Politics Will Out
They had meant to do more with the diary.
They had meant to take it to Snape, to at least try to learn more about it (without writing in it again).
But... after Harry had tucked it away, behind a line of books on the shelf of his bedside table... it was almost as if 'out of sight, out of mind' was more fact than superstition.
There was even a time or two that Harry had put pen to paper, intent on adding 'figuring out the diary' to his to-do list, but as soon as ink touched his notebook, he shrugged it off. Surely, he'd just remember it.
But then there wasn't another attack, and the mandrakes were growing fast and healthy.
And then there were more politics, and worries, and homework, and the diary fell into the back of their minds, as day after day passed and things seemed... calmer.
Between the flipping of a page, Harry blinked back out of a study haze one dreary afternoon to see the flutter of a letter fall on his books. By the time he looked up, he couldn’t tell who had dropped it.
He opened the letter subtly, using his notes as a cover as he unfolded it and began to scan it.
Heir Potter-Black,
I understand that you are not in a position to have your position as a potential leader of the Grey known.
However, as I’m sure you know from Parkinson, rumors have substantial power in our world, let alone in the halls of Hogwarts.
If it pleases you, I would begin to sow seeds here at school, similar to Higgs in the Alley, to show those who would be sympathetic to your cause another path.
Starting now, before you begin to make moves, would allow those interested to ask you questions, to make that choice, so that when you do announce, you have immediate and full support.
I would not wish to put you in a position you are not prepared for.
But I truly think that this would give you a headstart in the future.
I hope you will come to think of me as a political advisor in the near future and moving forward, and this is just the beginning of what I could aid you with.
Yours in respect,
Erin, Daughter of Avery
Harry handed the missive to Hermione, who stuck her quill in the messy bun of her hair and scanned it quickly.
She looked up with a slight smile, but shrugged when he raised a brow at her.
Harry turned to where Avery was watching him out of the corner of her eye. Once he was sure he had her attention, he sighed and gave a brisk nod.
She couldn’t hide her own grin as she looked back towards her books.
It started, of course, with a stray comment from McLaggen, even after he was told to leave Harry alone.
Harry had been… antsy, to say the least.
After three days, Hermione was about to cast a permanent silencing charm on him just to stop hearing his foot tap the marble.
It took a gentle shove from Ron after class one day for him to actually do something about it.
He stood a few feet away from the professor’s desk, close enough to be noticed but not too close to be overbearing.
“What is it, Mr. Potter, I don’t have all day, and your detention isn’t until Tuesday.” The man’s voice wasn’t unkind, but it was tired, as it usually was after class, even though the Hufflepuff/Slytherin class tended to be calmer. He seemed much worse on the days Slytherin shared with Gryffindor.
Even though Harry had practiced this speech multiple times in the past week, his voice still came out jittery and weak. “Sir, I don’t mean to make assumptions about our relationship, or to push you on an issue that may be none of my business. You have every right, and, as I’m quite familiar, no hesitancy with telling me to never bring up this topic again, and to get out of your sight. But I need to ask this of someone who actually knows, and I think you would know better than most, even if it makes my esteem in your eyes resort back to an immature child.”
Snape had stilled at the sound of pain in the boy’s voice, concerned and apprehensive, but nodded. “Enough subtlety, Mr. Potter, neither of us have the patience for that right now. What is it.”
Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Would my mother have been disappointed that I was in Slytherin?” He kept his eyes closed, but could feel the tension in the room rise. After a moment of cold, unsure silence, he began to ramble. “I know you were her closest friend, at least at the beginning, and people don’t change that much, you must know how she would have felt. And the other professors, McGonagall, Flitwick, they say it wouldn’t have been an issue, but they knew her as a student, you knew her as Lily, and no one else I know really did, and with everything that’s going on, I can’t help but feel like I’m letting her down, they call her the Golden Girl of Gryffindor and I’m in snake’s green and—” He didn’t notice the man shifting until he felt two hands on his shoulders and nearly jumped out of his skin.
Snape pulled back, hands raised, before settling on the edge of his desk, pulling a vial from a shelf with a wave of his hand. “Calming Drought.”
Harry nodded, sniffing it just in case, before knocking it back and taking a relieved breath. “Apologies, sir. As I said, I don’t mean to sound childish. I just… I have very few people to ask, and it’s not as if Petunia would know or care.”
The professor pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hadrian,” Harry’s eyes snapped to his at the name, “I’ll be very honest with you, this is a very uncomfortable topic, mainly because there were a lot of regrets on both sides. But I can offer you this—there is nothing you could do that would make your mother stop loving you, nor be proud of your accomplishments. Lily had no issue with the Slytherin House, my placement there was not one of the reasons for our troubles. She would have been proud to see you fight the stereotype laid before you, only to break the house divides as you have been, much to my consternation. And yes, I am referring to Ms. Bones’ and Ms. Lovegood’s visits to the common room that is supposed to remain secret.”
Harry grinned sheepishly.
Severus gave the softest smile in response, barely a twitch of the lips. “Your mother cared for you so much that she gave her life to see you live, do not think that she would ever regret that, especially not for the color of your robes.”
Harry nodded slowly. “I appreciate that, sir. And I apologize for opening up any old wounds.”
Severus sighed, but it was the ‘ugh, children’ sigh and not the ‘I want to murder everything’ one, so Harry felt pretty good about the conversation. “It is my duty as your head of house to do what I can to fix what ails you, at my own peril, Mr. Potter. It is not for you to concern yourself about. Now get out of my sight.”
Harry beamed at him as he picked up his bag and headed for the door. “You do a right good job of it too, professor.”
To be fair to Harry, the potions cabinet was an accident.
Rion Yuan, one of the first years, was prone to get headaches in the colder months.
The headache cure potion was only a year three potion.
If he was being honest with himself, Harry probably could have brewed it by the end of his first year.
(Potions class, at this point, was about experimenting with the recipe to optimize the result.)
It was a very straightforward potion, one that mainly just needed to simmer for a while.
So it wasn’t hard for him to just… have a pot of it brewing while he worked on other things in the dungeons.
Snape wasn’t one to question it as long as nothing blew up (that wasn’t supposed to).
And… well, a pot made more than Rion really needed.
So Harry asked Farley if there was a place to keep the excess for someone else to use.
Within the hour, there was a room made, shelves prespelled for longevity, one an ice box for any potions that may need to be chilled, and a list of who removed what potion.
Farley recruited Erin Avery to help her keep an eye on who was taking what, if only to make sure no one took too much of something that could end poorly.
The main potions that had to be closely monitored were the focus-enhancing (as they tended to cause a lack of sleep if taken too close to bed) and nightmare-clearing (very addicting when taken too frequently).
It didn’t take long for other potions prodigies in each year to start adding to it, whether just to challenge themselves, to make things their friends could use, or to practice for OWLs or NEWTs.
Horton Brighton, a seventh year on the fast track to go to a magical university in Japan for potions, volunteered to make sure that none of the potions were (serious) pranks or could kill anyone.
Each bottle was labeled, of course, and organized according to what it would do.
(No one admitted to seeing Snape duck in and double check everything, as well as add a few of the harder potions that may be needed.)
It was only a few students who seemed worried, that they were using student-made potions, that Madam Pomfrey wasn’t regulating the usage.
But Harry saw how scared Rion had been of going to see the school healer, especially one in a new country, a new school.
It may be somewhat irrational, but that didn’t make it any less real.
Besides, it was great practice, and a potions cabinet was better than spelling away any unneeded brew.
“Hadrian?”
Harry looked up from watching Luna make his flower crown to see Theo standing awkwardly nearby, a look of panic on his face.
“What’s wrong?” He stood quickly, dislodging Millie’s cat from his lap.
“Did you go into our lounge recently?”
“No, I’ve been in the common room since we came from lunch. Why?”
Theo shook his head and turned back to the hall, Harry, Luna, Susan, and Ron following.
Ron whistled when they walked in.
The couch cushions were torn, pillows and stuffing thrown around the room.
The coffee table and end tables were shifted, drawers opened, contents emptied.
Each of the doors were opened, and they could see that they had all been tossed just like the lounge.
“Theo, make a note that we need to prioritize protective wards,” Harry sighed as he looked around the room. “Luna, please go find your cousin and tell him that he and his minions need to come and see if anything was stolen.”
Luna gave him a wide look, but nodded and ran back towards the common room.
Ron, Theo, and Harry each ducked into their rooms, aimlessly searching through their things.
Susan lurked in Harry’s doorway. “Shouldn’t you tell Snape before you start cleaning up?”
“Ugh, probably.” Harry sighed again, sitting on the floor as he sorted through some papers strewn around. “I’ll go in a second. Or… nah, I’ll send Ron. Malfoy’s going to throw a fit and Theo and I would probably be best to be here until Snape arrives.”
She gave him a smile, even as her eyes flickered with worry around the room. “You know your delegation.”
“I prefer to think that I know my friends.”
Susan bit her lip. “You still think of him as a friend?”
“Friend. Family.” He looked up at her with a sad look. “He’s still one of mine, until he makes it clear he isn’t. He has Black blood. I may be new to the wix world, but I at least understand the weight that holds in our family.”
“You’re a good kid, Hadrian Potter.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m a month older than you.”
“Three weeks, don’t even.”
Ron pushed Susan further into the room. “I’m all set, luckily most of my stuff was in my trunk and warded. I didn’t actually clean, I figured we might want an adult to look through things.”
“Sue had the same idea. Go find Snape for us?”
Ron groaned. “Why me?”
“Because Draco is on his way and I’m not in the mood for you two poking at each other.”
“Fine.” He looked around the room. “Happy Oestre to us, I guess.” Ron left with another groan, leaving Harry and Susan to sift through Harry’s things in silence.
A thump from Susan’s direction made Harry look up sharply. “Everything okay?”
She was holding his journal from the year before, riddled in notes and comments in different colored inks.
“Sue?”
She looked up, but instead of meeting his concerned gaze, she was scanning the room.
“Susan. What is it?”
“Hadrian, where were you keeping the diary?”
He dropped the metal casing for a practice snitch, ignoring the fluttering of wings as the snitch escaped. He flung himself across the floor towards his nightstand, pulling books and papers out of the way.
He threw them across the room in frustration, eyes scanning furiously for any speck of black.
When his eyes turned back to Susan, there was fear and anger in equal measure.
The diary was gone.
They spread the word to the other Heralds, and they all seemed on edge as they navigated the castle over the next week.
But nothing seemed to happen.
Classes went on, Quidditch season continued, Newblood Club kept meeting.
They just… were nearly constantly under supervision when not in their common rooms.
It was starting to grate on them all, even the professors.
Especially since it had been so long since an attack.
Until, when the masses were heading down to watch the second to last game of the year, Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor, to see who was going to get third place in the Quidditch Cup.
McGonagall had both teams surrounding her with matching expressions of outrage, a magical amplifier in her hands.
“The match is cancelled. All students must return to their common rooms at once. Find a prefect or your Head of House and make your way back to the castle.”
Ron and Harry met each other’s eyes as they milled closer to the teams.
Cedric and Oliver were both attempting to persuade McGonagall to allow the match.
Most of the rest of the students were either gossiping, heading back to the castle, or just watching the impending fight.
Snape lingered at the edge of the crowd, waiting for Harry to look his way before he gestured towards him. Ron was just a step behind.
“Sir?”
“I need the two of you to remain calm, and not act foolhardy lest I find a reason to detain you with a freezing charm.”
Harry instantly stepped back, Ron more of a weight along his side. “Who is it?”
Snape’s jaw clenched as his eyes flickered between the two of them. “Miss Granger.”
Harry’s world went white.
Only the sudden force of Ron’s fingernails digging into his upper arm kept him centered.
“Pet-Petrified? Or…” Ron’s voice was weak.
“Petrified, Mr. Weasley. She will be fine once the mandrakes are mature.”
Ron swayed into Harry’s side.
Harry took a deep breath. “Are there not any mandrakes somewhere that are already mature?”
“The mandrakes we have are on track for the growing season, Mr. Potter.”
“Here, sure. But you’re telling me there’s not a greenhouse somewhere, or a country in another climate that doesn’t have them? You’re telling me we don’t have any mandrakes anywhere in the UK from last season?”
“I am only repeating what has been told to me by Professor Sprout.”
Harry closed his eyes. “Right.”
“Should I be concerned about the two of you? Or do you maintain your senses?”
Ron bumped Harry’s shoulder. “We’re fine, sir, for what can be expected. Should we get back to the castle?”
“Slytherin common room, to be exact. I understand your desire to share this news with your friends, but if you are not in the common room when I arrive there in one hour, I will have no choice but to discipline you.”
Harry looked up at the inflection on the time, and bit back a grin. “Of course, sir. We wouldn’t dream of being an inconvenience to you. See you in an hour.”
The boys watched the professor stalk off, towards the castle, leaving them with a few dozen students still milling around.
Ron grew quiet, eyes scanning the crowd. “We should tell Nott. They’d gotten close these past few months.”
Harry clenched his jaw and nodded.
It wasn’t hard to find Theo. He had been dragged down to the field with Millie, who was inevitably sitting in the front row of the Slytherin stands.
Harry left Ron to meander towards the twins, who were clearly debating on pulling Oliver away from their Head or joining the argument.
He climbed the stands, pulling Hannah and Anthony along as he did.
He stopped directly in front of Theo, kneeling and taking his hand.
Theo was immediately on edge.
“We found out why the game was cancelled. They found another student petrified.”
All of the Heralds leaned in closer.
“It… They found Hermione.”
Hannah burst into tears.
Anthony was stiff as he mechanically put an arm around her.
Theo pulled his hand away, face pale. “No.”
They watched as he stood, running a hand over his face. “I was… I was supposed to go to the library with her. I…”
Harry straightened. “Theo, it’s no one’s fault but whoever’s doing this. And she’ll be fine, just like Justin. We just have to be a little more patient.”
The other boy just shook his head. “I… I need to go. I… I’ll be in my room.”
No one tried to stop him as they watched him head back to the castle.
Harry sighed. “I’m going to find some upper years, someone to take me and Ron to see her. Tell the others, yeah?”
Millie was the one who nodded, even as she looked a little shellshocked.
Harry pressed a kiss to the crown of Hannah’s head and left the stands again, looking for either Ron or Marcus, feeling… raw. Exposed. Tired.
He blinked when he heard Marcus’s voice joining his boyfriend’s as they continued the now-hushed argument with McGonagall back in the center of the field. The rest of the Slytherin team were close, clearly worried about the championship game only a few weeks away.
By the time Harry made it over, sliding between George and Adrian Pucey, McGonagall clapped her hands.
“The discussion is over, Captains. I understand that this season is important for recruitment, but the safety of the school is paramount over all else. You will have to find other ways to impress scouts.” Without any hesitation, she turned and left the field, attempting to collect stray Gryffindors as she went.
The teams started to chatter, a din that rang a little too loud in Harry’s ears.
He was… he was just so tired.
“This is outrageous. Two games left in the season, and they go and cancel it. Can you believe this?” Marcus turned to Harry. “Hadrian, you can’t even finish your first official season. Bloody ridiculous.”
He attempted to reach out, maybe to pat Harry’s shoulder, maybe to ruffle his hair.
Harry shoved his arm away and glared. “I don’t care.”
“Hadrian, you know how important this season is—”
Harry stomped his foot. “MARCUS! Quidditch doesn’t matter right now, Hermione got petrified!”
Silence fell, even the Gryffindor chasers covering their mouths in surprise.
“Shit, mate, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Harry looked at the suddenly pale captain, Ron’s sudden hand a comfort on his shoulder. “I know. Just.. write your da, yeah? I don’t know why we aren’t buying Mandrakes that are already mature. I’m pissed off enough as it is with Justin still up there.”
Marcus shifted awkwardly. “I thought the old goat had a mail ward or something? Remember, my last letter didn’t seem to go through, even though we coded it pretty decently.”
Harry groaned, about to bang his head Pucey’s shoulder just because it was the closest solid object. “And they’re not likely to let you out to Hogsmeade to send something or even apparate out.” He took a deep breath. “I can’t… I can’t deal with this right now. Ron, c’mon.”
The two left without even looking back.
If Harry was being honest, the one who was taking Hermione’s petrification the worst was Snape.
Each night, the professor stalked the halls of the dungeons as if pacing the front line of a battle, eyes scanning, wand out.
By the third day, it was clear he was forgoing sleep.
Harry couldn’t help but stop by the kitchens to ask yet another favor of Tweak, and had to bite back a grin at the confused look on Snape’s face when tea and an energy potion appeared on his desk during their first class period.
After all Snape had done for him, he wasn’t about to let the man wither before their eyes over something he didn’t have control over.
(He knew there was a bit of hypocrisy in that, but didn’t dwell on it.)
“He definitely knows something.”
Harry rubbed at his face, blinking up to throw an involuntary smile towards Luna standing next to his table at the library. “Hey. Who knows what?”
“Hagrid. I mentioned the Chamber, saying that Daddy was interested in the lore, and he started talking about your research into Fawkes.”
“Oh, yeah. I still need to get that Creatures Collective back to him.”
Luna laughed lightly as she leaned forward, carding her hands through his hair. “No Atticus today?”
“Hmm. No. He’s taken over Hedwig’s tree in the second year lounge. It’s too cold in the halls, he doesn’t like leaving the rooms right now.”
“You’ll have to triple check your things before you leave for the summer.”
“I know. I may just have Hagrid put him in his hut until the train is gone. Should I go talk to him?”
“Atticus? I don’t think he’ll have much to say.”
Harry gave a chuckle even as he rolled his eyes. “You know who I mean. I’ll drag Ron with me. We’ll go after curfew, we won’t be able to make it during the day without getting caught by some teacher or another.”
“Even with the cloak?”
Harry yawned. “Mm. They check head counts too often. Until we find a way to either be in two places at once, or make reasonable body doubles, we’ll have to just sneak around at night.”
“Just be careful. If something happens to you, Pansy and Susan may team up to tear down the school, and Ron wouldn’t be around to calm them down, since he’d be right beside you.”
She pulled away, pulling at a strand. “You look terrible. You need to sleep more.”
“I’ll sleep more when this is all figured out. I need to finish this verb chart for Latin, and there’s an essay I need to plan for Magical Theory. Not to mention, I have to organize my notes for Mione.”
Luna moved around the table, settling across from him. “Give me your notes, I’ll organize and copy them. Daddy taught me a copying spell before I left so I could copy any interesting texts to send back to him.”
“You’re a gift, Lu.” He pushed his Transfiguration pile towards her, and gave her a wide grin.
The bricks were beginning to close after the last Slytherin came in from dinner when Ron and Harry, covered in the Invisibility Cloak, ducked back through from the common room.
They waited until Professor Sinistra, who had chaperoned their trip back to the Labyrinth, disappeared, her footsteps slowly fading away, before they moved again.
It wasn’t hard, after a year and a half, to navigate the halls quickly and silently.
Taking a passage they had found the year before, they crept up a back staircase and ended up at the courtyard they had unofficially claimed, easily cutting around the greenhouses and towards the groundskeeper's hut.
It was still light when they knocked on the door, Fang immediately beginning to bark. Harry pulled the cloak off of them, shoving it into its usual place in his bag.
“Hagrid, it’s Ron and Harry, open up!” Harry called, voice low but clear as they heard shifting on the other side.
The door was pulled open with a gusto, almost causing Ron, who had been about to knock again, to fall forward.
“What’re you two doin’ here?” Hagrid peered through, face worried.
The boys, however, were more invested in what he was holding.
“Expecting trouble, Hagrid?” Harry’s eyes flickered between Hagrid’s face and the giant crossbow that was already loaded.
“Err…”
Ron shoved through the door. “You think the Ministry is going to pin this on you again?”
Hagrid’s face drained of all color, his beard a stark contrast. “How…”
Harry followed Ron, immediately settling on the floor and letting Fang drape himself across his lap. “You should know that we researched all we could find about the Chamber. Of course we found records from fifty years ago, about Riddle and you. But you didn’t actually think we believed that you were behind it?”
By the time he looked back at the man, he was starting to cry.
“It weren’t me. I… I had a friend, a… a pet, and Tom told Dippet that he was the one doin’ the killin’. But Aragog, he weren’t even old enough to get out of his box, let lone do nothin’.”
“We never thought for a second that it was actually you, Hagrid. But if you know anything, if you can tell us anything, we might be able to help.”
Hagrid gave Harry a watery grin, but before he could speak, Ron, who had taken post by a window, let out a groan.
“Incoming. Fudge and Dumbledore. Neither look happy.”
Harry sighed as he gently shoved Fang off of his lap. “C’mon, Ron, we’ll use the cloak in the corner behind Hagrid’s chair.”
By the time the knock sounded again, Harry and Ron had retreated into the farthest corner of the room, breathing shallowly and trying to not even shift.
Hagrid was once again pale, shaking as he reached to open the door.
Fudge was… not what Harry was expecting.
The Minister was clearly anxious, hair astray, clothes mismatched.
He wasn’t someone Harry would say inspired confidence as a leader.
And that was even before he started talking.
“Dreadful business, here, Hagrid, but things have gotten out of control. The Ministry has to act.”
“Professor Dumbledore—” Hagrid looked towards the headmaster, who was uncommonly serious as he stared Fudge down.
“Cornelius, I want it on record that Hagrid has my full confidence in this matter.”
Harry had to bite back a disbelieving scoff.
“Albus, we’ve been over this. He has a previous record, and it would put the school governors at ease.”
“To remove him would do nothing.”
“But I have to act. I am the leader of this country, I am expected to step in when things get out of control. I am under an enormous amount of pressure over this, four attacks? On Muggleborns, no less?”
He sighed as he looked at Hagrid, who had collapsed loudly into a nearby chair.
“Look, if it turns out that someone else is behind this, you’ll be released immediately. But I have to at least take you in, it’s my duty—”
“Take me? Where?”
Fudge was staring out the window. “Only for a short stretch, mind you, only a precaution.”
“Yeh can’t be serious.”
Before the Minister could answer, another knock sounded.
Ron’s fingers dug into Harry’s arm when the door swung open to reveal Lucius Malfoy.
A very… satisfied Lucius Malfoy.
“Ah, Cornelius. Already here, I see. Fantastic. The Ministry should be here in some capacity to witness this.”
“Get outta here, Malfoy. I don’t want you in my house!”
“Believe me, sir, I derive no joy to be in your…” He looked around, clearing his throat. “House. But I needed to meet with the headmaster, and, well…” His face broke out in a cold grin. “Here he is.”
Harry had never seen Dumbledore so tense.
His eyes were alight with a fury that was reminiscent of the man that led the war against Grindelwald.
“And what, Lucius, could you want with me?”
“Well, it truly is dreadful, headmaster, but the governors simply cannot allow this to continue. Yet another attack, and on a Slytherin, no less. So, we had an emergency meeting.”
He pulled a scroll from his robes with a smirk. “Order of suspension. All twelve signatures are there.”
“Now, now, Lucius, I’m not sure—” Fudge trailed off, eyes darting between Malfoy and Dumbledore.
Hagrid finally found his voice, and it was back in full force. “How many did ya bribe, Malfoy? Ya take Dumbledore, there’ll be killins next!”
“Hagrid! Calm yourself.” Dumbledore reached a hand out towards the larger man. “If the governors request my removal, then of course I will honor that.”
His eyes had not left Malfoy’s.
Malfoy’s smirk had not left his face.
“However,” Dumbledore continued, words slow and clear. “I will not truly leave the castle until none here are loyal to me. Hogwarts will always answer a call for help.”
His eyes flickered away from Malfoy.
Towards the far corner.
Where Harry’s eyes narrowed.
“Well… an admirable sentiment, I’m sure,” Malfoy hedged, eyes scanning the room, clearly unsure of the headmaster’s point. “I’m sure the castle, and indeed, the board, will miss the… unique way you ran things. Hopefully Professor McGonagall will manage to prevent…” His brows raised. “Killins.”
He opened the door, bowing as Dumbledore strode out without a second glance.
“Ah, well, Hagrid, we must be off as well.” Fudge adjusted his horrifically colored bowler.
Hagrid stood, but before he even moved, he took a deep breath.
“Well, if anyone were tuh want answers, ye’d just have tuh follow the spiders.”
Hagrid took a step forward, and almost turned back. “And someone’ll need tuh feed Fang.”
He strode out of the hut, Fudge following closely behind, patting at his face with a handkerchief.
The door closed, and Ron pulled the Cloak off of them.
“You saw that, right? Dumbledore looked right at us!”
Harry stared vacantly into the distance. “One day, I’ll deconstruct those glasses. Do you think it’s spells or runes that enhance his sight?”
Ron groaned. “Focus, Harry.”
“And neither of them are Slytherins. Surely there was a way to actually work their… hints into the conversation.” His face was screwed up. “And Dumbledore, trying to suggest that we be loyal to him? Loyalty is a two way street. That’s almost hilarious.”
“What did Hagrid mean by follow the spiders?”
Harry’s eyes went wide, a connection clicking in his brain. “Shit.”
“What?”
“Ronan said the centaurs were worried about Acromantulas. That the colony had been… weird, acting out, almost as if they were being threatened.”
“So you think…”
“We might be making a jaunt into the Forbidden Forest a yearly thing to go along with the yearly mystery.”
Ron shifted on his feet. “Um…”
“Not tonight. I don’t think either of us would be ready to handle that.”
He nearly laughed at Ron’s immediate relaxation.
“Hagrid’s gone. Dumbledore’s gone. The rest of the year is going to be interesting.”
“Can we go back now? I need you to look over my potions essay Snape handed back earlier. You explain his corrections a lot better than his insults in the margins.”
“Yeah. C’mon, Fang. You can stay with us until Hagrid comes back, okay?”
“Seriously, Harry? He said someone needed to feed Fang, not adopt him.”
“I’m not leaving him here, Ron. You know he has attachment issues, and if Hagrid isn’t even on campus, someone needs to keep him.”
“Ugh, fine. But you’re finding a spell to get fur off of my robes. C’mon, Fang.”
The dog whined, but followed along, even when they were sneaking through the castle under the cloak.
No one questioned when they walked into the common room, clearly after curfew.
Nor did anyone blink twice at Harry bringing a dog into his rooms.
Harry didn’t get any sleep that night.
Ron dragged him into his room, Tweak automatically enlarging the bed so they both could comfortably fit.
Fang curled up on the rug at the foot of the bed.
Ron dozed off after an hour, breath slowing, bringing a calm to the room that Harry relished.
But he still stayed awake, staring at the Cannons poster tacked to the ceiling.
Lucius Malfoy was a bigger player than Harry had expected.
There wasn’t a lot Harry could do about that.
Not with how he was set up.
Avery was working the school angle.
Flick was working Diagon.
But the real fight was going to be Wizengamot.
And even if Andi were to start moving forward, Malfoy had been in power there too long.
It was clear at the way Fudge kept glancing at him, looking for reassurance, looking for backing.
Something needed to happen, and fast.
And at the very least, Harry needed to figure out just what Malfoy was playing at.
He ran through plans, strategies, until the sun began to light the room in a dull, pale glow.
Madam Pomfrey looked close to tears when she met Harry and Ron at the door the next morning.
Ginny and the first years had offered to take Fang for the day, utilizing Sprout’s offer to supervise outdoor time for any student who wanted.
Ron had silently followed Harry towards the stairs that led to the hospital wing.
One knock was all it took for Pomfrey to slide out, not even affording them a glimpse through the open door.
“I’m sorry, Hadrian. The headmaster enacted a new rule. No visitors allowed.”
Harry forced his fist to unfurl. “What if I’m hurt?”
She shook her head. “Separate areas. You wouldn’t be able to see her.”
He slid down the wall, sitting on the floor. “Thank you, Madam Pomfrey.”
The matron gave a watery sigh and nodded, closing the door with a soft click.
Ron watched Harry with a frown. “What do you want to do, mate?”
“I dunno, Ron. I really don’t know.”
Ron leaned against the opposite wall, pulling out a book to read as if he had nowhere else to go.
Harry knew that Pomfrey kept looking at them through the glazed windows.
He knew that it was only time until she either came out to shoo them away, or sent for another teacher.
He didn’t think it would be the headmaster himself.
Ron sighed at the first flash of color at the end of the hall. “Do you want me to stay? Or would you rather have this out between just the two of you?”
“Either way. It’s up to you if you want to be here for this.”
Before the headmaster could even speak, Harry threw him a glare. “Weren’t you removed from power? Surely you’re not permitted to remain on campus.”
“Hogwarts charter allows me a full day to settle affairs before Minerva officially takes over. Should I ask how you came by this information?” Harry could see a twinkle of his eye from his periphery.
“You may ask. I may choose not to answer.”
The headmaster sighed. “Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, as I’m sure you are aware, there are rules against being outside of a common room without either a prefect or a professor.”
“We’re two feet away from a staff member, sir, surely this is allowed.” Harry keeled his head back against the wall, tiredly looking up towards the man.
“And I’m sure Madam Pomfrey would appreciate being able to do her job without needing to be concerned that you two will be part of it.”
Dumbledore gave Ron a genial smile.
Ron just raised his eyebrows in return.
Harry brought his legs up to his chest. “I’m sure Madam Pomfrey would rather not have any petrifications in her care. How is it possible that there are no mature mandrakes available for the school to use?”
“Attempts have been made, but the mandrake is not a terribly common crop, Harry.”
“Then why is it taught?”
“Now, now, my boy—”
Harry inhaled sharply, anger growing. “Why haven’t the petrifications been in the paper, Albus? Why hasn’t Amelia Bones been around to investigate, especially when two of her niece’s closest friends are in the hospital wing?”
“Hogwarts Charter states that only the death of a student will allow Aurors on the grounds for official business. It’s an inhouse issue, Harry. No need to cause public scandal, or worry parents.”
“The charter.” Harry stood, jaw set. “So you’re telling me that Dan and Emma have no idea that their daughter was Merlin knows how close to losing her life?”
Harry’s voice was cold, drawling, and the headmaster had to repress a shiver at how similar the eerie cadence was to another Slytherin many years ago.
“Harry, my boy-”
“Don’t call me boy. If that’s the case, if Aurors aren’t to be involved, how did Hagrid just get arrested?”
“I’m sure your fellow Slytherins have taught you how far Lucius Malfoy’s power extends.”
“If by my fellow Slytherins, you mean my aunts, one of which being his wife, then yes.”
Albus sighed. “I worry about these connections you make, Harry. Narcissa Malfoy-”
“-is a trusted member of my house. And was one of the first adults to actually care about me for something more than a scar on my head. Maybe if I had been raised in the wix world, things would be different. The way I am, headmaster, is due to the decisions you made on my behalf. So if you are to worry about anything, worry about yourself.”
Harry turned, not even looking at the man. “If you’ll excuse me, I have notes to copy for the classmates not able to attend class.”
Ron shot Dumbledore a dead look and followed behind Harry, neither of them turning back at the worried headmaster.
“We need to find a copy of the current charter.”
“I’ll find Millie.”
They meandered down to the labyrinth, using secret passages and back hallways to avoid anyone and everyone.
By the time they reached the edge of what was considered Slytherin territory, Harry felt like he was vibrating out of his skin.
He paused, and Ron looked at him with concern.
“You go ahead. I just… I need to just…”
Ron nodded. “Okay. Just… go to the Nook, yeah? Somewhere we know is mostly safe, and should be empty. I’ll find Millie and keep an eye on Fang, I don’t know if the firsties are back.”
“Yeah. Okay. If anything happens, that’s where I’ll be.”
Ron patted his shoulder and headed towards the common room, leaving Harry alone to take a breath and head back up to Serpentine Hall.
He barely greeted Ozzie before he was closing the door behind himself and trying to push off a panic attack.
By the time he was able to breathe again, he was exhausted, mentally and physically.
Harry sighed, dropping to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest as he took in the empty Nook.
It had been a while since they had been able to meet up.
He knew they tried to duck in whenever they could get away from a professor’s watchful eye.
But the room just felt… empty.
The chalkboard with notes on the mystery of the year was outdated.
A study schedule tacked to the wall was in Hermione’s perfect looping handwriting.
Justin’s book on the relations between dwarves and goblins (sent by an eager Bill Weasley) laid open on the table near the window.
Harry took a shuddering breath as he stared at one of the photos taken from that first night they were all back in the Nook, holding back tears at how happy they all had been to be back, to be together.
He almost bit through his lip at the thought of just how… how much he just wanted to ask Hermione questions. What she thought of Fudge. What her theory was about the petrifications. What she thought about Hagrid being some kind of scapegoat, of getting arrested by Draco’s dad, of his idea to make a move.
He wanted Justin to laugh at some stupid joke only the muggle-raised would know.
He wanted Hagrid to be back in his hut, making too-hard rock cakes and perfectly steeped tea.
He even wanted the annoying flash of Colin’s camera in the strangest of places.
He just wanted his friends.
And he was getting pissed that they kept getting taken away from him.