Part 10
Shortly before dinner the common room was a bustling hive of activity. Out of habit, Harry glanced at the messenge boards, taking in the completely filled out attendance list for the Patronus Club, the notice about the first Hogsmeade weekend, and the usual information about curfews, the prefects, and Professor McGonagall's office hours. New was the COMING SOON - Open Slots For Student Newspaper - Big Announcement TONIGHT! note on bright yellow paper, with Lavender and Parvati's names as contacts in small print underneath.
"They'll really do this at dinner?" Harry asked, sitting down next to Hermione and holding out his hand for Crookshanks, who was wallowing on her lap, to give him a high-five. "I can already hear at least one person groaning."
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed when the half-kneazle actually tapped Harry's palm with his paw. "When did you teach him that?"
"Just this morning. He's smart!" Harry grinned and shook Crookshank's paw. "How was your day?"
"Exhausting. I worked on the articles about Snape and Sirius Black, reviewed the goblins' contract for photography and talked it over with Colin, and lastly I managed to call Dobby and he agreed to go looking for Hagrid's friend."
"Darius Papageorgiou," Harry said and laughed a little. "Impressive name!"
"He's an impressive man, if Hagrid told me the truth about him. Anyway, Dobby will hopefully be back soon. I already feel guilty for asking for such a huge favour."
Harry put his arm around her. "It's okay, 'Mione. He's capable of saying no if he doesn't have the time or just doesn't want to get involved. As long as he has a choice, it's alright."
"Thank you, Harry." She snuggled against him and sighed with contentment. "I can't believe how much has been going on this year already. By the way, has Professor McGonagall talked to you about missing History classes yet?"
"Nope." Harry carefully shrugged so as not to disturb her comfortable position. "I have no idea if Binns even notices when someone skips it. If he doesn't, I'll take it!"
The long hand of the clock above the fireplace moved forward and Harry took another minute to just breathe and enjoy being with Hermione, before saying, "Say, what are you doing next Sunday?"
Hermione turned her head and quirked an eyebrow. "Getting older. Other than that, not much yet. Why?"
Blushing slightly, Harry swallowed. "I, uh, wanted to do something for your birthday, but I wanted to let you choose. We could have a party with our friends, or we could go and be alone. For a," he lowered his voice, "date. Whatever you like is fine."
Hermione sat up, eyes shining. "You'd do that for me?"
"Of course." Harry smiled. "So, what will it be?"
Chewing on her lower lip, Hermione asked, "Would it be greedy to ask for both? I really rather like having breakfast with you, but I never really had a party with friends, either ..."
Harry tutted at himself for not realizing that there really wasn't any need for her to choose, the day being a Sunday and all. "Sure, yes! Great idea, actually! So, breakfast together and in the afternoon cake and a party with everyone?"
She beamed, making Harry feel decidedly wobbly even while sitting. "That sounds wonderful. Thank you so much!" Happily, Hermione kissed him on the cheek and cuddled back against his side.
"Mate, what was that about?" Seamus asked and plopped down on the sofa across from them.
"Harry is throwing a birthday party for me next Sunday," Hermione said, still smiling brightly. "You're invited, of course."
"Thanks for the notice," Seamus replied with a wince. "I've no idea what to give you for a present, except stuff for studying. Any hints?"
"You don't have to give me anything," Hermione said. "Just come to the party if you want. I like spending time with you this year. And Dean as well."
"Aw, Hermione. Way to make a bloke feel bad. I know I was a tosser to you and Harry last year ... Sorry about that, honestly."
"Thanks for apologizing," Hermione said softly. "That means a lot."
A few yards behind Seamus, Ron was sitting with Ginny and losing badly at Exploding Snap. Harry wouldn't even have paid attention if the sudden lack of explosions hadn't alerted him. Ron was staring at him and looking annoyed, but what really stuck in Harry's craw was the open hostility on Ginny's freckled face, although she schooled her expression quickly.
I guess she's really not over her stupid crush, yet, he thought, involuntarily drawing Hermione a little closer. What am I going to do about the party? I guess we're having it here, so how do I keep them from ruining it for 'Mione? I can't very well exclude them; there'd never be any peace in Gryffindor ever again.
Not that Harry actually expected Ron and Ginny to try and ruin Hermione's birthday, but the last two weeks hadn't been great by any stretch of the imagination and he couldn't help but plan for the worst.
Maybe I'll put up a note on the board and also tell Professor McGonagall. She might look in and discourage anyone who has a problem with Hermione having fun with her friends.
The clock chimed the dinner hour and the whole house jostled to get out of the portrait hole. Lavender and Parvati were already gone, no doubt setting up their presentation in the great hall.
"Do you know the name of the paper already?" Harry whispered in the near silence.
Hermione shook her head. "I left it to them; they deserve the honour."
The students at all tables were looking with rapt attention at the podium, where Lavender, Parvati, and Professor McGonagall were standing. A blackboard was floating above them, a piece of chalk hovering and just waiting for the order to write something down.
"Students, a moment of your time, please," Professor McGonagall called when the last stragglers had sat down. "As you undoubtedly know, one student took it upon herself to found the first ever student newspaper of Hogwarts - Gryffindor's own Lavender Brown!"
The Weasley twins started the applause and most of the students quickly followed, until the noise was almost deafening. The girl in front blushed and curtseyed in pleased embarrassment.
After a minute of that, Professor McGonagall once more motioned for silence. "There was quite a bit of planning involved to get this newspaper up and running so quickly, but we managed. It is my great pleasure to announce that this students newspaper will be independently run by you, the students. Gringotts has agreed to sponsor your newspaper, and I'll be acting as Hogwarts' liaison. As long as this paper exists, the editorial staff and all of its freelancing supporters, as well as the school liaison, will be required to adhere to a charter and swear an oath to that effect. Information on that will be made availabe after dinner is over."
"Have you sworn your oath already, Professor?" Lee Jordan called into the expectant silence.
"As a matter of fact, I have," Professor McGonagall replied. "You'll find the names of all sworn participants in the newspaper's work rooms, which you can find on the third floor, not far from Professor Lupin's classroom. And now I'll cede the floor to Miss Brown for further information."
Once more, clapping and hooting echoed through the great hall.
"Hello, and thank you," Lavender said. She was visibly nervous, but also determined. "The most important thing to you will probably be the name of our newspaper, so let me present to you without further ado the ..." She waved at Parvati, who tapped her wand to a piece of parchment in her hand.
Immediately, the piece of chalk began writing in big, bold letters, "HOGWARTS HEROLD" and the students went wild. Shouts of approval and heavy thumping on the wooden tables made Harry's ears ring for several moments.
"Our first edition will be ten standard newspaper pages long and will be free of charge for Hogwarts students," Lavender called over the noise. "Your parents and whoever else might wish to buy an edition will be charged two knuts. Those proceeds will go to Gringotts and be invested in more and better supplies for the newspaper. We will publish monthly. Should there be more things to report, we'll adjust the schedule accordingly."
Now Parvati stepped forward. "Owing to the fact that running a newspaper is hard work and often stressful, the Hogwarts Heroldwill count as a school club and be eligible for extra credit in several subjects. For more information about that, please see the message boards in your common rooms after dinner." She smiled and waved at her fidgeting sister at the Ravenclaw table, which earned her a few laughs. "Suggestions leading to improvements to the running of the paper will be credited in the paper, and also be noted on your report cards, as will be notable accomplishments in class. This will most likely improve your chances of finding work or an apprenticeship after graduation. And as we already stated on the flyers on your message boards, there are many open slots to fill, from research assistants to admin support, and, of course, reporters and writers."
"And last but not least: the Hogwarts Herold's articles might be overseen by Professor McGonagall as Hogwarts' liaison, but the teachers in this school have no authority to control what we write and publish, as long as it's covered by the Herold's charter and the international press codex. The same goes for the Ministry. Any attempts in that regard will be prosecuted by Gringotts and their lawyers." Lavender smiled smugly, as if she knew that Snape behind her was glowering murderously at them all. "Any questions?"
Lots of hands went up and Lavender and Parvati settled in to answer a few of them before Professor McGonagall stepped in and adjourned the interrogation until after dinner.
"The Hogwarts Herold has a nice ring to it," Dean said as they filled their plates and goblets. "Swearing an oath will have my mum up in arms, though. She'll want to read it first."
"Mine, too," Seamus agreed, "but it'll be worth it. Also, extra credit! I'm all for earning that with stuff I actually like to do."
"What about you, Neville?" Harry asked the quietly eating boy. "Will you help out?"
Neville shrugged. "Depends on whether my gran will allow it or not. The oath is a good idea, though. I wish the reporters at the Daily Prophet had to swear one."
"What would he even do there," Ron scoffed, scowling. "No one wants to know stuff about stupid plants. Only flubberworms could be worse."
"Ron!" Hermione snapped. "First of all, that's not true. Magical plants are very useful! Why, in a daily or even weekly edition we could easily print anecdotes about plants as potions ingredients, with cross references to whatever else might come up. Readers remember such things, it could improve the students' studying! So don't you dare tell him that it would be stupid!"
"Besides, who says that's all he could do?" Ginny asked. "There are open positions for research assistants, right? Anyone can research, Ron. Or handling other stuff, like typesetting or filing or whatever."
"Exactly," Hermione huffed. "No one has to write articles if they don't want to. As Lavender said, there's enough work to go around."
"Why would anyone bother with staying behind the scenes?" Ron asked derisively. "It's either go big or go home."
"And you're always going home, eh, Ronnikins?" Fred (or George) asked. He sat down next to Ron, rudely stealing a piece of meatloaf from his brother's plate.
George (or Fred) squeezed in on Ron's other side and took a bite of Ron's mashed potatoes. "Ronnikins has never gone big in his life-"
"-except that one time he managed to eat Percy's whole birthday cake when he was eight." Fred smirked when the people around the little group began to titter. "It had two tiers and weighed about three kilograms ... lots of perfect strawberries and Honeyduke's finest chocolate."
"It was a tragedy," George said dramatically, clutching his chest. "There was wailing and gnashing of teeth-"
"And Ron kept up Mum half the night because he was retching every ten minutes."
Ron turned beet red. "Shut up!"
Amused despite himself, Harry snickered. The teasing lasted through all of dinner, but when it ended, Harry excused himself and followed the twins from the great hall.
"Guys?" he called once they were reasonably alone. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
The twins turned, both sets of eyebrows raised.
"What can we do for you?" George asked.
"Has it got to do with Ron?" Fred added. "Because as much as it pains me to admit it, we might not be skilled enough to beat some sense into him."
"That's just it." Harry looked around and beckoned the two boys to follow him into an empty classroom. He closed the door and cast the Muffliato, causing the red eyebrows to rise even higher. "Ron is acting weird ever since the train ride."
"We noticed," Fred allowed.
"But he's oddly resistant to our attempts to correct his oafish behaviour." George crossed his arms over his chest. "And we're not his parents."
"Wouldn't want such a kid in any case," Fred added. "So, how can we help?"
"Can you, I dunno, ask your parents to have him looked at? Hermione and I joked about it, but what if he caught something in Egypt? A curse maybe?" Harry shrugged sheepishly. "He's never been like this with us before and we're worried, I guess."
"Or he could just be a little prick," Fred snorted. "Wouldn't be the first time, right, George?"
His brother scowled. "Ron has had his moments over the years, but they've always passed."
"We'll be honest." Fred clapped both hands on Harry's shoulders. "He's not the sort of friend I'd want you to pine after. Finnigan and Thomas seem like good blokes, and we've seen you hanging around with Longbottom as well. That one's solid. Ron's ... not."
"Yeah, but why?" Harry asked, anxious. "Ginny I could understand, last year was bad for her, but not Ron."
George shrugged. "Why are we pranking people? Why is Malfoy such a little jerk?"
"Some things just are," Fred concluded. "But, if it'll make you feel better, we'll write dad and ask him to do something about it. Who knows, maybe Ronnikins actually did manage to get cursed in Egypt."
"Would make my year," George smirked.
"Er, can I ask whether your parents have Ginny taken to a doctor yet?" Harry uncomfortably stepped from one foot onto the other. "No one said anything to me; I guess they're not so happy about the stipulations on her trust fund, but I thought it was important."
"It is," George said, grin vanishing. "We haven't noticed mum taking Ginny anywhere during the hols, but then again we were, er, busy. With stuff. I'll find out. Thanks for the gold, in any case, though I'm not sure that Ron and Ginny even deserve it."
"I just want her to get better," Harry muttered. "I sure needed a doctor, and she was possessed for a really long time."
"We'll make sure to find out, Harrikins," George promised.
"Yup, we sure will, after Dumbledore told our parents nearly nothing. Good talk, and good night." Fred saluted Harry and as one, the twins turned on their heels and left the classroom.
oOo
Monday passed in a blur, even with Care of Magical Creatures in unpleasant weather and three demanding classes afterwards. Everybody was on tenterhooks how the first session of the Patronus Club would go. Dumbledore was set to teach, and when it was time for the seventh years to meet in the great hall, a lot of students from the lower years squeezed into corners to watch.
Harry was one of the few not eager to spend an hour watching, mainly because he desperately wanted to read Healer Williams' latest journal entry about the death adders' hatching in peace. He was therefore grateful to have his dorm room to himself and cast a mild repelling charm on the door for good measure.
September 13th, 1993
Harry,
Three of the four eggs have hatched successfully overnight. Only one little one is still fighting. We're all encouraging her, but she refuses help, even though she's a little on the small side. We hope that she'll make it soon. Otherwise we might have to disrespect her wishes, and that wouldn't be a good start in life.
The three hatched adders are beautiful. Their skin is incredibly soft as their scales will only harden after about a month out of the egg. The two males are dark grey with startingly blue accents, and the one female looks like burnished gold with deep pink markings. I apologize in advance that the pictures won't do them justice. What their sister will look like we can only guess, but I thought I saw a dark grey blue and a touch of some sort of violet coulour, maybe lilac.
Head Snake Breeder Tearclaw asked me to remind you that one of the little ones will be named by you, and that you should provide a selection of names at your earliest convenience.
Harry, I really can't tell you how emotional these last twenty-four hours have been for me. Talking to these babies is an experience I won't ever forget. They're already able to hold full conversations, and they're curious! We're rotating parselmouths in to read them stories and explain about our society. I don't think they're too impressed so far, but that's to be expected. Death adders are very particular with whom they bond, and some decide not to bond at all. That's the risk Gringotts has taken on by purchasing the eggs, although the non-bonded adders are still very valuable for breeding and no one here will begrudge you one knut of the money they paid.
Now it's my turn to entertain the little ones. I like their snarky humour and I think you would, too. The pictures are being developed as I write this, so expect a delivery very soon.
All the best (and eternally grateful),
Brady
Harry sighed happily and pressed the journal to his chest for a moment. He couldn't explain why, but he was so glad that something of the basilisk had survived, and that those snakes would be good, and be bonded to good people who did good work.
Then, he wrote his answer.
Brady,
That's awesome! Tell the kids hello from me, and that I'll find them some really cool names to choose from.
I actually noticed that wizarding photographs are a bit pale, compared to mundane photos. Why hasn't anyone invented colour photography yet, or if it exists, why not in Britain? I can't imagine that there isn't a market for it.
Keep me posted on what's going on with the still hatching baby!
-Harry
P.S.: Please stop thanking me; you and your colleagues are doing all the work. I just got lucky by not getting eaten.
Harry put the journal away and got up. The library beckoned, and he was eager to fulfill his part in the honour the goblins were bestowing on him.
Only a few students were seriously studying when Harry slunk into Madam Pince's domain, and none of them paid him any attention.
Remembering what Hermione had taught him about the register, Harry wrote, A book with great names on the page and waited. He didn't expect a huge success, and the two books the register listed were more than enough for him.
The first one was about famous people of Great Britain, which was well enough, except that none of those seemed like a good fit for a pretty little snake lady. Only Maeve, the Irish warrior queen, roused some interest, even if the sound of the name didn't quite excite him.
The next book was far better, as it included names from many countries. The Polynesian name Luana made him think of white beaches and blue sea, but his favourite after three quarters of an hour of flipping through the book was Nara, a Japanese name. For some reason, male names didn't grab his attention at all and he wondered whether that was Magic's way of telling him that he would name one of the females.
Finally having found eight names he felt he could offer, Harry put the books back and left the library again, slowly strolling by the great hall to see whether the club was already done.
To his surprise, Dumbledore was still teaching, although the lesson seemed to be winding down now. None of the students were able to produce one of those silvery animals, which was a pity in Harry's eyes. He still remembered Lupin's patronus vividly, even if he hadn't been able to make out what kind of animal it actually was.
"Thank you for a wonderful first lesson. I'll see you again next week, and until then you'll hopefully all have found a happy memory," Dumbledore said, beaming. "To cheer you up, there will be chocolate to restore your strength - some would say that this is the best part of learning the Patronus Charm. I quite agree."
Quiet laughter could be heard and Harry strained to see over the horde of students clogging the entrance. What of the seventh years he could see seemed to be relaxed, if a bit exhausted, and everyone was eager to get to their house table for dinner. Harry waited for Dumbledore to get up to the teachers' table, but the man lingered and it made his stomach twinge uncomfortably. Deciding that he would rather hide out until the man was gone, Harry turned around to leave the hall.
"There you are," Ginny greeted him, getting in his way. "I thought you'd want to see how the club works, Harry."
"Er, no, I was waiting for tomorrow," Harry said, quickly averting his eyes when Dumbledore looked over. "I'm not really hungry yet, so go, sit down." He made to step around her.
"Harry, a moment please?" Dumbledore called and strolled over. "Thank you, Miss Weasley. He'll join you shortly."
Ginny nodded and walked away.
"Sir?" Harry asked, purposefully keeping his eyes on a spot on the wall.
"I would like to speak to you about some things, not all concerning school," Dumbledore said. "Please see me in my office after dinner."
Knowing that there was no way out of that, Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Splendid," Dumbledore said and went away to take his seat at his table.
A presence at Harry's side startled him, but it was only Hermione.
"Are you well?" she asked with concern. "You look ... spooked. It wasn't Peeves, I hope!"
"No, worse. It was Dumbledore." Harry told her about the summons to the headmaster's office. "I don't want to go there alone. I'm afraid that he ..." His throat closed around the words, preventing him from expressing his fear of being magically manipulated.
Hermione understood him well enough, anyway. "Ask Professor McGonagall to come with you," she said. "She's our head of house. You know the student guide book: the headmaster can't send her away." She lowered her voice. "You said that you're having a lawyer now. They should probably be present, especially when it's about magical guardian stuff."
"You're right. I panicked for a moment there." Harry swallowed. "I never thought I'd be afraid of Dumbledore, but-"
"He hasn't given you many reasons to trust him since the summer," Hermione replied matter of factly. "Don't feel guilty for that. It's normal, Harry." She took his arm and gently led him to the Gryffindor table. Instead of sitting with their friends, she chose the very end closest to the door and cast a Muffliato around them. "You're probably not very hungry now. That man should've waited; everyone's worried when they're asked to see the headmaster!"
"Professor McGonagall's not here yet," Harry fretted. "How will I contact her?"
Hermione smiled slyly. "We've got a few options now, Harry. Hogwarts elf, please."
A small elf with huge ears and brown eyes appeared promptly. It was clearly female and was dressed in a clean, white tea towel. "How may Tilly serve?" it squeaked.
"Oh hey, you brought tea on Saturday, in Snape's office!" Harry smiled. "Nice to see you again, and to learn your name."
Tilly's huge eyes stared unblinkingly at Harry. "Tilly did, Harry Potter sir. It be nice talking to Harry Potter sir."
"Tilly, we'd like you to take a message to Professor McGonagall. Can you do that?" Hermione asked.
"Tilly can." When Hermione moved to find a scrap of paper and a pen, she piped up, "Tilly be very good with verbal messages, Miss."
"Oh! In that case, please tell her that the headmaster has asked to see Harry in his office after dinner, and that Harry requests her presence."
"Tilly be delivering message right away, Miss!"
"Thank you." Hermione laughed when the little thing popped away. "She's adorable."
"Thanks for helping me out. I'm a mess," Harry sighed. "I really ... panicked. Huh."
"Don't mention it," Hermione replied. "Really, Harry, he creeps me out, too. Your reaction to him is ... it's visceral, and it's sort of catching. I'm getting nervous just seeing you fret."
"Sorry about that." Harry listlessly played with his plateful of white bean soup. "I know that you really admired him."
"I did," Hermione conceded, "but that was his public persona. Right now, I wouldn't want to be alone with him either, and I'll ask for Professor McGonagall's presence if he ever asks to see me."
Just to spite the man, Harry waited until dinner was officially over and the tables were completely cleared. Professor McGonagall was waiting for him at the door, her gaze critical and a little worried.
"Would you like to tell me why you're not comfortable speaking alone with Professor Dumbledore?" she asked quietly.
Harry was aware of the listening ears, but he answered her anyway. "I don't like his interest in me, Professor. I'm afraid he'll try to cancel my electives after all ... or try something else."
"That won't happen, Potter. Come along and let's see what this is about."
Far too soon in Harry's opinion they reached the gargoyle, and to his dismay it jumped aside without Professor McGonagall having to give a password.
"Ah, Harry ... and Minerva." Dumbledore's eyebrows rose in genuine surprise at seeing her. "May I ask what brought you here?"
Professor McGonagall levelled a look at Dumbledore. "Mr. Potter asked me to accompany him, and as his head of house I couldn't refuse his request."
"Well, I'm afraid that quite a few of the topics I wanted to discuss have nothing to do with school ... as I've stated when I asked Harry to visit me." Now Dumbledore's tone was definitely reproachful.
"Be that as it may, Albus, when a student asks for my presence, I'm obligated to follow their wishes." To Harry, she said, "My oath to the school forbids me to reveal anything private I might learn, as long as it is not a matter for law enforcement."
"That's fine, please stay," Harry said quickly.
"Harry, my boy ..." Dumbledore sighed but didn't say more when Professor McGonagall's lips pursed. "Of course, if that's your wish. Now, the first thing I wanted to talk about is the money you settled on Sir Nicholas, Fawkes, and Mrs. Norris."
"Oh, not that again, Albus," Professor McGonagall snapped. "So what if the lad sold that thrice damned beast to the goblins?"
"It's not so much the sale, but what's been done with the money," Dumbledore said placatingly. "The goblins helpfully pointed out the circumstance of Harry's generous gift to the petrified students, but you'll agree that neither Sir Nicholas, nor Fawkes, or Mrs. Norris can count as people. They represent Hogwarts in one way or other and it saddened me greatly that the school as such didn't get a portion."
"Maybe Hogwarts shouldn't have tried to kill Mr. Potter on several occasions, then," Professor McGonagall countered pitilessly. "Fawkes came to Mr. Potter's rescue, true, but he was rewarded for it and doesn't seem to have an issue with how Mr. Potter has decided to handle the matter."
"Due to a conflict of interest, it is impossible for me to act as your magical guardian in this instance, Harry, but I implore you to rethink your decision," Dumbledore pressed. "Hogwarts is always in needs of funds; just listening to the chatter these last two weeks showed how many improvements our beloved school needs, beginning but certainly not ending with better brooms for the Quidditch teams."
"Again, that's not Potter's responsibility," Professor McGonagall said, getting impatient. "Please stop bullying the boy for money. If you need some, go to the Minister. He's been cutting funds for years, anyway."
"Hogwarts has always prided itself on its independence," Dumbledore said soothingly, "and to keep it that way it relies on private gifts."
Professor McGonagall narrowed her eyes. "Stop right here, Albus. I won't have you make the boy feel guilty for failings that fall into your purview. The money belongs to Mr. Potter. He earned it and our laws are very clear on that matter. Additionally, he's still a minor and shouldn't be pressured to make such decisions without legal council, anyway. Don't do it again, I'm warning you."
"Very well, if Harry has nothing to add ..." Harry shook his head dumbly and Dumbledore sighed, the very picture of disappointment. "On to the next topic, then. It came to my attention that your first few lessons with Professors Babbling and Vectra went very well. I'll expect you to work hard, Harry, and will be disappointed if your grade will be lesser than EE at the end of the year."
"I like the subjects," Harry said by way of an answer, still not looking at Dumbledore but at the desk, as if fascinated by the trinkets on it.
Professor McGonagall's gimlet eye twitched, but she said nothing.
"Then you won't have any problems." Dumbledore shuffled some papers before continuing, "It also came to my attention that your friendship with Ron Weasley has been ... strained. It worries me that you'd let two years of friendship languish so. Would you mind telling me what the matter seems to be?"
Harry wondered what Dumbledore thought he could do, but shrugged and replied, "He's been a prat since the train ride. He insulted Hermione, threatened her pet, and is always starting fights. No one likes him right now."
"Now, now, I'm sure that's just a misunderstanding," Dumbledore murmured. "Young boys always find some thing to fight about. I spoke with Ronald, of course, and must say that I'm a bit disappointed that you seem to distrust him so. Locking your trunk against him ... that's been hard on him. He regards you as a brother, you see."
"Well, maybe my supposed brother shouldn't have taken my stuff without asking, then," Harry said, getting angry.
Professor McGonagall sucked in a breath. "Is that true, Mr. Potter?"
"Well, yes. But I took care of it and it won't happen again. Dean and Seamus and Neville are doing it, too." Rebelliously, Harry added, "Will you ask them to let Ron go through their things as well?"
"That was uncalled for, Harry," Dumbledore sighed. "And of course not. I was merely trying to find the root cause of your estrangement."
"Tread carefully, Albus, because I heard you imply the same thing Mr. Potter did," Professor McGonagall warned. "I'm not comfortable with you discussing Mr. Potter's friendships in any case. As his magical guardian it might be your privilege to offer advice, should he seek it. However, any heavy-handed input is bound to be ignored, as I'm sure you know is par for the course for teenagers. Leave the children to sort things out among themselves first ... like you did last year, when the whole school was harassing Mr. Potter for allegedly opening the Chamber of Secrets."
"Minerva-"
"Albus," she cut him of frostily. "In all his years with his muggle relatives, you haven't taken an interest in Mr. Potter's affairs. Not once, even though you knew that they were the worst sort of muggles. Frankly, it is suspicious that you're starting to meddle now, and in matters that are not your concern."
"I always had Mr. Potter's best interests at heart," Dumbledore protested.
Chancing a quick glance, Harry saw him flush with temper.
"Well, I'm not buying it, and I'll keep watch now, Albus. I'll also warn the goblins to do the same, because after witnessing this 'talk' I'm forced to assume that you wanted to cheat Mr. Potter out of a substantial amount of galleons, and emotionally blackmail him into continuing a friendship that he's decided to put on probation." Professor McGonagall glared. "Shall I ask Filius what the Horde's view on stealing from, and the harassing of a child is?"
Dumbledore spluttered. "Where is all of this coming from, Minerva? You've known me for decades!"
"Yes, and I'm not blind." Professor McGonagall stood. "Leave the children out of your power plays with the Ministry, and do try to actually do right by Mr. Potter. You could start with signing his Hogsmeade permission slip. As Mr. Potter's magical guardian," Harry wondered how often she would stress that point until the meeting was over, "that's one of the things you're actually entitled to manage, and I can't see a reason to deny him the pleasure when the aurors will watch over the outings. Do you, Albus?"
"No, of course not." Dumbledore rather reluctantly opened a drawer and took out a sheet of parchment. "I simply have forgotten to sign it amidst my power games with the Ministry." He tried to catch Harry's eye and smiled crookedly. "Unfortunately I wasn't as victorious as I'd have liked; the dementors got stationed around the grounds anyway."
Harry didn't know what to make of it, but the form was signed and Professor McGonagall accepted it with a nod.
"If that was all?" she asked.
Dumbledore sighed. "For the moment, yes. Please accompany Harry to the common room, Minerva. Severus is patrolling tonight and I'd like to avoid further unpleasantness from that quarter."
Only after the gargoyle had settled in place and was closing the way up to Dumbledore's office, could Harry really breathe again, and only then did he notice how clammy his hands and forehead were.
"Are you alright, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked, a worried frown marring her forehead.
"Yes." Harry cleared his throat. "Thank you ... for everything you've said."
She put a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards Gryffindor tower. A few corridors away from the Fat Lady's portrait, she stopped in front of a portrait depicting a kitten that was transforming into a soup bowl and back.
"Do you feel comfortable coming into my quarters for a moment?" Professor McGonagall asked. "It's not exactly proper, but my office was too far out of the way."
"I don't mind," Harry said quickly and climbed through the portrait hole once she had given the password.
After bidding him to sit on one of the two armchairs in front of the roaring fire of her fireplace, Professor McGonagall got straight to the point, as usual. "Do you mind telling me what had you scared practically witless in the headmaster's presence, Mr. Potter?"
"I-" Harry's throat closed up again and he gasped. A shallow pain in chest followed.
"Oh, Merlin. Sit down, Potter. Here, drink some water ... I think I'd better check for mischief."
Harry endured several revealing spells while he sipped the cold water and breathed a sigh of relief when Professor McGonagall didn't find anything.
"No compulsions or mind hexes. That was an honest bout of panic there, lad," she said just as relieved and much softer than before. "Talk to me."
"It's ... I heard about ..." Harry's stomach sommersaulted but he forced it out anyway. "Spell hooks. The Imperius. Over the summer."
She blanched and sat back in her chair. "What?"
"I'm afraid of ... people cursing me," Harry said miserably. "Dumbledore's tried to control me, he obviously wants my money, and he's powerful. It'd be easy for him to-"
"He'd never-" Professor McGonagall caught herself and took a deep breath. "I apologize. Truthfully, I can't say that your fear is unfounded. I understand you, only too well, I'm afraid." She reached out and took one of Harry's clammy hands in his. "Oh, lad. I wish this weren't something you'd need to worry about."
"Isn't there something I can do?" Harry asked, trying to recover his composure and, he admitted it to himself, his dignity.
"Those curses are labelled dark for a reason," Professor McGonagall said quietly. "And I'm furious with myself for not noticing what a danger they are to you. But there are some things one can do to prevent being caught unawares."
"Will you teach me?" Harry pleaded.
"I will." She nodded firmly. "And with your permission, I'll be bringing Professor Flitwick and Professor Lupin on board, as well. For your peace of mind, I'll compose an oath to protect your privacy, but I'm afraid that my oath to the school will supersede it if challenged."
"It's alright, I'll take it," Harry said. "Thank you, so much."
"Bah, I should've never bought into Dumbledore's claims that you need as normal a childhood as you could get. What you needed was thorough schooling, and we all dropped the ball on that."
"But at least I was hidden from Voldemort and his people," Harry murmured. "When can we start?"
"Not tonight," Professor McGonagall said firmly, quelling his protest with just a look. "Tonight, I've checked you for curses. Allow yourself to be content with that, and give me some time to make arrangements. I'll send notice when we're ready to begin."
"Sorry," Harry said, ashamed. "It's just ... pushing me."
"What?" McGonagall stilled. "What is pushing you? Your magic?" At Harry's small nod, she blanched again and cursed. "I've been so stupid. Last of your line; of course it's pushing you ... I can't believe I didn't see-" Her stare became fiery. "Potter, follow my lead. Out with your wand."
Perplexed, Harry did as he was told. In a matter of minutes, he'd learned the revealing spell the professor had used on him and nervously cast it on her.
"Uhm ... you're looking like a Christmas tree, Professor," he said, gaping at the tendrils of orange and pale blue magic that were winding around her body. "What is that?"
"One is my ... it's a personal charm," she replied, face stony. "The blue one, however, isn't mine. If I had to guess, it's a very subtle mind-altering spell, and if I had to guess again, it's got to do with you." She motioned for Harry to end the revealing spell, which he did, but only reluctantly.
"What will you do about it?" Harry asked, worried. "Do you know who cast it?"
"No, but I can guess. Here, take this pen and paper ... I need you to write a note for me. Sign it with your name and the date and time."
"Why am I writing it, Professor?" he asked.
"Because, if I'm right, the spell might make me write something entirely different in a bid to protect itself," she answered so matter-of-factly that Harry's stomach clenched in horror. "A letter from youwill carry weight, however. Now please write ..."
Harry followed Professor McGonagall's directions. His whole body felt jittery with nerves and outrage on her behalf, so much so that he ruined his first attempt and had to start over. The note, at least, was short and to the point: It asked Professor McGonagall's friend Amy for a meeting and a check-up for 'the usual'. Harry signed and dated it, exhaling harshly when he was done.
"Five points for being a quick study, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said grimly, motioning for him to write the directions on an envelope she summoned from a small secretary desk. "Remember that spell and use it often. Maybe also use it on classmates, if their behaviour inexplicably changes."
"I'll teach it to Hermione," Harry replied, still fighting his fight-or-flight response to their discovery. "She notices a lot of things. And maybe Neville, if he wants. It's unfair, but not many people think of him as a threat."
"In this instance, it can only be to our benefit." Professor McGonagall rose from her chair. "On behalf on Hogwarts, and even more so for myself, I sincerely apologize for not stepping up to help you through everything that's been going on. I'll get to the bottom of this, I promise, and then heads will roll."
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said, standing when she rose from her chair. "That means a lot. Last year was ... it was difficult."
"I know, lad." She smiled at him, not so grimly this time, but her eyes were still flinty. "Before we leave my quarters, I ask that you'll cast that spell on me as well. Do it randomly, and send my friend Amy these requests whenever you find something. Will you do that for me?"
Stunned, Harry could barely nod.
"Good. Then come, it's getting late."
She accompanied him to the common room and then strode off in the direction of the owlery.
Hermione was by Harry's side immediately. Her keen eyes took in his pallor and the shell-shocked tremor in his hands.
"It didn't go well, I take it?" she murmured. "Come, let's sit down here ... Muffliato! Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not here," Harry replied, surreptitiously looking around and noting the many curious eyes on them. "Tomorrow. Let's meet you-know-where."
"Alright. Can I hug you?"
"Please." Harry shifted in the old armchair Hermione had sat him down in and accepted her weight in his lap. His arms went around her and he hid his face against her shoulder. "That feels really good."
"Yes," Hermione agreed softly, gently pulling him even closer and carding her fingers through his unruly hair.
Far too soon, the prefects sent the younger years to bed. Harry wished that he could keep cuddling with Hermione, but he also needed to tell his godfather what was going on at Hogwarts.
That won't go over well, Harry thought miserably as he spelled his teeth clean. I hate having to worry him. Maybe I should write Brady as well, he can help calm Sirius down.
Back in the dorm, Ron showed him the cold shoulder. The boy didn't talk to anyone, just climbed into bed and yanked the hangings shut, followed by a surprisingly strong privacy charm.
"Does anybody else want to know what he's up to?" Dean asked, eyeing Ron's bed suspiciously.
Harry sighed and cast his own privacy charm around them. "I talked to Fred and George and asked them to write to their parents to have him checked out."
"Seriously?" Seamus hooted. "How did they take it?"
"Well, they said that Ron had his moments before this, but they'll do it. No idea what will come of it, though." Harry checked that his trunk was firmly locked before sitting on his bed. "Maybe it'll just be a howler from Mrs. Weasley."
"Even if it's just that, you did all you could as his friend," Neville said quietly. "The rest is up to family."
"Don't worry about it so much anymore," Seamus advised. "It'll either get better, or it won't, but you'll know what to do in any case."
"Will I?" Harry asked wrily.
"Yup. You'll figure it out," Dean said and jumped onto his bed. "Night, guys!"
One after the other the bed hangings closed and privacy charms were cast. Harry only followed when everything was quiet, and then he scrambled to get Sirius' journal and a pen out of his bag. It took far longer than anticipated to write everything down, so he asked his godfather to share with Sharptooth. Healer Williams, he wanted to contact himself.
After copying and pasting everything he had told Sirius, Harry added, I don't feel safe at Hogwarts anymore. Professor McGonagall suspects Dumbledore of mind-charming her, and I'll have to teach at least Hermione how to detect spell hooks, and I'm really freaking out right now. Professor McGonagall even had me write a letter to a friend she trusts because apparently the spell can make her change what she's writing to protect itself. It's bloody scary.
Healer Williams' answer came quickly.