Stop Digging
*****
Harry didn’t even flinch as the wards finally settled on Ari and him. As much as he wanted to allow his sister to do what she needed without interference, he was done sitting back and letting others dictate his life and threaten those he cared about without consequences. He may have hated the slurs and taunting he’d endured in second year about being the Heir, but the truth was, he was almost proud to be able to shove it back that, no, he wasn’t the Heir. He was the Lord. As much as he hated the number of Lordships he held, he’d be cursed if he allowed anyone to disrespect the houses he held and he may even be able to reserect the honor in some of them.
His public claiming of what many viewed as the darkest Hogwarts house may or may not have also been a petty dig at all the purebloods he knew sneered at him for his mum.
And the political power he wielded with just that one House could be put to use protecting his people more effectively than any spell. Reputation was everything to some, and he’d just claimed the one House that would demand grudging respect no matter the opinion one held of light and dark. He only hoped he wielded it as well as Ari did her own. Between the two of them, they would make sure things changed for the better.
“Harry, my boy?” Dumbledore asked, already trying to turn his ‘grandfatherly’ charms on him. But Harry was done.
“I am not your boy!” he shouted, immediately disregarding the idea of maintaining a respectable image now that he was a confirmed Lord and redoubling his struggles to get out from under his sister. He was too angry to do that and it would be hard anyway sprawled on the floor of the Great Hall with someone sitting on him. He wondered briefly if she’d kept some of her dragon weight in this form because there was no other way he was unable to get her off after all this time. Then he turned back to the bastard that had manipulated and gaslighted him for years. “I am not your fucking anything! I’m not your pawn, not your whipping boy, not your bloody Boy Who Lived or Chosen One. I was a fucking child! I deserved to be a child. Not some hero of a war long over. Not the legend I became for something I barely remember and cost me my family! Not a slave like my ‘loving’ relatives made me every bloody day and every bloody summer after I started here. And I don’t just mean that as a curse, you wanker. I am not your pawn to manipulate and guilt into doing things for you! I deserve more than to be lied to constantly. It took the bloody goblins, beings with a justified hatred of any magical of any age, basically teaching me from scratch for me to understand just how much you have fucked with my life, old man!”
Harry could tell Arianna was trying very hard not to smirk, even as she ran a soothing hand down his spin, offering soft murmurs in parseltongue. He could feel it through their bond, strong enough in his anger for him to actually sense her pride and amusement.
“I am a lord more than twice over and knew about none of them, you bloody bastard. And I would have taken up the titles in two years without any knowledge of them or how to utilize them. Explain to me exactly how you were planning to tell me that not only was I allowed to take the Potter title upon my thirteenth birthday but that you have been voting in my stead without so much as asking me my opinion!? How many others have you manipulated like this? How many votes do you hold that others know nothing about?”
He knew the moment Dumbledore registered his words. His admission of multiple titles. But he was so furious he didn’t care.
“Explain to me how you allowed that Ministry spy to torture anyone, let alone Lords?!” he snarled, twisting enough that everyone could see the back of his hand, the hand he’d just sliced to take on part of the wards and prove he wasn’t the child he once desperately wished to be. The hand that bore the scars of endless lines of the same words.
I must not tell lies gleamed in the firelight, seemingly brighter in the silent room and obviously still somewhat fresh by the thin line of renewed bleeding trickling down his arm.
“Explain to me how you allowed her to touch anyone with the intent to hurt?!” he screamed.
“I will not be accused of such lies, Mr. Potter,” said bitch said with a sneer. “I do believe more detentions will help.”
“Shut up!” he roared. “You assured me I was alone in your torture. That I was the only one that warranted your blasted quill. And then you touched what is mine!”
He barely registered Ari’s hand moving towards him. It wasn’t until it covered his eyes and she cooed softly at him that he realized what she was doing.
Then he felt the stunner hit and blackness engulfed him.
*****
Arianna thrummed gently as she eased off her silently stunned brother, the sound rumbling through her more dragonesque lungs easily and echoing in the still silent room. Getting off him was proving a bit more of a challenge than stunning him wandlessly and wordlessly, her wings and the tail she’d kept making her movements awkward. The dress really didn’t help, either, but she figured it only added to the illusion that she really was a dragon in an uncomfortable and unknown form. And she really didn’t want to hurt her clutchmate by accidentally scratching him or something. So she took her time and ignored the indignant squawking of a few people.
When she had finally managed it, she then proceeded to gently pick him up, mindful of the area she’d crouched on him. It has been instinct to pin him, to keep him from killing the pink toad and the meddler, but she would not regret stopping him. Would not regret keeping him from murder again. It was bad enough that he’d already been forced to commit such a horrible act before, though the exact number depended on how you defined murder.
Still, she felt the dull ache of bruises forming through their sibling bond. She was sure it was most likely permanent at this point if what the goblin healers had said all those months ago was true. She should have asked before telling the healers to leave it, or arranged to have it removed soon after. But she hadn’t wanted to give up the connection that thrummed constantly, reassuring her that this was not a dream, that she wasn’t alone anymore, that he was really back. She should have felt the cuts on his hand and she planned on pinning him down until he told her how he’d hidden it. Then she’d get an oath from him that he wouldn’t do that again. Regardless, the bond reassured her.
She did feel a bit bad for sitting on him, though. He was surprisingly strong and wriggly, something her dragon instincts approved of wholeheartedly. Good, powerful clutchmate willing to take on threats to the thunder alone.
And those twins definitely fell within that category.
She had not missed the image of them, wincing in tandem at the pain in their own hands. She wondered vaguely what their words said.
But her clutchmate would never be alone in his defence of their thunder. He may be young, but he was just as powerful as her. He just didn’t have the experience and practice she did. The fact that she’d had to sit on him to stop him proved he would be a force when he was fully grown and earning his horns.
She shook herself slightly to focus back on the situation, pushing her dragon mind back a bit. Harry didn’t have horns to earn. May never have them. If she focused, she could tell he didn’t smell of dragon. More dust and hunter. It was an odd combination, she would grant, but she couldn’t place what he would be. Just not dragon.
Didn’t make him any less thunder and worthy clutchmate.
When she could cradle Harry to her gently, she searched the hall for aforementioned twins she’d heard sneak in earlier. She allowed herself to close her eyes and obviously sniff them out. No point in making it obvious she already knew them. She was Lady Hogwarts, after all. It tickled a little when she got a good whiff. Still that fire and ozone scent, though she couldn’t pinpoint if it was a shared scent or unique to one or the other and just mingled. After only a moment of latching on to the familiar scent, though, she could tell they spent a good deal of time around Harry. The unique scent that was Harry mingled with their shared scent. When she followed the trail and found the origin of their scents, she opened her eyes and unerringly found them seated at the far end of the Gryffindor table. She easily carried Harry over to them, uncaring that the students around them backed away quickly.
“Milady,” they chorused, standing quickly. They gave very precise bows, arm clasped over their heart and other arm tight to their sides.
She only nodded to them.
“Will his soulmates stand guard for him?” she asked, unwilling to use her normal nickname for them but wanting it very obvious that they belonged at his sides. They may not be obvious about it, but the knowledge that they were soulmates would be the least damaging secret to reveal. And it would prevent anyone arguing why she’d handed him over so easily when she was so obviously protective.
“Yes,” they said as one, instantly reaching out for Harry.
She eased him into Fred’s arms, shuffling away so he could ease back to his seat and cradle Harry close to him but keep an arm free to wield his wand easily. George instantly took up position next to him, facing opposite his twin so he could watch their back. Within seconds and without need of an invitation, Ron was standing shoulder to shoulder with George, wand also raised and eyes wary as he scanned the room.
“Perhaps you’ll allow me to examine him?” Dumbledore had the nerve to offer, calling across the room like he wasn’t in danger. Though, he was smart enough to stay behind the table even as he stood to move quickly should he be allowed.
“Silence!” she roared, turning to him and flaring her wings, her tail lashing behind her in agitation but far from anyone. Once he’d settled back into his chair, she snarled again before taking a deep breath. She could not kill him. She could not kill him… “It will be over my dead carcass and after my flames have been doused before you are allowed to touch another,” she hissed.
“I would never harm a student,” he denied.
She ignored him in favor of watching Ginny slowly make her way over, caution in every line of her young body.
“Milady,” George offered softly after Ginny finally joined them and gave her brother a speaking look. “This is our younger sister Ginny. She’d like to guard Harry as well.”
After a minute studying the redhead, Arianna thrummed in happiness, nodding to the only daughter of House Weasley in generations. It did not miss her attention that Ginny seemed beyond grateful as soon as it was obvious she had permission to join the informal guard being built around the unconscious teen. Since they’d added Ginny, Percy, and Hermione to the secrets they shared, Arianna had often been confused by the girl. She was wary around most of them, guilty half the time for no reason, and didn’t seem all too keen on many of their plans. She agreed that things needed to change but seemed uncomfortable with how they spoke of certain things. Arianna had had her doubts about the girl, but her brothers were adamant that she wanted to be included. One day, Arianna would have to push to figure out why exactly the girl was so very cautious around her, to find out the secret Ginny kept that scared her so.
To see her willingly stepping up to defend Harry in the Great Hall with Dumbledore right there seemed to be a good sign that they hadn’t made a mistake with her.
“Would you please explain why the brat needs a guard at all?” Umbitch asked, a sneer audible in her tone.
Arianna took a moment to breathe deeply, eyes closed. Her twitching tail was the only indication of her ire at this point.
When she opened them, she was pleased to see Ginny standing shoulder to shoulder with her brothers, wand raised as well and a glare fixed on the Head table.
Good.
*****
Regulus waved the newest elf away, careful not to move his wand in any way at the same time. Hogwarts was doing her best to keep the little creatures away and he had the strong suspicion that something important was going on that warranted the many, many, many attempts they’d undertaken to pop him off somewhere. But they also seemed to listen to him when he politely declined to allow them to disturb him.
Finally, Hogwarts erected a protective bubble around him, allowing him to continue his delicate dismantling of the last few layers of wards without disturbance. He wasn’t entirely sure how she’d done it. It seemed Hogwarts would always have her secrets and the gentle humming laughter confirmed that. Either way, he was grateful they’d stopped tugging on his sleeves and almost causing disaster in their eagerness to obey orders.
Though, he didn’t miss the small circle of elves now surrounding him.
Finally, the last of the wards fell and he slumped in relief. That had taken far too long. He’d need to bully Severus into giving him a foot massage later. The baby was far too big and heavy for him to be on his feet this long anymore and he hadn’t exactly been off of them much before he got distracted by the heavily warded door.
If he got out of this little venture without being confined to bedrest, he’d be impressed. He’d also wonder who exactly had managed to slip Severus a potion that completely overrode the man’s obsessive need to keep him safe and off his feet constantly at this point in his pregnancy. But semantics.
“Now, let’s see what you were trying to hide, old man,” he muttered as he pushed the spell free door opened finally.
*****
Arthur Weasley rushed through Hogsmeade and towards the gate to Hogwarts, quite a number of the villagers behind him. There’s been a number of raging snarls coming from the castle in the short time since he’d arrived in the village and before he’d gotten the chance to inform anyone at the school that he was there to see his children. And Arthur was not unaware of what exactly could make those kinds of noises. He knew like he knew his son Charlie would never be happy without some access and interaction with the beasts. Like he knew when Charlie was only four and proudly proclaimed his dream profession when he was older that it was not a phase. Like he knew that Charlie would talk for hours about them without tiring and without an active audience. Like he knew he’d listen to his son ramble and ask questions so he could encourage the passion he saw there, when his wife often did the opposite for all of their children’s dreams.
That was a dragon. And it was furious.
And he doubted the staff would be able to contain it alone. Even if they all managed to hit it with a suitably powerful stunner. After all, even a small one took six to seven of the things and dragons rarely stood still to allow a stunner to hit their thick hides.
“I thought they took the dragons back to the reserve after the Tournament,” Rosmerta panted as she bustled along beside him. He knew a number of shop keepers were following them, including for some reason the proprietor of the Hog’s Head. They were concerned and the glowing wards suddenly appearing didn’t sooth anyone’s fears.
“They did,” he panted.
“Well, they missed one,” someone muttered gruffly.
*****
Fred tensed as he realized the enormity of the storm brewing. He also realized just how many people mistook him as the dangerous twin. He took the title gladly, allowing his usually fiery temper to distract attention from George, but he was also well aware that his twin was in fact the one to keep an eye on when angry. Fred knew he was volatile when angry. He was loud and reacted instantly when someone managed to get under the façade they put up. But George was another cauldron all together. George was quieter. Sure, they could play each other well. They’d only been doing it their whole lives when it became very obvious few would take the time to learn to tell them apart, but Fred would be the first to admit that he struggled to play George when he was truly furious.
George was not just quiet. He was deadly quiet. When he was this quiet, it was never a good idea to be the cause of it. Fred was fire and noise. George was lightning and silence.
When the thunder of his anger sounded, it was often too late. And it was never pretty. Fred was volatile. George was vindictive.
And George was currently looking at Umbitch with a thunderous expression.
Fred knew in his bones and their bond that the only reason George hadn’t gone after the pink toad when he saw the images on the ceiling, saw the scar on Harry’s hand, was that Arianna was between them. The only reason he wasn’t now, even with Arianna between them, was because he needed to guard Harry.
Fred wasn’t entirely sure what they were guarding Harry from right at this moment, but would gladly have his siblings surrounding him and allowing him to focus on Harry alone.
His soulmate was sound asleep, head resting on his shoulder and emitting small puffs of air against his collar bone. His messy hair was tickling his ear and Fred tried not to squirm at the sensation. It would not be a good day when Harry realized he was ticklish…
But then a thought had all blood rushing from his face and he turned to George quickly.
George twitched with the force of the thought Fred shoved at him.
Arianna was focused on Umbitch for the most part and in a deadly quiet voice currently taking her to task for using a blood quill on students and endangering the lives of everyone in the castle for her teaching techniques.
She wasn’t going after Dumbledore as much, though there was no hiding the violent distain and promise of his own tongue lashing when she was done verbally eviscerating the toad.
Fred knew how protective she was of Harry. Gods, she’d apparated through two of the most powerfully warded places in the country to get to him when he almost died. She’d only grown more so since she’d gotten to know him again.
And add in Adaya’s instincts? Fred could only imagine those were even worse and had to be in full swing with her half form at the moment.
Which could only mean she didn’t know that Dumbledore had obliviated Harry. Of what they still didn’t know, but he couldn’t imagine was anything good.
When he was doing shoving his realization at his brother, he turned back to watching all around them, wand out and ready for any possible attack. He didn’t miss the way his brother paled even as he grinned wickedly. Fred didn’t truly think the other students would attack, but he also knew many were under enormous pressure by family to follow Voldyshorts now that he was back. Survival instincts were a powerful thing.
He also didn’t miss the way members of the HA started making their way towards them anyway, obviously conscious of the building tension and the suddenly worried and practically marble tension the pair of notoriously lighthearted pranksters had become.
The fact that Ginny was on guard as well, wand already drawn and eyes scanning their surroundings with a familiar wariness didn’t help. Ginny was a force to be reconded with all on her own, as all of her brothers had learned the hard way at multiple points in her life. Before she’d gotten her wand, it was hard to get mad when she turned them colors or punched before she thought. She was just too cute and the accidental magic was rarely truly harmful. But she didn’t roll over for her brothers to tease either. And she’d proven it time and again when she’d been tiny. She may be the youngest, but the battle magic affinity hadn’t really surprised Fred. After she’d gotten her wand, though? She’d turned terrifying. And she was showing that right now, glaring at anyone who even seemed to be thinking of shifting their way with an inkling of ill intent.
It was telling that she didn’t react when Neville didn’t even hesitate to join Ron by their side, wand also drawn and a confidence the majority of the school had never seen strengthening his stance. Fred was a bit proud of that. Neville was wicked in their training sessions and his ideas of attack plants were perhaps more than a little terrifying. The Twins fully supported that inclination and provided all sorts of ideas for things that would go boom. After all, even a failed experiment with their candies were a success at something else. And most of the explosions hadn’t been during the fireworks tests but the wrong plant added to the wrong potion.
The Herbology genius had gleefully soaked up any and all insights they had for the best way to use his passion.
But what had impressed them all the most was finding the normally shy boy snuggled into the crook of the Wheeping Willow with a blanket and a book, unconcerned of the whip thin branches swaying in the wind around them. That had gained Neville more than a few horrified and awed looks and led to very view wanting him as a sparring partner in their lessons. Harry may or may not have looked for spells the boy could use that aided his obsession.
So, Fred would definitely take his support when the truth came out.
And he was going to make sure it did.
“Milady?” he called softly, halting her diatribe and gaining the attention of everyone around them.
*****
Adaya/Arianna paused for breath as she methodically worked through the various ways to call Umbitch an idiot without actually using the words. She knew she should really just throw the woman out and sic her goblin soliciters on her, but it felt good to rant. Not as good as sinking claws into peutrid flesh, but she wasn’t allowed to do that. And it would be scaring for those around her.
Perhaps one day, she could.
But Fred’s quiet call diverted her attention.
“Yes, Guardian?” she asked, gifting him the title he deserved.
“There’s something you need to know,” Fred started, only to drop silent before he continued.
She tore her gaze away from the woman to give him her full attention, assuming he was waiting for it before telling her.
Only to see him pale and trying to speak, only to have no sound come out.
She narrowed her eyes at him, confused for only a moment before she realized what had happened.
It was an instant after someone else had come to the same conclusion.