In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 127: Burns
Harry had less than a moment to study Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas in the middle of the first floor courtyard, their eyes toward Harry. Enough time to hear the spin of Ron and Hermione; though not enough to notice that Neville rounded the corner to face the crowd in canary yellow.
"Five million galleons!" Parkinson shouted.
Harry felt Gia pushed into his backside by Ron and Hermione wedging her between the three.
"STUPEFY!"
Anthony Goldstein and Morag MacDougal marched in toward Ron. Pansy Parkinson and Lavender Brown joined in toward Hermione. Purple magic emanated from Harry's wand, the wall that bent backward, joined up with Ron's and Hermione's wands. Josh Brenner was struck by the rebounded red curse, flew backward.
"We want you dead!" Dean Thomas yelled, his metallic left middle finger flipped Harry off, while the right flicked and swished. "BLIMEY!" He dropped his wand, the blood that dropped from the slices to his skin.
Anthony Goldstein's legs locked up when that curse rebounded onto him.
"CRUCIO!" Parkinson snapped, and screamed, withered to the cobblestone tile.
Wayne Hopkins's curse rebounded, the crack of his arm bone audible as he dropped his wand. Avery Redwood, the second year, lost his balance as his Jelly Legs returned to him, and tripped. Oak wand that jumped into Harry's left hand, the summoning as he aimed, wand after wand clattered to his feet.
That the wands vanished as they landed was a less pressing mystery than Finnigan and Thomas, the spear–head to the wrath being unleashed in the curses flying from the wands Harry had yet to confiscate.
"GET OUT OF HERE!"
"LEAVE!"
"MURDERERS!"
Seamus Finnigan steadied himself.
"Can't you read—our final warning," Finnigan said, "You're unfit for Hogwarts."
"We've got a right to be here," Ron protested.
"Tell that to Ernie!" Hopkins snapped.
Dean Thomas took a step forward, toward Harry. A wave of the oak wand, Thomas fell backward onto the floor, bled out a bit more blood.
"I will take whatever measures are needed to protect my charges," Harry growled.
A swish to Harry's holly wand, the light purple film reinvigorated itself. Seamus Finnigan pressed against the barrier, screamed as he fast retracted his hand, the hairs on its back singed.
"Ow!" Finnigan exclaimed.
"I warned you," Harry growled, "It gets worse with each attempt."
Apparently late for the party, Aurors Seabrook Seagrave, and Buckland pushed in from the corners, the red curses that flew out of their wands, the three Aurors hit by their own rebounded stunning curses fell onto their faces, slammed into the stone near Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas.
"You!" Hopkins exclaimed, "You Dark Wiz—"
"You're part of that…eximo macula, right?" Harry said, "You're wearing the colors."
Harry caught the eyes, the ones that were dead serious in believing the tales, the perspective Seamus Finnigan had woven.
"Everybody is," Dean Thomas said.
"We're not," Ron replied.
"Doh!" Finnigan slapped his forehead.
"Doing Death Eater's dirty work," Harry said, "Remember that! You're absolutely right to be worried, there are people who've murdered your friends, my friends, but it's not us!"
Harry's wrath tempered by Gia on his back side. Hopkins glared.
"Tell that Finch–Fletchley or Patil," Hopkins said, "Found in your favorite community!"
Dean Thomas stepped back, stooped next to the unconscious Buckland.
"Even Muggles can dump bodies," Harry said, "Does the word framed mean anything to you dolts?"
Harry paused, the rant that continued.
"It's a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry—think there's no magic suitable for framing people?" Harry said, "Happens in the muggle world too."
Harry breathed, continued.
"I've had enemies for decades and you conveniently forget that?" Harry said, "You're aiding and abetting the true Dark Wizards, you're letting them continue their Dark Arts against all of us. We should be uniting not—"
"Stop your Dark—" Thomas yelled, Buckland's wand in his hand aimed, "Avada Kedavra!"
A green curse shot out of Buckland's wand in Thomas' hand, it went forward toward Harry, penetrated the ward that failed, as an animated silver shield leapt across the air, intercepted the evil curse. Silver fractured, shards flew, and Harry renewed his shield.
"First Dark Art I've witnessed today came from you," said Professor Dumbledore as he stepped into illusion five feet away from Harry, wand drawn.
"I was going to ask where my students were," said Professor Snape as he entered the courtyard.
"Excuse me," said Madam Pomfrey as she entered.
"Unless there's a higher urgency," the Headmaster said, "Tend to Mr. Thomas, after that, he'll be escorted off castle grounds to serve out a suspension through next Friday. And I need your Prefect badge, as it no longer suits you."
Dean Thomas glared as Madam Pomfrey gave him a once over.
"As to you Mr. Potter," Professor Dumbledore said, "Please head to your first class."
Harry understood, the flick of his wand, the invisibility on himself. His hands to his back, the grabbing of Ron's and Hermione's hands. Tightness, the disapparation, apparation into the third floor classroom.
…
Albus Dumbledore's hand trembled on the cane that returned to his grip, he let the magical support fade away, knew he'd be paying the price for that. His focus turned toward Neville.
"Unless you wish to join in on being punished," the Headmaster said to Neville, "I suggest you attend your first class."
Neville turned, and left. Kingsley Shacklebolt entered, marched toward Dean Thomas, as Madam Pomfrey moved onto the Ministry Aurors.
"All house points are forfeited," Albus Dumbledore said, "Expect detentions until further notice."
"Going to expel them for their Dark curses?" Dean Thomas asked, the forced stop of Kinsley Shacklebolt as he spat. "Aren't you?"
"Shield Charms are not Dark—" Albus Dumbledore said.
"Potter's are," Buckland sneered.
Kinsley Shacklebolt continued the removal of Dean Thomas.
"I witnessed the entire confrontation," Albus Dumbledore said, "From the moment Potter set foot in this courtyard, he remained defensive, not aggressive."
"They get off?" Finnigan demanded.
"You attacked them," Albus Dumbledore said, "They tried to go to a classroom as every student has the right to do, yet you attacked them, you tried to lynch and murder them."
"We'd be safer," Goldstein sneered.
"Would you?" Albus Dumbledore asked, "Are you sure of that? Are you sure you have the right people?"
"Of course we are," Hopkins said, "You saw what they did, they broke my arm."
Albus Dumbledore studied the older teenage wizard, Hopkins in his canary yellow outfit, the show of allegiance to that rotten organization.
"Dear me," Professor Dumbledore said, "Your own curse broke your arm. Their response was quite tempered if you ask me—for if they were Dark Wizards, you would have been dead before you had finished that assault onto them. With that attack, they would have been within their traditional rights to kill you for it."
Hopkins opened his mouth, to speak, though Albus Dumbledore's usual piercing gaze had its chilling effect.
"Everybody here played a role," Albus Dumbledore said, "Severus, please see to arranging detentions—maybe a deep cleaning of your classroom? Students are dismissed to your classes."
The headmaster turned, the slow tap toward Minerva McGonagall.
"I will pay them a visit at lunch," Albus Dumbledore said, "I need to rest."
A slow tap of the cane, Albus Dumbledore made his way back toward the Stone Gargoyle, the step onto it, and appreciated how well Harry had managed.
…
Several hours later, Albus stood on the platform on the stairs above his office, by the cusp to his private chambers. Below, the sky blue robes of the Minister, along with Amos Diggory.
"Finally!" the Minister snapped.
"Patience," Amos Diggory said, "Years have been…taxing."
"Maybe reconsider the appointment?" the Minister asked Amos Diggory.
A slow drift, the platform brought Albus down to the floor. A slow prod of the cane, he came to the desk with a Gringotts camera to a corner of it. He leaned for support as he stood next to it. Colin Creevey's arms that reached, balanced Albus until the old rear pressed down on the padded Headmaster's chair.
"Thank you Mr. Creevey," Albus said, "Please stay. Young ears to keep this conversation…on point."
"Aurors complained about being kept out of the action," the Minister said, "While you…"
"What did happen?" asked Amos Diggory.
"Mr. Potter was ambushed on the way to class," said Albus, "Luckily, Mr. Potter managed to stave off his attackers, and I suspended Mr. Thomas for attempted murder."
The Minister's lips that went idle.
"Serious accusation," said Amos Diggory.
"Luckily…" Albus motioned.
Colin turned, opened a manila envelope, pulled out color photographs with the Gringotts emblem in the corners, along with time and date stamped to the edges.
"Mr. Creevey thought to pack a camera," Albus said, "As you can see…"
"Magic," the Minister said.
"Shield charms…by their very nature, are defensive," Albus said, "Requires the aggressor to cast."
"Other students were injured," Amos Diggory said.
"By their own charms," Albus said, "As we teach shield charms in advanced years, that is a common enough of a skill."
Colin turned to the one of the green, from Dean Thomas, the words that echoed from Dean's lips.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" came Dean's voice from within the photograph.
"Unless you're endorsing killing curses within a school," Albus said to the Minister, "I suggest you let the punishments stand."
"What about Potter?" the Minister asked.
"I see no wrongs on his part," said Amos Diggory.
The Minister glared.
"Find the governors endorsing this…" Amos Diggory's finger to the picture of the killing curse. "And I'll have reason to remove them."
Albus smiled.
"If you overturn and do as you usually do," Amos Diggory continued, "It'll show your allegiances, and I'll have your authority to intervene—revoked."
"Future of Hogwarts—" the Minister started.
"Is the very future I'm considering," Amos Diggory said, "Besides, there is the upcoming Quidditch match."
Colin snorted.
"Good day," Amos Diggory stated, the glare at the Minister.
"Stop drinking?" the Minister asked.
"Yeah," Amos Diggory said.
"Bad choice," the Minister said.
A spin, the sky blue robes that fluttered as he left.
"Thank you," Albus said to Amos Diggory.
"Mr. Potter made an impression on me," Amos Diggory said, "One I need to get back to."
Albus nodded, watched the man head for the fireplace.
Neville walked with Michael, went down the stairs from the third floor.
"He's suspended and comes back…a teacher," Michael said.
"Did it to me too," Neville said, "Maybe that's the end–of–school, give us all a chance to see if teaching's right for us?"
"I've not been offered," Michael said.
"I helped out with Herbology," Neville said.
Dark eyes that glanced.
"You could," Michael said.
"What'd you be good at?" Neville asked.
"Arithmacy…maybe," Michael said, "Or Quidditch."
Down the steps.
"You're serious?" came the voice.
Around the corner on the first floor, Finnigan stood with Auror Tebworth, in her low cut red dress, the light brunette hair, and her blue eyes toward him.
"After what Potter did?" Finnigan continued, "The Minister…let him off?"
"Your friend uttered a killing curse?" Tebworth asked.
"Um…" Finnigan said, "Authorized, Potter needs to go, one way or another."
Finnigan spun in the corridor.
"Minister's grown soft," Finnigan said, "Think Potter's got them under the Imperius Curse?"
"I'm sure the Minister has his reasons," said Tebworth, her hands that slipped beneath the canary yellow shirt, the massaging to his shoulders. "Like he'd blab it all to silly old me."
"Tell him we need action," Finnigan said, "I can promise…"
Finnigan's eyes toward Neville and Michael.
"What'd you staring at?" Finnigan demanded.
Michael and Neville went around, down toward the Great Hall.
Harry rolled, moved off the bed as Professor Dumbledore entered the dormitory. Harry pivoted to Hermione, the hands to her shoulders while the Headmaster sat on a sofa.
"We both know the likelihood to enjoying that bed tonight," Harry said to her, "Not sure why the Minister would see reason."
"Partially my doing," Professor Dumbledore said, "I made it a condition to the rematch of Gryffindor vs Slytherin…you must be present."
Harry snorted.
"So…our impersonators value Quidditch?" Harry said.
"Who doesn't?" asked the Headmaster.
Harry glanced at Hermione, the brown eyes that said it all, she tolerated it because it was important to Ron and Harry, out of friendship.
"Or… it's the perfect time to try something," Harry said, as that occurred to him.
"A possibility," the Headmaster said as Harry turned and sat, "Alas, you'll be flying, on a broom, and so I dare say, you'll have options."
Harry summoned over the plate of grilled chicken breasts, and the jar of peanut butter. He conjured up a bowl, added some peanut butter. A summon of the pumpkin juice, and butter; he melted a bit of that butter into the bowl, and thinned it out with the pumpkin juice. A conjured knife, cut up the breasts, and skewered them with bamboo sticks.
"Tasty," the Headmaster said.
Harry handed a strip of the chicken breast, dipped another into the sauce and ate.
"I need to know how to take…Tom out," Harry said, "Suppose I'll try the killing curse, or mine, but… what if that doesn't work?"
"Not for light talk today?" Professor Dumbledore said, "Nice improvisation."
Harry stood, went for the fireplace, a lean in.
"Suppose killing him…even if I handed over his head on a silver platter," Harry said, "Not the end of this…nightmare, is it?"
"Last time," Professor Dumbledore said, "His power broke, as he was the leader and fell, the rest generally hid, or tried to deny their involvement."
"I suspect…others will try to cling to theirs," Harry said, "Though…we'll see, I hope."
"As do I," the Headmaster said, "Hopefully you sort this soon enough for me to witness that."
Harry turned around. Ron and Hermione whispered at the desk by the window, the giggling, while Gia stayed on the bed, reading.
"Would a killing curse work on him?" Harry asked.
"Only one way to truly find out," Professor Dumbledore said, "Most theory on killing curses is exactly that, theory, because we tend to dislike the practitioners."
"Aw," Harry said.
"While a typical magical shield cannot block a curse," Professor Dumbledore said, "That does not rule out the possibility that there is one that does. Yours did not."
Harry walked back to the sofa, across the table from the other.
"Got everything else," Harry said.
"Interesting effect," Professor Dumbledore said, "Had a short talk with Professor Tonks about it, you countered—"
"It countered," Harry said, "Hermione's creation after seeing Richard… a muggle thing, light reflects back to its source. They use it on road signs now, so even a candle can light it up."
Harry moved his feet, stood again.
"What could Voldemort do to counter a killing curse?" Harry asked, "Death?"
"Speculation—always," Professor Dumbledore said.
"You mentioned horcruxes," Harry said.
"Discredited—silly theory to anchor ones soul to the mortal realm," Professor Dumbledore said, "It can't really work, to split one's soul? Have you ever seen a Hogwarts ghost go two ways at once?"
"Other ideas?" Harry asked.
Harry stepped over to the window.
"Know my Mum found one way," Harry said.
"At great cost," Professor Dumbledore said.
Harry watched the squid in the lake.
"I've read a lot of books," Professor Dumbledore said, "Seen and heard a lot, however, I've still not read everything…you'd think after the first hundred years, the reading list would have grown shorter—if anything, it's multiplied and I'd need another millennium to get through it, and I suspect the list would only double again."
Harry snorted, as the old man stood. A slow cane tap.
"While there are titles I dare not read," Professor Dumbledore said, "I suspect Tom has—again, it is all theory, speculation, until put to the test."
"I need everything," Harry said, "Because he's not backing down, he's not content raising rabbits, but instead, he's after me. I can't go after him until I've got a good plan… anything short of that is… suicide."
Harry glanced, Ron's eyes that focused on his.
"Discussing Voldemort," Harry said, "And how it shouldn't become our executions!"
Harry turned his focus back to the Headmaster.
"Would Snape know more?" Harry said, "Ask him about killing Voldemort?"
"Less likely," said Professor Dumbledore, "He's in class now."
"Over in a short bit…I'll go ask him," Harry said, "Ron, fly out to practice in a short bit."
Harry went for the door. Wand drawn, the invisibility to himself as he entered the corridor. A stray thought, a curiosity, and Harry disapparated, apparated behind Neville.
"You may hand in your quizzes now," said Professor Flitwick as an owl swooped in.
A step around Neville with Michael.
"That's…" said Anthony Goldstein.
Professor Flitwick shuffled through the stack, the arms in the short sleeves of the shirt of canary yellow, the EM tattoo prominent on the arm, similar to Finnigan's.
"Lots and lots of detentions," Professor Flitwick said, handing out sheets of parchment, "Of course they wait to the end of the lessons…"
"Unjustly given," Finnigan said, "Still, make the offense fit the punishment."
"I shall pretend I did not hear that," Professor Flitwick said, "You'd do better only pretending to say it, out loud."
Tightness as Harry disapparated, apparated into the second floor girls' lavatory. He went to the cubicle in the far end, the left, and let the invisibility drop.
"Myrtle," Harry said, "Need a favor."
"Always a favor," Myrtle said, "What about a favor for me?"
"What's Seamus Finnigan up to?" Harry asked.
"You're cute and all," Myrtle said, her eyes that surveyed him. "Him…he'll be with her, always with her."
"If you can't spy," Harry said, "Harass them, anywhere, even on the toilet."
Myrtle grinned, vanished into the water. A flick of the wand, the invisibility that returned, and tightness. Potions classroom, with several fifth years at the sink washing their cauldrons.
"Got practice and…" Ginny grumbled.
"Doubt we're alone," Luna said.
Harry aimed his wand, the chalk that flew from the chalkboard, the eyes of Professor Snape that tracked it.
"Tell Hermione," Harry whispered as he handed it to Luna, "Dust…use dust in the corridors."
"I was…" Luna started.
Harry glanced around, only other student was Colin.
"Some students may think they own the castle," said Professor Snape.
"How do I kill Voldemort?" Harry asked.
Cauldron that dropped from Ginny's hands. Dark eyes toward where Harry stood.
"Killing curse?" Harry asked as he stepped toward the front.
"You would not be the first to have tried," Professor Snape said.
"Any succeed on casting it?" Harry asked, aware his invisibility dropped.
"Nobody has reached that point," Professor Snape said, the dark eyes that refuted Harry's interrogation.
"Would one work?" Harry asked, "Assuming I managed to cast it before being struck down?"
"A tall…IF," Professor Snape replied.
Harry noticed no wand was drawn, not in the hand, the hilt still buried into the sleeve of the dark robes.
"Harry," said Professor Dumbledore, the fast appearance.
"You're either too weak or never could—maybe too much pity to cast it?" Harry pointed to Snape. "Too much of a coward?"
"One does not casually kill the Dark Lord," Professor Snape said.
"Certainly determined to make my life miserable before he kills me," Harry said, "Yet he keeps striking—how many have perished according to The Daily Prophet?"
Harry watched the old man try to refuse to answer. Professor Snape merely glared.
"Hundreds? Thousands?" Harry said, "I can name some. Justin Finch–Fletchley, Natalie MacDonald, Owen Cauldwell, Remus Lupin, Percy Weasley, Padma Patil, Rita Skeeter, Rubeus Hagrid—who's next?"
Harry glanced toward Ginny and Colin, watching.
"These two can't be bothered to get their hands dirty—foist it onto me," Harry said, "Shouldn't they have some advice beyond make a wish?"
Harry turned to the Headmaster.
"Please," Harry said, "Lets focus tomorrow—think that's where I need to study…until, you know, the deed's done."
Harry sighed, walked toward Ginny and Colin.
"Practice," Harry suggested.
Ginny grinned.
Hermione worked the quill on the parchment in front of her, the first actual assignment in months, as the runes and numbers took shape.
"Miss. Granger, Miss. Prescott," Professor McGonagall said, "Your presence is required."
Hermione turned, stood.
"Please," said Kingsley Shacklebolt, from outside, "Time is of the essence."
Hermione puzzled on the faces, wished she'd seriously studied the Legilemency like Ron and Harry had. Gia walked with Hermione, out of the dormitory.
"Neville?" Luna bolted, followed.
"We're…" Hermione started.
"Precautions, all things considered," said Professor McGonagall.
Kingsley Shacklebolt moved ahead, followed quickly by Professor Tonks. Fred and George joined up with the procession.
"You're…?" Hermione started.
"Bodyguards," Fred offered.
On the first floor, the signs plastered to the doors of the Hospital Wings.
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Dark Wizards and accomplices shall perish!
Hermione understood, now worried to what'd happened. Hermione followed down the marble stairs, onto a flying carpet in the middle of the Entrance Hall.
"We can—" Hermione said, flanked by George.
"Do not stray," Professor McGonagall said.
Fred stood next to Gia as the carpet lifted the four of them.
"They've found…" George whispered, "Remember those mines you showed off?"
"Oh," Hermione said.
"We'd rather not find out if the new ones work," George whispered.
Hermione found it strange, the floating of the carpet down stairs she normally paced in the past, high over the grass. A familiar trail down to Hagrid's Hut.
"Harry was right about not lasting the day," Gia said.
"About set a clock to it," Hermione grumbled.
Hermione led the charge, up the steps through the open door. Within, the small crowd, with the bed enlarged to fit the three on it, Harry, Ron, and Euan, all docile, the eyes shuttered, with crispy well done skin, and all traces of hair gone. Notley already on the chair, leaned forward, watching the three.
"Not the end of them," Notley said.
A chime to the sand clock, and Notley's wand back out, he poked at the three. Bed a bit moved, Neville to the other side, Ash with his knees on the bed around Euan, both took more of the white ointment to their hands, began to lather up Ron and Euan, while Notley poured some onto Gia's and she worked Harry.
"They're…" Hermione started.
"Head to toe burns," Notley said, "They're much more grateful sleeping this one off."
"Your bag," said Romilda Vane as she entered.
"Ta," Notley reached in, pulled a vial out, and uncorked it.
A clang of metal, Dumbledore turned with the tea kettle, set it onto the table.
"I'm lousy at healing," Dumbledore said.
Hermione watched him.
"I've read a lot on it," Dumbledore said, "I don't have the knack for it, a talent I lack."
Hermione took a tea cup, sipped into it.
"I likely have an hour before the Minister calls on me," Dumbledore said, "And less before Poppy chastises me."
Tonks and Moody entered the crowded cabin, Michael moved out of the way.
"Finnigan had a confession," Tonks said, handed over a jar of yellow ointment, "This is the best remedy."
Notley took it, read the label, raised his eyebrows, and opened it. A slather of it onto Harry's left arm, the clearing that began.
"Oddly…specific," Dumbledore said.
"Finnigan boasted," Neville said.
"And…another surprise," said Moody as he dropped a small sleek black box to the table.
Hermione watched as Dumbledore pulled it open, the small puff of flame. Within, a laser at the top, two portals inline below. Red ruby for the middle, while the bottom contained a sapphire attached to a pearly white sphere. She raised her eyebrows at the lead rectangular slab underneath the laser to the side of the gems, wires from all three lead into the box.
"We disconnected the tank," Moody said.
"Fascinating," Dumbledore said, "Interaction of muggle and magic… this beam of light…"
"Would detect anything passing though it," Hermione said, remembering Richard's talks on it, "And…" she grabbed at the angled reflector nearby.
"Across the corridor from it," Moody said, "Kingsley is working to help remove the rest we've found."
"There's two beams," Dumbledore said, "Right?"
Moody nodded.
"It's searching for people under invisibility," Dumbledore said, "And the bottom…" He took out the pearly white sphere, the hairs within.
"We're untrackable…" Hermione started.
"Appearance can still be judged from hairs," Dumbledore said, "Clearly, searching for you and them." A point to the bed where Gia worked the yellow into Harry's skin. "An inferno was the plan…though it came to the Quidditch practice first."
"Harry…he…made sure we were out of it," Neville said.
"I…I pushed Finnigan into it," Michael said.
"You mean you tripped in the chaos," Dumbledore said, "Accidents happen."
Michael grinned.
"I think my grace period is about to end," Dumbledore said, "Rather than attract the Minister here, I shall retire to the castle, wish the lot a peaceful evening."
A slow tap of the cane, Dumbledore left the hut, stepped onto the carpet.
Dumbledore sighed as he entered his office, the mediwitch to his side.
"You know the cost for doing magic," Pomfrey said.
"I will not stand by and watch students perish," Dumbledore said, "The price is worth it."
"Sit until bedtime," Pomfrey said.
Dumbledore went for the Headmaster chair, sat.
"Intend nothing else," Dumbledore said, unsure if he'd keep the promise.
Amos Diggory and Arthur Weasley entered the office.
"I need to get back home," Amos Diggory said, "A bum recently moved in, he may wish to visit Mr. Potter."
"A bum?" Arthur Weasley asked, "Who?"
"Of course," Dumbledore said.
"As to Mr. Finnigan?" Amos Diggory asked.
"Minister gave him a two day suspension," Dumbledore said, "Even he can't tolerate attempted murder."
"Glad he's finally seeing some sense," Amos Diggory said, "Good evening."
Amos Diggory and Arthur Weasley made for the fireplace, the handful of Floo powder, the flash of green, and both men vanished as the colorful tropical bird swooped in. Albus Dumbledore opened the letter.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Albus,
Hope you're doing well. I had to visit Bangkok, and I've learned that they've passed a new treaty sponsored by your very own British Ministry for Magic. I do not have any details as to its contents as I think silence is magically binding on the privy council of magic, and its members in the senate that ratified it. Until it's presented in the Philippines, I cannot comment further on it.
Aubrey Morgan, Philippine Guild of Magic
Dumbledore's intrigue raised, however, the tonic on the desk called to him. One sip and he began to slumber.
Albus was unsure if he actually went to sleep or not, simply it was early on that Thursday morning when an owl dropped a letter.
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Dumbledore,
Not sure if somebody was bewitched, however, Narcissa pulled strings, got enough votes to override.
Sorry.
Amos Diggory
Hermione woke Thursday on the crowded sleeping pad in Hagrid's hut. Hermione moved the covers, a sit up, and she stood. A step over Colin and Dennis, to the bed with Harry, Ron, and Euan on it, asleep. Gia rolled on the pad nearly beneath the bed.
"Morning," Notley said softly as he entered the hut, "Should have breakfast momentarily."
Notley stood with Hermione. She turned to The Daily Prophet on the table.
"Best use is to line the bed pan with it," Notley said.
Hermione snorted, the front page with a picture of them confronting Finnigan the previous morning.
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Thursday 15 May 1997
Potter Accosts Studentsby Ryan Elcot
Yesterday, Potter and his accomplices pummeled Dark Curses at their students in the corridors at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite witnessing the despicable display of Dark Wizardry, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore saw fit to punish the students cowering for their lives dealing out suspensions, detentions, and docking of points, to all save Potter and his cohorts thereby revealing once again Dumbledore's true intentions.
After consulting with the top Auror on the scene and the Board of Governors, the Minister of Magic overturned punishments being dealt out as unfair to punish the victims of the crime. The Minister did stipulate that since no students had been seriously injured in the incident, the matter of punishment of Potter would be left in the hands of the Headmaster.
This incident only stems to confirm that Potter is a deadly nuisance to the wizarding world and that stronger measures are needed. This is in addition to the growing number of deaths attributed to Potter in the recent weeks; last night, three people were savagely murdered in Kiribati along with four later in Syria.
"Thought Diggory…" Hermione started.
"Politicians…" Notley said, "They're lying with every breath as their lips move. They'll appease you one moment, stab you in the back the next."
"Let me guess," Ginny said.
Hermione turned to the other.
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Hogwarts Corpse
Potter Strikes!by Seamus Finnigan
Viciously, Potter stalked in the halls yesterday morning choosing for the right moment to spring, and he launched his voracious attack upon the innocents only worried about making their first lessons in time. Dark curse after Dark curse shot forth, breaking limbs, knocking people out, threatening to kill any who dares to stop his moment of fury. Intervention by our infamous Headmaster only goes to show who Potter has been practicing upon. Fortunately, the Minister of Magic saw the truth of the situation and yanked the unfair punishments dealt out on Potter's behalf.
"Any progress?" Gia asked.
A welcome change in tone, as they turned back for the three boys on the bed.
"Give them a bit more time," Notley said.
Gia stretched, went for the door, opened it. The morning light, and Moody that stepped into illusion.
"Not so fast!" Moody growled.
"If you value your neck," Moody growled, "You'll stay inside."
"I need a shower—" Gia protested.
"It'd be your last," Moody growled, "With a school full of assassins, think girl, think."
Gia closed the door.
"Only the girls need to be here," Notley said, "The rest—"
"I'm staying," Neville stated.
Hermione turned, the faces that watched her, past Notley to gaze at the three, the skin nearly back to normal.
"We'll wait," Hermione said.
Notley's wand back out, the check to the bare chests, between the nipples.
"Think it's safe," Notley said. A fast rummage to his bag, the removal of a small vial. "Tonic for…you know."
A turn, the crouch, Notley administered a couple of drops to each tongue.
"How soon until I can smack Ron?" Ginny asked.
Snickers.
"Got a store to run," Fred said.
"We're not walking back," Hermione said, her fingers to her holster as Notley drew his wand.
"Ideal patient experience," Notley said, "Waking up healed."
"Can you add in a bit of pain?" Hermione said, "Help them take this seriously?"
"Enervate, Enervate, Enervate!" Notley commanded, the wand aimed at the three in succession, hair that finished growing back.
Blue eyes beneath Ron's thin red hair fluttered open first.
"What are you up to?" Ron demanded, "Wanting to bang…?"
"You're late for the todger judging," Gia said.
"Really?" Ron asked.
"In…" Harry's eyes that fluttered open.
"You'll feel a bit awkward in your skin for the day," Notley said, "Breakfast and more bed rest. If it gets intolerable, see me immediately, otherwise, I will visit this afternoon."
"Alright," Ron said, "Quidditch practice!"
"Tomorrow, at the earliest," Notley said, "Unless you want Madam Pomfrey to … examine you before clearing you."
Ron shook his head.
"Muggles would be dead," Notley said, "Instead, a day's rest seems a bargain."
Date:Wed Nov 27 09:51:42 2024