Part 9
"You're avoiding me."
Harry sighed inwardly. All week Ron had thrown him looks, and huffed whenever someone else attracted Harry's attention. He bitterly resented the fact that he and Harry only shared one elective, but when he finally got a chance to talk to Harry during Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, he'd shuffled around awkwardly, seemingly expecting Harry to breach the silence between them. Now Care of Magical Creatures was almost over and Harry had enough.
"I'm not avoiding you," he told Ron. "I was waiting for you to actually say something."
"It's not easy with everyone around," Ron hissed, pointing at Hermione who stood a few feet away and quietly but intently talked with Hagrid. "Why won't you meet me alone?"
"Because I don't want to be alone with you right now," Harry said, deciding to be blunt so Ron wouldn't be able to misunderstand. "You were really out of line with Hermione, and you threatened Crookshanks. If I did the same with Ginny and Scabbers, you'd flip. If you've got to say something, you can, but it better be an apology."
Ron flushed. "Why are you always on her side?" he demanded. "You weren't like this last year!"
Harry couldn't believe the nerve. "This hasn't got anything to do with me taking sides. You're behaving like a prat, Ron. You're judgemental and a bully. If you can't see that, that's your problem, not mine. I don't need another Dudley in my life."
"But Harry-"
"Save it," Harry said angrily. "Really, just ... don't talk to me. I won't argue about this anymore."
"Fine, be that way. Traitor," Ron muttered and stomped off.
Blaise Zabini stared after him and then gave Harry a look that conveyed both his incredulity and disdain.
Harry could sort of understand that, even if it hurt to see his first friend so angry with him.
Soon after, Hagrid dismissed them, again with no homework, but at least he didn't seem so sad anymore. Whatever Hermione had said must've been a comfort.
"That didn't go well," she observed, carefully stepping around a mud puddle. Of course she'd managed to listen in even as she was having a conversation.
"Sorry about that," Harry said quietly. "I didn't want to make it worse, but Ron really pushed my buttons."
"It's hardly your fault. To be honest, I don't know what to make of it," Hermione mused as they tromped up the hill to Hogwarts.
Because of the rain last night the path was dangerously slick, making the girls especially fearful of slipping and hurting themselves. Harry solved that little problem with a little Duro at the ground, but he still offered Hermione his arm to help her along.
"Thank you," she said with a smile. "It's time for the boots, unfortunately." Picking up their previous conversation, she continued, "Ron is behaving ... erratically. Really hot and cold. If I didn't know better, I'd say he's suffering from bipolar personality disorder or something similar. Maybe a letter to his parents isn't such a silly idea after all."
"Yeah, I'm a little worried," Harry admitted. "Maybe we should talk to Fred and George first, though. Keep the big guns for last."
"Your funeral," Hermione smirked. "I'll sit that one out."
Harry gently cuffed her arm in retaliation. "Is the Paper Troupe still on tonight?" he asked. "Lavender got a Gringotts letter during lunch, but she was sitting at the Ravenclaw table so I didn't get what it's about. It's nothing bad, I hope?"
"Everything is fine, we'll meet as agreed. By the way, the Snape thing is a hot topic. We're placing bets on how many points Professor Snape will deduct from a house during class. Since we got off lightly last time, my bet is thirty points from Gryffindor. Yours?"
"You're asking me to bet on my own misery?" Harry raised an eyebrow.
"The prize are five chocolate frogs," she cajoled.
Harry snorted. "Put me down for fifty points."
They reached the top of the hill and waited for the others to pass them. Lavender and Parvati thanked them for the stone path before hurrying on. Neville was last, his hand wrapped in one of Hagrid's handkerchiefs.
"Oh Neville, that krup liked you a little too well," Hermione sighed. "Do you want me to come to the infirmary with you?"
"Nah, I know the way very well by now," Neville joked. "It's just a small bite; he didn't mean to do it. They don't get out a lot for play time and you know that they need lots of physical activity."
"Get a pass from Madam Pomfrey," Harry said. "Also, how many points do you think Snape will dock from Gryffindor today?"
"With my luck? At least a hundred," Neville replied with an eye roll. "See you in class."
Harry cancelled the Duro spell on the path before following him inside. Hermione's muttered cleaning charm on their shoes made him smile a little, and he enjoyed his amusement with the knowledge that every Gryffindor's mood would take a nose-dive during Potions.
"Don't let him get to you," Hermione whispered as they waited for the door to the classroom to open. "He doesn't deserve your anger."
"I wish it were that easy," Harry sighed. "But I'll try."
It was almost the norm that the Gryffindors collectively wished they were anywhere else but in Snape's dungeon when lessons started. Even Hermione, after only two classes so far, disliked the subject to such an extent that she barely put any effort into her notes or the preparation of her and Harry's ingredients.
Snape, of course, noticed her attitude and honed in on it like a defiance-seeking missile, picking her work apart like a vulture and taking points left, right and centre.
Not ten minutes after the bell, Gryffindor had already lost seventy points. Hermione could boast thirty, and another thirty were due to Neville's supposed tardiness - Snape dismissed Madam Pomfrey's pass with a haughty hand wave, setting it not so coincidentally on fire. Another ten minus points went to Seamus for his angry growl.
"Yup, in rare form," Harry muttered when Snape's back was turned. "Neville will win the pot at this rate."
"You dare talk in my classroom?" Snape breathed, turning around and stalking back to Harry's work bench. "After I explicitly ordered you to keep silent while you brew? Oh, but I forgot: the rules don't apply to you, Mr. Potter, do they?"
Harry couldn't even be mad about the blatant goading. "If you say so." Remembering his manners, he tacked on, "Sir."
Snape's eyes narrowed and he tried to stare Harry in the eyes. When that failed, he snarled, "Ten points for your insufferable cheek, Potter, and detention with me on Saturday."
Fighting for his composure, Harry managed to keep his blank stare on Snape's right shoulder. After warning Hermione only a couple of days before, he was very invested in keeping the man out of his head.
"No answer?" Snape sneered. "Hm, it seems like Gryffindor's golden boy was merely lacking a firm hand. There might be hope for you yet, Potter. Saturday, eight o'clock. Do not be late, or I'll double your punishment."
The hatred for Snape was like a living thing in the room. Harry was silently fuming about the injustice, and he wondered whether he could talk Dobby into messing up Snape's stores a little in retaliation.
To his great surprise, revenge was swift and sweet. Zabini, seemingly as fed up with the drama as the Gryffindors, chucked a few balled up stinging nettles into Millicent Bulstrode's innocently bubbling cauldron and then took cover.
The thick, blubbering sludge welling up from the cauldron was a thing of beauty. It was mint green, smelled like hippogriff dung, and there was coming more and more and more of it. Soon Bulstrode's whole table was covered, her shrieks a fitting musical accompaniment to the wet globbering sounds, and still there was more coming out of the cauldron. It reminded Harry of a fairy tale, the one with the pot that cooked sweet millet pap until ordered to stop.
"Everyone out!" Snape bellowed, sleeved arm in front of his hooked nose, and everyone booked it out into the corridor.
"Thanks!" Harry whispered to Zabini.
"There's no need," the boy replied just as quietly. "But you can let me sign your petition." Zabini slipped Harry a piece of parchment. There was an address on it. "For Granger's complaint. My mother won't care that her parents are muggles. Not for this."
Harry pocketed the slip and then laughed a little. "God, the smell is awful."
"It's no worse than the class itself," Zabini replied with a shrug. "The Hogwarts tuition is coming out of my trust fund and I'm done tolerating a third rate education. I've got plans for the future."
Harry thought that Zabini and Hermione might become fast friends one day, even with their different backgrounds, if he continued playing nice with the Gryffindors. Heck, even Harry himself caught himself contemplating it! But while that pleased him, he also worried a little about it.
What if Hermione finds him more interesting than me? He's rather pretty for a guy, too, and she did like Lockhart rather a lot before she knew what a fraud he is, Harry tought. And I don't think Zabini is a fraud. He placed ahead of me in the exams.
It was kind of maddening, especially since Harry had never really felt that way before.
Being the contrary bastard that he was, Snape refused to let them leave early. Instead, they wasted three quarters of an hour in the dank corridor talking among themselves until the bell rang.
"Finally," Harry sighed. Slowly, the students shuffled off, the Slytherins to their common room and the Gryffindors upstairs. "So, who won the pot? He docked eighty points, I believe."
Hermione consulted her notebook. "Lisa Turpin tied with Terry Boot. Normally, people bet for their own house, but I guess it's a lot more interesting to place bets on us." She glanced at Harry. "You won't accept the detention, right?"
"Of course not." Harry scowled. "After that business with my electives, I read the student charter, twice. Professor McGonagall has office hours in a bit and I'll have her cancel it. I'm really, really over Snape treating me like this."
"I'll come with you, as witness. I bet the others would help as well, if you need it."
"Thanks, 'Mione." Harry took Hermione's hand, not caring if anyone saw, and together they ambled to the great hall and asked Dobby for a snack to take their minds off the coming unpleasant conversation.
When they reached Professor McGonagall's office half an hour later, they were not the first to arrive.
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked Dean and Seamus. "Are you also going to complain about Snape?"
"You bet," Dean snorted. "And we're gonna protest your detention, too."
"Lavender and Parvati would've come, too, but they thought it more important to write things down when they're still fresh," Seamus added. "Snape is about to displace the dementors from the front page if he keeps that shite up."
"Then we can just go in together," Hermione said. "If that's alright with you?"
Seamus grinned. "Sure. The more, the merrier. I'm looking forward to it!"
Professor McGonagall didn't look pleased to find four of her lions in her office, and all complaining about Harry's detention.
"While I am inclined to believe your version of events, I'm afraid that the Hogwarts Charter grants Professor Snape certain rights. If he chooses to exercise his right to correct unacceptable behaviour with a detention, there's not much I can do."
"Yes, you can," Harry said stubbornly. "Because the detention is unwarranted, and I've got a whole bunch of witnesses. Heck, I bet even Blaise Zabini from Slytherin would back me up. I talked in class, fine, but that usually costs us five points with other teachers. It's way out of line to give detention for the first offence, and I won't accept it. Even if you decide not to help us, I won't go, and you can't make me."
"Yes, I can, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said through pinched lips.
"You really can't," Hermione said almost gently. "In such a case, the board of govenors would get involved, and I hate to say it, but do you really think Madam Longbottom wants to be back so soon, over such a matter?"
McGonagall's nostrils flared. "You're skirting the line of what is appropriate, Miss Granger."
"Snape has passed that line several years ago," Harry said boldly. "He's unfair; he burned Neville's hall pass from Madam Pomfrey, for Pete's sake, and docked thirty points for tardiness. In fact, I'd like to protest the whole point loss today, because we don't deserve any of it."
For a moment, Professor McGonagall was utterly still. Then, her face paled dramatically, only to flush angrily a moment later. "I see." She took a deep breath. "In the future, do remember to tell me the whole story, yes?"
"Well, I wanted to respect Snape's right to discipline us," Harry said, "but he went too far."
"The students are placing bets on how many points they'll lose in their classes," Hermione added. "And also, the lessons themselves are a disappointment. I expect better from a potions master."
"I'd be happy with just a human being for a teacher," Seamus muttered. "Sorry, Professor, but it's the truth."
Professor McGonagall opened a drawer and took out two sheets of parchment. "This is the cancellation form for detentions. Before I sign it, I'll accompany you to your detention with Professor Snape and get his version of events," she said. "In case I decide against your protest, you'll have to involve the headmaster. This form is for your formal appeal. As we all know that he'll probably back Professor Snape, I propose sending a note to the board of govenors at the same time and letting the headmaster know about it after the fact. It's unpleasant, but it might be the warning shot Professor Snape needs." Her glare softened and she sighed. "You must know that I'm deeply unhappy about how things have been going these last two years. I'll do my very best to support you. I can only do that, however, if you're telling me the whole story. I won't accept cherry picking. Are we clear?"
"Yes. Thank you, Professor. That's all we need," Harry replied.
They took their leave, not completely happy as Professor McGonagall hadn't said anything about the lost points, but content with the knowledge that they had a recourse if Snape somehow managed to convince her to let the detention stand.
As the Paper Troupe would only meet after dinner, Harry and Hermione excused themselves and went to the Come And Go Room. There, a comfortable sofa and a fire in the fireplace invited them to put their feet up and relax. Somehow, Dobby noticed and popped in with fruit and tea, but he didn't stay for a little chat.
Hermione cuddled up next to Harry. "Do you think Professor Dumbledore will try to force you to go to detention?"
"I'm almost sure he will," Harry replied glumly. "I have no idea what he can or can't do as my magical guardian. He's just my guardian by proxy, so that's something at least, but it's kind of hanging over my head."
"You can find out. Write the ministry, they'll have to tell you. If they don't, you can raise a stink." Hermione grinned. "And didn't Colin say that a lawyer would be a good idea?"
"I'm on it," Harry confessed. "I guess people will mostly remember me as That-Unpleasant-Boy-Who-Sued-Everyone."
"Everyone who deserved it," Hermione corrected and giggled. "I'm looking forward to that. Surely that's worth a headline or two in the Daily Prophet. Although ... can Dumbledore stop it?"
"I don't know. But I've got a few aces in my sleeve if he tries." Harry put his arm around her shoulders. "Let's not worry about that right now. I'm more interested in not having to spend any time with Snape. At all, if possible."
"You and about every other student in this school," Hermione agreed dryly. "The whole place is a farce. I'm glad that the pretty veneer has worn off after only a couple of years. I can't believe how enamored of everything I was."
"I wasn't any better, but I'll tease you about Lockhart until the day you die," Harry smirked.
Hermione snorted. "I'll even let you. Good lord, that was embarrassing. I'm just glad that Professor Lupin is such a good teacher."
"Do you think we'll miss classes on the days he's turning into a werewolf?"
Hermione shook her head. "Not if the headmaster can help it; I know for a fact that parents and teachers alike were up in arms after Lockhart. The fifth and seventh years really needed someone competent to bring them up to speed. Did you know that the students had to take their OWLs and NEWTs independently during the holidays, because Dumbledore cancelled all exams? That's not cheap at all, and Hogwarts had to reimburse everyone for it. It's the only reason I can think of for Dumbledore to allow this. As much as I like Professor Lupin, and as much as I trust the teachers to keep us safe ... he's still a werewolf."
"I wish there was a cure," Harry said softly. "He doesn't deserve being treated like a leper."
"No, he really doesn't. He's one of the nicest people I've ever met," Hermione murmured. "Maybe there'll be a cure in the future. Hector didn't find one, but I read something about a potion in his notes that allows werewolves to at least remember themselves after the transformation. Apparently it was a huge thing back in the seventies."
"Then why are werewolves still a problem?" Harry shifted and pulled Hermione even closer. "If everyone gets the potion, they're safe, aren't they?"
"Not really. It was hellishly difficult to make, and also expensive then and I can't imagine that this has changed. The government refused to pay for it, and werewolves obviously don't get good jobs in the wizarding world, so can't afford to hire a potioneer. At least, I assume they don't. Professor Lupin's clothes are a little shabby." She huffed. "It's discrimination; those people are wizards and witches, first and foremost. They paid taxes before they got turned and everything. But social justice seems to be a foreign concept in Great Britain."
"I wonder why Professor Lupin didn't just leave. There must be countries with better opportunities," Harry said. Without consciously thinking about it, his fingers began playing with Hermione's long hair.
"He'll have his reasons," Hermione replied. She sighed contentedly. "This is nice. How long until dinner?"
"We've got half an hour, or until my arm falls asleep," Harry grinned. "You're almost purring, did you know that?"
"Don't tell anyone, but I think I kept a tiny bit of the cat I transformed into last year," Hermione mumbled. Getting braver, Harry's hand massaged her neck and the base of her skull. "Oooh, yes, just like that."
Fascinated, Harry watched goosebumps appear on her arms, and her happy little wiggles against him made him blush.
Far too soon, it was time for dinner, and after that for the meeting of the Paper Troupe.
"Welcome, new faces," Lavender greeted Harry and Luna Lovegood, a slight, blond girl from Ravenclaw Harry hadn't ever consciously noticed before, with a distinctly bossy air. To complete the boss lady image, Lavender had a yellow pencil behind one ear and another in her hand. "Let's be quick: Snape. Who wants to tackle that one? He'll bite back, so be sure."
Both Hermione and Dean raised their hands immediately and the topic was handed over to them. Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet muttered an apology; with the OWLs hanging over their head they didn't dare act against Snape, no matter how much they wanted to.
"Keep an eye on the situation with Harry's detention," Lavender said, making a note on her parchment. "It'll interest the whole school whether he got out of it, and even more importantly, how. Next: Buckbeak."
Here, Harry raised his hand and was assigned the story together with Seamus. Colin eagerly promised to provide a very flattering picture of the hippogriff.
"It'd be even better if you could fly him, Harry," Colin said. "To show everyone that he's not dangerous."
"It'd look quite spectacular, but we shouldn't," Hermione cautioned him. "As long as the whole thing is uncertain and it's Malfoy's word against Hagrid and ours, we shouldn't fan the flames. But speaking of Hagrid, I managed to talk to him today during class, and he said that he hasn't told his friend about Buckbeak's hearing yet. He's ashamed and afraid, so I offered to write an open letter for him and have it signed by as many students as we can rally. I also told him that he really needs to send a personal letter so his friendship won't suffer. He agreed and thanks us very much for our support."
Lavender nodded. "Great, then let's get to it. Send it with the fastest owl once everyone has signed. We'll print the letter as well, to show people that there are many witnesses, and that we're prepared to speak out. Parv, hit them with the dementors."
Parvati opened a large binder. "It's still our most important story, Snape and Buckbeak notwithstanding. This is everything we have collected so far. Unfortunately we don't have any photos, but I think that the witness reports speak for themselves. Madam Pomfrey allowed me to interview her, as did Professor Lupin. I tried to get some of the aurors to talk, but apparently the Ministry has placed a gag order after the first article appeared in the Prophet. None of them will correspond with us."
Harry guessed that she was flipping through the statements of Hogwarts students for his and Luna's benefit. "Well, that will make them look even more stupid, won't it?" he asked. "And what about Sirius Black? He's the reason the things were out and about in the first place."
Hermione nodded. "It's an interesting case and I'll write an article about him. It won't be much, but maybe we're on to something and can follow up."
"I'd like to help with that," Alicia Spinnet said. "Maybe we can't do something about Snape right now, but writing the Ministry and trying to dig up stuff is right up my alley. Fred and George will help as well, and Lee's got an aunt in some office. He can probably convince her to do some snooping."
"Yes, that'd be wonderful. Thank you, Alicia. Would you be alright with a short interview, Harry? He's your godfather, you should have some say."
"Yeah, I'd like that."
Lavender sighed. "This is far too much explosive material for just one edition, but our sponsors only agreed to a monthly publication, so we'll just have to deal with it. You've got your marching orders, guys, don't disappoint me. Remember: who, what, where, when, how, why, and where did you get the info. Keep it as short as possible - the average attention span of the reader is less than two minutes per article. We editors will proof everything you submit, so don't worry about outing sources, but try to avoid naming them if they want to stay anonymous because no one is perfect and mistakes happen."
"What's my job?" Luna asked in a light, dreamy voice. She had a slightly faraway look in her eyes.
"Oh, of course, I'm sorry, Luna. We'd like you to contact your dad and ask whether he'd like to buy some or all articles of our paper. He's got some readers and we'd appreciate the help in getting word out."
Luna nodded. "I can do that. How much would you like in payment?"
Lavender lowered her voice a little. "Tell him to contact a goblin named Fandar. He'll have a contract ready." When she noticed Harry looking, she coloured. "We're doing it right, yeah?"
Harry grinned. "I'm very impressed so far."
"Yes, well, you'll have to cut us some slack because you'll have to provide an interview here and there, since you're involved in some of the messes that are going on right now," she replied. "People will buy the paper because of you, and what's even more important, they'll finally see how dangerous things are here. When not even you are safe at Hogwarts, then who is?"
That was something Harry could live with, but he had absolutely no scruples demanding a say before any articles about him were printed.
"I'm not a cash cow, and if you turn the student paper into a gossip rag, I'll do my best to make you regret it." Harry looked intently at Lavender. "I'm not joking. I'm looking for a lawyer right now to get those stupid children's books out of the bookstore and I'm not above setting him on you."
Lavender swallowed, but nodded. "Of course. Hermione already advised us to set up a charter, with ethic guidelines and stuff. We won't disappoint you, I promise."
"It's not entirely selfish," Harry tried to console her. "I can't imagine forcing people to read dumb everyday stuff about my life. We've got much more important things to do."
"True. So, everything clear?" When everyone in the group nodded, Lavender dismissed them.
The three Gryffindor chasers left, but Luna stayed to write a letter to her father, and Seamus and Dean decided to get the easy part of their articles out of the way. The seven most important questions were quickly answered, all that remained to do was to fill in facts and write everything up in readable form.
"We could get your interview for my story about Black out of the way as well," Hermione offered quietly.
"I'll have to think about it for a bit first," Harry replied apologetically. "I don't want him to get in trouble if he's really innocent, you know."
"Alright. Lavender gave us one week for the rough drafts. We can do the interview anytime, just let me know when it's good for you."
"Thanks, 'Mione." Harry smiled at her. "At least the article about Buckbeak will be done soon. We've already got the whole thing together."
"All we need are a few quotes from our classmates and Colin's photo," Seamus said. "Then, we write it up prettily and voilà."
"I'm looking forward to it," Hermione said sincerely. "I think the paper will benefit from different writing styles. That'll make it harder for critics to make us out as someone's puppet. I don't even know what kind of trouble that could cause."
"They'd do that to students?" Seamus asked, appalled. He shook his head. "Man, I never notice this stuff."
"It's sad but after the whole Sirius Black business, I'm not trusting the Ministry with anything." Hermione drew the boy's piece of paper towards her and quickly read over it. "Oh, nice touch with the bit about Buckbeak's mysterious owner. Here, that's his name, Hagrid told me during class. I'll have to double-check the spelling, but that's one more bit done. I'll hopefully find out more about him over the weekend."
"How?" Dean asked.
"I have my ways," Hermione said mysteriously. "Anyway, good start! Mind the spelling and make it a bit more personable, so people will relate to Hagrid instead of Malfoy. Not Rita Skeeter level personable, though, okay?"
All three boys looked so affronted that Hermione burst out laughing.
On their way back to Gryffindor Tower, Hermione kept Harry back and murmured, "I wanted to ask whether I could borrow Dobby to find Hagrid's friend. I've got his name, and we know that he's rich and owns a lot of magical creatures, but not even Hagrid knows where he lives because his property in Greece is apparently unplottable."
"You can ask him," Harry said. "If anyone can find the man, it's him. Good thinking."
"Let's hope that the topics for our paper won't always be that interesting," she joked, "or that international. We'd need an owl for research, or even a newspaper elf for errands if that were the case."
Harry grinned. "A house elf just for that would be pretty awesome."
Curfew was upon them when they entered the common room, so they went up to their dorms without delay.
In bed, Harry realized that he'd only have two classes on the next day. The thought both elated and worried him, because while he would have more time to take care of things, he'd also be busy with said things.
Better get it out of the way fast, he thought. I'm sure Sharptooth will send me the information on the Gaunt family, and I should tell someone about Slytherin's library, and the detention with Snape. I wish Sirius could come here sometimes. And Brady.
He scowled, and when his scar didn't begin to hurt like it used to, he scowled some more.
It took a while to fall asleep.
oOo
As expected, the morning classes on Friday passed quickly, as both Lupin and Flitwick's lessons were practical. For the first time since finding his second wand, however, Harry experienced some difficulty. It was nothing major, merely a dip in power when it should've been steady, but it was concerning him.
Yet another topic to talk about with Brady, he thought with a sigh. It was tempting to just use the other wand. Knowing that he was actually training his core helped, but the uneasy feeling remained until the bell rang.
During lunch, Ron managed to sit close to Harry. "So, the Quidditch try-outs are tomorrow," he said as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, ignoring Hermione's forbidding frown.
"I know," Harry retorted without looking up from his stew.
"Since everyone can try out, I thought I'd give it a shot."
"Good for you," Harry murmured.
"So, I wanted to ask whether I can borrow your broom for that. It's loads better than the school brooms. I'd have a much better chance."
"Maybe you would, yeah. It's not a good idea, though," Harry said and waited out Ron's immediately rising angry flush.
"Why? Because I could actually make the team?" Ron demanded.
"Yes, exactly." Harry bit back a sigh. Where Ron got the idea that he'd even help him out after his appalling behaviour was beyond him, but apparently he wouldn't have any peace until they'd entertained half the great hall with their argument.
"I knew it! The great Harry Potter is afraid that his best friend could get a place in the spotlight as well!" Ron's freckles stood out on his angry face.
Harry's mouth dropped open in surprise. "What spotlight?"
"Maybe you should shut up now, Ron," one of the twins advised before Ron could shout out what he meant.
"You shut up," Ron snarled back instead. "You're just as bad as Potter!"
"Harry just tells you how it is," Hermione snapped. "For all that you're so good at strategic thinking, you forget that there's just one broom! Even if Harry loaned it to you, what if you actually make the team? Of course, you'd have to be better than Wood, first, but that's neither here nor there."
"It could happen." Ron glared at her.
"Fine, let's say it does. What broom would Harry ride, then? He can't be seeker on a school broom, he'd be way too slow. And as Professor McGonagall said, there's no money for better brooms for the whole team. In fact, she bought that broom privately to get the Gryffindor team even with the other teams."
"Keepers need to be fast, too," Ron insisted. "Also, Harry might not make the team. McGonagall might give the broom to whoever is the keeper."
"I don't think so." Hermione barely hid the scorn in her voice. "The new seeker would get the broom, because usually the seekers win the games."
"You don't know that!"
"I know the statistics because you badgered all of us with them," she said, exasperated. "Out of a hundred games, ninety-six are won by the seekers. The rare quaffle-winners hardly matter in comparison, don't you think? If anything, the chasers should get better brooms before the keepers, because they're flying just as much, and as fast, as the seekers. And the beaters too, of course."
"You're twisting my words!" Ron shouted.
"She doesn't do anything of the sort," Fred snapped. "She's telling you facts. It's not her fault that you don't like them."
"I'll talk to McGonagall," Ron growled, getting up. "It's not fair that Harry always gets the best of everything."
"For fuck's sake," Lee Jordan muttered to the twins. "Your brother will ruin us if he keeps that up. We're already last in the running for the house cup."
"No idea what's wrong with him," George said, watching Ron's stomp from the great hall with narrowed eyes. "He's been acting out since school started."
"We'll find out what's going on," Fred added.
They excused themselves and followed Ron.
"I'm sorry," Harry sighed. "I can talk to Professor McGonagall and ask her to rotate the broom, if anyone wants to use it during games."
"Oh no, you won't," Katie said firmly. "It was perfectly alright of her to give it to you. We chasers are good and we know it, but we've trained together for years on our brooms. If one of us suddenly got a better broom, we'd have to work hard to make up for the difference in speed and agility, and we simply don't have the time for that."
"No, you don't!" Oliver Wood shouted from his place with the other seventh years. "No more drama, Potter!"
"Weasley's just jealous," Angelina said and shrugged. "That's tough, but he'll get over it if he wants to keep any of his friendships."
Harry wasn't so sure that Ron really wanted to keep his friends. Right now he was really doing his level best to scare them all off. Even Percy was looking mortified, and he usually avoided his siblings' shenanigans unless they warranted the loss of house points or detention.
Feeling a little depressed, Harry let Dobby pop him to the Come And Go Room after lunch. The house elf served hot cider and a small portion of hot vanilla pudding with elf berry compote to cheer him up, and then presented Harry with a small stack of mail and two shrunken boxes.
"It be good distraction," Dobby said when Harry sighed. "Steward Sharptooth be saying that Harry Potter sir be reading letters first."
"Alright then." Harry took a bite of his pudding before accepting the first envelope. "Oh, wow, this one's got personnel information in it. Let's see ..."
Quickly pushing his anger at Ron aside, Harry read the applications of eight witches and wizards. They were of all ages and walks of life, which made choosing only three difficult. In the end, Harry decided to support an elderly lady without close family and in need of income, a young man who wanted to stay for a couple of years to gain experience in the hotel business, and a middle-aged, resolute looking woman with an impressive resume. They'd be the human representatives of housekeeping, repairs and maintenance, and administration respectively. A young man, whose magic felt quite similar to Healer Williams' became the new in-house doctor. With nearly identical training and work experience, it was an emotional decision, but one Harry felt justified in making. If Sharptooth didn't approve, the candidates wouldn't have made it this far.
Harry put his three choices in an envelope, sealed it and set it aside for delivery.
Next came a letter from Sirius. This was unusual, since they had the journals to communicate, and so Harry cautiously opened it, in case it was bad news.
It wasn't bad news.
At least, not for Harry.
"He chose a lawyer," he told Dobby, eagerly reading the rest of the short missive. "His name is Lawrence Walker, and apparently he's a Master of International Law. I don't know what that means, exactly, but it sounds serious. He'll represent Sirius in Italy. His partners will take care of my issues."
"Harry Potter sir's dogfather be wanting to sue everyone," Dobby agreed. "He be telling Dobby that he be putting whole firm on retainer. Harry Potter sir's dogfather be saying that Walker, Stone & Finch be really earning their exorbitant fee in the next few years."
Despite himself, Harry laughed. "Oh god. The one who's apparently responsible for my personal stuff is Finch. I guess he's the one who'll negotiate the contract with Colin, then. And Stone will sue everyone that needs suing. Sirius' words, not mine. She'll be busy, then."
"Harry Potter sir's dogfather be choosing well," Dobby said. "He be knowing what he be about."
"I get that feeling, yes." Harry picked up the last envelope. "This is probably about the Slytherin stuff. I don't really want to look."
"Harry Potter sir not be needing to look today," Dobby said. "But it be better to get things over with."
"Yeah, you're probably right. I don't want it hanging over my head all weekend." Apprehensive yet determined, Harry opened the envelope and pulled the papers out. "It's much less information than anticipated, at least."
Quickly, he flipped through all the pages, knowing what he'd be discovering in them, but paling anyway when it was confirmed that Tom Riddle was the last remaining member of the Gaunt family. An old uncle, Morfin, had died in Azkaban several years ago.
"I'm not gonna have that guy in my family," he said tightly and threw the papers down as if they were venomous spiders. Hastily, he grabbed Sirius' journal instead.
September 10th, 1993
Sirius,
I received the inheritance test for Slytherin's family. Tom Riddle is the only member left. But I don't want him. You mentioned being cast out - it was horrible and unfair, but this is Voldemort and I don't want him in the family.
Help, please!
Harry
Barely a minute later, writing appeared on the page.
Harry,
Calm down. I knew, and since Voldemort is already sort of dead, I didn't want to stress you out.
As to casting someone out of the family: that'll have to be done in ritual. People get angry all the time, and say things they don't mean. It takes a month to prepare, and will tax you magically, even if the one being cast out deserves it.
Of course I'll help you with it. I'll send instructions and material for the ritual, if you want to do it at Hogwarts. Sharptooth anticipated your reaction and asked me to warn you that Dumbledore might be able to feel the magic being used in that case, even if you do it in the Chamber of Secrets. That would harm you in several ways, so please think carefully about it.
In my opinion, you can just wait until you come home for the holidays, even if your personal preparation for the ritual will have to be done at Hogwarts. Healer Williams, Sharptooth and your elf friends would be on hand to support you, not to mention the rest of Gringotts and myself. I know that you worry, and that your magic is pushing you to act. It's a lesson in compromise and self-care, one I hope you'll learn soon, because your family magic will often demand things from you before you're mentally or emotionally ready. Just because you're physically able to act doesn't mean that you understand what it means.
Be careful. I love you.
Sirius
Harry drew in a shuddery breath. His eyes misted over and the muttered a curse. "Sirius is right, Dobby, I should wait, but it feels so wrong to keep Riddle in the family that long. It's intolerable."
"Harry Potter sir's family magics be strong," Dobby squeaked. He fretfully pulled at his ears. "Dobby be seeing it all around Harry Potter sir. It be agitated."
Slumping in his chair, Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll have to push back, then, but what if I can't?"
"Harry Potter sir be needing work," Dobby decided and floated the first of the two boxes onto the desk. "These be ward stones. Sharptooth be saying that Harry Potter sir only be needing to bond with the stones. They be Malijar's Gift, from the same vein as Harry Potter sir's stone on Potter's Field."
"Oh, really?" That cheered Harry up on a level he didn't really understand. "Then I'll get going, but I need to answer Sirius first, or he'll worry."
Sirius,
I'll wait for Yule, even if it's gonna be really, really hard. The Dark Git murdered my parents and the magic wants him gone. Please send the stuff along I'll need to prepare for the ritual. I'm guessing that means cleansing and fasting? Where will we do the ritual? At Gringotts? Or can you build a circle at home? I didn't get to it, just like the brewing I'd wanted to do. Why is there so much stuff to learn?!
Thanks for your help. I miss you!
Harry
P.S.: I'll bond with the ward stones for the pension now, so don't worry if I'm not answering right away.
Harry put all of his things back into his bag and placed it on the floor. With Dobby's help, he took out all the ward stones from their box. The main ward stone was much smaller than Harry's stone on Potter's field, but it still hummed with energy.
"Hello," Harry said, delighted. "It's like you're really here!"
If a stone could project pleasure, this was surely doing it. The energy warmed and pulsed eagerly, reaching out for Harry and snagging the boy's magic in a soothing embrace.
"I still remember the spell for the bonding," Harry confided. He put his hand on the stone and closed his eyes. "I hope you're doing well in our garden."
"Here be Harry Potter sir's athame," Dobby squeaked and offered it. "Dobby be sanitizing the blade."
"Thank you."
Very reluctantly, Harry took his hands off the stone. Quickly, he cut himself and pressed his hand back, relishing in the welcoming hot rush through his body. The spell glowed in his mind and he had no idea if he actually spoke it out loud, but the shift in the connection between him and Malijar's Gift was profound, so the bonding had happened without any issue.
"I'm glad you'll be helping Dobby and Betty in France," Harry said, basking in the magic. "You and your little friends." He laughed at the insistent pushing against their combined aura. "I better bond with them too. I didn't know you guys could feel jealous!"
One perimeter ward stone after the other received its drop of blood and a small communion. If the experience weren't so invigorating and pleasant, Harry would've probably doubted his sanity. There seemed to be a sort of awareness to the stones, not to mention differing moods. It was especially strange because the stones all came from the same source.
"And that's all of you done," Harry murmured in satisfaction and set the last of the seven times seven little stones on his desk. All their mithril veins were glowing like the most beautiful opal fire.
Then, a small, indignant push against his ankle made him look down. His bag rattled a little, making Dobby hop back a step in surprise.
"Oh! Oh, I forgot one. I'm so sorry!" Harry took Sharptooth's gift out of his book bag and patted it consolingly. "I didn't know that you wanted to do that with me. Hold on." He took the newly sanitized athame from Dobby and gave himself another small cut. "I'd be very happy to bond with you."
He pressed the drop of blood against the barely palm-sized piece of rock and tried to hug it with his magic. It hugged back fiercely, almost scoldingly, and accepted the bond like it couldn't wait for another second. That feeling of security that had embraced him first in the cottage and then on Potter's Field once more bloomed behind Harry's breastbone and streamed through and out of him like a river of sunshine. It stole his breath and made him indescribably happy. What was more, he could suddenly feel a presence in the back of his mind. It took a moment to parse out that he was actually sensing Betty and Sirius in Potter Cottage, and a few small life forms besides as well. Potter's Field was a magical mess as usual, but it was his mess, and it greeted him joyfully.
Harry laughed. "Yeah, guys, I love you, too." He pushed his happiness at the unexpected gift into the bond, into that feeling, and gasped when the presences startled. A second later, one was missing from the cottage and reappearing right on the table in front of him.
"Harry Potter sir be feeling Betty!" the small elf cried. She surged forward and hugged Harry around the neck. "It be so good to feel Harry Potter sir!"
"You can come visit me any time," Harry told her, carefully returning the embrace. The little love fest was making him dizzy, but in a really good way. "You must tell me when you need something, even if it's just a hug. Alright? I'm always good for that."
"Betty will," she promised. Her blue eyes then went to Dobby. "You be here too long, Dobby. Hoggywarty elves be getting impatient."
"Wait, what?" Harry sat up.
"Dobby be telling Harry Potter sir that Hoggywarty not be place for Dobby," the elf admitted, shame-faced. "But Harry Potter sir be needing Dobby, and Hoggywarty elves be very good at tolerating Dobby's presence for a little time. It be taxing them to keep secret from Dumblydore, but they be doing it because they be liking Harry Potter sir."
"Oh no, I didn't know that." Slowly, the euphoria ebbed away. "What can we do? I don't want you to get in trouble."