HA
*****
By the time they were able to get to Hogsmeade, Harry was fuming. Not only had Umbridge tried to give him yet another detention, this time for simply looking at her wrong in the hallway, but Snape and McGonagall told him gently that they had been unable to get his study group re-instated with a professor present. And it was getting too risky to keep up the tutoring ruse. So they were forced to the last option he’d wanted to pursue….
Hermione walked next to him as they made their way to the village, rambling about the protections she had put into the coins they were going to use for the group they were proposing in an effort to distract him from his black mood.
He tried to be grateful to her but he just couldn’t focus on her words beyond the anger.
When Harry noticed the hooded figure on the outskirts of the village, between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade proper, he simply guided them gently in that direction. He could practically feel Ron tensing, his wand instantly in his hand, but Harry just looked to his best friend and current guard-in-training and shook his head minutely. Ron studied him out of the corner of his eye, then nodded but didn’t put his wand away.
“Pleasant day for a trip,” the gruff voice said and Harry relaxed. He hadn’t been sure and it said something about his experiences when he immediately approached a shadowy hooded figure instead of running away, even when not entirely sure of their identity. Moody was sure to rant at him for a bit whenever he found out. If he was anything like his imposter had been anyway. After all, Death Eaters liked to run about in hoods… Granted, he’d been angry enough to curse first and ask questions second if the man had attacked.
“Yes, it is, Mr. Graves,” Harry greeted. “To what do we owe the visit?”
They’d perfected their little act outside of Arianna’s protective ward, so it was easy for him to address the entire group appropriately, but even in his head, he thought of all of them as aunts and uncles by this point. He looked forward to the day he could call them such all the time.
“The Lady has been delayed and asked that Theseus and I do the introduction ourselves,” Graves said, nodding to a spot next to him that Harry could only assume held a disillusioned Theseus Scamander. “Since we’ll be heading the more difficult lessons when we can, and you when we can’t, she figured it would be better for us to attend this little meeting.”
“Doesn’t hurt that the two of you could probably spot a traitor within five minutes…” Ron muttered.
Graves simply smirked, an expression that always made Harry slightly uneasy, since he was as much, if not more so, of a prankster than the Marauders. He was just much subtler about it and had yet to be caught. He had significantly more time to perfect his efforts. But Harry knew.
“Shall we?” Hermione asked, making her way to her designated meeting spot, a stack of parchment and a notebook clutched in her arms.
“This ought to be good…” a disembodied voice cooed from Harry’s right as they followed the bushy haired teen. Only knowing the man was around kept Harry and Ron from jumping. “One lesson you both should take to heart right now. Never piss off a witch.”
Ron groaned and Harry just chuckled, his anger dissipating somewhat with the comfort of family around. Though the American phrases the British pair had picked up from their spouses were entertaining. “Yeah, thanks for that, but you’re about four years too late on it,” Harry said. “We make it habit to piss her off, unfortunately. Even if we should have learned the first time. Granted, rarely is it intentional, but still.”
Graves gave a chuckle of his own but followed, laughing outright when Hermione started muttering about stubborn Gryffindor fools.
“We sure she belongs in Gryffindor?” Theseus asked. Harry was happy he was used to talking to invisible friends, their sneaking with his cloak good practice.
“Fairly sure,” Ron said. “Only a fellow Gryff would keep following us on our stupid adventures and only a Gryff with Claw intelligence would be able to save our arses so often.”
“You make it sound like no Gryffindor is intelligent,” Graves muttered.
“Oh, we are,” Harry said with a laugh, even as they entered the Hog’s Head Inn. “We just tend to forget it when the right thing needs done. Just like Claws tend to forget rules exist in favor of gaining intelligence and knowledge. And Snakes forget that ambition and cunning shouldn’t exclude interacting with the other Houses. And Puffs forget they can’t mother the whole world. We all have our faults, but the important thing is to remember that and lean on others that don’t have the same ones to balance it out and learn to work with them.”
“Well said, Potter,” Malfoy said with a smirk, drawing the groups’ attention to the already seated students.
Harry and his group were by no means late to the meeting they’d arranged, but already there were ten students waiting for them, to the amusement of the proprietor. Draco Malfoy sat with Pansy Parkinson, Susan Bones, Neville Longbottom, Ginny, Fred and George, Theodore Nott, Terry Boot, and Justin Finch-Fletchley. And none of them had managed to kill each other yet. They’d also managed to commandeer most of the tables in the place to form a section just for them.
Graves studied the group for a moment before smiling and taking a seat next to Malfoy. “I’ll set up privacy spells once everyone’s here,” he offered before kicking his chair back and settling in to watch the teenagers.
Harry just chuckled and started up a conversation with Malfoy about Quidditch, a topic the two actually enjoyed discussing now that they no longer snipped constantly at each other. Granted, they kept well away from the strategies and habits of their respective teams, but that was more in fear of their previous captains than in rivalry.
By the time they emerged from their little Quidditch world, the pub had filled and they were surrounded by almost all their yearmates and most of the upper years at least. Much of the pub was full and many were regulated to leaning on various surfaces as all the chairs were occupied. Graves was still lounging in his chair and Harry took a moment to wonder where Theseus was hiding.
“Alright! Alright!” Hermione called, trying to quiet the room to no avail once Graves nodded to indicate the wards were up.
“Shut it!” Ginny shouted, earning immediate silence and a few shocked gazes. Her brothers and Harry not so much, though. They’d seen her in practice as the backup seeker…
“Thanks, Gin. So, you all know why we’re here,” Hermione started. “Umbridge is terrible and has banned our study group, so we’re taking it underground.”
“Of a sort,” Harry put in.
“Yeah, because being actually underground would be weird,” Ron chimed in.
“Anyway!” Hermione said, exasperated to the amusement of many. “What you may not know is that Harry’s gotten a lot of his study material from the man sitting behind us and our previous professor Remus Lupin.”
“The werewolf?” Malfoy asked, stunned.
“My other godfather,” Harry said, warning evident in his tone even as he glared at Malfoy. The blond just nodded and raised his hands to show no threat.
“Just clarifying, Potter,” Malfoy added. “But who’s the bloke?”
“Everyone, this is Percival Graves from America,” Hermione said.
It was instantly apparent the students that knew their history as about half the purebloods backed away quickly, chairs scrapping on the dirty floor, and drew their wands. The proprietor looked alarmed and made his way over, only for Graves to wave him off. The man obviously knew who he was and studied him a moment before nodding and going back to wiping cups with a rag that probably made them dirtier.
“Oi! Care to clue the rest of us in?” one of the muggleborn sixth year Hufflepuffs demanded.
“Percival Graves, former head of Magical Security in MACUSA. Replaced by Grindelwald before he really started his war,” Justin Finch-Fletchley rattled off. “Speculation said he survived his battle with Dumbledore and took over again to hide.”
“Yeah, that’s a load of horse shit,” Graves muttered. “Fairly sure Newt would have realized. Again…”
“Newt? Like, Newt Scamander?” Neville asked, instantly enchanted and staring at Graves in awe.
“Very same,” Graves agreed, nodding at the teen. “The man who exposed that bastard and rescued me with his ridiculous creatures…. My husband.”
That stunned a number of people, but it was quiet Luna that spoke up. “And how is Mr. Newt Graves? The nargels don’t tell me about him very often and I always wonder. I think his next book will be brilliant.”
“You’re a Seer,” Graves said bluntly, startling Harry.
“Sometimes,” Luna said dreamily. “The nargels come and go, but I’ve been known to dream a thing or two.”
“That’s why you’re so weird?” Malfoy asked, awe taking the bite out of his words.
“Well, yes, Dragon,” she said, making her way through the crowd of still standing students to approach the front of the group. “And to be weird is to be interesting and to be interesting is perhaps the best thing, so thank you for the compliment.”
With that, she plopped squarely on Ginny’s lap, causing the teen to flush bright red but still wrap her arms around the blonde’s waist so she didn’t fall.
“I do not miss being a teenager,” the disembodied voice of Theseus said dryly, startling the rest of the gathered students.
“Uncle Theseus, please show yourself,” Harry said with a groan. “I’m still not sure why you’re hiding anyway.”
“Because people are stupid and we don’t want everyone to know we’re here,” Theseus said, still not showing himself. “Besides, the barkeep is keeping a very close eye on the group and I’ve no doubt he’ll be reporting back to someone about this little meeting. Why didn’t we meet somewhere private? There’s a branch of Gringotts in Hogsmeade and the goblins would have gladly loaned a room spelled to the rafters for privacy.”
Harry blinked, then turned to Graves since he couldn’t find where Theseus was standing.
“Don’t look at the Yank. I may be married to a Brit, but I’ve never actually been here before. All our kids went to Illvermory,” he said, causing a few weak chuckles.
“And it’s not a well-known fact,” Zabini offered, speaking for the first time Harry could remember. “The village doesn’t like broadcasting the small branch so they don’t get flooded by tourists more than they already do. The goblins here appreciate the privacy and lack of regular floods of teens.”
“While this is all fascinating,” Hermione said with a huff. Harry could tell she didn’t like not knowing about the bank branch. That no one had thought to tell her. “We still need to discuss the lessons we want to start. V-Voldemort is back and I for one want to be prepared to defend myself if nothing else. And there’s only so much we can learn in short times between Umbridge trying to catch us during the study halls the professors have arranged as cover since the study group was disbanded.”
There were many nods of agreement and so Hermione launched into the abridged version of their plans, Graves chiming in here and there to add some clarification or new ideas. As time wore on and the group got to voice their own opinions about the plans they’d put together, Harry could see which would be the most help and which were here just because of who he was. It was startling to pick up the little cues, minute tells that the people he’d spent the summer with had trained him to spot. Yet he’d never put into practice.
The constant shifting of Marietta Edgecombe told him that she hadn’t wanted to be here, and the thought of breaking rules was uncomfortable to her. The enthusiastic way Malfoy was adding to the list of spells people wanted to learn that weren’t covered by any of their professors before told him that Malfoy was going to end up helping them teach by the end of the year if not the first lesson, despite previous prejudice and his father’s public beliefs. The quiet but watchful gaze of Zacharias Smith told him that the teen would be a calm presence in the chaos, perfect support in a crisis. And so much more made its way to his notebook.
Finally, Hermione cut them off, as the sun was starting to set and the proprietor was eyeing them moodily. They’d kept up a steady stream of orders, but it looked like the man was not pleased to have his pub full of chatty teenagers the majority of the day.
“Now, please write your name on the list, so we can work on organizing an appropriately sized room and pick up one of these coins. The first meeting, we’ll be testing everyone so we can arrange training groups based on skills, not years so we’re all making progress without overwhelming or boring anyone,” she said, gesturing to the expanded purse Arianna had gifted and the pile of fake sickles nestled inside. “We’ll use the coins to communicate times and the location when we get it set, so keep track of it. We decided against galleons as it’s very unlikely some of us would be carrying one around without spending it immediately. The information will only be visible to you, so no need to worry about someone else noticing, but please remember which sickle is the trick one.”
“Yes, please do,” Fred said, smirking.
“Wouldn’t want to spend such,”
“Wonderful use of magic,”
“Accidentally,” the twins finished together.
Hermione just rolled her eyes and nodded.
The group grumbled about cutting off their discussions, but nodded and started to file past their table, jotting their names down as they left. No one even protested the name at the top of the page. Hogwarts’ Army. It made sense and was what the study group had been calling itself since the ban, so they could just say ha and no one would question it. Ha was VERY easy to work into almost any conversation, after all. As the group slowly disbursed, Harry could hear some of them pick up where they left off as soon as they exited and hoped no one was paying too close attention. The privacy spells didn’t extend that far. But Malfoy seemed to realize the same and barked at them as he left. Harry had to suppress a chuckle.
“That went well,” Graves said. “Some smart cookies, here.”
“Huh?” Ron asked.
“Brits,” the man said with an eyeroll. “Turn of phrase, Weasley. Don’t worry about it. But I see Harry noticed a lot of what I did. You took your lessons to heart.”
He gestured to Harry’s notebook and Harry flushed but nodded and handed it over.
“Not too outlandish,” Theseus muttered, obviously reading over Graves’ shoulder. “But don’t worry, kid, we’ll keep an eye on them. And I agree with you about the Malfoy brat. Here’s hoping his parents take to the news well.”
Harry had a sneaking suspicion they would. Arianna had called briefly when everyone was distracted by discussions to advise she was folding the pair into the secret today, after the Wizengamot meeting she’d tell him about later, and that was why she’d sent Theseus and Graves, but that she’d visit soon, for much longer than previously. And she made sure he knew the two Malfoys had taken it better than most. They were still appalled at the injustices and magic used on them, but it sounded like Narcissa especially was grateful for the help. Apparently, there was magic used on them that hit her particularly hard and removed any doubts the woman had of their decision to switch sides. Arianna hadn’t elaborated, but Harry had his suspicions. Suspicions bolstered by his growing familiarity with Malfoy Junior and the blond’s hesitant tales of wanting siblings.
*****
Minerva McGonagall sighed as she settled into her favorite chair in the staff lounge, in her cat form for a bit and enjoying the warmth of the fire after a long day of discretely monitoring the Hogsmeade weekend. She was not particularly surprised Potter and his friends had wandered off the main path frequented by many of the younger years, but she would not follow them. Plausible deniability was her friend at this point.
Though it did not mean she was unaware of the man that joined them on the edge of the village. She may be getting on in years, but she would still recognize Percival Graves. He’d been a bit of a hero to her when news had reached Hogwarts of his kidnapping and subsequent rescue. Newt had babbled about it for weeks when he’d visited to return Dumbledore’s blood oath and check in on the creatures in the Forbidden Forest.
It had taken her only moments to realize the shy but enthusiastic Hufflepuff was smitten.
So to see Graves in Hogsmeade, apparently well known to Potter? With the incident in Diagon Alley with Potter’s memory? And Potter disappearing sometime over the summer from his relatives to seek sanctuary with the goblins? With tales of a new, American lady making waves in the Wizengamot? And speculation running rampant that Gringotts had released their oldest vault to a new Lady? With tales of Theseus Scamander storming the halls of the DMLE to free Sirius? And neither being heard of much outside the Ministry building?
She knew the signs showed that many changes were coming. And it also was only a matter of time before her former student appeared, with his American family in tow.
The wizarding world was outdated, yes. But the one thing they were ahead of the rest of the world on was how quickly rumor and speculation traveled. And rumors had reached her, from Percy Weasley of all people, of mass cleanses and years worth of manipulations discovered. It was only a matter of time before the eyes of whomever was bringing all of this to the shadowed light it existed in now turned to Hogwarts.
She only hoped her suspicions proved false. She had a feeling someone was obliviating her frequently. There was no way she would miss a number of things otherwise. And there were very few that had the ability to in a school overrun by students.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a pink toad entering her little haven. Most professors went immediately to their own rooms after a successful Hogsmeade weekend, exhausted from corralling students away from the more questionable pursuits they always tried to undertake when unsupervised. Minerva had found she got more peace in the staff lounge.
Except now. Now Umbridge was bustling about, humming to herself happily and making a cup of tea. It unnerved Minerva and she had to wonder just what had happened that put the wench in such a good mood.
Then she spotted where Minerva was curled up in the chair.
“And who do you belong to, beautiful?” Umbridge cooed, abandoning her tea in favor of scurrying over to gush over Minerva.
Minerva could only ask herself if this woman was serious…
It was well known she was an Animagus. One of the only ones at Hogwarts. Well, at this point. And it was well known she was a cat. Granted, there were a lot of cats and Kneazles roaming the halls, since the creatures were one of the few allowed familiars now. But her spectacles markers were very evident.
So, Umbridge either must have forgotten or didn’t listen.
As evidenced by her now simpering compliments and the rough hand rubbing over her head, flattening her ears to her head only for them to spring back as she regarded the woman.
“Who’s the prettiest putty tat?” the horrendous woman cood.
And Minerva lost her patience, transforming. The surprised squeak of her name was worth the close proximity.
Minerva stood gracefully, looking down her nose at the still sprawled DADA professor before turning her nose up and making her way to the door. She most definitely didn’t say with all seriousness that she was the prettiest. That would be beneath her maturity.