Chapter 26
I've Fallen off my Chair, Brian
Harry was sitting in Dumbledore's office, his feet propped up on the man's desk as he sat in the guest seat and smirked in that "you are so far up the creek without a paddle you're about to go over the freaking waterfall" kind of way as he watched old Dumbles getting verbally lashed into by Amelia Bones. The day was markedly improving from the events of several hours previous, and it was certainly lucky that no harm had come to either the Beauxbatons' champion or her little sister, otherwise Dumbledore would already be in a holding cell at the Ministry for his gross negligence.
"I assure you, Madam Bones, I had no idea-"
"Bullshite!" Amelia snapped. "You should have damn well made it your job to check what ramifications each task would have on the champions! It should have been plainly obvious that a girl of Veela heritage would already have an unfair disadvantage in a water-based event, to say the least of the fact that water and fire beings have a well-known feud.
"I'm up to my neck in work as it is without you adding even more to the list, and much of what I already have to deal with I am fairly sure you had something to do with. I warn you, Dumbledore, one more 'incident' like this will see me hauling you to the holding cells."
"Madam Bones, if I may?" Harry interjected and Amelia nodded for him to go ahead. "Headmaster Dumbledore, I must add my own two knuts to the conversation. If, as Madam Bones has already stated, another occurrence of this nature should arise, I would have no choice but to see you removed as headmaster of this school."
"But, Harry, you can't do that!" Dumbledore exclaimed.
Harry shot him with a piercing glare.
"I think you'll find that, as the legitimate owner of this school, I am well within my rights to remove someone I see as a danger to the students. You have already shown, time and again, that you do not keep the well-being of the children in your care as a priority. If I may be perfectly honest, the only reason why I haven't booted you out yet is because I know there are still those people out there who are foolish enough to still have trust in you and will likely do what they can to keep you from being convicted. I warn you now, though, that if something like this happens again then I will use whatever method I have to in order to ensure you are no longer a danger to either the students of Hogwarts or the public at large."
Harry stood up from his seat.
"Good day, Madam Bones." He then turned to glare at Dumbledore. "I give you no such good wishes, Headmaster."
With that, he departed to rejoin his friends at dinner.
Harry had already told the others to go in while he and Amelia had their "talk" with Dumbledore. The group of friends had just entered the Great Hall to wait for their unofficial leader, when Gregory Goyle approached the entourage, looking more serious and thoughtful than anyone had ever seen him. He stopped in front of Tracey and gave a polite and respectful bow.
"Miss Davis," he greeted in as dignified a voice as someone of his mental capabilities was able, "as I am sure you are aware, my family has received a betrothal offer from yours. However, I must regretfully decline the generous offer and I have already informed my parents that I shall not agree to any such contract as I have already found a more suitable prospect. I wish you all the best and intend no slight to you or the House of Davis. Good day." He gave a final bow and then retreated to Slytherin table, taking his place between Millicent Bulstrode and Vincent Crabbe.
"Wow, I don't think I've ever heard either of Malfoy's former bookends say so much in one sitting," Daphne said.
Tracey's face had broken into a wide grin. As soon as Harry walked through the doors, Tracey pounced on him, pulling him into a strong hug.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Um, you're welcome?" Harry said, not realizing what had just happened.
Meanwhile, deep in the bowels of the Ministry of Death, Shirley was standing in front of a large, ethereal blue substance that floated in a large taper from floor to a ceiling that was so high it could not be seen. In her hands, she held two crystal-like objects that closely resembled a set of thin knitting needles. The blue substance was known as the Tapestry of Fate and it possessed within it the very nature of time and space. The objects in Shirley's hands were the Time-Weavers, a set of instruments used by the Fates to determine the progression of human events.
"Let's see, how does this go again?" Shirley thought aloud. "Was it right, purl two, insert the weft through the…damn it, now I know why Mum said learning to knit was an important unlife skill."
"Need some help?" said three, monotone voices.
Shirley whipped around to see three very familiar female figures.
"Oh, hi, Clo, Sis, Attie, how are you doing?" Shirley said sheepishly. "I was just-"
"We know," said Clotho.
"We know everything," Lachesis added.
"We also know that if you move that next strand of the Tapestry then you will unleash a horrific plague of nightmarish proportions upon the Earth," Atropos concluded.
Shirley looked at the Time-Weavers as if they were a bomb about to go off. Suddenly, Atropos shoved Shirley out of the way and snatched back the Time-Weavers.
"For an angel of the MoD you really can be quite thick, you know that, right?" said Clotho.
"We know the Potter youth isn't making much progress with his future wives," said Lachesis.
"And if you had simply asked for our help, we would not have been averse to assisting you," said Atropos. "Kindly remember that we know everything that is, was, might be, should be, can be, and will be. Now get out of our Tapestry Room!"
Shirley hightailed it out of there as fast as she could.
"Heh, MoD agents," Clotho scoffed. "No matter how many times you tell them you can do your job, they have to get everything done their way."
"At least they did right with young Mr. Potter," said Lachesis. "But they should know that we've got everything under control now."
"Shall we pick up where Shirley was going to badly fail?" said Atropos.
"I think so," said Clotho. "The horrific plague can wait a few more millennia."
Together, the three infamous sisters of Fate set to work. Ordinarily, they just tried to let the universe work itself out and leave humans to their free will. Despite their name, the sisters preferred to leave Fate open to possibilities, lest they become liable for all the horrific things that befell humanity. Hey, it wasn't their fault that there were deranged psychos like Voldemort and Grindelwald who launched genocides against otherwise peaceful groups of people. That was just humans screwing themselves over because of their own prejudices and lack of compassion.
While the Fates often had a reputation for disregarding the feelings of others and were regarded in much the same light as Dumbledore as being manipulative, they were simply keepers of destiny and had little to no actual ability to influence events. At least they had enough free rein to do things like help Mr. Potter with his 'wives' situation.
Arthur Weasley rose from his seat to answer a knock at the door. He'd been mulling over the events of the past few months and was wondering just what he should do. His wife, a woman he'd been with for years, had been using him and had been ready to exploit Harry Potter just for the sake of money. He remembered going to the trial and seeing her in the interrogation chair; it was like he was seeing her for the first time for what she truly was, and it made his stomach turn. Molly had been the reason why he had stood up Abigail Marten back at Hogwarts when he had been mustering up the courage for ages to finally ask the pretty Muggle-born girl out. At the time, Arthur had simply thought it was his teenage hormones messing him up, but now that he knew the truth it was crushing that a possible happy relationship had been denied him because Love Potion Molly wanted things her own way.
The knocking became slightly more insistent.
"I'm coming," Arthur called out. With a somber sigh, he opened the door.
"Hello, Arthur."
Arthur was taken aback for a moment as he took in the sight of the woman standing at his front door. She was just a few inches shorter than he, with long, light brown hair and dark blue eyes. Her soft, round features, though clearly marked by the effects of middle age were warm and kind. It took him a moment, but he quickly recognized her.
"Abigail?" he replied. What a stroke of coincidence as he had just been thinking about her. If this were a story, Arthur thought, it would have been incredibly plot-convenient.
"I'm afraid I don't have much time to chat, but I wanted to drop by and say 'hello' to an old school friend who I will soon be working with at the Ministry," Abigail said.
"At the Ministry? Working together?" Arthur fumbled.
"Yes, I was just giving a post in Muggle Relations as a consultant. It's the strangest thing. I had tried to get a job there years ago but they turned me down because I 'didn't have the right connections,' but some changes have been going on and now the Ministry's more open to people of non-magical backgrounds like me."
Arthur smiled internally. He knew that Harry had been using his power in the Wizengamot to push for government reforms. His department had already been undergoing expansion and a bit of a rise in the budget.
"Abigail, would you care to come in for a cup of tea? I'd love to hear about what you've been up to since Hogwarts."
"Won't your wife mind?" Abigail asked. "Last I'd heard you were married to Molly Prewett."
"You mean you haven't heard about the love potion scandal Molly's gotten involved in?"
"Arthur, I'm afraid I haven't heard much in terms of current events in the magical world."
"Well, I suppose you could say I'm about to go through a divorce. How about we have that tea and I can tell you about it."
Abigail gave a friendly smile and followed him into the kitchen.
It was late in the evening and the six girls who were closest with Harry were sitting in the living area of the Founders' Quarters. Luna was grinning brightly as she pretended to be studying from a book on biology. She knew something was going to happen very soon. Being directly linked to the Fates had its benefits.
"Ladies, I do believe we have an opportunity open to us," she said suddenly.
"What is it, Luna?" said Hermione.
"What if I was to tell you that the Fates were about grant us our memories of the dystopian future that Harry came back in time from?"
"What is she talking abou-" Susan started only to be cut off as memories of a future that now no longer existed flooded her brain. The other girls all had similar looks of shock as they, too, began to see everything that happened in the other future.
Hermione's eyes were wide as she remembered following Harry on the quest for the Horcruxes, getting tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, and watching as Harry finally took down Voldemort. It was one thing to hear the events told to her by Harry, it was another to see them for herself. As she saw the years that followed the battle, less clear than the memories of the war itself, she saw the miserable life she had being married to Ron Weasley. Ron was always putting down her achievements at the Ministry just as he had to her academic endeavors. She saw long nights of fighting and of trying to convince Ron to go with her to a marriage counselor, but he was as stubborn and hot-headed as always. The more she saw, the angrier she became with the little prick. It was even worse than Harry had described that fateful Christmas that he told her, Neville, and Luna about being from the future.
Susan remembered how her Aunt Amelia had been murdered so suddenly by the Death Eaters and Voldemort. She was alone in the world. Her parents, her Uncle Edgar and his family, and finally her Aunt Amelia had all been ripped away from her, all because they didn't support a monstrous regime. Susan herself had been badly injured in the final battle, but she eventually recovered and became Harry's partner in the Auror Corps. She remembered how she had had to intervene when Ginny had begun to stalk Harry after the couple's divorce and how Ginny had put her in St. Mungo's for a month during a particularly bad confrontation.
Tracey shuddered as she saw her alternate future unfold. Without Harry to help her, the marriage contract with the Goyles had gone through. Tracey was one of a handful of Slytherins who chose to fight against the Death Eaters in the final battle, along with Daphne, Astoria, Blaise Zabini, and Theo Nott. Tracey had fought with everything she had because, with that marriage contract hanging over her head, she felt she had nothing to lose. The last thing she saw of her alternate future was a bright green flash from a Death Eater she recognized as Yaxley as his mask had fallen off in the fight.
Daphne's alternate future wasn't as bad. She'd survived the battle but had married Blaise Zabini simply to save herself from a debt the Greengrass family owed the Malfoys (who'd escaped justice once again). It wasn't that Blaise was a bad husband or that he mistreated her, it was just that once they were all older it became clear that Blaise was actually in love with Astoria, who'd fallen prey to Draco Malfoy calling in the debt and demanding one of the Greengrass sisters as a wife. Daphne had only married because she wanted to ensure Malfoy couldn't get his hands on the Greengrass fortune, as Draco had squandered his own. There had been nothing Daphne could do and both she and Astoria spent the rest of their lives in marriages they didn't want. So, it was still pretty bad.
Fay's future had been bright at the beginning. Fay had gone back to Hogwarts simply to help protect her friends and fellow students. Like Neville, she had stood up against the Carrows and had gotten badly beaten up for it. After helping the DA fight the Death Eaters, her family was still safe thanks to her mother taking the rest of them into hiding. Fay had then gone on to join the Holyhead Harpies as a Beater, where she had the unfortunate bad luck to have to work alongside Ginny Weasley. Fay and Harry became friends when Harry had stopped by to see the practices. Ginny hadn't liked that and had threatened Fay to keep away from Harry. Fay had ended up drinking regularly in order to help her nerves, which were constantly frayed because she had to work with Ginny. Her life came to an abrupt end when she had gotten into a shouting match with Ginny and suddenly found herself falling over the railing at the Quidditch stadium. While the memory was hazy, because she had been a bit tipsy at the time, she did know she hadn't fallen by accident.
Luna was the only one of the six who had already known what her future was to have been had Harry not come back in time. She would have gone on to marry Rolf Scamander, a nice boy but one who hadn't bothered to say anything to her while at school and who didn't really understand her eccentricities and felt she needed 'help' for it. It wasn't a bad life; it just wasn't as fulfilling as Luna would have wanted.
"It really is a good thing Harry came back in time, then, isn't it?" Luna said aloud.
"Oh my God," Fay exclaimed.
"It could've been worse."
"How could it have been worse?" Susan demanded.
"Well, you could've been killed in a cheese cauldron explosion," said Luna. "Or you could've been caught in the middle of the Great Owl Uprising."
"Do we even want to know what you're talking about, Luna?" said Hermione.
"Probably not. Some things are best left secret."
Author's Note: Yeah, I'm a romantic at heart and I felt that after years of being married to a shrew like Molly that Arthur at least needed someone to talk to, and who better than an old flame? You know, Rowling's casual attitude towards love potions really makes me wonder about her. Molly freely admitted in the third book that she had used a love potion at least once in her life, whether it was just an "innocent" little love potion to get Arthur to notice her is irrelevant. I'd like to see Rowling dismiss the dangers of love potions if a girl had been love potioned by a guy.
Also, I figured the reason why Harry would be so hesitant to make romantic advances to the girls is because he was mentally older than they. Plus, I wanted to experiment with creating the futures the girls would have had if Harry hadn't gone back in time. The thing about Hermione trying to get Ron to go to marriage counseling comes from a comment J.K. made about how Ron and Hermione actually weren't that well matched but they might work things out if they went to marriage counseling. Can you honestly see Ron going to counseling for anything?
Omake:
"Once, I was in love with someone who was young and beautiful and bright and free," said Arthur Weasley. "What ever happened to her?"
"You dumped her and married me," said Molly.
Chapter 27
Shut Up or We'll Close the Bar
Harry was a bit confused by the request to meet with the girls alone in the Room of Requirements. They had said it was something quite important. Harry knew he could trust the girls with his life, but why did they want to meet with him, alone, at this time of evening? They'd assured him it wasn't something to do with Dumbledore's meddling or the Triwizard. Harry, despite all the crazy and improbable things that had happened to him over the last year and a half, was still very much the awkward young man he'd always been deep down. No matter how confident he seemed to his friends and the public, he was still burdened with the memories of what he'd seen, both in the old timeline and the memories of the future the Ministry of Death had given him. Handling Voldemort, the Death Eaters, Dumbledore, and the backwards magical society he could deal with; the fact that he had to find six wives and had six very attractive close female friends didn't seem to quite connect within the parts of the male brain that Harry, like so many males before him, was inherently kept clueless by when it came to matters of the female sex.
The matter, however, would soon be solved as he knocked on the door to the Room of Requirements. The door immediately opened and Harry found himself seized by the front of his robes and yanked inside the room, the door closing behind him with an ominous bang.
No one would ever know what exactly happened or what was said-Perhaps some teary declarations of love after the revelation of the girls' attainment of their memories of the alternate future. All anyone could say for certain is that Harry left the Room of Requirements several hours later, his robes disheveled, his face covered in kiss marks, and a big grin on his face as he escorted his six mutual girlfriends back to the Founders' Quarters.
Somehow, some way, the six girls had come to an understanding about a joint relationship with Harry. Hermione's planning skills came in handy when she organized everything so that, as long as Harry was willing to agree, they would all date him at the same time, with the caveat that no girl would be given primacy over the others and that it would be a relationship of equals. As the girls were already very close friends by that point, and because they all knew how important it was for Harry to at least have a girlfriend for each of his six principal titles (the minor Houses of Evans and Florus not meriting the need for any more women to get involved), the matter simply required the consent of the young man in question as the girls had agreed that they would not force Harry into anything but merely wanted to offer the plan as the best option on the board at present.
Considering Harry's status after leaving the Room of Requirements that evening, it was fairly safe to assume the plan was met with a positive reaction.
Harry and the girls decided that, for the time being, only their closest friends would know about their relationship. They would take that time to arrange for Harry to go on separate dates with each of them, in order to test the waters as it were. Hermione's impeccable planning skills were once more put to use as the girls decided amongst themselves whose turn would come when. They agreed that, by the end of the year, they would make the relationship publically known.
Well, sure enough the day of the final task was about to arrive.
Harry suspected that somehow Voldemort would find a way to get him to the graveyard. Harry wondered just what effect the "changes" he'd made to the bones in grave of Voldemort's Muggle father would have on the ritual. Harry didn't know it yet, but the switch he'd made, combined with his Metamorphmagus abilities, would prove to be either the inspiration of a divine superpower or a completely fortuitous series of coincidences that just happened to be useful in the long run. When Harry was involved, one could never be too certain.
Draco looked over the instructions he'd received from the Dark Lord once more as he carefully tucked the package he'd received within his robes. The Dark Lord had been most insistent that Potter be in that graveyard for the ritual. Draco knew he had to get this mission right or suffer his master's displeasure.
That was why, a month earlier, he had started brewing a potion that was supposed to grant you good luck. It was called Felix something—Draco hadn't bothered to memorize the name. He was certain that, considering his outstanding grades in Potions before that Mudblood Professor Preston showed up-Honestly, the man had the nerve to mark Draco's last assignment as a T!-that he was more than capable of brewing a simple little luck potion. Draco was certainly showing Professor Preston who the competent brewer was by cutting back the usual six months to a year generally required for making the potion to just one month, as well as ignoring some of the guidelines Draco found too complicated to follow.
Unfortunately for Draco, karma has a way of taking advantage of idiots.
Ron smiled proudly as he made his way into the chamber where the champions were being greeted by their families. He noticed for a moment that Malfoy was absent, but shrugged it off and thanked his luck. One less champion meant more praise for him.
Ron was greeted by his father and his three eldest brothers, all of whom were giving him nervous looks as though they feared the worst.
"Well, Ron, how are you feeling?" said Arthur Weasley.
"I'm feeling great, Dad! After how masterfully I handled the last two tasks, this one should be easy!" Ron replied proudly.
Percy rested his face in his palm and started going over the numbers for the account he was presently working on in his head. Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose and kept having to remind himself that he could be comforted by the fact that his girlfriend was waiting for him out in the stands (Red had been sent a missive by Lord Potter requesting her presence for something expected to happen after the third task).
Bill just shifted awkwardly and kept looking over his brother at the beautiful French champion. Bill managed to attract Fleur's attention and, after they both seemed to indicate a mutual interest, they had a silent conversation, Fleur glancing at his younger brother and then giving him a look that basically said "Please tell me you're not related to him." Bill responded with his own look of "Sadly yes, but I'm still a fairly decent human being who won't act like a berk to you." Fleur gave him a sympathetic expression and nodded, showing she would be interested in giving him a chance.
"I just wish Mum was here to see me in my moment of glory," Ron continued. "When's she coming home, Dad?"
"Uhh, Ron, maybe now's not the best time," said Arthur Weasley.
"Why not?"
"Well, Ron, you know your mother was arrested for breaking the new anti-love potion laws, and that one of her victims was me?"
Ron nodded along, not really understanding what his father was getting at.
"Well, the thing is…How about we talk about this after the task, all right, son?"
"Uh, I guess so, Dad."
"Champions," said Ludo Bagman excitedly. "Time to take your places!"
"Ooh, I'd better get going!"
"Good luck, Ron," his brothers all said together, though with a clear note of skepticism. Bill, Charlie, and Percy all looked awkwardly at each other, realizing they'd all had the same premonition of doom.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin," Ludo Bagman announced. "In first place…"
Harry disengaged from the ramblings of the former Quidditch star-turned Ministry flunky. His attention had shifted to Malfoy, who was currently shooting him looks that Harry didn't care for. Harry had a strange feeling that Malfoy was up to something and knew it had to do with getting Harry to the graveyard. Oh well, Harry sighed internally, if it wasn't one thing it was another.
"…On my whistle, Cedric Diggory will be the first to enter, followed by…"
"I am definitely going to appreciate the after-party we arranged once this nonsense is over," Harry muttered to his girlfriends.
"Knowing your habit of getting into trouble, we'll all need a diversion from whatever happens," said Hermione.
"What makes you think something's going to happen?" said Tracey.
"Fourth year in the old timeline. Besides, this is Harry we're talking about."
"I see your point."
"Hey, I'm not that bad," Harry protested weakly.
"Yes you are," his six ladies retorted, causing him to give a fake pout.
The first whistle sounded and Cedric Diggory entered the maze, followed soon afterwards by the other champions. Ron and Draco were the last to enter and all there was left to do was wait and stare at the hedges. Seriously, Harry thought, who was the idiot who planned this?
Ron was running helter-skelter through the maze, having no clue where he was going. He'd been so certain of his victory, and these stupid hedges were getting in his way! It was eerie and dark and he hadn't eaten in over an hour.
"Dammit, why'd they have to think up something so stupid?" he grumbled. "Bet all the other champions are having even more trouble, considering they're not as smart as me."
He took a step forward and immediately found himself caught in a yellow mist that flipped him upside-down. Ron flailed and struggled, trying to free himself from the strange enchantment. He figured he'd better cast a spell or something, only to discover he'd dropped his wand.
"Ha, the blood traitor caught!" came the familiar, sneering voice of Draco Malfoy. "Seems I might not need this luck potion I whipped up. Well, I'll soon get Potter here and complete my mission for the Dark Lord. Even if the stupid scarhead hates you, Weasel, there's no way he'd leave you to die. He should be getting my message about now."
Harry looked up when Malfoy's eagle owl swooped over and dropped a letter into his hands. Opening it with a sense of resignation, Harry read the threat.
Dear Scarhead,
I've captured the redheaded Weasel and will be ending his pathetic existence if you don't get here in five minutes.
"I guess I'd better go stop him," Harry said.
"Must you?" said Daphne. "You could just leave him there and hand the letter over to the authorities."
"I had a feeling this day was coming. But, you all could let Madam Bones and the Aurors know and give them the letter. I have a feeling I know what's going to happen. Some points in history just can't be averted. Besides, I've got a plan."
The girls exchanged looks. While they trusted Harry and knew he wouldn't deliberately cause any harm or danger to himself or others, walking into Draco's rather poorly-planned trap to get him to Voldemort's rebirth ritual didn't seem like a very good idea. However, they allowed Harry to head off towards the maze before they went straight to the Aurors. After all, they knew Voldemort had to be brought back into some sort of physical form before he could finally be defeated, they just hoped Harry knew what he was doing.
Harry quickly located Malfoy and the captured Ron Weasley, who was still hanging upside-down in midair.
"Ha, at last I've got you, Scarhead!" Malfoy exclaimed.
"Can we get this over with?" said Harry. "I've got six very attractive witches waiting for me back at the stands."
"Oh, believe me, Potter, it will all be over soon." Malfoy gave a smarmy grin. "But first, I want payback for how you've humiliated me."
Harry was surprised when Draco lunged at him, not expecting the arrogant ponce to fight in a way that didn't involve hexing someone when their back was turned. Harry, however, simply shot out a hand and held Draco off at arm's length until the boy backed up.
"Wait, I wasn't ready!" Draco insisted. "I forgot my secret weapon!" Draco pulled out a small bottle of what looked like a gloopy bit of muck. When he unstoppered it, though, a curious thing happened. In the slight tussle between the two youths, a stray hair of Harry's had fallen onto Draco's sleeve. In a sheer bit of coincidence, that same hair came loose as soon as Draco open up the bottle of potion, promptly falling inside. The potion suddenly glowed a bright gold. "Aha! My Liquid Luck potion works!" Draco then tipped the potion back in one swallow.
Harry stared blankly. He knew Felix Felicis didn't go from greyish goop to shining gold like that. It quickly dawned on Harry that, somehow, Draco had gotten the recipe mixed up. Draco had just drunk Polyjuice that, considering its color, Harry was certain was for his own identity.
Harry was quickly proven correct when Malfoy's form shifted to that of Harry's.
"I suppose I shouldn't rough you up too much, Potter. The Dark Lord needs you in one piece."
Draco clearly hadn't realized he'd changed shape. The git must've misunderstood the feelings associated with the transformation. Harry just sighed and slowly shook his head.
"Fine, Malfoy, do your worst."
Draco grinned and lunged at Harry, this time holding up some random object that Harry assumed was the portkey to the graveyard. Harry was proven correct once again when he felt the hook-like sensation behind his navel and soon landed with a thump on a familiar stretch of ground. Malfoy was just standing up to dust himself off when Harry shot a body-bind and silencing hex at him. Harry quickly stood and morphed into Malfoy's form. Just in time as Lucius suddenly appeared, holding the evil-looking bundle that was Voldemort's current, baby-like form. Harry noticed that Nagini was nowhere to be seen, clearly because Wormtail hadn't been around.
"Ah, Draco, well done," Lucius said. "You actually did something right."
Harry just gave his best Draco impersonation and grinned smugly.
"Lucius, tie Potter to the headstone!" Voldemort hissed.
On the ground, the real Draco struggled in vain, trying to tell them that he wasn't Harry Potter. Harry didn't feel the least bit guilty about watching Draco be tied up to the headstone, nor when his blood was taken for the ritual. Harry had to fight back a maniacal grin when Lucius levitated a bone from the grave of Voldemort's father into the cauldron, remembering what he'd replaced the real bones with.
The cauldron frothed and bubbled, before a curious bout of red lights started shooting out of it. The cauldron then rumbled and melted. And in the midst of a cloud of black smoke, a dark mass huddled.
"It is complete! I am restored! I am-" Voldemort suddenly stopped in the middle of his exclamations. Instead of returning to his full, snake-human hybrid form, Voldemort had been transformed into some strange, red-eyed…wombat? "LUCIUS! What's happened to me?!"
"I don't know, my Lord," Lucius stammered, wincing in pain at the stump where his hand had once been. "Something must have gone wrong."
"But—but, how?"
It was at that moment that the real Draco transformed back. The evil man and the wombat both stared at Draco, then over at Harry who slowly morphed back to his true form, a smug smile on his face.
"See ya 'round, Voldie, Lucie," Harry said genially, before grabbing Draco by the shoulder and summoning the portkey which transported them back to Hogwarts.
Voldemort let out a high-pitched and very unintimidating scream of rage.
Harry immediately found himself swept into a group hug by his worried girlfriends. Draco was still thrashing about in a body-bind, silently screaming his head off.
"Mr. Potter, what happened?" Amelia Bones asked as soon as she and the other adults approached.
"I think we would all like to know that," Dumbledore added.
"You want to know what happened?" Harry said evenly. "Malfoy here had the brilliant idea of attempting to kidnap me. Incidentally, you might want to go and find Ronald Weasley. I imagine he's still caught in the yellow mist obstacle."
Harry saw one of the professors head off towards the maze.
"I think this would be a conversation better given in private," Harry continued. "Madam Bones, Minister Fudge, Professor McGongall, Headmaster Dumbledore," the last he said with a note of annoyance. "If you would all follow me, these lovely ladies here, and my close friend and ally, Neville Longbottom, up to the headmaster's office. I suggest you also bring a few Aurors. Also, Miss Bayly, if you could join us?
"I also recommend getting Malfoy to the hospital wing, preferably tied up so he can't make an escape after what's gone on this evening."
Malfoy was levitated away by Madam Pomfrey while Harry and the group made their way up to the headmaster's office. Once there, everyone took their seats and Harry launched into his story. He told them more or less everything, except the part about knowing it was Voldemort who was behind it all until the ritual actually started. Morphing into Draco's form was excused away by Harry's insistence that, considering Harry himself was the target, it would be safer to look like the one responsible form the kidnapping as Draco had somehow taken some sort of Polyjuice potion to look like Harry, clearly without realizing his mistake. Harry also insisted that he would not have allowed Draco to come to any real harm as he was still technically a Hogwarts student, but one who should be brought in for questioning by the authorities.
When Harry got to the part about Voldemort's resurrection, Minister Fudge looked about ready to wet his pants.
"But—but that's not possible! I mean, You-Know-Who is dead!"
"Yes, Minister," said Harry. "Well, virtually, Minister."
"He's not completely dead?"
"No, he's not completely dead, Minister, but he's not at all well. Seems he's had a strange reaction to the ritual and his new form is not…not quite as intimidating as it might otherwise have been."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, how do I put this? Something must have gone wrong because, well, Voldemort has somehow become a human-wombat hybrid."
Everyone just stared at Harry.
"I know, it sounds strange, but what do you expect with magic?"
"So…You-Know-Who is back?" Fudge said with a trembling voice, not wanting to believe it.
"I'm afraid so, Minister. Mostly because the headmaster here couldn't be bothered to share the information he had."
"I beg your pardon, Harry?" Dumbledore exclaimed.
"Professor, did you or did you not inform the Ministry when Voldemort's wraith had apparently been possessing Professor Quirrell during my first year, at the same time that you'd decided to hide the Philosopher's Stone in Hogwarts, knowing full well the danger it would pose to the students?"
"I-well I…"
"Did you or did you not bring Tom Riddle's cursed diary to the attention of the Ministry even after it had possessed a student and caused her to unleash the basilisk on the school?"
"I-"
"Sir, I'm afraid your negligence for student safety and your lack of initiative to bring the knowledge of things that could have aided in Voldemort's return to the attention of the Ministry to be completely reprehensible and in conflict with your position of headmaster. I am afraid I'm going to have to call for your resignation and prosecution. Miss Bayly, you have the necessary paperwork?"
"Right here, Lord Potter," Red replied, holding up a stack of forms.
Amelia's grin was quite nasty as she called in Tonks, Sirius, and the Longbottoms, who were on duty for the task that evening.
"Ladies, gentlemen, I believe we have someone here who needs to be escorted to the Ministry holding cells," Amelia said.
"Ahh, I had hoped we wouldn't have to hit this little snag," said Dumbledore. "You see, I have no intention of being ares-"
He was cut off when Sirius shot a body-bind curse in his direction. Only Dumbledore's situational awareness kept him from being hit. After all, he hadn't expected the Aurors to start firing before he'd finished his little speech. He had been trying to summon Fawkes to help him out, but the phoenix just glared at him. So, Dumbledore did the only thing that would make the entire situation much less risky for him. He Disapparated.
"Damn it!" Harry shouted. "Should've known he'd do that, the bastard. I can't believe I forgot that the headmaster can Apparate and Disapparate on Hogwarts grounds." Harry raised his wand. "I, Harry James Potter, Heir of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, hereby strip Albus Dumbledore of his title as Headmaster as he has been found to be remiss in his responsibilities to the school and its students. I hereby offer the post to Professor Minerva McGonagall."
Professor McGongall raised her own wand.
"I, Minerva Isobel McGongall, accept the post of Headmistress of Hogwarts as offered by Harry James Potter," she replied.
With a flash, the pact was sealed and the new head was instated.
"Well, now that that's over with, I hope the Ministry will take measures to ensure Voldemort and Dumbledore are taken down," said Harry.
"But, how on earth will I explain this to the public?" Fudge sputtered nervously. He knew there was no way he could brush this under the rug.
"I find that the truth tends to work best in most situations," said Harry. He then turned to Luna. "I trust your father would care for the story?"
"Of course, Harry," said Luna. "He's waiting downstairs right now."
"Minister, you have two paths open to you right now," Harry said to Fudge. "You can either take your stand against Voldemort and his Death Eaters now while they're still weak and Dumbledore while he's still on the run, and become widely respected as the Minister who stopped the danger before it had time to harm countless lives. Or else you could step aside and let someone else take the reins. I personally don't care which as I will be doing what I do best, making sure the students of Hogwarts have a safe and educational experience here. If either Voldemort or Dumbledore causes you problems, I will be happy to lend my support. You'll know where to find me. Now, however, I have an after-party to get to."
Harry, his girlfriends, and his best male friend made their way out of the office and headed for the Great Hall where a party was going in full-swing to celebrate the victory of Cedric Diggory, Fleur Delacour, and Viktor Krum who had, apparently, plotted to work together for a joint victory of the three schools.
Author's Note: Ha! I promised myself I'd get this done before New Year's Day and I did! Score one for Red! Sorry if it seems a bit rushed, but I wanted to meet the deadline.
Also, sorry about the problems with viewing the chapter. Fanfiction's been acting weird and I don't know what happened.
Omake: Some funny romance inserted for good measure.
Minerva McGongall was making her usual rounds about the castle when she heard a sound she was all too familiar with after being a professor for so long.
"All right, come out of that broom closet," she said evenly to the source of the noise.
Some giggles and shushes were the only response.
"Look, I've been a professor here for longer than I'd care to admit and I am more than familiar with the noises of certain activities. Either you can come out or I open the door."
No response.
McGonagall sighed in frustration and gave a wave of her wand that opened the closet door. What she hadn't been prepared for was the sight of a bedraggled Sirius Black and a disheveled Bathsheba Babbling to come tumbling out as they once had back in their Hogwarts days. Shaking off the feeling of Déjà vu, McGonagall rested her hands on her hips and donned "Seriously Unamused Frown Number Four" as she stared down the rambunctious Auror and the normally well-behaved Runes professor.
"Hiya, Minnie," Sirius said casually as he and his fiancée straightened themselves up.
"Mr. Black, had you two still been students I would give you two weeks' detention. This wouldn't be the first time I've caught you both canoodling in a Hogwarts broom closet, though it's the first time I've found you doing so as adults who are responsible for the wellbeing of innocent children."
"You obviously haven't been looking hard enough, Professor," Sirius replied smugly as Bathsheba blushed a bright red in mortification.
"Just see that it doesn't happen again. Or at least have the decency to not get caught."
McGonagall smiled quietly to herself as she turned away from the surprised couple.
Chapter 28
Ah! Me War Wound!
Harry and the girls playfully staggered back to the Founders' Quarters, covered in confetti and laughing about the fun they had had at the after party. Harry was certain that someone had spiked the punch, because he couldn't focus straight and his hair kept cycling through different colors like he knew Tonks' sometimes did under similar circumstances. Neville and Hannah were still at the party, the last Harry had seen of them they were dancing on one of the tables (yep, that punch was definitely spiked).
"I still can't believe Fleur, Viktor, and Cedric conspired like that to win a joint victory," said Daphne. "Kind of defeats the whole point of the competition."
"Actually, I think it does the opposite," said Fay. "I mean, the purpose of the Triwizard was to bring cooperation between the three schools. What good is the competition if it just drives a wedge further between the students because of rivalry?"
"That's a really good point," said Tracey. "You know, when you think about, the whole notion of an intensely competitive tournament to promote international cooperation is just kind of stupid."
"Potter!" came an angry shout behind them. They all turned and saw Ronald Weasley standing behind them, looking absolutely furious. "I know you're responsible for me losing the tournament! It's all your fault I lost the chance at the money and the fame!"
"Ron, if it wasn't for me, Draco would likely have tortured and killed you," said Harry. He didn't doubt that Draco would've done it. "Now, if you'll excuse me, we're tired from the party and would like to retire for the evening. If you'll excuse us."
"You think you're so great, don't you, Potter?" Ron sneered as Harry and the girls turned back on their path. "Strutting around with those sluts of yours, acting like you're better than everyone else. Well, it's time someone taught you a lesson."
Before Ron could even point his wand at Harry, Harry had him disarmed while the girls all fired their own hexes at the prat.
"Was it necessary for all of you to hex him?" said Harry.
"Sorry, Harry, we just kind of reacted," said Fay.
"After all, some of us have been assisting in your security detail," said Susan.
"I suppose he did have it coming for calling you all that word," said Harry. "I must admit, I wasn't going to simply Stun him either."
"Better report this to a professor, though," said Hermione. "Unfortunately, we can't just leave him out here all night."
"Pity," said Daphne. "He has it coming."
By the following day, as everyone was preparing to leave for summer holiday, the news of Harry's, Hermione's, Luna's, Daphne's, Tracey's, Susan's, and Fay's relationship was public. Voldemort's return was also mentioned in The Quibbler that morning, but the additional information about his botched ritual and his new form caused many bouts of laughter and was largely overlooked in favor of talking about the six lucky ladies and the one lucky Harry as the happy group talked with their friends and made plans for the coming vacation.
The general Hogwarts populous and that of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang congratulated them, though there were a few venomous looks shot in the direction of Harry's new girlfriends. The girls knew that as soon as word got out that there would be a number of their classmates who would likely make some pitiful attempt to take their places at Harry's side; the idiots who tried anything would soon find out why you didn't mess with the six strongest witches in Hogwarts.
Rumors had also begun to circle about what happened to the headmaster, as Professor McGonagall had now taken the reins of the school. Some even said Harry killed Dumbledore in an epic duel, or at least banished him to the Puppet Dimension so he would never bother their world again.
However, the rumors of Dumbledore's death, or at least banishment to the Puppet Dimension, were greatly exaggerated. Dumbledore had, in fact, decided to Apparate to one of the countries that felt indebted to him for 'defeating' Grindelwald. As it happened, the country he chose to go to so he could hide out and maybe rally some support was Bulgaria. So, as soon as he was recognized after appearing in the magical district, he was quickly set upon by an angry mob of witches and wizards who had learned, thanks to Viktor Krum, that Dumbledore had not killed Grindelwald as he had made it seem and had, instead, simply locked the bastard up in Nurmengard.
Let's just say that old Dumbles was not having a good day.
"Lucius!" the dark wombat Voldemort squeaked.
"Yes, my Lord?"
"Have you figured out what's wrong with me yet?"
"I'm afraid not, Master. It would take an expert to figure that out."
"Then we need to get in the other Death Eaters. Maybe one of them will have some measure of competence. And believe me, Lucius, your son Dorko is in for the Cruciatus of a lifetime for letting Potter get away for botching up my rebirth."
"Yes, Master."
Lucius knew it would mean his immediate execution if he laughed, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to take his master seriously when he looked and sounded so ridiculous. Not that he would ever allow those thoughts to pass through his mind as his master was still an expert Legilimens. Lucius also knew they couldn't keep their hideout at that old manor hour, and Lucius' own mansion would likely be the first place the Aurors would look. Lucius just hoped the other Death Eaters would have the sense not to say anything about their master's new form that might cause him to start shooting Crucios.
Minister Fudge was frantically pacing around his office as Amelia Bones watched him with an air of slight bemusement.
"What am I going to do, Amelia?" Fudge whined. "The Dark Lord can't be back!"
"I'm afraid he is, Minister," Amelia replied. "The public has been informed and any attempt at a cover-up would only make them outraged that the Ministry chose to put the lives of innocents at risk just to avoid dealing with the problem."
"But I don't know how to handle this, Amelia! I'm a politician, you know I can't make decisions for myself! This involves going up against…againt…"
"Against a giant wombat with severely diminished magical powers. If you're so worried, just give me the authority to deal with this."
"You-you'd really do that, Amelia?"
"It is kind of my job to take down Dark wizards, Cornelius."
"Yes, of course! Anything you need, just ask!"
"I have your permission to use whatever means I feel are necessary to take down Voldemort?"
"Agreed!"
"I can use Veritaserum on any suspect at any time without asking consent or a warrant?"
"Agreed!"
"And I can question any member of the Ministry, in any position, if I have just cause to suspect them?"
"Yes, yes, agreed! Just please take care of this mess!"
Amelia smiled.
"Thank you, Minister, it's a pleasure doing business with you."
Cornelius sat down nervously at his desk as he watched Amelia leave. His nerves on edge, he twiddled his thumbs and hoped that dumping the entire situation in Amelia's lap would pay off.
Summer saw many happy and fun memories being made. Harry, his girlfriends, and his friends all enjoyed the joyous time of year, going to beaches and parties and traveling to exotic locations and all the usual things one does when their life is turning up roses like Harry's was.
Then, of course, there was the trip to Norway for Sirius and Bathsheba's wedding. Harry's girlfriends and their families had all been invited, as well as the few remaining relatives Sirius had that he could stand the sight of.
Tonks had even been invited to serve as a bridesmaid, something which she handled with her usual amount of elegance and grace by tripping over her dress about halfway down the aisle. Remus was, naturally, serving as the best man, though Sirius also requested Harry to stand up there with him as well.
Bathsheba's family were a fairly friendly group, with the exception of her Aunt Skadi, who was terrifyingly frigid towards everyone. Bathsheba's cousins had taken up the responsibility of giving Sirius the "hurt her and you die" spiel as her father wasn't alive to do it himself.
Harry couldn't help but feel overjoyed for his godfather when the lovely bride made her way down the aisle. After all, Sirius deserved happiness after the twelve years of Hell he'd been through. Plus, with Sirius and Bathsheba on their honeymoon, that meant Harry was practically unsupervised as Remus seemed to be getting frequently distracted by Tonks. Harry had wondered if the two would get together in this new timeline without the Order of the Phoenix pushing them together, at least now they could develop a relationship under healthier circumstances, especially considering Harry and Sirius had been helping Remus get over his feelings of self-hatred.
The summer ended up going by fairly quickly for everyone. Well, everyone except a certain dark wombat. None of his non-imprisoned followers knew how to undo what had happened to him, plus he had to Crucio them constantly because they couldn't seem to control their laughter. One attempt at getting him back to his old self just ended up with him getting a terrible speech impediment.
"Wot did you foows do?" Voldemort snapped. "This is tewwible!"
"It's not so bad, my Lord," said one of the Death Eaters. "Certainly not worth Crucio-ing us over," he added hopefully.
"Hmmm. Cwucio!"
"GAHH!"
"Wewll, at weast I can stiwl cast a pwopah Cwucio."
"My Lord, perhaps if we break the others out of Azkaban, then they might know something?" another Death Eater suggested.
"Bwiwliant! I'm so gwad I thought of it. In the meantime, we wiwl wemind Bwitain of who they should feaw! Pwepah fow a stwike of epic pwopowtions!"
Another Death Eater couldn't hold it in anymore and doubled over laughing, only to end up being Crucioed.
As Voldemort plotted the impending attack on Azkaban, he gave his Death Eaters permission to cause havoc and destruction. However, his instructions were not exactly understood. So, at the office of the head of the DMLE, Director Bones was faced with a serious task at hand.
"Fifteen Sickles a head? That's ordinary cabbage, is it? Well, how much are the bombs? Good Lord, they are expensive." Amelia hung up the new Splunge Inc. cellphone (a new and hot item on the wizarding market thanks to Harry and his Board and soon to be released on a wider scale to the Muggle world).
There was a knock on the door.
"Enter!"
Auror Tonks entered the room.
"Ma'am, news from the front."
"Yes?"
"Well, the enemy have all got little silver halos."
"What?"
"And they've got fairy wands. And they've got spiders in matchboxes."
"Merlin's beard, how did our Aurors react?"
"Well, they were jolly interested, Ma'am. Some of them, I think it was the Southampton Division, they – Well they…"
"Go on."
"Well, they wanted to have a look at the spiders."
"Oh my God," Amelia groaned. She then turned to Shacklebolt, Moody, and Scrimgeour. "Gentlemen, we face a serious problem. It seems the enemy are not only fighting this war on the cheap, but they're also not taking it seriously."
"Bastards," growled Moody.
"First, they fire off cabbages instead of decent explosive spells-"
"The crates were probably quite expensive, Ma'am," Tonks interjected.
"Quiet, critic! And now, they're doing very silly things in one of the most vital areas of the war."
"What are we going to do, Amy?" asked Scrimgeour.
"We're going to outsmart them. We'll show these Russians-"
"Death Eaters," corrected Kingsley.
"- these Death Eaters that no British Auror will descend to their level. Anyone found trivializing this war will face the supreme penalty that Ministry law can provide."
As Amelia was faced with the daunting and very confusing task of dealing with Death Eaters doing very silly things rather than their usual tactics of mayhem and destruction, Harry and the others were preparing for their return to Hogwarts.
"Going to be a bit strange experiencing fifth year without all the horror and nightmares and death we faced last time," said Harry.
"Don't jinx is, Harry," Hermione warned. "You've never been lucky enough to stay out of danger for too long."
"I know. I'm sure that soon enough something will happen that will force me to have to deal with Moldyshorts and his Death Munchers."
"At least Aunt Amelia is handling the situation very well," said Susan. "Last time, she wasn't…around long enough to make a big difference."
"Well, we'll see to it she is around for a long time to come, Sue," Fay assured her. "Is it true, though, what we've heard about the Death Eaters not following their usual scare tactics?"
"Yes, it's the weirdest thing."
The day before Harry and the others were set to return to school, Voldemort launched his attack on Azkaban. It had actually been more difficult than the dark wombat expected, but he still liberated a crucial part of his fighting force. The news was shocking to Britain, but they knew to be on high alert this time.
As it turned out, Augustus Rookwood, the former Unspeakable, actually did know of a ritual to restore Voldemort to his true form. However, there were conditions to the ritual that Voldemort was less-than-pleased about. Firstly, he wouldn't have his powers back to their former strength until he killed the one responsible for his being in the state he was (meaning Harry), which Voldemort had already planned on doing but he had wanted to do it when he was at his most powerful. The second issue was that Voldemort still had a speech problem that Rookwood couldn't fix until after the ritual had been fully accomplished as adding any additional spells to the mix could make the problem worse. And the third thing that really irked Voldemort was that he might, on occasion, revert back to his wombat form temporarily until the ritual was fully completed (Voldemort also didn't seem to appreciate Rookwood's comment of "Think of it as being a wombat Animagus").
What made the whole situation worse was that Bellatrix apparently thought wombats were cute and kept trying to convince Voldemort to keep the transformation. Some existences just weren't worth getting up for, Voldemort thought.
Chapter 29
A Boot in the Teeth and a Dagger up the Strap
As the students made their way up to the castle for their new year at Hogwarts, a certain snowy owl glided swiftly into the Owlery and settled herself upon her designated perch on the highest tier. It had taken Hedwig a while to reach such a prestigious place, but she had achieved the highest post within the Owlery even before her human's status as the master of the mighty castle had been confirmed.
Hedwig had been practically seen as a fledgling and had had more than a few scrapes with the owls of those humans who were at odds with her own. In particular the cocky though dim-witted eagle owl that served the arrogant blonde human. The school owls had learned their place quickly enough, finding out in the first year why one should never oppose the regal avian that was Hedwig. The student owls had taken more convincing, but not one made any further protests when they learned from their own humans why Hedwig's was to be revered.
"Back once again, Majestic One?" said Hedwig's personal kiss-up, a rather excitable young horned owl named Irvin, who was several tiers down.
"Yes, my Harry has brought me back to ensure order is maintained within his territory," Hedwig replied.
"And I noticed he is keeping his mates closer than before," added an eerie-looking but intelligent Stygian who went by the name of Erebus, who sat on the tier just below Hedwig's. "In particular, I have seen that my Luna is among them." Erebus had been a gift from Luna's father the previous Christmas. He was new to the Owlery, but Hedwig quickly determined him to be trustworthy.
"Yes, the little moon-child is someone I am proud to see as one of my Harry's mates," said Hedwig.
"As is my Daphne," concurred a stately-looking barn owl by the name of Athena, the only owl with enough gumption to perch directly across from Hedwig herself. "She is an exceptionally splendid magic-user and is equal to any one of the other females."
"Indeed she is," Hedwig agreed. "My Harry is lucky to have her." She swiveled her head back to Erebus. "And your Luna as well. I am quite proud to call you my brother and sister. It is nice to have at least some intelligence within this Owlery."
"What about me, Majestic One?" Irvin piped up hopefully.
"Keep riding my tail feathers, fledgling, and we'll see how it goes. Now, on to the important matters. This year, I'm hoping to improve our bacon tribute by at least 30%..."
Harry watched happily as the group of nervous first years shuffled in, preparing to be sorted. They were what it was all about, the future of the world, a world Harry promised himself would be better, a world where children like them wouldn't get caught up in the horrors of a war that should never have happened. Harry knew that some of those children had likely been killed in the old timeline, snatched away as they were boarding the Hogwarts Express to never be seen or heard from again.
Not this time, though. Harry was going to ensure that they, and every student that came to Hogwarts, would never have to go through that. That everyone who came to Hogwarts could be assured of a safe environment that was actually conducive to learning.
Harry was quite pleased with how things were looking for the new school year. Voldemort wasn't going to be a huge problem at the moment, not after what Harry had done to his ritual. The Ministry was actually being competent for once, thanks to Fudge handing the whole thing over to Amelia, who was not disinclined to force Veritaserum down a suspect's throat even when told that said suspect was an "upstanding member of the community who would never join the Dark Lord."
Harry noticed that Malfoy wasn't back this year. A pity, really, as Harry had been prepared to have the boy arrested for his involvement in the plot to resurrect Voldemort. Too bad Draco had given them the slip before summer. Oh well, they'd catch him eventually.
Harry was also pleased with how the selection of Prefects had gone this year. Hermione was still the female Prefect for Gryffindor, as was expected, and Neville had been appointed as the male Prefect (Harry shared a look with Headmistress McGonagall as she gave the opening address that indicated she knew Harry wasn't interested in the Prefect position, being the owner of Hogwarts and all). Daphne and Blaise had been made the Prefects for Slytherin, Susan and Ernie for Hufflepuff, and Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein for Ravenclaw.
"…and first years should note that the Forbidden Forest is exactly that. Forbidden. There are a number of dangerous creatures in those woods, including a colony of Acromantulas which is being transferred to a more suitable sanctuary by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."
Harry looked over at the staff table and saw that Hagrid seemed fairly somber. Harry hadn't really had a choice but to get the Acromantulas moved to a sanctuary abroad as he knew what a danger they posed to both the school and the environment. Still, he didn't like seeing Hagrid upset, but the man had to learn that his "misunderstood" and "interesting" creatures were a credible threat.
On a lighter note, Harry was quite looking forward to the coming year. In addition to his regular courses in magic, he was also taking Math (he'd finally gotten teachers for math courses; they were the hardest to find in the magical community and he'd had to look overseas to locate them; he'd have to send Mr. Bayly a thank-you card for the help). Harry had discovered from Arithmancy that he actually quite enjoyed math, recalling how he'd done well in it in primary school. And it was perfect for enchanting and all the work he was doing with advancing magical technology.
Harry only half-listened to the opening address. He was focusing on the notebook in front of him, tapping his pen against the page. That was one of the good habits Hermione had pushed him into, keeping notes and a schedule so he wouldn't lose focus. He'd already restructured the points system, now Harry was working on making some additions to Hogwarts and possibly restructuring the House system (he had a formula in his head for how it would work and it made considerably more sense than using an old hat to separate students into groups like this).
"Looking forward to the new year?" Fay said across from Harry as the feast began.
"Very much," Harry replied. "You?"
"Not as nervous about the OWLs as last time."
"The OWLs," Hermione gasped from Harry's right. "I can't believe I forgot."
"Hermione, relax."
"Don't you tell me to relax, Harry Potter. And don't think I can't see you smirking at me, Fay Dunbar."
"Why would I be smirking at you?" Fay said, trying to hide her smirk by turning her head away from Hermione and keeping her hand up to try and block the other girl's view.
"Oooh, you both aren't taking this seriously. We know the answers to the OWLs because we got those memories. This is like…like cheating."
"It's not technically cheating, Hermione," Fay assured her. "We may have seen the exams and gone through the practicals, but we already know more than enough to pass our NEWTs by now. I suppose it will be a bit different what with all the non-magical courses we have now."
"At least that will be more of a challenge," Harry offered. "Good thing the Muggle Liaison offices at the Ministry have been able to get us standard testing done so we have our credentials for the non-magical world if any of us want to go to University."
"Right, Harry," Fay agreed, turning back to a flustered Hermione. "So, the real question here, Hermione, is which do you prefer: Oxford, Cambridge, or other?"
Meanwhile, further up the table, Ron was glaring furiously at Harry. It just wasn't fair, in Ron's opinion, that Harry had ended up with not just one but six girlfriends while Ronald had been, again in his opinion, cheated out of the glory and fame he deserved as a Hogwarts champion last year. Ron was also seething that Harry had obviously used his influence to get Neville Longbottom made Prefect when Ron felt he deserved that privilege.
Beside Ron, Ginny was alternating between staring longingly at Harry and directing hateful looks at Hermione and Fay. Ginny had heard about Harry having gotten six girlfriends and it outraged her to no end. Harry was supposed to be hers, dammit! What was worst was that she didn't have access to any love potion to help Harry realize exactly who he should be with.
Many scholars, looking back on these events in history from a hundred or so years in the future, would forever swear that Ronald and Ginevra Weasley had eaten fruit from the Tree of Stupidity when they were young (that most of the scholars making these claims could trace their heritage to the names Lovegood and Potter has no bearing whatsoever on the nature of said scholarly assertions).
"I just hope the Voldemort issue will be dealt with soon," said Hermione. "We don't need any more trouble from him."
"He won't be much of a threat, Hermione," said Harry. "Amelia is doing an excellent job dealing with the Death Eaters and it's not like Voldemort will be showing his face in public after what I did to mess up his resurrection."
Red rolled her eyes as she heard the unmistakable sounds of Reginald mauling someone foolish enough to try sneaking into her house.
"Reg, I thought I said you weren't allowed to eat the Jehovah's Witnesses anymore," she called out.
The large tiger, its lips smeared with blood and clutching a mutilated corpse in its jaws, strode casually into its owner's bedroom. Red looked at the body and realized it wasn't one of those door-to-door evangelists like she'd assumed.
"Oh, it was a Death Eater," she said. "Never mind, continue what you were doing. After all, better you take care of your little 'problems' in a productive way. And nothing says rehab quite like brutally slaughtering terrorists."
"My fwends," Voldemort addressed his inner circle, "we face a most pewilous time…Bewwatwix, stop that." Bellatrix, who had been discretely trying to scratch wombat-mort behind the ears, pouted as she sat back in her chair. "The Bones woman has been intawfewing with ouw pwans. Much of ouw fowces have been neutwawized and…Is thahw something amusing you, Yaxwey?"
"No, my Lord," Yaxley said, fighting back his laughter.
"Hmm. Anyway. What of ouw new wecwuits?"
"We have several new initiates, my Lord," said Lucius. "Unfortunately, they're not exactly…"
"Tally-ho!" an effusive voice announced. "Dreadful sorry, old man. Hope I didn't brass you off. Just got caught up with a bad case of gippy-tummy. Couldn't find the ablutions. Had to make due with a desert lily."
The other Death Eaters stared as one of the newer members took his seat.
"Right," said Lucius. "How did your training mission go?"
"Oh, it was quite the flap. Those balley sprogs pranged their kites into drink. The squabbling bleeder went to shaftie the clanger when some clot came in and got us up by our black-outs. A number of my oppos ended up going for a Burton."
He said this very fast.
"Sorry, I'm not following at all," said Lucius. "Could you repeat that, perhaps a bit slower?"
"Banter's not the same if you say it slower, Lucy."
"Bunch of monkeys on the ceiling, gents!" a new arrival shouted. "Grab your egg and fork and let's get the bacon delivered!"
"What?" everyone said.
"Do you understand that?" Lucius asked the first recruit.
"No, didn't get a word of it."
"Sorry, I'm afraid we don't understand your banter," Yaxley said to the new arrival.
"You know," the frantic man shouted. "Balley ten-penny ones dropping in the custard!" Everyone just stared. "Uhhhm, Charlie chopper's tucking a handful!"
"No, no, sorry," said Lucius. "Could you try giving it to us a bit slower?"
"Slower banter, sir?"
Suddenly, the hideout was rocked with a furious trembling.
"We know you're in there!" Amelia's Bones' voice echoed from outside. "Come out now and surrender!"
"Crikey!" the first recruit shouted. "Time to bail out, lads! Balley Bones is coming right up the blue end! Cabbage crates coming over the briny!"
Everyone exchanged looks.
"No," was the unanimously confused echo.
Author's Note: Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Also, I am sorry this is mostly a filler chapter, but I just really wanted to get something out to let you all know I haven't given up yet. I've been really distracted by my schoolwork, plus I've switched fandom gears recently (I've gotten really hooked on The Avengers; both the movies and the cartoon series).
Anyway, here's an omake that I couldn't really fit into the main story arc.
*[Voldemort, Bellatrix, and Lucius are hiding out at a magical boarding house in Minehead]
The landlady cheerfully showed the Johnson couple around the boarding house, introducing them to the other residents.
"And over here is Mr. Moldevort."
Voldemort straightened up.
"Ah, hello," he said trying to sound casual. "Good afternoon."
The landlady then noticed the map Voldemort, Lucius, and Bellatrix had laid out on the table in front of them.
"Planning a little excursion, are we, Mr. Moldevort?" she asked.
"Yes, yes, we're making a little…" he turned to Bellatrix and Lucius.
"Hike," said Lucius.
"We're making a little hike for-for Bideford."
"Oh," said Mr. Johnson, "well, you'll be wanting the A39, then. No, no, you've got the wrong map, there. This is Godric's Hollow. You want the Ilfracombe and Barnstaple section."
Voldemort and his two accomplices began to laugh. Voldemort then turned to Bellatrix.
"Bell- uh, I mean Beatrice, you have the wrong map you silly old leg-before-wicket Englishwoman."
"I'm-I'm sorry my Dark Lord, I did not-" Voldemort gave her a slap on the cheek. "I mean my-my dear old chum."
Everyone chuckled bemusedly.
"Lucky Mr. Johnson pointed that out, eh?" said the landlady. "You wouldn't have had much fun in Godric's Hollow, would you?" She laughed loudly. "I said you wouldn't have had much fun in Godric's Hollow, would you?"
"Not much fun in Godric's Hollow, no," said Voldemort through gritted teeth.
The landlady then turned back to Mr. and Mrs. Johnson.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't introduce you. This is Mucius, Mucius Lalfoy."
"Oh, not Lucius Malfoy, then?" said Mr. Johnson.
"No!" shouted Lucius. "No, no, a different man entirely. I'm from Somerset and Lucius Malfoy was born in 46 Serpentine Lane, Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire. So they say!" he added as an afterthought before chuckling.
"And this is the quiet one," the landlady said, indicating towards Bellatrix. "Mrs. Beatrice Lebrange."
"How do you do there, squire?" said Bellatrix, speaking rather rapidly. "Also, I'm not a Minehead girl, but was actually born in Peterborough, Lincolnshire house, and had to stay in Peterborough, Lincolnshire house all during the war, owing to nasty, running sores. I was unable to go in the streets, play Quidditch, or go to the Death Eater trials. Ah! I am a retired window-cleaner and pacifist, without doing war-crimes. And was commander of the Death Eater raiding groups for ten years." Voldemort slapped her on the shoulder. "No, five years!" Voldemort slapped her shoulder again, more frantically this time. "No, wait, no, I was not commander of the Death Eater raiding groups at all! I made a joke."
The three naïve people all laughed at her 'antics' while Voldemort glared at her.
"Oh, Mrs. Lebrange, how you do have us on," said the landlady fondly. Just then, there was the sound of a Floo-call coming through. "Oh, excuse me a moment, I must just go and answer that."
As the landlady walked off, Mr. Johnson turned to Voldemort.
"Uh, how long are you down here for, Mr. Moldevort? Just the fortnight?" he said.
Voldemort reacted by drawing his wand.
"Why did you ask that?! Are you a spy or something?! Get over against the wall, you Mudblood pig, you're going to die!"
Mr. Johnson seemed relatively unfazed, clearly thinking this was all in good fun. Lucius and Bellatrix, however, had leapt up to keep Voldemort from doing anything rash.
"Easy there, dear old pal," said Bellatrix.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Johnson," said Lucius, "he's a bit on-edge. He hasn't slept since 1981."
"Shut your cake-hole, you Death Eater," said Voldemort to Lucius.
"Oh, the fun we have," Lucius said with a nervous chuckle.
"Haven't I seen him in the papers?" said Mr. Johnson.
"No! No!" Lucius replied as Voldemort tried to duck out of sight.
"You sure, I could've sworn-"
"No, no."
"Floo-call for you, Mr. Moldevort," said the landlady. "It's that nice Mr. McCarrow from the Bell and Compasses."
"Ah," said Voldemort.
"He says he's found a place where you can hire terrorists by the hour."
"IF HE OPENS HIS BIG MOUTH AGAIN, IT'S CRUCIATUS TIME!" Voldemort shouted as he stormed over to the fireplace.
"Oh, ha-ha, 'hire terrorists by the hour,' what a laugh he is, that Scottish person," said Lucius, who quickly followed after Voldemort.
"He's on the Floo the whole time, nowadays," said the landlady.
"In business, is he?" inquired Mr. Johnson.
"Soon, baby," said Bellatrix, grinning.