Chapter 17: Treacherous shores
*** September 2nd, Gryffindor common room ***
Our less than happy couple met early in the next morning and left the common room before anybody else made it downstairs. Wandering the corridors hand in hand, they kept a comfortable silence as Hermione rested her head on his shoulder as they tried to make up for lost body contact on their long walk. Although they took quite an extended stroll, they were still among the first ones to sit for breakfast and before they even had loaded their plates, McGonagall had sought them out.
"I'm glad that both of you have decided to complete your education, even if I am less than pleased with your decision to resign from your prefect position, Miss Granger," she told them. "Although I can understand it, given the occurrences over summer," she allowed as she handed them their timetables. Hermione sighed in relief at that absolution, as she still held her Head of House in high esteem. It would have hurt her if the strict, but fair woman had not agreed to her course of action. She was so relieved that she nearly didn't get the last statement of Professor McGonagall.
"I am especially proud of you, Mr. Potter, not many people use the chance to take an OWL-level course while being NEWT-level themselves," McGonagall stated before performing an about-face and returning to the teachers table.
Hermione's eyebrow was rising rapidly at that cryptic notion. The crooked grin Harry sported made her curious. "What have you done?"
Without losing his grin, he handed her his timetable. Five seconds later she nearly tackled him off the bench with her kiss.
"You git! Why didn't you tell me that you would take 5th year Runes?"she asked the laughing Harry.
"I wasn't sure if I would be allowed to take them or at which level, I had to take a placement test to be allowed to attend," Harry told the girl squirming in his embrace.
"Really? When did you?"
"Didn't you wonder what I have been doing when your mother whisked you away for that half day of girl-time-shopping with Tonks?" Harry replied, waggling his eyebrows at her.
"Oh! I might have been distracted by shiny things - not bad for a ruse, I say," Hermione cheekily replied as she sat back and smoothed her rumpled clothing.
"And quite expensive, I have to say," Harry added with a wide grin at her as he poured some tea for him.
"I didn't hear you complain when I modelled for you that evening," Hermione harrumphed with no real malice, as she reached for the toast. "But you yet owe me an explanation for why you did," she said, waving her butter knife in his direction, as if to threaten him..
"Careful, before you take an eye out," Harry made fun of her as he recoiled in mock horror. "This thing is more dangerous than the tiny poker you fence with," he said while he disarmed her. "And it's because the Revenge uses that many, and for so many purposes. We used them for so much stuff already, and I think they're handy. I wanted to learn the basics, so I can at least understand the books in our library," he reasoned.
Hermione could agree to this, the only books their library had on the topic were in the range between rather advanced to completely unintelligible to anyone but a master in the field. Harry had been positively thrilled when they used some runes on his holster, and did ask a lot of questions. She had been pleased by his interest back then, but never would have thought he would enrol in a class. And how he went on and did this behind her back was brilliant. She loved it when he applied himself to things and took control.
Happily chatting, they dug into their breakfast. Prior to this, they had considered eating a light breakfast and maybe a bit of fencing done before class. A closer inspection of their timetables changed their minds. Instead of training, they decided on a lazy morning, as they had double Defence to look forward to first thing in the morning.
"Hey there!" Ginny chirped as she flopped herself onto the bench next to Hermione. "You two were up rather early this morning - what gives?"
"Habit," Hermione replied between sips of tea. "We are still on Caribbean time and over there we rose early and rested in the midday heat."
Ginny paused a bit in her sip of tea, but continued drinking without uttering a word.
"Also, we thought about getting a bit of training in before class, but since we start with Snape today, we decided to save our power," Harry added to his girlfriend's explanation, before taking another piece of toast to butter.
"Training? You mean weights and running and stuff? That sounds nasty and boring to me," Ginny told them as she reached for the scrambled eggs.
"No, fencing. The constant motion in sparring is nearly as effective as running and so it doubles as a kind of stamina training, but is more fun and practical."
"You mean with swords and stuff? Cool! Mind if I watch you sometimes?" the petite redhead said conversationally while loading her plate with eggs and bacon, the usual Weasley load. Hermione had to swallow her envy on how much that girl could eat without putting weight on.
"Any news about you and my slob brother? Did you talk?" Ginny asked between bites.
Harry had to shake his head. "Nope - he went straight to bed with the curtains drawn. Actually, I don't care. If he can't be happy for us, then he can get lost. I am so not going to ditch Hermione just to make him happy," he said, Hermione smiling at him fondly for his correct answer.
"Nor would I take him up on his advances. I got my scoundrel bagged and I am not interested in anyone else," Hermione added and refocused on her breakfast. Soon, the newspapers would arrive and she wanted to be finished by then to read it in peace, so she would know about everything someone might ask her about it. That would take long enough, and Neville would certainly join them she wanted to talk a bit with him, as well, she had to be quick, since it wouldn't do to be late for class.
*** forty minutes later ***
"I didn't tell anyone to open their books, Granger, Potter. Five points from Gryffindor," Snape drawled as he stormed into the classroom, slamming the door shut in the process. Of course, although nearly everyone had their books out and open already, the Potion-Master-turned-Defence-teacher focused solely on his primary victims. Everyone else hurriedly put away or at least closed their books, lest they would be getting a lick, as well.
Harry refrained from rolling his eyes at the petty behaviour, but only because this had won him the bet with Hermione. She had thought Snape would say at least one sentence related to class before taking points off Harry. Harry had been - rightfully - convinced that Snape was still mad about earlier in the summer, and would start right away, maybe even before class had started. If Snape were still looking at them, he would wonder why the boy was smiling so contented.
But the man had already turned his back on his students, beginning to lecture one of his long-winded speeches. In fact, he had been rehearsing for that particular one for years. "Books alone won't help you against the Dark Arts," he sneered haughtily. "The Dark Arts are many, varied, ever-changing and eternal ..." Snape continued his monologue, drawling on and on for minutes.
"He seems to be nursing a semi over them," Harry whispered to Hermione while Snape had turned his back on the class, still speaking in reverence of the Dark Arts and their power and dangers. While Harry had no qualms about using dark curses, he certainly did not revel in them as Snape did just here. He even went as far as to show the class pictures of the results of various curses, seriously disturbing some of their colleagues with weaker stomachs. Hermione reprimanded his verbal lapse with a kick against his ankle, keeping everything above the table perfectly schooled.
"And although it baffles me how so many of you have managed to get into this NEWT course, I shall be equally surprised if any of you manage to pass this year. This year's topic is something not many wizards can accomplish, for most lack the power and mental discipline needed to shine in this art," Snape drawled, his gaze lingering on Harry all the time during this part of his speech. It took Harry an enormous amount of willpower not to mock the man by pouting back at him.
"Wordless casting!" he continued in an overly dramatic voice. Finally, Harry's resolve cracked and he snorted loudly at that proclamation.
"Potter! Care to share what you deem funny enough to disrupt class?" Snape hissed, instantly homing in on his victim. "And that's another five points from Gryffindor," he added silkily.
"My apologies, Professor. I was just surprised that such a simple thing would be the topic for a whole year of Defence. What's up for seventh year? No more wand movements?" Harry replied in an innocent voice, but with less than innocent intentions - he never thought that Snape would give him the opening he needed that early in the year.
Snape glared at the boy in front of him. "Proves an old proverb that you actually had it right this once, Potter. Casting without complicated wand movements, but merely a flick, is in fact the topic of seventh year. It figures that you - of all people - belittle these difficult arts - since you certainly would fail at performing them."
"It can't be that hard," Harry quipped with a glint in his eyes. Hermione had steeled her face into neutrality, but had to bite her lip mentally to avoid laughing. She had done the same training with Tonks, and while Harry was far ahead of her in those two topics, she was more than able to do it for everyday spells.
"Mister Potter, your over-inflated ego is misplaced here. But if you feel yourself up to those tasks, why don't you prove it," was the response by Professor Snape, delivered with a sneer and accompanied by snickering from the Slytherin corner.
"What's in for me?" Harry asked cheekily, causing the whole class to gasp at his boldness. He calmly stared the man into the eyes, although Tonks had it driven, drummed and hammered into him and Hermione to avoid that at all cost. Both knew that he would be able scan their surface thoughts that way without problem. Deeper scanning would need a wand movement and incantation, not even Dumbledore was that good.
When Harry had asked Tonks once to teach them Occlumency, Tonks simply gave them some books and told them to read them and practice the meditations inside over a few months while she would try to find them a Legilimencer to coach them next summer or so. At his question why they couldn't find one now and get it done, Tonks laughingly replied that he would need years before he learned something remotely useful, as it's an extremely difficult and rare art.
After they had repaired all the furniture Harry had destroyed in his rage, they sat down with Tonks and told her about his sessions with Snape last year. This recollection left the Auror on leave just shy of reporting the man for an investigation - which wouldn't lead anywhere with Dumbledore protecting his pet dog, anyway.
Going along with the plan Hermione and he had come up with overnight, Harry concentrated on thinking that it could only be so hard to learn since it was widely known what a pathetic teacher Snape was. That he would need years to teach students to blow their noses, lest anything magical. He extensively pondered the fact that Snape was little more than a cook - this was the part of the plan Harry had been looking forward to the most.
The increasingly furious look at 'Professor' Snape's face told him that his trick worked. He sneered back at the man, thinking that he would even bet his education on that he certainly could manage either of the two skills easily. 'After all, I am the Boy-Who-Lived,' Harry concluded his thoughts, wielding his personal weapon of mass destruction against Snape's ego.
"Let's make a bet, Potter!" the man suddenly spat across the room, sneering so fiercely that most students instinctively leaned away from Harry to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. "If you manage either or both of those before the end of lesson, I will give you an O for the respective year. But if not, you will opt out of my class today. Do we have a deal, Mister Potter? Is that enough in for you?"
The other students wouldn't have stared any worse if Snape and Harry had changed into pink tutus and danced the tango. Hermione found that this was the perfect time to support her boyfriend.
"Sounds great - can I join this bet?" she said, talking in an air-headed, happy way and smiling sweetly at her Professor.
The sound of so many people gasping at the same time was disconcerting. Harry would have sworn that the resulting airflow made Hermione's hair move a bit.
Now everyone was staring at Hermione, most people gaping with their jaws nearly at floor level. That Granger would throw away a chance at a NEWT like that was a completely unbelievable thing.
"Why not?" Snape bellowed, throwing his hands into the air in a gesture of pure annoyance. "Is there anyone else willing to join? Whoever wants to join in is welcome to do so," he sneered, letting his glare sweep across the students who tried to melt into their desks in order to become invisible. Harry noticed Ron glaring at him from the back of the classroom, but not making any move to join - a wise decision.
To Snape, a dream had come true. While the day had started less than perfectly, having to teach Potter first thing in the morning, it really has taken an upturn. He had made plans to stick it to the Potter whelp as soon as possible, before failing Potter in his ostensibly best subject sometime during the year. He actually had made plans to use him as test dummy as often as possibly, but this was so much better. He didn't think that he would be able to get rid of Potter and his Mudblood in the first lesson!
"Deal!" both of them said in unison. They shared a short look, and Harry gave Hermione a grin and an inviting nod. Hermione produced her wand, and with a minuscule flick, instead of the 'twirl and shoo' motion needed, her book flew into her bag. While Snape started sputtering, Harry copied her actions. Both stood, Harry accio-ing their book bags and slinging them over his shoulder before pointing his wand at the door to open it, while Hermione sweetly smiled as she conjured an apple and levitated it over to Snape's desk. She then hooked her arm into Harry's and both marched out, leaving the class to stare at an openly gaping Snape, whose left eye had started to twitch in a spasmodic way.
Hermione smiled back when Neville dared to shoot them a thumbs up from where he was sitting, while Harry noticed with a smug smirk than Ron was too shocked to glare at them anymore.
***After class***
Severus Snape, Professor of Defence against the Dark Arts and youngest Potions Master in centuries, was in a quandary. The insufferable Potter and his know-it-all Mudblood had tricked him. No way had they managed to do this on their first try. Somewhere deep inside, he had to grudgingly respect Potter for managing to set him up so thoroughly - that was very Slytherin.
While he was proud to be the biggest bastard north of the Thames - the Malfoys lived a bit south of it - no one should ever say that he didn't honour a bet. That would be a slight on his reputation, making him look like a sore looser.
Especially since he couldn't give them any other mark than an 'O' for the year with what they showed. Their little show was actually sufficient to pass the final exam, and the Educational Department would have his accreditation if he didn't clear them for NEWT after obviously having made the grade. He knew they had been out for his hide for years, with Dumbledore barely able to bridle them.
'At least, there is one small silver lining,' he thought.
ooOOoo
When Harry and Hermione sat for lunch that day, they were approached by Snape in passing. As he walked by, he wordlessly tossed two envelopes on the table while glaring daggers, before leaving for his place at the head table.
Much to their surprise, they really contained their final reports with Outstanding scores for sixth and seventh year DADA. Bewildered, they looked at each other and then at Snape, who was half-heartedly picking at his meal, looking rather disgusted, probably at what he had just done.
Harry shot a bewildered look at Hermione. He certainly wasn't prepared for the man giving up that easily. His plans contained a long fight with the man and probably a test in front of the board to get out of class.
"He must have realized that this way he doesn't have to deal with us anymore," Hermione rationalized Snape's behaviour with a shrug of her shoulders. After a moment of thought, Harry accepted that as the most probable reason.
After they had finished eating - Ron sitting farther away and his table manners out of sight made that experience much nicer - Harry gave a sigh, startling Hermione.
"You know - this day had started too good to be true, didn't it?" He said while tilting his head at something behind Hermione. As she turned around, she saw Professor McGonagall approaching.
"One snog that she has a message from Dumbledore to meet him at his office," he whispered his prophesy into her ear from behind.
"Indeed, Mister Potter," the harsh voice of his Head of House sounded before Hermione could answer. Being a cat probably transferred to her human form when it came to hearing whispered things. "While I cannot approve of your betting habits, your guess was quite correct, Mister Potter," she said. Obviously the rumours about the DADA bet had made the rounds already.
Shaking his head in a disappointed manner, Harry replied. "Sorry, Professor. Would you be so kind as to escort Hermione and me to this talk?"
"I'm afraid this isn't possible Mister Potter, the Headmaster wanted to see you immediately, alone," Professor McGonagall objected.
"I'm sorry, Professor, but this is unacceptable. We both know that this meeting has nothing to do with school, and since Hermione is my fiancée, she will accompany me," Harry said with a frown, emphasizing his decline with a resolute shake of his head. He then took a deep breath to regain his equilibrium and continued in a polite, even tone. "But I would like you to accompany us, as I'm invoking Paragraph 5a of Hogwarts Statue in relation to Headmaster Dumbledore."
Hearing the boy state this specific rule made McGonagall inhale sharply. While she had already expected that he would invoke that clause some day regarding Severus, she was surprised that Potter would use this against Albus. She knew that there was bad blood between the boy and her boss, but something like this had not occurred in Hogwarts since 1467, when the Headmaster's family was on the brink of a blood feud against the family of one student. That Mister Potter would use that ancient rules implied that the boy considered himself being in high peril with the Headmaster present. With this rule invoked, she - in her function as Potter's Head of House - was required to stand guard over the encounter, under threat of retribution if she didn't properly fulfil that role.
"I see. In that case, would you please follow me, Mister Potter? Miss Granger is of course welcome to join us," she carefully invited the young man, less than pleased with the way this was developing. "Of course Professor," Harry said with a polite nod and stood without hesitation, indicating her to lead the way while he helped Hermione gallantly to her feet.
The two teens followed their Head of House through the corridors in silence, until they found the Gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office. Approaching the statue, a fiercely frowning Professor McGonagall barked something that sounded like "Uncle Joe's Mint Balls", causing the stone beast to come alive and step aside, revealing the staircase. Harry was tempted to comment, but chose discretion over valour.
ooOOoo
"Enter!" The Headmaster's voice called out as soon as the stairway had risen to the door. The Professor and her charges filed in, finding Dumbledore sitting behind his desk, doing some paperwork. As Hermione entered right behind Harry and Professor McGonagall chose to stay as well, it caused the old man in his chair to raise an eyebrow.
"There must be a misunderstanding. I only asked for Mister Potter."
"That you did, Headmaster," Professor McGonagall replied sternly, "but Mister Potter insisted in the presence of his fiancée and me, citing Paragraph 5a."
With an audible snap, the quill in the Headmaster's hand was broken in two, before he managed to regain his self-control.
"Come again?" he asked, looking calm on the outside but hoping that this was only a case of his old age catching up with him and playing tricks on his hearing.
"Mister Potter has demanded that Miss Granger and I are present for this meeting, to ensure that no harm is dealt," Professor McGonagall repeated with a frown, clearly uncomfortable with the position she was in. Harry and Hermione could empathise with her, but they simply needed her here for the plan Remus had come up with.
Dumbledore took his time to read it carefully, his eyebrows rising as he comprehended the significance of that request. "Is this really necessary?" he asked. That the boy would use such a petty way to one-up him was unexpected.
"I'm afraid so," Harry replied evenly. Both Dumbledore and McGonagall came to notice that both students had their hands in a ready position over their wands sticking out of their sleeves. When Albus looked at the boy, the boy didn't even try to hide the fact that he refused to look at the Headmaster's face, and even Hermione quickly averted her eyes when Albus turned his head and looked at her, suddenly examining a bookshelf.
"Well, take a seat then," Dumbledore said, leaning back in his overstuffed seat. He had better to do than to argue about that stupid rule. He felt slightly irritated as they sat one after the other, obviously providing cover for each other while they sat down; as if they expected an attack any moment. His irritation rose as Minerva noticed that behaviour, and instinctively assumed a more guarded stance as well.
"First, I would like to express my sincerest congratulation on your engagement. It is always nice to see some happiness in such dark times," Dumbledore began the meeting seemingly lightly, but lacking warmth in his voice.
McGonagall was not the premier Transfiguration teacher in Great Britain for being stupid. The way she raised an eyebrow at Harry because of the way that statement had been delivered made the boy try his hardest to avoid smiling. He could not even imagine how much it must irk the Headmaster that they had tricked him into that agreement.
Dumbledore hid his frown in his beard as he reminded himself, again, that this didn't really matter to his plans. Miss Granger would do as well as any other girlfriend. Deciding to not bemoan a spilled cauldron, he steepled his hands on the table in a display of peacefulness and came to the next point.
"I must admit that I am rather disappointed in you, Harry. You had been told to stay at home, where you would be well guarded and safe," he tried to play the usually successful guilt card. Harry usually reacted well to that kind of pressure, as his upbringing had ensured.
Harry huffed loudly in reply. "Guarded, you say - that explains why Mister Diggle drew his wand on me, trying to keep me in the house by force," he said, his eyes firmly on the Headmasters steepled hands.
"He drew his wand on you?" Professor McGonagall asked promptly, surprised at the new information she had received just now.
"When I encountered Mister Diggle on my escape, he told me - after I had shown him the fresh bruises on my face, I must emphasize - that he didn't care about my wishes, I had to return into the house, or he would force me to. I had to subdue him when he went for his wand after I understandably declined to comply," Harry put forth his recollection of the event.
"I see," Professor McGonagall replied coldly, deciding to exchange a few words with Mister Diggle regarding anger management.
"Let me assure you, Harry, this was not at all on my orders," Dumbledore replied calmly, radiating his grandfatherly vibes by the ton.
"So you did not send teams of wizards after Harry to bring him back to the house against his will?" Hermione asked in a surprised voice. "I could swear that he was chased across central London by at least two Order members, trying to capture and return him," she continued, her tone gaining a mocking quality as she spoke, although it did waver a bit. Harry gave Hermione's hand a soft squeeze, which lessened the death-grip she held on his hand as this conversation went on. He knew that she must be terrified to cross the Headmaster as they did. A short squeeze in return signalled her gratitude.
"You know that it is of utmost importance that Harry spends as much time as possible inside his home, to recharge the powerful wards that protect him there," Dumbledore stated again, repeating his sole argument.
"And this allows you to hold Harry there against his will? And to order us not to write him any letters, basically abandoning him there for months?" Hermione hissed angrily at the man in front of her, staring straight at him for a moment before she quickly turned her head to stare at a portrait behind him.
Professor McGonagall was less than pleased at the rude tone of her prize student and expressed her displeasure vehemently. "Miss Granger, you will not speak to the Headmaster like that," she chided the girl. Albus chose to lean back and watch how this would turn out as the woman made herself the new target for Harry's ire.
"This is not school related, so he is just Albus Dumbledore right now, Professor," Harry said in an even tone that deflated the Scotswoman's act masterly, especially as she had to admit that he was perfectly right with his reasoning.
"He is still the leader of the Order," McGonagall replied in an attempt to defend her superior.
"An organization neither of us is a member of," Hermione reminded her sharply.
As she couldn't refute that argument, the elderly woman had briefly run out of steam and was grasping for a straw. She reverted to the prior topic, and addressed Harry again.
"Even then, it was reckless how you endangered yourself in London, and I am disappointed that you chose to attack Miss Jones, Mister Potter!"
"I attacked whom?" Was Harry's simple reply when he couldn't fathom what she referred to after a few moments of pondering the issue.
"She claimed you hurt her when she chased you in London," McGonagall explained, her eyes narrowing to a sharp look at the boy when he suddenly started to chuckle.
"This is no laughing matter, Mister Potter," she chided sharply. "Miss Jones had to spend a full day at St. Mungo's to get all the cuts and her severe concussion treated!" She felt slightly incensed that Potter made fun of such grave injuries that required such extensive treatment.
"I meant no disrespect, Professor, but I had nothing to do with these injuries - she ran into a glass door," he answered, with Hermione smiling faintly as she remembered the time Harry had told her about that. It seemed so long ago already.
Professor McGonagall's right eyebrow rose slightly as she heard the boy's version. It stayed in position as she turned slowly to look at her boss. She remembered the tale distinctively different from when Albus reported on Miss Jones' condition. Only years of practice in reading students' body languages made her notice the signs of distress on Albus that made her believe Mister Potter's version over his.
"I see, Mister Potter. I apologize for my incorrect assumption," she said in a slightly warmer tone. This warmth did not reach her eyes that still rested on Albus.
"This is getting us nowhere," Albus tried to get the conversation back on track. "Let's try an easy question. What did you do to Voldemort?"
"I don't know," Harry replied truthfully. "It might have something to do with Hermione managing to end the blood trace you had on me," he added after a moment.
Albus could practically feel Minerva's eyes burning holes in the side of his head as he tried to justify that less than light technique. "It was the safest way to keep track of you. I had to make sure that I could find you quickly if you were to leave Privet Drive. When you removed it, I had to resort to much slower methods to find you in order to bring you back to safety."
Hermione gave a snort when he said that. "That's rich, considering that you led a group of Death Eaters directly to us," she said, her voice laced with mirth as she shook her head. Harry was equally entertained by the man. He neatly played into their game, giving them precisely all the keywords Remus had predicted. Which wasn't exactly hard as Dumbledore only ever used two kinds of arguments: 'It's for your own good' and 'It's for the greater good'.
"This was an unfortunate accident," Dumbledore said dismissively, not wanting to delve into that topic. Sadly for him, the kids didn't share that sentiment.
"Sorry Professor, but to remove our disguises in the middle of Diagon Alley and shout out our names when we were the most wanted persons on Voldemort's list is more than just an accident," Harry said sourly.
Minerva had to shake her head at hearing the kid's version of that encounter. She was entirely sure that the boy had told the truth by the way he had spoken. Albus, on the other hand, had only informed the Order that the Death Eaters had suddenly showed up, and that a fight broke out. The Daily Prophet had brought a detailed article about the fight, but not about how it started. The fact that he had made a mistake and caused this episode to happen seemed to have escaped Albus when he reported to the Order. Little by little, her adamant support of Dumbledore had eroded away over the years. He had ignored her advice multiple times, and had put the school and students into harm's way more than once. He even watered down the quality of Hogwarts education with his quirky choices for Professors. Over the years, she found herself questioning her boss more and more, and it wasn't getting any better as this meeting progressed.
Not aware of the internal conflict his Deputy was warring with, Dumbledore stubbornly continued to fight his losing battle. "It would have happened anyway, you weren't safe outside of Privet Drive," he insisted, trying to beat the dead horse with a bigger stick as he was getting irritated by the way these children were conducting that talk.
"Why not? We were staying in Grimmauld Place, the only other location except for the Burrow you regularly allowed Harry to spend the summer," Hermione, who had the intros to their counterattacks learned by rote, inquired.
They agreed on this tactic, fearing Dumbledore might put too much pressure on Harry if he were alone against Dumbledore. The plan was that she would run distraction for Harry, defusing Dumbledore with quick remarks, allowing Harry to deliver the blows.
"That's correct, Hermione. And the wards on Black Manor are formidable. You might remember what Bill said when he declined your request that he and Fleur should break down the wards on the Black mansion, Headmaster," Harry caught the metaphorical ball seamlessly and went for the kill.
Dumbledore could only frown in response as it was slowly dawning on him that the boy had too much ammunition on him to pursue this kind of conversation.
Meanwhile, Minerva didn't believe her ears. That stupid Sassenach had really wanted William Weasley and his fiancée to attempt breaking the wards of an ancient Mansion? That was tantamount to suicide for a curse breaker - even with a whole team, the question would be how many were still alive after the attempt! No wonder the both of them had declined and left the country for a while.
"Anyway, your extended absence means that you will have to spend all of next summer with your relatives in order to recharge the wards," Albus stated, trying to put some pressure on Harry. The boy - who was starting to really get on his nerves with the way he childishly looked everywhere but at him - needed to be protected as well as possible in order to fulfil his destiny.
He was also well aware that the Dursleys would never allow Miss Granger to stay with the boy, so they would also serve as a tool to distance the two children from each other. Maybe the threat of separation could help Dumbledore to get the kids to cooperate with him.
Dumbledore wasn't aware of the fact that with the blood binding lifted, Harry's presence would only have a marginal effect on charging these wards. A fact both of the teens knew very well.
"That would be extremely complicated, possibly impossible even, Headmaster," Harry gave a pensive reply, smiling inwardly at the way they had back-stabbed the Headmaster's plans thoroughly.
"You see, the Dursleys are currently residing at the Queen's pleasure, and I don't think they are letting teenagers room at these facilities for summer," Hermione proceeded to turn the knife in the wound.
When Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall, both, stared at her in a thoroughly confused way, she clarified her intended meaning.
"Didn't you hear that the Dursleys have been charged and convicted of child abuse last week? Harry is not only my betrothed, but also a foster child of my parents, now. That reminds me, we will have to hand the paperwork over to Professor McGonagall tomorrow, Sweetie," she tweeted at her boyfriend. Her seemingly carefree use of a pet name helped a lot to ease the tension in Harry, who actually had to fight a chuckle. Mission accomplished, Hermione turned her attention to Professor McGonagall.
"Sorry, but it wasn't finished in time before September first, and we thought it would be more convenient to just hand it to you instead of using an owl unnecessarily. We honestly forgot to do it in all the rush of the first days," she told the flabbergasted woman, who probably hadn't heard a word of what the girl had told her.
In a way, it was shocking to see so much emotion displayed by the usually so stern woman. This revelation had been like a physical blow to her. "Abuse?" She stammered, not believing what she had just heard. Albus had admitted that the care Potter received at home was 'less then adequate', as he put it - but abuse?
"You are surely exaggerating, Miss Granger. While I knew things weren't perfect, this is a bit harsh, isn't it?" Dumbledore stated calmly. Behind his passive face, he was already thinking of ways how to have the Dursleys released from custody, at least Petunia. Vernon would probably be the harder case, and he was not of any use to strengthen the wards, as far as Dumbledore was concerned.
Harry rolled his eyes before answering. "Since they were tried and sentenced under these charges, I cannot agree to your position. They are legally convicted," he practically growled as Dumbledore had the ire to belittle what he had gone through under his watch.
"Yes, Professor. And as the judge put it, quote: I have never seen a case of systematic abuse of this magnitude before," Hermione recited, drawing the attention on her in order to give Harry some space to calm down. "I would tell you some tales about what these monsters have done, but as this would hurt Harry, I won't," she said firmly, squeezing Harry's hand while she gave him a supporting smile.
Professor McGonagall had to reach out and hold onto a shelf to avoid swaying as her legs buckled below her as she heard that. She stammered some unintelligible things, trying to find words to express her feelings about what had occurred under her watch without her noticing anything, but came up empty, as any same person would.
Dumbledore, on the other hand, proved stubborn as ever. "But why did you bring charges upon them? Was that really necessary?" He asked in his passive-aggressive way, unknowingly focusing his Deputy's ire on him as he defended the people she had warned him to place a child with so long ago. She felt a nearly painful tug in her chest as her appreciation of the Headmaster took another grave hit, putting it close to the breaking point..
Finally, she came to Harry's aid. "Albus, they got convicted - what more evidence do you need - I warned you myself back then, don't you remember?" She snapped vehemently. A part of her fury stemmed from the knowledge that he had dismissed her concern as unimportant back then, although she sadly had been right all the time.
Dumbledore looked sourly, but didn't pursue the thread of conversation any longer. He knew better than to fight an already lost battle, especially now, as Minerva obviously had sided with the kids over this issue.
"I'm afraid so," he agreed reluctantly.
"But this will seriously complicate your stay with them, come next summer. I hope that at least your aunt can be freed by then, so you can stay with her," he tried to find a way to salvage the situation and upholding the protection at Privet Drive. Harry, along with all other occupants of the room, couldn't believe his ears.
"With all due respect, Sir, are you mad? Why would I want to stay with convicted child abusers?" Harry said with a very sharp edge to his voice, but kept his eyes averted, still. McGonagall thought a moment about chiding him for that outburst, but couldn't really disapprove with the sentiment. Her own would have been nearly identical. Even Dumbledore wisely chose to ignore it, and insisted on the importance of his request, instead.
"Mister Potter, your safety demands it," he said in his concerned Grandfather voice, laying the emotion thickly. Much to his annoyance, Harry didn't have any of that.
"This is out of question - I will not return there. I do have guardians and a place to stay."
"I'd rather you reconsider this decision, but that can wait," Dumbledore chose to perform a tactical retreat. He didn't want the boy to dig in his heels and do something foolish, like taking that oath he had threatened with at Grimmauld Place's doorstep during their fights. There were other things of interest to discuss, and maybe he could finally get an answer out of the boy.
"Moving on, next question: Where did you stay this summer when you left Grimmauld Place?"
"Sorry, but this isn't any of your business," Harry replied flatly, not even bothering to cease staring out of the window.
"Harry, your safety is my business - you know of your importance to the world. I must at least confirm that you are safe there," Dumbledore probed, interrupting their moment.
Harry shook his head while chuckling. "The fact that you weren't able to even find out where I had gone to should be enough proof, don't you think? Let me assure you - I'm perfectly safe there. Again, where I spend my summer isn't any of your business, Headmaster."
"I'm making it mine," Dumbledore replied, his tone getting severely snarly. "I must insist that you tell me where you have been."
"You can insist all you want, this is a family matter," Harry pressed through his grinding teeth. Only Hermione kneading his shaking hands clamped around the armrests of his chair kept him from blowing up at his adversary. Fuming inside, he focused on a passing cloud outside of the window and mentally started counting, probably to one thousand or thereabouts. Ten wouldn't be nearly enough.
"Would you at least be so polite to look at me when I am talking to you?" Dumbledore snapped at the boy who didn't even bother to stop staring out of the window when he was getting reprimanded by him. His patience had worn thin already and he was seriously considering giving the boy a piece of his mind and browbeating him into compliance instead of trying to persuade him with sweet-talk and arguments.
"That is your problem - try finding it out yourself," Harry shouted, still looking, but now glaring, out of the window. "And I won't look at you, since I prefer my thoughts unread. So does Hermione," the boy spat venomously, which was punctuated by Professor McGonagall's gasp. To Dumbledore's surprise, Miss Granger only nodded in agreement, but kept on inspecting his bookcase, probably reading the titles.
"Is there anything school related that you want to talk about? If not, both of us would like to return to our dorm," Harry growled, his patience worn so thin he couldn't stand being in the same room with that man anymore.
Those words hit Dumbledore like a Bludger, shaking him to the core. That was the reason why the boy refused to look at him? Harry was afraid that he might read his thoughts? And Miss Granger obviously held the same belief.
His earlier belief that the old rule had only been used as an act to get a cheap shot at him was shattered beyond repair. He had thought the boy was just rebelling against adults, like any boy was bound to, but now Albus suddenly realized how much the relationship between him and Harry had deteriorated already, and how badly this would damage his plans. He needed the boy to work with him!
"Please, Harry. Why all this enmity? I admit that there has been hardship in your life that I am partially responsible and sorry for, but all I did was for the greater good!" He pleaded.
"I see," Harry said carefully. "Was it also for the greater good that when I refused to leave the safety of Grimmauld Place, you tried to get Mr. Scrimgeour to arrest me under charges of turning dark and to put me under house arrest in Hogwarts, under the Headmaster's care?" he asked in a sweet tone, the smile never reaching his eyes.
Only his many years of politics saved Dumbledore from giving his surprise away at this revelation.
"Albus! You did what?" Professor McGonagall screeched at the man she thought she knew so well. Didn't she tell him that these accusations were ridiculous when he brought them up? He didn't even tell anybody about this attempt!
"He tried to get me arrested, and put under his thumb," Harry repeated. "And I don't give a damn about what you think to be the greater good! All that it means is that I am the one to sacrifice for all others to be happy! And why I don't trust you? Because you made a lot of my things your bloody business!" Harry spat with so much disgust that the Headmaster cringed involuntarily.
Albus was flabbergasted - the boy knew about this attempt. 'But how?' it shot through his mind. Within a few moments, he had found the answer - Miss Tonks. Scrimgeour must have used that fact to gain some political capital with the boy, and let the information slip. This metaphorical cauldron was not only spilt, it was completely turned over.
'How, by Merlin's shaggy beard, do I salvage this mess?'
Lost in thought, Albus didn't stop the boy when Harry stood and left, along with his girlfriend, without being dismissed. He only winced slightly when he received a fierce glare from his Deputy Headmistress when she turned to follow her students, promising wordlessly to have a private talk with him, later.
He was too busy finding a solution for his problems. Somehow, he had to regain the boy's trust or all the plans he made for Britain's future would be moot. Deep inside, he had a feeling that this anger wasn't just about the Dursleys, and their quarrels, of that Albus was sure. He had a strong feeling that he had missed something crucial concerning Mister Potter, and this was the true root of their problem.
Maybe he should have this long overdue chat with Vector or Babbling about his broken Distanciaheadometer. It was the first of the many mysteries that surrounded Harry nowadays.
ooOOoo
The next morning, Hedwig arrived at Grimmauld Place during breakfast. Overjoyed at the early first letter, Margret removed the post from the owl's leg, while Remus procured some bacon for it.
Everyone continued their meal while Margret read the long letter. Obviously Hermione had a lot to tell for only two days absence.
"The good news first: They are well, McGonagall is apparently on their side, and the plan to deal with Dumbledore seems to have worked flawlessly," she proclaimed after a few paragraphs.
"Good," Remus remarked after a sip of his tea. "It might suffice to make Albus think long and hard about what he is doing. If he were to ease up on his control issues, he would be a valuable ally."
Tonks nodded her agreement with this while she reached for the toast.
"Might I have a minute of your time, Tonks?" Margret asked after reading the first half of the letter, interrupting the woman's fight with the toast and honey, which the tablecloth had lost utterly.
"Fire away!" Tonks replied while licking some excess honey off her fingers.
"Is it possible to take NEWT exam mid-term?"
"Actually, yes, it is. Usually, you take them at the end of seventh year, but there are lots of people out of school who apply during the year to earn diplomas, OWL and NEWT both. Why?"
"It seems that Harry has somehow tricked Professor Snape into passing him and Hermione with O's for both remaining years." Margret stated dryly. She wanted to continue but had to wait a little. Remus had gotten his tea into the wrong pipe and was currently coughing up a lung while Tonks helplessly patted his back.
Margret waited until Remus had recovered and resumed his breakfast before she began anew.
"I am not sure if I should approve of this. Classes are serious, after all. Don't they miss a lot if they don't attend those years?" Margret voiced her qualms, frowning at the general situation.
"We had a talk about that early in July, when I finally broke them on their habits of schoolkid casting. Even before we went to the island, both were performing at seventh year level, wordless and point-casting. So basically, they know all the practical stuff, except for some minor hexes and jinxes they get in sixth year. They only need some revising on the theory from the first five years and the theory portion of book six and seven. Once they're done with that, we could do the testing within a day's notice. I believe McGonagall would certainly let us escort them over to the ministry for a day during class, if needed, but I think we could arrange for a Hogsmeade weekend test. Do they need anything else?" She asked, and Margret checked the document once again.
"Yes, they ask about a list of topics they should study for the exams. Would you?" she asked, and Tonks replied with a "Yep, can do," before she had finished her question. Margret quickly finished the letter and found one last point to check.
"Oh! And Hermione inquires what forms they would need to apply for Harry's Mastery," she described the remaining contents of the letter. Unfortunately - and completely coincidentally, of course - the word 'Mastery' was uttered at precisely the moment Remus was taking a hearty bite of a scone.
This time, Remus needed a potion to recover.