in a rush. He wouldn't be rude and let her notice his impatience though.
"Good, come sit," she said. "I also have a free period this block."
Damn it.
"Is everything alright, Professor?" he asked as he pulled up a chair from a desk in the front row.
"Of course, Potter," she agreed with a wry smile.
"Sorry," he said wryly with a shake of his head. "We just don't really talk unless something is wrong."
"While that may have been the case in the past, I am also your Head of House," she began as she reached into her desk and pulled out a sheaf of parchment and some pamphlets. "As such, I have a few duties. One of those is making sure you are on your ideal career path and taking all of the necessary classes."
"Didn't you do this last year?" Harry asked in curiosity.
"Yes but you missed your career appointment as you were in the hospital wing."
"Oh, yeah," he remembered. "I flew into a bludger."
"Indeed," she agreed. "Because of that your meeting got rescheduled. So, we shall have the meeting now."
"Uhm, okay," he agreed. "Why now?"
"Because I have just finished the fifth year's meetings and found your incomplete forms," she answered before raising a brow at his questioning. "Is that a problem?"
"Not at all, professor," he said as he looked at the array of pamphlets she was leafing through.
She nodded then continued pursuing the pamphlets, pulling out one here or there between looking at Harry appraisingly. He thought she was pulling out things she thought would be a good match for him.
"Have you had any thoughts about what career path you might want to follow after leaving Hogwarts?" she asked after she had prepared her things.
"No, ma'am, not really."
"Not really?" she raised another brow. "You've picked OWL and NEWT classes and you still don't know what you want to do?"
"I really hadn't planned on getting a traditional job, Professor."
"What?" she blinked in shock.
"I hadn't planned on getting a traditional job," he restated. "As it is, my life plan roughly stands at: survive Hogwarts, kill Voldemort, then live happily ever after."
"Happily ever…" she repeated to herself before mumbling a few things that were too Scottish and annoyed for him to understand. She shook herself before looking back up at him. "Your role in this war not withstanding, planning to live happily ever after is not planning for your future."
"Maybe not," he shrugged. "But if he kills me, at least I won't have wasted what little time I have on a ten year plan."
She looked taken aback by his blunt honesty for a long moment. Then, she pressed her lips together until they were almost too thin to be seen.
"Foresight is important," she told him seriously. "When you survive this war, what will happen when you can't access any of the career paths you're interested in because you didn't take the time now to plan for the future? A comprehensive education that complements that paths you are most interested in is very important, Mr. Potter."
She paused for a moment. Harry assumed that it was for dramatic effect to make her rhetorical question really sink in.
"On that note, I noticed you aren't taking potions this year. Potion's is one of Hogwarts core classes; while it may not be a requirement for you to take it, it is a requirement for most major career paths. Aurors, healers, herbologists, and many other jobs require a potions NEWT. Why did you drop the class?"
"Professor, you and I both know that Severus Snape is incapable of teaching me potions. He's arguably incapable of teaching to anyone who isn't a Slytherin."
"But you got an O on your potions OWL — he can't bar you from his NEWT class."
"The O that I received should be a credit to Hermione's lesson plans and my dedication to self study," he said seriously. "I have no interest in being anywhere near that man, Professor, and no letter grade is going to convince me to sit and suffer his abuses."
McGonagall almost opened her mouth to defend Snape (like Dumbledore would have) but she closed it after a moment, tilted her head, then nodded slightly. He wasn't wrong.
"Regardless of Severus' teaching ability," she continued with pursed lips. "Hogwarts still offers a self study course in potions. If you began now and study over the break, you could be caught up and back on track as far as the sixth year syllabus goes."
"No, thank you, Professor," he said.
He definitely did not need more coursework; he was already nearly at NEWT level in potions because of the DA study groups and his own independent study. He could easily self-study for the NEWT's and take them in the Ministry at his own leisure if it ever became important.
He hadn't let Snape make him hate the subject, after all. The Dursley's had never made him hate cooking despite forcing him to make most of their meals. He still enjoyed cooking and potions was similar to it just more challenging and rewarding.
"Do you realize how many career paths you'll be cutting off or severely limiting?" McGonagall asked. "As it is, your only elective is Care of Magical Creatures."
"Professor, I've already told you that I don't plan to take up a normal job," he repeated firmly, unwilling to be pushed around in this regard. He was sure that McGonagall was used to hearing half-assed plans from students all the time and had to convince them to put more stock in their futures but he wasn't her standard case.
"What will you do with your life?" she asked. "How will you sustain yourself?"
"Professor McGonagall, I am Lord Potter," he said while blinking at her in genuine shock. He hadn't thought she was worried about him supporting himself. "Sustaining myself will never be an issue."
"So you'll live off your family's money?" she asked with an arched brow an unimpressed look. "Even your father, as lackadaisical as he was, got a job as an auror after he graduated."
Alright. That had irritated him.
"Live off my- Live off of my family's money?" he asked after a false start with clearly ruffled feathers. His eye twitched once almost imperceptibly. McGonagall could tell she'd offended the Gryffindor but Harry could similarly tell that she didn't regret it as she still thought she was right. "Did you know that my father was never Lord Potter, Professor McGonagall?"
"I'm sorry?"
"My father never wore this ring," he said as he placed his hand on her desk where the heavy gold and ruby ring rested and glinted in the light. "The last Potter to wear it was my grandfather; my father chose to postpone assuming the Lordship, I assume, to focus on the war effort and become an auror, as you just said. He died before he could."
"I did not know that," she admitted. "But that does not change-"
Harry interrupted, for once having little regard for politeness after she'd insulted him and brought up his family. She may have been doing it with the best intentions but he still wouldn't be content until he'd made his point.
"If you'll excuse me," he cut her off. "But I wasn't finished speaking, ma'am."
Her mouth closed with a barely audible snap as she looked at him with some surprise. In all her years, she'd never been asked to stop speaking by a student in such a way. Harry took advantage of her moment of shock to reach into his backpack and pull out a very large book that was both wider, longer, and thicker than most standard texts.
He set it out on her desk with a loud thump that managed to shake the sturdy table. That shook her from her momentary stupor and she focused in on the book with some interest and confusion.
"This is the Potter family ledger," he explained to her as her eyes landed on the emblazoned crest upon the cover. "It goes with me everywhere."
"I fail to see its relevance to this conversation."
"This book is my full time job, Professor," he explained as he pulled three very thick scrolls from his bag as well. "This is what I plan to do with my future and what I already do with most of my free time in the present."
He placed the scrolls off to the side of the book one by one as he listed what they were.
"This was November's summary report for my account's activities. This here is September's and this is October's. Every month, I compare the current report against the past couple months of activity to track my profit margin and any changes. I adjust at least thirty different interest rates for various contracts and businesses associated with my family so that they accommodate for market inflation."
McGonagall's eyebrows were beginning to climb into her hairline but Harry didn't stop.
"I consult a team of brokers and goblins on investments, figuring out which stock I need to sell and which stocks I need more of. I answer at least half a dozen letters during a good week on matters of finance and manage a host of other projects associated with my family from repairing individual properties to managing our farms and greenhouses."
While he did not open either the book or the scrolls, their size alone made it clear just how much work he put into this.
"My family's holdings have been left untouched for nearly two decades since my grandparent's death. My father did not reinvest or even set precedents with the goblins before his death to allow them to manage the family finances. He ignored them entirely excepting withdrawals and for two decades, our vaults have stagnated while our investment portfolios decayed. We lost more money because of that than my father would have made in a lifetime as an auror."
He met her eyes, making sure she understood, before he continued. His fingers were tracing the edges of the heavy book.
"And now, after all of the lords and ladies to have had a hand on this book, of all the sons who have been taught to use it by their fathers and their fathers before them, I am the last person alive who can even open it. Do you know what that feels like, Professor?"
The austere older woman said nothing, focused on her very serious student and captivated by the intensity he was putting off.
"It feels like I have a legacy resting on my shoulders that is hundreds of years old. It feels like the fate of the Potter name rests on me because if I die, it dies with me. It is my job to ensure that the wealth my family has worked to accumulate for more than a century is not wasted or misused. It is my job to ensure that everything my family has built does not die with me. It is my job, my full-time, life long career to be the Lord Potter, to be the protector of my family's legacy."
He swept the scrolls back into his bag and packed away the Potter ledger as well.
"Because my family is gone."
Her face cracked a little at that. Yes, all of the wonderful Potters she had known were gone.
"All that's left of them is the birthright that they have left me. So no, I will not pursue a traditional career. The amount of money I would add to my vaults by having a conventional job is a pittance compared to the amount of money I could add by fixing the state of my financial affairs and properly managing my assets."
"I see you have thought this out far more than I thought you had, Mr. P- Lord Potter," she corrected.
"You can call me Harry, Professor, or whatever you usually would," he said with a half smile at her. "But yes, I have. My family is my future, ma'am, not a ministry job or anything else."
"I understand," she said honestly.
"If I decided to pursue something specific, I'm sure I'll be able to learn whatever I need," he assured her. "I have my entire life to study magic in depth; I only have a few years to defeat Voldemort."
"A few years?" she asked in confusion.
She was surprised by the addition of the Dark Lord to their conversation. As an Order member, she could think of no reason Voldemort needed to be taken care of in that time frame.
"The sooner the better, obviously," he shrugged as he stood and shouldered his bag. "I'm afraid that taking any more time with that would do irreparable damage to our world. Voldemort is a madman who would see the world burn around his ears if someone doesn't stop him."
"I fear you are not wrong."
"I know I'm not," he said as he put the desk chair he'd drawn up in front of her desk back in place. "Plus, I want my twenties free from this bastard at minimum."
She shook her head once more, not bothering to scold him for his language. Bastard wasn't a strong enough word for that, that, that mhac na galla. Her internal monologue got progressively more Scottish after that because calling him a son of a bitch just wasn't sufficient.
She was pulled away from the burgeoning train of thought by her pupil.
"If that's all, professor?"
"It is," she agreed as she gestured to her door. "In a rush to be somewhere?"
"I have a date with a very pretty girl," he answered on the spot as he stepped through the door. "See ya later, Professor!"
His words brought on a wave of nostalgia for the older Professor.
He'd sounded so much like his father just there but, as she'd learned today, he was much more mature than that. It had honestly helped solidify her perspective of the young man quite a bit — she hadn't been sure what to think since the Umbridge debacle in September.
Perhaps she should talk to Albus about this conversation; knowing he was showing so much maturity might help ease some of the Headmaster's worries about the boy.
McGonagall went back to her office to think on the outcome of the meeting some more.
It wasn't often that a student surprised her so much. She'd have to keep an eye on Mr. Potter to see just how else he might surprise her.