Friend Since Birth

*****
Adaya touched down with a shaking rattle of the trees around Hogwarts, close enough to the Forbidden Forest to be completely out of sight of all within and yet close enough to the castle to have a fairly short walk to the main doors. It was also close enough that the Whomping Willow’s branches swayed towards her before the tree seemed to realize who, or really what, exactly was so close and swayed away quickly.

Smart tree.

She settled on the ground for a moment, taking a few deep breaths to recover from the unprecedented long flight she’d just taken, before she started to transform partially.

It took her a few minutes to get the right mix of human and dragon to hide her true identity, but then she felt the scales settle just how she wanted.

She waved a hand to conjure a mirror to be sure, but the woman staring back at her was exactly what she wanted. Her hair was softly flickering ruby flames, white horns spouting from the flames exactly where her normal ones were, her eyes a brilliant red, her skin more pearlescent scale than skin, she had large wings spouting from her back, and her tail curled around her leg. She took a few twigs and transfigured a simple dress to cover her nudity.

She was not really surprised she’d shredded the dress she’d been changed into after the Wizengamot meeting. This shift had been even less controlled than the first one and the only clothing that might have survived were her battle robes. Which were far too recognizable at this point.

Appearance sorted, she stormed to the large doors the separated her from her goal.

A quick blast of magic and they crashed open with a thunderous bang, followed quickly by a challenging roar she let loose from her still dragonesque throat.

She could smell the instant fear that flooded from the Great Hall, but she did not pause in her stalking strides to consider just how much she was probably traumatizing some of the younger years. She would honestly prefer she was the reason they were traumatized versus some of the alternatives she knew had happened.

She roared again when she reached the closed doors of the Great Hall, tempted to simply blast them off their great hinges to prove that Dumbledore’s meager protective measure of his students was useless against her. But she would do minimal damage to her school.

The soft thanks from Hogwarts in her mind was enough to make her smile briefly.

Then Hogwarts opened the doors herself, allowing Arianna to storm into the hall and stop between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables to glare murder at the Head table.

The table that she had learned was meant to be by the doors she’d just stormed through. Followed by Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and finally Hufflepuff.

To provide the best defense and ensure the greatest survive.

Professors as the most experienced, Gryffindors as the ones most likely to bravely defend those behind them and access the armory Godric had left behind, hidden in an alcove to to the right of the doors. Slytherins as the ones to be able to strategize with the Ravenclaws and cunning enough to fire around those in front of them. Ravenclaws to strategize with both Slytherin in defense and Hufflepuff in evacuation while also firing around three layers of defenders. Hufflepuffs to defend the escape routes and protect everyone’s backs just in case.

Yet another failure of the Headmaster she could use to disembowel him.

The same Headmaster that was staring at her in curiosity, seated at his spot at the Head Table with an enigmatic smile and every one of the professors around him standing with wands drawn with the exception of her other target. Who, as the professor of the one class that should be teaching students about self-preservation instincts and defence at the brink of a civil war that had been raging on and off for generations should have been the first to her feet, the arrogant and ignorant toad.

She snarled at the man, feeling her wings snap open behind her and her flaming hair flare with her anger. The claws she’d tried to will away earlier were now itching to take a chunk out of this too casual abomination that dared to call himself Headmaster.

“And who might you be? Or perhaps what?” the man asked calmly, his soft voice carrying through the halls.

The pink toad seemed just as curious, if in a more malicious way. Arianna had no doubt the woman was thinking of how she could use someone like her to further the aims of the Ministry. Even as an experiment. Or potions materials.

Before she could snarl a response, however, a blonde haired girl she vaguely recognized from Harry’s letters and stories bounced up to her and curtsied deeply.

She held the position as well and Arianna couldn’t help the curious tilt to her head at the young girl.

“Rise,” she ordered, unwilling to bow back and lose sight of her targets.

“Greetings, Lady Hogwarts,” the girl chirped with a beaming smile.

Arianna noted the silent and knowing smile in the girl’s eyes and she understood immediately.

Hogwarts motto it was, then.

“Greetings, Lady Lovegood,” she greeted back, allowing her voice to keep the multi-toned quality that emphasized her dragon but still managing to stick to English.

It would be no fun if they couldn’t understand the threats she planned to level at them.

“Girl, get away from that creature,” Umbridge hissed at little Luna.

Arianna didn’t miss the slight wince the girl gave, even though she didn’t turn away from Arianna to acknowledge the beast that professed to be a professor. She felt her eyes narrow in suspicion and Luna’s slight twist of her wrist was enough confirmation for her.

She instantly snapped her gaze to the woman who had caused so much hurt and pain and fear. It was only slightly amusing to see that the woman didn’t grasp the danger she was in. While the few professors around her did. Sprout and Sinestra edged away slightly, as if giving her a clear shot if she needed it. She openly grinned at that, making sure to bare her teeth.

“I am Lady Hogwarts,” she roared, finally deigning to answer Dumbledore’s question and allowing her deep rage at him to rattle the hall. Finally, she could put her own pain and the pain of all those he’d let be hurt into tearing strips off the man. “And I have come to see to the injustices you have allowed to happen within these halls.”

That finally caused the elderly man to drop his smile.

“And what exact injustices do you believe have happened within these walls?”

That caused her to snarl. How dare he pretend as if there was nothing to answer for. She felt her magic react to her blind fury and instead of allowing herself to transform back to her full dragon form in order to rip him to shreds with claws longer than some of the children around them were tall, since that would be counterproductive to literally all of her plans, she pushed it to show him, and everyone in the hall, exactly what she meant by injustice.

It was to her mild surprise when the ceiling flashed in a bright white light before it faded to black like a projector pensive. Instead of the dusk that had settled in outside, images flashed across the large space.

Some of them were familiar. Harry battling the Basilisk as a tiny twelve-year old. Severus bullied by the Marauders. Harry being belittled and cursed for being the Heir of Slytherin. Sirius guiltily showing James his bruises after what could only be a trip home when he was in his teens. The unmistakable image of someone being buried alive while a gently smiling Dumbledore snapped their wand, shown through her eyes. Hermione crying in a girl’s bathroom after Ron’s insensitive comments. Dumbledore ordering Hufflepuff and Slytherin houses to the dungeons when there was a reported troll there and the uneasy looks exchanged. Myrtle dying with no real investigation and no one asking her how she died when her ghost finally appeared. Hagrid being expelled. Newt being expelled. How the students treated Filch. How Filch treated the students. McGonagall ignoring three first years trying desperately to tell her Nicolas Flamel’s life’s work was in danger. Sirius Black slashing the Fat Lady’s portrait. Each and every task from that terrible tournament last year, including the smashing of eggs that had her instincts flairing in outrage. And brief glimpses of dozens of other images.

Then there were the ones she suspected but hadn’t been able to confirm. Snape bullying who she assumed from Harry’s stories was Neville Longbottom. Dozens of students banding together to combat the deep depression brought on by Dementors stationed at the school for a year. This small boy crying as he nursed a bruised wrist on the first night, after he’d stood strong through the welcome feast and his sorting into Slytherin. A small girl with a bruised cheek crying in Hufflepuff. Image after image of obviously abused children suffering in silence because there was no hope for them. No professor asking if they were alright. Besides Severus. There were a few of Severus taking students to Pomphrey only to be shuffled away with bruise cream and no deep scans. No follow-up. Images of Drumstrang students casting curses at small Ravenclaws for studying quietly. Slytherins cursing Gryffindors. Gryffindors ganging up on Slytherins. Professors ignoring reports of abuse. Of bullying. Professors ignoring reports of how Harry was treated last year.

Images of Harry’s panic attacks this year, when one too many people told him he should be dead instead of Cedric. The few students that tried to commit suicide instead of having to deal with the bullying anymore. Or the thought of having to go home.

It was over in less than fifteen minutes. Silence reigned and more than half the student population was hanging their heads in shame or fear having their secrets exposed like that. But no one had looked away.

And Arianna had glared at Dumbledore the entire time, Hogwarts projecting the images in her mind so she would be aware.

With a push to the castle, she knew Hogwarts was making a list for her of every scene, who was involved, and if it was resolved eventually.

She was not surprised that Dumbledore didn’t seem surprised by any of it.

But she snarled when Umbridge seemed almost pleased.

Then the ceiling flickered again, several students tensing in dread, before it froze at a dozen images of students sat in Umbridge’s office, the same black quill in their hands and the angle enough that they could see both the words etched into each hand and the maniacal gleam in her face.

Arianna let lose another roar of rage.

*****
Harry sat frozen in his seat, neck starting to twinge from the angle his head was tilted back. He wanted to look away, to flush in embarrassment at the images he’d recognized. To berate his sister for exposing secrets he wasn’t sure he wanted exposed. Especially since he knew they had enemies in the room. To rage at the world that allowed Dumbledore the power to make her disappear from his life. It had not escaped his attention the one brief scene of her burial while still breathing. And there were a number of other images that had caused him concern, most notably the few young people he saw attacked for their house or the bruises he was far too familiar with.

It was an intense conglomeration of horrible truths. Most of which a quick glance around the room at those involved would confirm were well hidden truths that probably never would have come to light without a massive amount of instinctive magic and a tattle-taling castle.

But he couldn’t tear his gaze away from one corner of the enchanted ceiling turned pensive. Couldn’t look away from the frozen image of two redheads flinching in unison while Umbridge seemed gleeful.

The roar from his dragonesque sister almost directly behind him barely caused a twitch.

The small noises around him slowly filtered away and Harry barely registered the gentle squeeze from Luna before he snapped his head away from the image forcefully, eyes unerringly seeking a pair of faces he’d give his life for in seconds. A pair that were starting to ask much more of him.

He’d never been necessarily suicidal.

But he’d never really cared if he died. It’s why he was often so careless in his flying and the many ‘adventures’ Ron, Hermione, and he had undertaken.

These two were making him want to live for them, though.

It was a much harder mindset to change, he was finding.

But in this moment, they caused a new sensation, with their pale faces and somewhat guilty expressions. Even as they seemed angry for the similar scars they now knew he held.

The switch to be willing to kill for them was much easier.

He was out of his seat and half-way towards the still smugly grinning abomination before anyone could react.

Or so he thought as he felt a heavy weight catch his hips and an even heavier weight settling on the small of his back to keep him pinned to the cold stone below him even as he struggled.

*****
It was moments like this that Arianna was somewhat grateful Harry often forgot he was a bloody wizard…

She easily disarmed the brat, settling herself into a comfortable half-crouch, half-seat on her little brother’s back, ignoring the vicious snarls and frantic struggling to get to the woman who had only scoffed at the boy. Arianna truly wanted to allow her brother to prove just how much danger the woman was actually in, but she couldn’t allow Harry to kill her. It would not fit into her plans. Well, not her current plans.

That she hadn’t killed the bitch herself was a testament to something.

It definitely wasn’t her control, but something.

“Hush,” she murmured soothingly, allowing herself to slip into Parsel so as to cause the most unease. “Calm, hatchling.”

Harry ignored her and she smiled sadly.

She could understand, honestly. If that was Charlie projected on a part of the large, high, ceiling, she would not hesitate to bloody her claws.

“Do you deny it?” she asked, finally turning her attention to the Head table again.

It made her rumble in pleasure to see that a number of the professors had lowered their wands, staring in horror at the ceiling. Only two still had them raised. But neither was aimed at her anymore.

McGonagall had hers pressed to Dumbledore’s nose, the elderly man nearly cross-eyed in an attempt to keep it in sight. She was almost spitting in rage, causing more than one of her fellow professors to back away slowly. Even the students seated closest to the normally safe table full of professors sensed the danger and were slowly inching their ways farther from the enraged Transfiguration professor.

The second wand was no small surprise. Severus, pale and shaking in anger and disgust, had his eyes on Umbridge. He was stationed behind the still smug woman, silent in his threat and Arianna idly wondered just when he’d returned to the castle and whether he knew the preparations Sirius was no doubt executing at this very moment.

“Peace, Deputy Headmistress,” she rumbled, when it looked like McGonagall wasn’t going to allow Dumbledore to twitch let alone speak.

“I will give you peace when you explain, Albus, how all of this was allowed to happen,” she snarled. “And do not even attempt to try to tell me those images are faked. Or that you would defend that wench.”

The sharply jabbed finger left no room for debate on who she meant and Arianna took a moment to revel in the realization everyone was slowly coming to. Many forgot that Minerva McGonagall was an ex-Auror that had taken up the Transfiguration professor spot only after a rather illustrious career. Oh, it was never debated that she was a stern task mistress that suffered few fools and even fewer pranks perpetrated on her specific person. But few considered just how deadly she was when provoked.

Her own father and godfather had learned that the hard way when one of their pranks had gone too far near a few first years and had actually resulted in blood.

That had ended with both of them a mix of terrified and full of respect for the woman. And a new rule for the Marauders that saved anyone younger than them from all but the most harmless of pranks. And only then when the prank itself was meant to be school wide. Sirius had grumbled profusely when Remus had told the tale.

To see her now turning that terrifying anger on her own target tempered not a little of Arianna’s own fury. She was not alone. And was not going to lose everyone she held dear to stop the manipulator.

“He will not answer,” she finally spoke. “But I will.”

She didn’t dare stand, not with Harry still struggling mightily below her, but she waved her hand, glad her skills with wandless magic were so strong. They helped sell the idea that she was the protector of Hogwarts.

“There are many charges that can be pressed against this false caretaker of Hogwarts and the filth he dared to employ here at the will of another. Enough that Hogwarts has woken to protect hers,” she boomed, allowing the spell to carry her voice beyond the hall, to the corners of the large castle. She would not allow anyone to be forgotten in the corners and hidey-holes of Hogwarts for this. “House Elves of Hogwarts, please deliver all persons and creatures within these walls to the Great Hall, by order of Lady Hogwarts.”

She silently hoped Uncle Regulus was either out of the elves’ senses or Dobby got her silent message to deliver him to the antechamber behind the professors’ table, so he could still be within the Great Hall but out of sight.

Not ten seconds later, there were a number of pops as the elves did as ordered by the only one able to override any orders from the Headmaster. A Headmaster that she would see removed momentarily. Several students blinked blearily at the room, startled by the sudden move from their warm beds but not yet awake enough to understand what had happened beyond that. A few were hurriedly righting clothing, faces crimson in embarrassment. But it was the tiny form of a little girl that had her snarling. She was still sniffling, arm held stiffly to her chest even as she brandished her wand in defense, eyes darting to Umbridge warily.

Pomphrey seemed to understand immediately and was at the little girl’s side in a moment, casting a quick diagnostic spell even as she soothed the girl until she lowered her trembling wand.

“I do not know who you are, young witch, but you have no authority here,” Dumbledore spoke softly, seeming to ignore the wand McGonagall had only eased back slightly. “You cannot order the elves of Hogwarts to do anything nor throw such accusations out without proof.”

“No authority? If I had no authority, they would not have followed instructions,” she snarled, studying him for only a moment before she simply sliced her palm with a claw. When blood had seeped from the wound enough for a small pool to form in the cup she made of her hand, she slammed it against the stones below her.

“I, Lady Hogwarts, do reclaim the wards of Hogwarts Castle, Grounds, and the protected Village of Hogsmeade from an incompetent Headmaster,” she intoned, not breaking eye contact with the man but keeping her Occlumency shields up and strong.

No need to let him know she’d done the most important part of the ritual already and this was the final step that would drop her previous alteration that allowed him to think the wards were still his.

It wouldn’t have worked if she didn’t hold the proxy for Harry.

But Harry seemed to have gained enough of his mind to realize what she was doing. And he wanted to give his own dig. He reached back and grabbed her other hand tightly, slicing his own palm. He didn’t try to get up, though.

When the blood had pooled, he slammed his own palm against the same stone, glaring up at the table even as he shouted his own oath.

“I, Lord Slytherin, do claim the wards of Hogwarts Castle, Grounds, and the protected Village of Hogsmeade, to share responsibility with Lady Hogwarts and in accordance with the wishes of the Founders. To protect the students.”

The hall rang silent again, many students stopping their hissed conversations and speculations to stare at them in shock.

She didn’t say another word, letting the swirls of magic speak for them both. There was always the chance that this bit would expose her as something more than a powerful bit of magic left over by the Founders, since those rarely needed this level of interaction with protective magic and could rarely do what she’d just done, but she was trusting the urging from Merlin that this magic was old and almost forgotten. Wards like Hogwarts’ were an almost lost art so the transfer of power was too obscure to be recognized anymore. But it was very obvious what the effects were.

The blood evaporated as soon as Harry was done speaking, bursting into golden strands as they erupted from the pair of them. They twisted through the hall, before darting out the doors and windows to twine around the ward scheme outside. Only the ceiling shifting from the still images to follow the strands showed the full picture to those not intimately connected to the process occurring as the wards linked themselves to new holders, to the rightful holders for the first time in hundreds of years.

Where once there was a dark sky, a golden globe around the school bloomed into existence. The same globe she’d seen all those months ago when she’d crossed the school boundaries after claiming her inheritances. Yet now it seemed to be how it was meant to exist. Instead of the ratty mess it had been, with holes large enough for trolls to wander in, now it was a glittery golden sphere, unbroken and slowly expanding as it drew magic from the foundations of the building, and the renewed ward stones she’d spent weeks repairing and recharging in between bouts in the Room of Hidden Things.

There were a few thin strands that glittered around Dumbledore, illustrating who everyone believed to hold control of the wards, but as the sphere expanded, they snapped, causing the man to pale. Then golden ropes snapped around her instead, darkening as she allowed her control to slip just enough. A few even wove themselves around the teen she still sat on, wrapping tightly around his wrists.

When the sphere was done expanding, all of Hogwarts, the Forbidden Forest, and the entire, expanded village of Hogsmeade were included, past the original boundaries and including far more land than the wards had ever seen before. And yet there was no strain on her or her brother’s magic.

It was no wonder, really. The wards were strengthened by a thousand years of every bit of magic cast in Hogwarts, every overpowered charm, every miscast spell, every success and failure of magic within the stones around them. Added to by the small gift of magic given freely by every magical creature that called the forest home and every magical that resided in Hogsmeade, even if the price of protection was long forgotten and that protection had been sacrificed in favor of keeping the school as protected as possible with such horrible restrictions on its original protocols. The holder didn’t need to be powerful to hold the wards. Only have the students’ best interests at heart. If Dumbledore had, she never would have been able to take them away fully, never been able to reclaim the areas he’d allowed to wither away from the wards, never been able to fix what he’d very obviously and knowingly broken. Even with the crimes he was guilty of. Not without significant effort and even then only by being the Heir or Lady.

The wards had almost gleefully fled from him, which was enough proof for her, even if she didn’t have dozens of pages of suspicions.

Harry outing himself as Lord Slytherin was perhaps not in the plans, though…