Part 14
The last few days until the first edition of the Hogwarts Heraldwould be published passed in tense anticipation. Gringotts had indeed approved an extra four pages for the newspaper, and that space was promptly used up for the dementor attack on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, as well as the longer version of the article Hermione had written about Sirius Black. A few letters from parents regarding Professor Snape's attitude towards their children rounded out the offering.
"I hope it's really okay to write so much about your godfather," Hermione said to Harry on Thursday afternoon after Tuva had wrapped up her lesson, only half a day before the distribution of the paper would begin. "I finally received an answer from the Ministry this morning regarding his case, and it ... well, it isn't good."
"Do I want to read about in the paper?" Harry replied with a raised eyebrow. "Or rather, do I even want to know?"
"You shouldn't have to find out that way," Hermione said quietly. "Let's talk after dinner, okay?"
Worry crept from Harry's clenching stomach to his throat, not helped by secretly casting the detection spell on Professor McGonagall and finding her spelled again, but he managed to get through dinner and hold his tongue until Hermione and he had gotten into the Come and Go Room. Thankfully Dobby was a good sport and had popped away with a message to Madam Amelia Bones right away, or else Harry would've screamed with pent up horror and rage.
"Here, maybe it's better if you read their letter yourself," Hermione said, once they'd settled on the cushy sofa in front of the roaring fireplace. She handed over a folded piece of parchment and then sat back, anxiously biting her lower lip. "I'm really sorry, Harry."
Equally anxious, Harry unfolded it and read the few lines. By the end of it, fury like nothing he'd ever experienced before roiled in his gut, and the air around him crackled with magic.
"Those utter bastards!" he gritted out.
"Yes." Hermione watched Harry with dark eyes. "They forged an entire case file, and even trial transcripts. It's so easy to see, I don't know how they think they can get away with it."
"Can I have this?" Harry asked, working hard not to incinerate the offending piece of parchment.
"Of course. Make yourself a copy. Harry ... you're scaring me a little. What's going on? Can't you tell me?"
Taking a deep breath, Harry forced himself to push the flaring magic down a little. It wasn't her fault that this had happened, of course not. Taking her hand in his helped tremendously to calm himself down, and after a minute or two he was able to speak.
"Sirius Black is my godfather," he said tightly. "He didn't do anything to my parents. He's a good man, and I hate what the Ministry is trying to do to him. But I won't let them. Plus, Dumbledore. He's spelled McGonagall again, and I'm certain that he wants Sirius back in prison."
"Oh dear." Hermione's thumb gently stroked over the back of Harry's hand. "That's very bad, should it be true. But there's more to it; I know there is."
"Sirius is not in Britain," Harry said abruptly. "On Monday, he's going to the ICW in Rome to get his name cleared. Everything Fudge and the Ministry are doing to hide their mistakes is for nothing. The dementors are endangering all of our lives for nothing."
"Harry ..." Hermione's breath hitched. "How long have you known?"
"I'd better not tell you that," he replied, a little dryly. Fleetingly, Harry realised how much Sharptooth had already coloured his perceptions, even after only a few months of acquaintance, but he couldn't be sorry for that. This awareness was a hundred times better than his blind, and thoroughly misguided, faith in Dumbledore and his ilk. "I don't want you to get in trouble."
"Oh, please. My admiration for authority figures has taken such a deep nosedive that people will have to salvage it from the bottom of the Black Lake." Hermione snorted derisively. "I can keep secrets, I promise. I started with occlumency training a couple of days ago. It's not that hard, since a lot of it has to do with meditation, and I've been doing that for years. And if I look either Snape or Dumbledore in the eye, it'll be to deck them. They're welcome to see that in my mind just before it happens."
"Well, okay." Harry blew out a stunned breath. "We're both minors, so they can't really do anything about it anyway," he decided. The last of his fury ebbed away and he grinned, although it was a little on the mean side. "Besides which, I have a kick ass lawyer, he'll make the Ministry run in circles before they finally break down crying. At least that's what Sirius says, and I believe him."
"You've been in contact with him," Hermione whispered. "Oh my god. Since when?"
"Since the summer. He requested asylum in Gringotts and they granted it, because they knew that he was wrongly imprisoned. They want his gold back in circulation - that's how they get their magic. And they also can't stand the Ministry, so it's a win-win situation for them."
"You'll have to tell me all about that later," Hermione said, eyes wide. "What happened after he got granted asylum?"
"We met in person and our bond ..." A sudden, honest smile stole onto Harry's lips. "It settled right back into what it was when I was a baby. He's my family and he's going to clear his name and sue everyone who deserves it. And then we'll be able to live together like my parents wanted."
"That's wonderful." Hermione's eyes were a little shiny as she spoke. "If there's anything I can do to help ..."
"You already did. Sirius and Gringotts are waiting with their official petition to the ICW so the Herald can bring the story first. Sirius said to tell you thank you for having common sense and looking into his case when no one else did during all these years. He wants you to earn the recognition. He also said that he'll be available for exclusive interviews, if the Herald wants them."
"Very funny," Hermione huffed. "Lavender and Parvati would kill me if I refused. They might kill me anyway if I don't go in later today to rewrite my article and she finds out that I knew." She looked searchingly at Harry. "Do I go in and rewrite my article? What a bombshell that'd be."
"Sirius would be deathly offended if you didn't, and yes, Lavender probably would kill you." Harry laughed, but his amusement faded quickly. "We'll need the Herald on our side with the bullshit the Ministry just pulled. This letter here will help." He carefully patted the offensive missive, lest he rip it to shreds in a fresh fit of temper.
"Language, Harry James," Hermione scolded him casually. "And of course the Herald will help. Whatever your godfather's lawyer and the international press can manage in Rome, we'll match from Hogwarts. Dumbledore certainly isn't the only one who needs a kick in the pants, and you've heard Lavender. She's not afraid to take her lumps."
"About giving Dumbledore a kick in the pants," Harry said, grateful for the slight change in subject, "how did your talk with Dobby go?"
Hermione's smirk should have been frightening, but Harry found her feral expression rather appealing. "Can that remain a secret for now? I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."
"Sure, why not?" Harry answered with a shrug. "It might be best if I'm not too involved, anyway. Did you see how angry Snape was at dinner? He must've gotten Madam Longbottom's letter. I was wondering what was taking her so long to reply."
"I know, right? It's high time Neville got out of that class," Hermione said angrily. "Lisa Turpin found Neville behind a tapestry today after class. He was crying, apparently. And Snape took fifty points from Gryffindor for scaring Neville into making his potion explode. Seamus, Dean, Runcorn and even Pansy Parkinson all say that that's what happened. Our friends have gone to Professor McGonagall to protest this."
"I hope Neville's gran makes Snape's life a living hell," Harry muttered darkly. "I talked to Tuva and explained that Neville might need some time to catch up and she said that that's not a problem at all for her."
Hermione leaned against his shoulder. "I hope our article and the parents' letters in the Herald will make a difference. Snape absolutely needs to go. Neville is the nicest boy I know, he doesn't deserve any of this."
"He really doesn't." Harry frowned. "There's more going on with Neville. Did he tell you that Professor Lupin held him back after the Patronus Club?"
"No, why?"
Harry looked at her worried frown and smoothed it away with a squeeze to her fingers. "Seems like his wand is all wrong for him. Professor Lupin noticed and wrote to Neville's gran right away, but I have no idea what'll come of that."
"Can you imagine working without your perfect wand?" Hermione asked. She shuddered a little. "Or even worse, with a wand that makes it really hard? And what if his grandmother won't let him have a different wand? How will he manage Hogwarts?"
Guiltily, Harry thought about his holly wand that was no longer a perfect match. "I don't think she'll do that. She went to bat for me, what do you think she'd do for her own family?"
"True," Hermione conceded. "Still, I wonder why Neville just hasn't told her this before. He's so bad with the practical work, his report cards should have clued her in."
"Well, maybe not." Harry stared thoughtfully into the flames. "Neville told us once that his uncle dropped him out of a window to force him to show accidental magic. What if his gran just believes that he's not a strong wizard?"
"That would be tragic!" Hermione's grip tightened. "Professor Lupin set her straight now, thankfully. And if that alone doesn't help, Professor McGonagall will surely act. And you can step in, as well. You're the same age as Neville, but you're Harry Potter. Even with her, that will carry some weight."
"I wish people would stop saying that," Harry sighed. He huffed. "But I guess for Neville I'd make an exception."
"I'd be very disappointed if you didn't," Hermione said with a laugh. Sobering again, she murmured, "I can't believe what's happening this year. I really thought it'd be quiet for once. Tell your godfather to get to the ICW pronto, because we need those dementors gone."
"Oh, I will. His lawyer will send the first missive first thing on Monday." Harry scrunched up his nose. "It's a rather drawn out process, lots of tedious paper work. But having Gringotts at his back will help with that, Sirius said. The goblins count as stellar witnesses the world over."
Hermione made a thoughtful noise. "It might interest people how this works, after all the ruckus his breakout caused. Do you think the ICW would send me an outline of the procedure? Maybe we could even get our hands on a timeline, give our readers something to look forward to."
"Sure, although that won't be exclusive," Harry told her. "Sirius already told me that his lawyer wants the press as involved as possible to minimize process fraud. Apparently there might also be people who'd rather see Sirius dead than having to admit to their mistakes."
"That's horrible!" Hermione cried.
Harry was almost amused about her honest shock. "Well, the Ministry does have a lot to lose, and Sirius is pretty rich. He said people will probably come after him to get their hands on his gold." He shrugged. "Not that it's going to work. Gringotts will protect him, and the gold, and should they manage to do him in, they'll be in for a nasty surprise. I'm his blood-adopted heir, you see. He made me promise to avenge his death in the most gruesome manner I can think of, and I will."
"Harry," Hermione protested, clearly not believing him.
"He did. He made me promise in writing, too." Harry put his arm around her and breathed in the comforting scent of her hair. "Not that it'll come to that. He'll be careful."
"He better be. If you were to go off the rails, I'd feel honour-bound to follow, and that'd ruin my chances of having a long and successful career," Hermione huffed. She poked Harry in the side. "And no, you do not have a say in this. You go avenging, I go avenging."
"Thank you," Harry whispered, the warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest expanding and churning, until he was nearly squirming with it.
"Yes, well, see that it's for a worthy cause," Hermione replied primly, poking him again and then burrowing against his side just like Crookshanks did when he was looking for warmth and comfort.
oOo
Breakfast on Friday was a study in contrasts. People were talking, most often discussing the school newspaper, but they did it in hushed, excited whispers. They were eating, but many stomachs were clenching uncomfortably with excitement. The normally loud and jovial Lavender was pale with anxiety, her fingers drumming an endless tattoo on the table, while the usually calmer Parvati was nearly vibrating in her seat and chattering a mile a minute.
And everybody was glancing up to the owl window every minute or so, waiting for the post to finally arrive.
"I can't stand it," Lavender whimpered, nervously playing with her coffee cup. "It'll be horrible, people all over the country will laugh me out of office."
"They'll do no such thing," Hermione said calmly.
"How can you say that?" Parvati whined. Her normally smooth and prettily braided hair was unkempt and a little wild from her raking her hands through it so often.
"Easy." Hermione put on her best snotty look. "I double-checked everything, didn't I? There's no way any of our articles are trash."
Everyone around her stared at her, and then Dean and Seamus, as well as many of the upper years, broke out into delighted guffaws.
"That's right, Hermione, you tell them," Fred chortled.
"I admit that your claim has some merit, especially since Professor McGonagall helped," Percy added with a little sniff, which caused another round of laughter.
And then the owls came. Dozens upon dozens of birds entered the Great Hall through the window and sailed downwards, throwing the rolled up newspapers like bombs at the students.
"That wasn't the most clever thing we decided on," Seamus cried after getting hit with a copy. "Ow!"
"I voted for house elf delivery," Hermione pointed out, giving a little shriek when her copy smashed into her plate. "No more owls!"
"Definitely not!" Parvati agreed, protecting her head with her arms. "This is not romantic, Lav!"
"I see that now!" Lavender cried. She had scrambled egg and porridge in her hair and a wild look in her eyes.
Harry caught his copy out of the air, ducking underneath the table afterwards. Down there, a lot of students were already seeking shelter. "Wow, I like the logo." He looked at Dean. "Your work?"
"Me and Trevor Lane from Ravenclaw designed it together," Dean answered. "Mum'll be so proud, even if it's basically just the Hogwarts crest with the herald trumpets."
"It still looks fierce," Harry said. "Like Hogwarts really has something to say."
"Well, we do," Parvati said. She winced and flicked some porridge off her shoulder.
"Thank god I know a few good cleaning charms," Hermione muttered. Seeing the many sodden copies of the paper, she added, "And repair charms."
A few minutes later the owls were gone, leaving a battle field of ruined breakfast plates and spilled drinks behind. Some students were sporting black eyes or were bleeding from their noses, having been hit right in the face by the tightly rolled newspapers. Those, Professor McGonagall was herding to the infirmary, while a couple of charms from Professor Flitwick set the Great Hall back to rights.
Cautiously, the battered students came out of hiding and settled back at their tables. With little pops, the house elves provided fresh tea and pumpkin juice, and then the moment was there.
The first edition of the Hogwarts Herald was unrolled by hundreds of hands, and not a moment later the first gasps echoed through the Great Hall.
oOo
Harry had never been more grateful than now for only having two classes on Fridays. All morning, his copy of the Herald had burned a hole into his bag, and it didn't help that Blue and Sweetie were all over it, as if the thing were some sort of snake-nip. The snakelings were so fussy that Harry had Jules pop them and the paper into the Come and Go Room, lest someone notice the rustling and hissing in his bag.
During an exceptional lunch, provided by Harry's eager Potter elves, Harry read over Hermione's shoulder, once more astounded at the many screaming headlines on the front page. The most prominent one was about the dementors and Sirius Black, of course. Hermione's critical article about Sirius Black's supposed status as an escaped convict naturally garnered a lot of attention, and the insider information about the man not being in Britain anymore had caused not a few shouted exclamations of disbelief and outrage. After all, the dementors were supposedly looking for Black, not sent to Hogwarts to harm children. Harry honestly was looking forward to finding out what the Ministry was going to do, now that their quarry had faffed off to Italy and made them look like idiots.
Students being students, however, the Herald's stance against Snape's unfair behaviour in class was the next absolute highlight, although the case against Buckbeak came in a close third. There were also murmurs about Professor Binn's less than satisfactory work, as if the students didn't know how bad it actually was. Harry silently gave the group of Ravenclaws kudos who had dared to go against that particular sleep-inducing dragon.
"Yup, this paper will definitely set a few people at the Ministry on fire," Harry said after they'd skimmed the whole of it. "And hopefully the board of govenors. Well done, guys."
"Talking about which, Potter," Lavender said, already back to her old assertive self, "how likely do you think is it that the International Wizarding Times will contact us?"
"Why are you asking me?" Harry asked, perplexed.
"Well, duh, the dementors tried to attack you, twice," she said with an eye roll. "First in the Hogwarts Express, and then again on the Quidditch pitch. Also, they're here because of you, more or less, and if Black really is gone, they'll want to know where the information has come from."
"Oh god," Harry muttered. "No comment."
"I get that you don't like being in the spotlight, and you should probably find a lawyer because the Ministry will ask you, but we should at least talk about what we're going to do if the international press does come knocking," Parvati added. "Like, are we allowed to sell our articles that have to do with you? It's in the Charter, you know, that we have to ask affected people, and their parents. Professor McGonagall insisted on it. The money would go towards future editions of the Herald, it's not for personal gain or anything."
"Really?" Harry asked. At the girls' nods, he felt a moment's elation. "Wow, cool."
"We're the nice guys," Lavender said impatiently, "but we have a paper to run. If larger papers come knocking, we need to know how to act."
"This is all new to me," Harry said. "It might happen, but I'm mostly sure that it won't."
Hermione shook her head. "I think the IWT actually will ask; they did report on the dementors before - and they've asked a few pointed questions about your godfather since."
"And Hermione found out that the Ministry is trying to cover something up," Lavender said, eyes gleaming with excitement. "What do you think will happen if the world press learns of this? Our little student newspaper might bring about a government crisis!"
"Fine." Harry frowned. "You can sell to the IWT if they ask, but I'd like to check out any others before we do that. If they're as bad as the Daily Prophet, I'd rather not have them print stories about me. And if Dumbledore says no, you have to deal with him."
"That's a deal!" Lavender crowed and stuck out her hand for a shake. "Thank you, Harry. Can I have that in writing, for the record?"
"Sure, you'll have it tonight."
As Harry walked up the stairs to the Come and Go Room, he finally realized that neither Ron nor Ginny had said a word to him about any of it ... and that Dumbledore had given lunch in the Great Hall a miss.
oOo
"I'm pretty sure that the old coot has been in conference with Fudge all morning," Sirius said, his face a handsome, if somewhat misshapen blob in the green flames that were dancing in the fireplace. "Your newspaper was dynamite, after all, pup. You should all prepare yourselves for the fallout."
"Like more clubs at school, and a Potions professsor that doesn't hate our guts?" Harry asked sarcastically and stroked Sweetie's head. She was once more stuck to his chest and wallowing in his attention. Blue, on the other hand, was busy slithering through the Come and Go Room and exploring its infinite interesting corners. "Because we're desperate for that kind of fallout."
"Binns absolutely needs to go, and Snape is a blight on humanity as a whole," Sirius agreed easily, "but I meant condescending adults and unfair punishments, mostly. Especially your girlfriend should prepare herself for questioning, if not outright interrogation. The Ministry will be very quick to do that."
"Because she started it?" Harry asked with a scowl.
"That, and because she's a muggle-born ... and a girl." Sirius shrugged when Harry glared at him. "Just saying how it is. The Ministry hates few things more than people of no consequence telling them what to do. Witches telling them what to do makes it worse, but the absolutely worst thing imaginable for that old, decrepit lot is being shown up by female kids. So, watch out. And expect Finch next week; I told him to arrange for a visit with McGonagall. His cover story will be to protect your interests regarding this newspaper business, but what he really needs are about three dozen signatures on forms to allow him to act on your behalf. It has to be done in person, unfortunately, but we'll manage." He grinned wolfishly. "I already signed mine, so whenever you're ready, the world won't know what hit it."
"Won't Dumbledore try to forbid Mr. Finch to come to Hogwarts?" Harry asked dubiously. "He's always watching me over his glasses, like this. I can't imagine that he wants an independent lawyer by my side." Harry demonstrated Dumbledore's probing look and then curled in on himself. "He hasn't done anything yet, though, and that's making me nervous."
Blue crawled up his leg and flicked his tongue soothingly over Harry's fingers but didn't say anything.
"Yes, I'm nervous, too, but he won't dare do much in any case, not with McGonagall and Gringotts in the know, and your schoolmates already questioning the validity of my imprisonment." Sirius' smug expression became even more self-satisfied. "Your friends were very smart, getting the goblins to help them with the newspaper. Dumbledore can only lose if the tries to interfere, especially since the international press will try to pick up your articles. Your editor should expect their owls very soon."
"I'm looking forward to it, then," Harry said, uncurling a little and rather desperate to not think of Sirius back in prison. "How is it in Rome so far? Still not tired of all the pizza and stuff?"
"Pup," Sirius moaned, appalled. "First of all, Italy has so much more to offer than pizza! And secondly, no. I'd definitely apply for citizenship for their cuisine alone, just so we're clear. In fact, my application is ready, and Walker will file it as soon as possible. Yours will be ready for whenever you want to go for it."
"Does that mean you'll live there, once you've cleared your name?"
Sirius sobered. "I probably will, Harry. And I'll take all my gold from Britain to Italy, as well. Gringotts will still be able to work with it, but I'm not paying a knut more in taxes in England than I absolutely have to. And if it isn't Italy, there are enough other countries where I could make a good home for us."
A lump formed in Harry's throat. "You said that we'd live here, in my cottage, during the holidays."
"And we will," Sirius said soothingly. "You're my family, and I'll go wherever you are. Once you leave Hogwarts, we can talk about it again. Does that sound fair?"
"Yes. Thanks." Harry sighed in relief. "I'm sorry, it's just ... Hermione will be here, and I don't want to leave her if the Ministry is going to go after her."
Sirius tilted his head. "You told me that her parents are willing to send her elsewhere, and that she's staying for you. Has that changed?"
Harry froze. "Uh."
He must've looked extraordinarily funny, because Sirius began to chuckle.
"Yes, I know how you're feeling right now. Suddenly you have options. Fantastic, isn't it?"
"I can't leave yet," Harry said, voice rough and heartbeat ramping up again. "And I can't ask it of her and her parents. Not when it isn't necessary."
"And I'm not asking you to," Sirius assured him. "But if it gets dangerous, either at school or in the country, you'll be ready. I won't ever force you, but I hope that you trust me enough to know when it's enough."
"I do," Harry promised. He forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths. "I do. Just ... I just don't want to leave her. Can we ... can't we take the Grangers with us? Like, really with us?"
"I'll have Sharptooth contact them. Everyone should have a good exit strategy, anyway," Sirius murmured. The mood plummeted as sudden, decade-old grief showed on his face. "I wish your parents had had one. A better one."
"About that ..." Harry hesitated. "They had house elves, I know they did. Why didn't they have a couple of them at the house? They could've popped out easily, even through wards."
"They did," Sirius admitted. He closed his eyes when Harry's Patronus appeared in a gentle swirl of silver light and nosed against his cheek. It looked peculiar in the green flames, but also very magical. "Have elves with them in the house in Godric's Hollow, that is. The security elves that perished, to be exact. I don't know why they fought instead of fleeing as soon as their wards were compromised. James would've never risked you and your mother like that." He wiped his cheeks and cleared his throat. "There's still so much I don't understand about that night."
"Do you think we'll ever find out?" Harry asked softly. The echo of grief he was able to feel through their bond was paralyzing.
"I hope we do. I know I won't rest easy until that happens." They were silent for long moments, just looking at each other through the green, flickering flames. Then, Sirius perked up a little. "Did I tell you that I am giving the Black family homes a much needed overhaul?"
"Yeah, why? I thought you were gonna sell them?"
"Well, I'll still do that, of course, but the goblins found a little something in the ancestral crypt's attic that might make international Floo calls unnecessary," Sirius said. "No matter how secure that room of yours is, it's better not to take any risks. I just need to check over some runes, do some fine-tuning, and then we'll be good to go."
"Talking like this is already a million times better than just writing," Harry admitted. "But if it works, I'm all for it. Staring into the fire for so long makes my eyes go wonky."
"I'd let you help with the runes, but it's a little above a beginner's abilities."
"That's alright," Harry promised.
"You can still have a look at the matrix," Sirius went on. "You seem to be talented. Your dad liked Runes as well, but your mum had a real head for numbers. For a while, she didn't know whether she wanted to study Charms or Arithmancy after school. I'm sure she'd have eventually pursued both."
"She was good at many things," Harry said softly. "A bit like Hermione, right?"
"Yes, and just like your dad you picked the brightest witch in the whole school as your girlfriend." Sirius laughed. "Unlike your dad, you actually managed to earn her regard right away, and be clever enough to ask her out before others noticed what a catch she is."
"Why didn't mum like dad at first? You said that she only began to like him in seventh year."
"Oh, baby, that's a talk for another time," Sirius said gently. "Write your permission for your friend at the newspaper, and remember to only give permission for this edition's articles. Until you've talked to Finch, it's better to keep as much control as you can. Once you've signed all his papers, he can deal with these things on your behalf." His sombre face once more turned mischievous. "I pay his firm an awful lot of money, let them earn it."
Harry grinned. "I will. Thanks for helping me out so much."
They reluctantly said their goodbyes and then Harry was left with the task of composing his writ to Levender, and go through a small stack of correspondence from Sharptooth. He dealt with both with much sighing and muttering, while the two snakelings commented his efforts in their dry, humourous way.
Nearly an hour later, he had approved Sharptooth's proposal to buy yet another plot of farm land with money from the basilisk fund. Apparently Dobby wanted more room to grow his plants, and as Potter's Field was as wild and and unruly as ever, Harry saw no reason not to grant his wish. The fifty hectares of land certainly had been cheap enough, and the owners, an old married couple, had been eager to part with it as they could no longer cultivate it and their children had no interest in farming.
The cost of warding such a huge area will be high, Harry pondered, nibbling on his sugar quill, but Sharptooth already said that Gringotts still has pieces of Malijar's Gift from the vein my ward stones came from, and that Chief Ragnock would grant me some credit. And Sirius might help out, if I ask.
But for some reason, the idea resisted Harry. So much so, in fact, that he even crossed out the note he'd already made, despite knowing that Sirius would probably try to pay for everything in an misguided attempt to right his imagined wrong-doings.
"What say you?" he asked the small piece of Malijar's Gift that was lying next to his notebook and shimmering in the flickering light of the fireplace. "Do we need help to secure our newest garden, or will we be able to manage on our own?"
Feeling a little silly, Harry grinned and nudged the little stone, only to feel a zing in his finger. Something flashed through his head, far too quickly to be called true information, although he was left with the definite sense of an impression.
It took a moment to parse out the complex meaning, but when he did, Harry huffed out a surprised breath. "Huh, okay. You might be right. The soil is rather depleted and Dobby might have to wait a year or two until he can actually plant things. There's no need to ward it right away." Harry cocked his head and stroked the stone. There wasn't another zing, but the little rock felt warm and exuded a little magical hum. He almost didn't feel stupid for saying, "Thanks for your advice."
Once the last class for the day was over, Harry rejoined his friends in the Gryffindor common room. There was a party going on and students of all years were discussing the articles. Most of the talk revolved around the clubs the students wanted to join, and around the large corner table the Gryffindor portion of the Paper Troupe was heatedly discussing the parents' petition to get Snape sacked.
"Seems like Lavender wants to make it the headline for the next edition," Fred said as he suddenly appeared next to Harry. "Can't say I blame her; he took fifty points from Katie earlier."
"What for?" Harry asked suspiciously.
"For showing an indecent amount of skin in a classroom full of explosive potions ingredients," George supplied, stepping up at Harry's other side and boxing him in.
"Of course-," Fred continued.
"Katie's the proper one-"
"Always dressed according to the rule book, not even a wrist out of line-"
"Pity that," the twins finished together.
"Er, okay. Snape was an arse, as usual." Harry was confused. "What's new?"
"It's not the first time he's commented on a girl's appearance during class," George said, all humour gone. "Last week, it was Penelope Clearwater. He found her hair too long and curly, and he took twenty points for sticking her ankle out from under her table while he lectured. Percy was seriously put out about it."
"And the week before, Snape hovered right behind Laura Madley from Ravenclaw as she brewed. Breathed down her neck, all creeper-like," Fred continued. "And she swears he was sniffing her hair."
Harry raised his eyebrows. He admittedly didn't know a whole lot about how men and women were supposed to treat each other, aside from being civil, but he very firmly knew that he didn't want Snape to comment on any aspect of Hermione's appearance, let alone sniffing her, and that naturally extended to all the other students at school.
"Does Professor McGonagall know?" he asked.
"Oh, she knows," Fred said.
"As do the other teachers. All the girls from our house appealed the point loss, but so far no luck." George scowled. "You see, Harrykins, we like girls. We'd like to ask them out to dates sometime in the near future, and having a pervert like Snape around significantly lowers our chances."
Fred smirked. "So-"
"-you and your ickle friends have until the end of the term to get Snape sacked."
"If not-"
"-we'll have to take things into our own hands-"
"-and Hogwarts might never get the grease stains out."
Both Fred and George looked perfectly sanguine saying such a thing, and they were waiting in mild anticipation of what Harry's reply would be.
"Er, okay," the bewildered boy said.
"Really?" George asked eagerly.
"I'm not sure why you're telling me this, but it's your funeral," Harry replied with a shrug. "I'll pass your message on to Lavender and Parvati, though."
Fred put an arm around Harry's shoulder and lowered his voice to a murmur. "Harry, Harry, Harry, it's not just about us doing everyone a favour. It's about giving the Potions Pervert a fair chance. Everyone deserves one, Dumbledore keeps telling us-"
"-and since you're the most heroic person we know, it falls to you to make sure The Pervert gets it," George finished. "As long as he leaves the school, we'll be happy."
"Quite happy, although I don't mind getting my hands dirty. It's the getting caught I'd have a problem with," Fred grinned. "I got my eye on Katie, you see, and the first Hogsmeade weekend is just a month away."
Harry sighed. "You're all crazy. Just because I keep getting into dangerous situations-"
"Don't whine about your Lord of Magic-given propensity for getting in trouble, Harrykins," George chuckled. "If it's your grumpy little visage the board of govenors will respond best to, that's who we'll appeal to."
"Easy, isn't it?" Fred added. He patted Harry's back. "Thanks for you support, we knew we could count on you."
They left like one body and Harry wandered on to the Herald meeting in a daze.
"What did they want now?" Hermione asked.
Harry clumsily pulled his permission for Lavender from his bag and handed it over. "They want Snape gone. Really, really gone. Did the older girls tell you that he's, uh, harassing them? During class?"
Lavender's nostrils flared and she straightened up. "Course they did, Katie Bell was here just now. She warned us and gave us tips for books on magical self-defence. It's disgusting! He's never been like that with us, but we're not yet fifteen, are we?"
Harry felt a new wave of fury roar through his body. "How long has this been going on?"
"At least three years, because one girl from seventh year said he was like that with her sister last year, too," Parvati said. "That's why Lavender wants to make it the headline. It got a little loud there for a moment, sorry for that."
"There's no need," Harry said. "If I were a girl, I'd be creeped out, too."
"Really?" a distraught Penelope Clearwater asked quietly from her perch on the sofa. "Many of the boys tell us that we're imagining things, and that we should at least split the front page with something else, so that their interests will be covered, too."
"I know I'm not a member of the Paper Club, but I don't care," Harry said, voice tight. "If fifteen's too young for marriage contracts-"
"It is," Hermione insisted, earning several nods from other muggle-born students.
"-then it's definitely too young to be stalked by a grown man," Harry finished. He glared at Seamus, who was mulishly glaring back.
"Have you even thought about how easy it would be for Snape to go a step further?" Hermione asked into the tense silence. "He told us so himself during our first class in first year. He knows how to ensnare the senses and bewitch the mind. All it'd take is one sip of a potion. He might be interested in girls, but what if it were boys?"
"No one is that perverted," Seamus argued, face an interesting study in pale, nearly grey skin and flushed cheeks.
"Oh, so it is something us women and girls just have to deal with?" Hermione hissed. She rounded on him, poking her finger into his chest. "I hope you'll never experience what it is like to be threatened sexually by someone who's older and stronger than you! Who just does what he wants and doesn't give a shit about your feelings on the matter!"
"You're exaggerating!" Seamus cried as he stepped back. "Besides, it's just half of the front page! You can have the other half for your crusade! Dean, say something!"
Dean shook his head. "Sorry, mate, but I have a younger sister who'll probably start here in a couple of years. You bet your bollocks that I don't want stuff like that happening to her."
"Thank you," Hermione said graciously.
"We don't want a witch hunt, but we do need to investigate this matter, because the law is not on us women's side," Lavender said, and there was some finality to her words. "I want a mixed team on it. Dean, you game?"
"Sure," Dean said.
"Good, find one or two other boys from the other houses. Same number of girls. Hermione?"
Hermione nodded. "Of course."
"You always choose the hard topics," Harry said quietly after the stand-off was over and they had a moment to themselves. "Are you sure you want to do it? Snape will notice, sooner or later."
"Let him," Hermione answered just as quietly. "To be honest, I'm counting on him to lose his composure. It'll support our case quite well."
"He's dangerous," Harry warned unhappily.
She smiled at him. "I thank you for your concern, truly. I promise that I won't be reckless, and that I'll keep Professor McGonagall in the loop at all times. Knowing Neville, he'll volunteer to do the same with his grandmother, and she's got quite a bit of weight to throw around."
Harry hoped that it would be enough, but knew not to be optimistic. "I'll ask a house elf to follow him around," he murmured stubbornly. "And I'll ask them to hit Snape when he's acting like a creep."
"My hero," Hermione teased. Her pretty eyes were sparking with magic, and her smile was making Harry stupid.
"I think I'd really like to kiss you now," he confessed.
Her smile grew wider. "Really? I'd quite like to kiss you, as well. Tomorrow, then." Unseen from the others, her fingers touched his. "After I've tormented you."
Harry could hardly imagine a better reward for suffering through her exercises and nodded.
Unfortunately, Ginny chose that moment to break up their tête-à-tête and asked for advice on an essay for Charms. Other second years followed and so Harry and Hermione let themselves be badgered into helping and managed to finish some of their own work as well before the dinner bell rang.
During dinner, Harry, who had no interest into a renewed discussion about Snape or the Herald, ended up sitting next to Percy Weasley, of all people. Not knowing the older boy very well, Harry nonetheless resolved to make the best of it and started a conversation.
"So, how are you?" he asked only a little awkwardly. "Ron told us that Scabbers died during the holidays; that must've been hard for you. Ron got him from you, didn't he?"
Surprised, Percy lowered his thick book on Transfiguration. "Well, yes. I had him for a long time."
"I'm sorry," Harry offered, to which Percy uttered his thanks. "Do you know how it happened? Was it a cat? Ron seems to think so."
Percy shrugged. "No idea, really. One day, he was just gone."
"That's harsh." Harry eased up a little and ate a few bites of his dinner. Then, he said, "Ron might want a new pet. He's been a bit ... weird, lately."
"As I've told our parents," Percy replied, eyes still firmly on his text.
"And?"
With a sigh, Percy finally looked up. "Why are you so persistent?"
Harry decided that honesty would most likely get him the answers he wanted, and so he bluntly said, "Because Ron's a huge pain in the arse, to all of us. We think he's maybe sick, so we're worried."
"Ah." Percy frowned a little. "Yes, I can see how you would come to that conclusion. Well ..." He cleared his throat. "Ginny wasn't well, after what happened to her last year, and the summer was, er, difficult."
"Okay." In a near whisper, Harry added, "You know I gave everyone who was hurt by the basilisk money. I wanted Ginny to use hers for a doctor. Has she seen one?"
"Not that I know of," Percy admitted unhappily. "Although she most decidedly had need of one. I told my father this, as did my older brothers, but mum was convinced that she just needs time."
"Well, Ginny's been strange all month, as well," Harry argued. "Can't you ask your dad to reconsider? Honestly, I gave everyone that money for a reason. I still have nightmares, and I'm sure Ron and Ginny do, too."
"You're very kind," Percy said genuinely, if a little stiffly. "I will write my family posthaste and convey your message."
"It's not a message," Harry insisted. "I'm just worried. I want your family to be fine, and I want Ron to be my friend again."
Percy's pinched expression softened a little further. "I appreciate that you're willing to try. He is being quite annoying, isn't he?"
To Harry's surprise, the boy, once warmed up, seemed to actually want to continue the conversation, and so they talked about their favourite subjects and what they wanted to do after school. Harry had no idea as of yet, but Percy was quite set on working for the Ministry.
"I like rules," Percy said when Harry professed his scepticism. "They make it easy to do your work, and they order life quite nicely, don't they?"
"Uh, I suppose so," Harry said. "I don't know much about everyday law, and I've never thought about rules like you do. I just know that things are sort of ... imbalanced at the Ministry, right now."
"How so?" Percy inquired politely, if a little amused.
Harry shrugged. "You know, in favour of pureblood wizards. Hermione showed me a statistic of how many men and women work at the Ministry, and how many of them are halfbloods or mundane-born. She doesn't want to work there, even though it could be interesting, because she'd be paid so much less than a pureblood in the same position, if she even got employed at all."
Percy looked surprised. "Huh. Well, I suppose it's how things have always been."
"Yeah, for centuries," Harry pressed, although not without a little smirk. "I guess it doesn't make a difference for you, being male and a pureblood, so it should be alright."
"Hm."
"What about Penny?" Harry went on. "Where does she want to work after school? Do you think you'll still be together then?"
"I sure hope so," Percy said and flushed a little. "You're very curious tonight, Harry. What brought this on?"
Harry shrugged and grinned, the little misdirection coming easily. "Just trying to learn how it works. I've got a few pretty girls in my year, and our first Hogsmeade trip is coming up."
Percy grinned back. "You certainly do." His smile quickly turned rueful. "Though I'm not a good teacher when it comes to girls. I think Penny just felt sorry for me when I finally managed to ask her out."
"But you obviously did something right," Harry said, unconcerned. "She's been with you for a while now."
A bit perplexed, Percy hummed his agreement. "Guess playing Quidditch or having money isn't everything, after all."
"Ouch," Harry said and laughed when Percy spluttered an apology.
oOo
Later, as the third year Griffindor boys were readying themselves for bed, Ron regrettably ended his self-imposed silence and asked, "What were you doing talking to Percy of all people?"
Seamus and Dean and even Neville paused to hear Harry's answer.
"There was a free spot next to him," Harry countered. "Also, none of your business."
"He's so stuffy and boring," Ron scoffed. "What could you even have in common?"
"Yeah, Percy's a bit stuck up," Dean agreed, albeit unwillingly. "Looked like you were having fun, of all things, though."
Harry frowned. "He was friendly, if you must know. We talked about school a bit, and careers, and Penny. She's his girlfriend."
"No idea how he got her to notice him," Ron muttered. "Been together six months or thereabouts, though. Mum's right proud of him for that."
"Why did you talk about his girlfriend?" Neville asked in confusion.
"It just came up." Harry tugged off his shoes and tie and started on the buttons of his shirt. "I, er, asked whether he plans on staying together with her after Hogwarts."
"So what if he does?" Seamus asked.
"Well, he seems so serious about her, and he's just seventeen," Harry explained. "He always gets the doors for her, and he carries her things between classes."
"Boring," Ron whined. "So what if he wants to marry her? Many magicals marry young. Even your parents did, and your mum was muggle-born."
Neville cleared his throat. "Actually it's quite rare to find a match so young if it isn't by contract. Maybe Penny and Percy fit really well. I think that's romantic."
"But why would you notice, Harry?" Dean asked, bewildered. "Do you fancy someone? Don't tell me you're thinking about marriage!"
Before Harry could deny it, Seamus already cried, "I call dibs on Lavender! She's got huge boobs, and her face isn't too bad either!"
"Too late, Finnigan, she's having a drink with me on Halloween," Dean said smugly.
"But it's not a date," Seamus shot back. "She told you."
"Yeah, but she won't date anyone, so it's still a win," Dean countered.
Harry grinned at Neville and winked. "I guess Lavender is off the table for us."
Neville just shook his head. "She'd eat me alive, anyway."
"What about you, Harry?" Ron demanded. "Who're you interested in? People don't talk to Percy about girls for no reason."
It was startingly insightful, and for a moment, Harry didn't know how to react.
"Er ..."
"I bet it's Ginny." Ron's eyes narrowed.
"What? No." Harry was appalled.
"Come on, there's no reason to deny it. You saved her from a big, ruddy snake," Ron said. "You like her."
"Yeah, enough to save her from a big, ruddy snake," Harry retorted, "but that's all. Besides, have you seen her? She looks almost like my mum did at that age. No, thanks."
"That'd be awkward," Dean agreed, and Seamus also looked a bit disturbed.
"I don't think Harry needs to fancy anyone specific to think about girls," Neville said to head Ron off from blowing his top. "I know I do; my grandma's begun to hint at contracts and asked about the girls here." He shrugged when everyone gaped at him. "I'm a pureblood, it's been done that way since forever. Doesn't mean she'll actually offer someone a contract, but, well. I'll be fifteen in two years, and I guess she doesn't want to field too many offers for me, or write them on my behalf. "
"What, she wants to get you engaged before people can swamp her with offers? Because she's lazy?" Dean snorted with laughter. "That's kind of harsh, man."
Neville shrugged. "She has no patience for nonsense, so if there were a girl I liked, and who liked me enough to get engaged, why not? Negotiations can be brutal. If it's a good contract, you don't have to get married if you don't think it's a good idea after all."
"My parents probably won't do that," Ron said, disgruntled but thankfully willing to not pursue the topic of Harry's supposed interest in his sister. "What with seven kids and all. You need a lawyer for that, and they're expensive."
"Doing it without one would probably be a right mess," Seamus snorted. "Also, can you imagine Fred and George just accepting a contract your parents set up? They'd rather set the world on fire."
The boys had a good laugh about that one, only Harry knowing how right Seamus' blasé words were. For the girls they fancied, they'd at least set Snape on fire, and Harry suspected that the world wouldn't be too far behind if push came to shove.
It was such a strange thought, but also a humbling one, for he was pretty sure that he'd do the same to protect Hermione against anyone who wanted to harm her.
oOo
Saturday morning proved to be an exercise in stealth and avoidance. Harry, intent on getting up early and sneaking out with Hermione, was caught by Ron as he went to the loo and was forced to return to his bed and spell his hangings shut, lest the other boy follow him there. Thankfully, Betty was more than willing to dress him with a snap of her fingers and transport him directly to the Come and Go Room. Hermione appeared there a few minutes later, Crookshanks hanging in her arms like a stuffed toy.
"I'm so sorry," Harry said, taking the large feline from her arms and setting him down after an apologetic scratch to his ears. "Ron was awake."
"Say no more," Hermione replied with a sigh. "Did he want something?"
"Yes, talk." Harry pulled a grimace. "He's convinced that I'm fancying Ginny, just because I talked to Percy last night."
"Start at the beginning," Hermione said. "I saw you talking to Percy, but how in the world did Ron leap to that conclusion?"
And so Harry told her all about his talk with Percy. To his relief, Hermione didn't think it underhanded to question the boy about his siblings with regards to the basilisk money, and she even seemed proud that Harry had made an effort to understand Percy better.
"It's not easy being social," she confessed. "Most people don't believe it, but I'm not actually very outgoing. It takes courage, engaging someone in conversation and actually listening to them. I'm sure Percy enjoyed talking to you, Harry, even if he didn't show it outright. He has so few friends."
"I did enjoy it," Harry admitted. "Even talking about Penny. And let me tell you that Percy is still right brassed off about Snape's weird behaviour towards her. He told me he bit his tongue bloody so he wouldn't make it worse for her in class, but Madam Pomfrey later had to heal it."
"Wow, he has some hidden depths. I think I understand now why Penny likes him so much," Hermione confessed. "He's apparently serious about her."
"Yeah ... Are you worried that Ron thinks I might like Ginny?" Harry asked, uncomfortable.
Hermione took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Of course not, Harry. You promised to tell me if you ever change your mind about us, and I trust you to do that. Ron doesn't know any better, it's not his fault that he came to the wrong conclusion."
"Yeah, and apparantly Percy is such an unlikeable git that I can't possibly want to talk to him without being actually after his sister," Harry huffed. "I'm sort of planning on proving Ron wrong."
"Well, I'm sure both you and Percy would benefit from it," Hermione replied with an arch smile. "With the added benefit of blowing all of his brothers' minds."
After a good chuckle, they got changed and met again on the mats. Hermione let Harry do all the usual warm-up exercises, but added a new throw to the lesson and made him repeat it after every failure until his whole body went warm and languid.
"I think my muscles are melting," Harry groaned once she'd released him. "And I don't think I'll be able to get up again. Maybe not even with help."
"That will pass," Hermione said sagely and bent over her right leg in an impossible-seeming stretch. "You're doing really well. I thought we might start swimming lessons after in the new year, just to mix things up a bit."
Harry had nearly forgotten about that promise. "Oh! Right." Crookshanks crawled up his body and snuggled in on his stomach. "Does he want to learn as well?"
Grinning, Hermione patted the cat's fluffy head. "It's more like he wants to protect you from me. He's not exactly a fan of water."
"She won't let me drown," Harry told Crookshanks. "It's in the girlfriend handbook."
Crookshanks meowed, sounding decidedly doubtful, and Hermione laughed.
"Can I ask you something?" Harry asked, suddenly sobering. "It's got to do with Ron and Ginny."
"Sure."
Harry swallowed. "When my account manager at Gringotts dealt with the basilisk funds for the petrified people, he advised me to give Ron and Ginny 5,000 galleons each, instead of 10,000 each like the others. It seemed fine when he explained, but now I'm wondering ... was it unfair? Should I top their trust funds off?"
"Stop right there, Harry," Hermione said calmly. "First of all, no one has a right to expect anything out of you. It was very generous of you to set those trust funds up in the first place, and it's your prerogative to implement stipulations."
"It feels like I was too strict," Harry murmured. "I mean, Ginny's been a victim, and she had it much worse than the others. And the Weasleys don't have a lot of money, so what if they want to save for Ginny and Ron's futures, instead of getting them help now? I, uh, I can understand that."
"I know, but that's just short-sighted of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said gently. "You're not Ron and Ginny's parent, Harry. You must leave the decision where it belongs, even if you feel it's not the right one." She thought for a moment. "What were Sharptooth's reasons to halve the amount for Ginny? And give Ron something, even though he didn't really do anything to help?"
"Well, Sharptooth said that Ginny should've told her family what was happening," Harry muttered. "That she shouldn't have written in a journal of uncertain origin, especially when it wrote back."
"He's not wrong," Hermione said quietly. "And before you argue that she was only eleven years old, consider that Ginny is from a magical family, and that her own father works in a department that specifically deals with spelled and cursed artifacts. I mean, how much more ironic could Lucius Malfoy get by slipping it among Ginny's things? He must've suspected that she'd be irresponsible, but - and I really don't want to defend him! - he also gave her a fair chance of avoiding the mess that unfortunately happened."
Harry hadn't ever thought that far, but now that Hermione had mentioned it, Mr. Malfoy's evilness seemed both greater and sort of diminished to him. "You think Mr. Malfoy actually gave Ginny a way out?"
"Oh, I'm almost sure. He does have a child her age, after all." Hermione went on, "Think about it: Ginny definitely should've known better than to just use that book for so long. She could have turned it over to her father, who could have found out what it is, or at least given it to people who could. That she didn't is a tragedy." She took a breath. "Since Ginny was still a victim of Riddle and the basilisk, letting her have some money for a healer is not only generous, it's sensible. We just can't know what a possession like that does to a person. Sharptooth obviously didn't intend the money to be some kind of reward to Ginny, and it really shouldn't be, considering what she did wrong. By suggesting to give Ron the other half of the 10,000 galleons, he actually struck a great compromise, as those'll still be there when they're both grown up. Even if they share, 2500 galleons is nothing to sneeze at!"
"So you agree with Sharptooth's advice," Harry reflected, calming a little at her rational words.
"I do, Harry." Hermione laid down and placed her head on Harry's shoulder, snuggling against him and leeching his warmth much like Crookshanks did on his stomach. "It's got nothing to do with how much you can give, and everything to do with setting boundaries and showing that actions have consequences. I'd rather say that Ginny can do with that lesson; she's being terribly spoiled by her parents, being the only girl amongst so many boys. One would think Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would do everything in their power to get her the help she needs, and it's a little horrifying that they won't."
"I don't think I can accept them not using the money for a healer," Harry confessed, turning his head towards her. "If they love her so much, why won't they do it?"
"That's not for us to know, unfortunately," Hermione said. Her hand was steadily stroking Crookshank's fur, the cat rewarding her with deep, pleased rumbles. "Maybe Percy or the twins will be able to find out, but it's out of your hands for now."
Harry wanted to argue that it felt wrong to do that, and that he couldn't possibly leave someone he knew and liked to suffer needlessly, but he'd had that argument more than once with several intelligent people, and everyone had given him the same answer. With Hermione's calm support, he was almost ready to let it drop, and it felt surprisingly good to relieve himself of that sort of responsibility.
"Maybe it's the wrong thing to say, since you're struggling so much with it, but it's one of the things I really love about you, Harry," Hermione whispered a moment later. "That you won't give up on your friends."
"Even if it's stupid?" Harry questioned, raising his left hand to do pet Hermione's wild hair.
"Especially then," she replied, her voice fading. "Mmh, that's nice ... let's leave breakfast for a few moments longer, please ..."
oOo
With a whole weekend at hand to run wild, the students did just that: The Hogwarts Herald was argued over during meal times and in every corner of the castle, and then sent off to parents who previously hadn't been interested enough to pre-order one for themselves. Dumbledore tried to curb the enthusiasm just once, mainly in defence of Professor Snape, who got loud boos as he entered the Great Hall, but for once the students refused to bow to his disappointed grandfatherly looks.
"Hah, Snape got out of here like a bat out of hell," Ron mumbled through his mouthful of mashed potatoes. "'M not a fan of that newspaper nonsense, but that worked out fantastic."
"You're still calling that newspaper nonsense?" Lavender asked dangerously.
Ron levelled such a condescending look at her that the people around him scooted away in anticipation of spell fire. "Sure. All that stuff about Snape and Buckbeak is well and good for you to vent your spleen, but nothing will change. You do know that, right? Dumbledore won't fire Snape; you're not the first ones to complain about him."
"But we're the first ones to launch an organized campaign," Hermione answered coldly. "We know that Dumbledore won't help us, why do you think I've written up the petition to the parents? And involved the board of govenors? And mentioned in my article that Harry is being tutored now because Snape threw him out of his class? A class that's mandatory, no less."
"Not only me, 'Mione," Harry reminded her, but she waved that away as unimportant.
"Still won't do any good," Ron gloated. "I tell you, it's a waste of time. Could be much better spent playing Quidditch or Exploding Snap, or even Seamus' weird socket ball."
"It's soccer, Weasley," Seamus scowled.
"Oh, shove off, Weasley," Lavender hissed crossly. "The newspaper is not a waste of time! Buckbeak won't die, and Snape will get fired! Just watch us!"
"Hah," Ron snorted.
Harry had enough of the boy's behaviour and said, "Who's coming to visit Hagrid later? Colin, why don't you bring your camera? Let's shoot a picture to show our support for Buckbeak. We can paint a banner and everything."
"Of course, Harry!" Colin called, nearly toppling over his goblet.
"It's a month until our next release, but we could send Buckbeak's owner the picture," Hermione said. "Maybe some photos of us riding him would be good, as well, to show that he's not dangerous."
Harry suddenly felt very stupid as a thought struck him. "Er, why can we even still fly on him if the Ministry has labelled him dangerous?"
The rest of the students around him looked gobsmacked.
"Right," Parvati said, shaking her head. "We probably should mention that somewhere, to show the Ministry's incompetence."
"Only if we have to. I don't want them to take Buckbeak away from Hagrid," Harry argued. "Buckbeak and Hagrid, and Mr. Papageorgiou, don't deserve that."
"No, they certainly don't," Hermione agreed at once. "Dean, will you paint the banner for us?"
The boy shrugged. "Sure, just tell me what you want on it."
At once, the Gryffindor members of the Paper Troupe set off to the other tables. In a matter of minutes, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs and even three Slytherins, including Zabini, were squeezing around Lavender and Parvati and discussing banner lines and the best photo options.
Harry became a little worried when Colin began to talk about having him fly figures on the hippogriff.
"Shouldn't someone rein him in?" he asked. "I'm pretty sure Buckbeak can't fly upside down."
"But he might possibly manage barrel rolls?" Hermione countered archly. "Sometimes you worry me, Harry."
"Well, barrel rolls might be fun," Harry said defensively. "But not when people can see."
"People with cameras, you mean."
"Right." Harry grinned. "You could come with, let Agapi have some fun as well. She likes you."
Hermione flushed slightly. "Maybe. And only if the weather holds."
Under the table, Harry held her hand, while doing his best not to smile too soppily at her. Ginny was already looking on, and Ron's pinched expression could only mean trouble.
After lunch, Harry let Hermione take him to the library, where Zabini found them not much later.
"So, will Longbottom join our Potions class sometime soon?" the Slytherin asked without preamble. "After that article in the Herald, his life might be in danger in Snape's class."
"Yeah, his grandmother sent permission on Thursday," Harry replied. Opening Tuva's textbook, he frowned. "I hope you can be civil to him. He's a good guy."
"Oh, I know how to play nice," Zabini assured him, utterly unfazed. "The Longbottoms are an old family, nearly noble. Besides, they produce the best potions ingredients in Great Britain. It'd be a boon to be on good terms with the scion of the business."
"Undoubtedly," Hermione murmured with a secret smile.
Together, they made good progress on their homework and even got a good start on Madam Sprout's essay for the week before Harry admitted his need for a break.
"It's surprisingly efficient, working with you two," Zabini said as they were packing up their things around half five. "You've got some fantastic books there, Granger. They're definitely not part of the Hogwarts library."
"It pays to have a huge educational trust fund," Hermione replied with a pleased smile. "Mr. Flourish and Mr. Blotts are very invested in getting me everything I ask for."
Zabini outright laughed at that. "I bet they are. However, there are several international magical book sellers who might broaden your horizon even further. It'd be no trouble to get you some catalogues, and reading lists from universities."
"Thank you," she said, surprised at the offer. "I think I'd like that very much."
Harry didn't like Zabini's offer at all but kept quiet. If Hermione managed to trust him regarding Ginny, it'd be in poor taste to act like an idiot just because a boy was nice to her. After all, her loving books was hardly a secret!
They arranged to meet in the Great Hall after dropping off their book bags and getting dressed for their visit to the hippogriffs.
As it turned out, they were late to the party; other students of all houses and years greeted them there, a few of them actually engaged with a hippogriff to practice the greeting under Hagrid's watchful eyes. Colin had brought his camera and Dean had indeed managed to make an impressive banner for the students to hold. The hippogriffs endured the commotion with a lot of bribery and seemed content enough to get pets and scratches, but their ill temper couldn't be denied after a while.
"The flashes hurt their eyes," Hagrid explained after he'd called a stop to Colin's eager snapping. "They got big eyes, yeh see, very sensitive ter light. It's what makes 'em such good hunters. Can spot prey from three miles away if they're real hungry!"
"Three miles?" Cho Chang from Ravenclaw asked doubtfully. "In our book it says one mile, and that was already generous."
"Them writers don't know everything," Hagrid replied, easily slipping into lecturing. "Hippogriffs, they're wild and strong. They need freedom, for what would they want with wings and claws like tha' if they're standing around all day, heh?" He patted Buckbeak and rubbed his neck. "Nah, they're not pets, no matter how well yeh get on with 'em. They hunt when they're hungry an' no' before, and the hunger makes 'em eyes sharp like a piercing charm to the heart."
"How?" Hermione asked, intrigued.
"Magic, of course," Hagrid smiled. "Sort of like accidental magic, except not. They feel hunger and magic helps with the hunt. Proud an' noble, that's what hippogriffs are. Ne'er taking more than they need, bu' not afraid ter take it when it becomes necessary. The innate magic makes 'em feathers good cores for wands, too."
"I don't know anyone who has a hippogriff feather in their wand," Ginny challenged. "What is it even good for?"
"They're very common in Greece," Hagrid explained. "Matching them people's tempers, 'ight? Makes fer fierce displays of magic, especially for duelling, though not so much fer law enforcement. I knew a lass once who really knew 'ow to swish it. Quite lovely, she was."
Ginny huffed as the students laughed and Hagrid blushed a little. After weeks of misery, he was finally smiling again and clearly pleased with how well his tea hour had gone. As the children said their goodbyes, Hagrid pressed a letter into Harry's hand.
"From my friend," he rumbled quietly. "Everythin's well, or as well as can be."
"He's not mad?" Hermione questioned just as quietly.
Hagrid scratched his beard thoughtfully. "He's proper mad at Lucius Malfoy, and mad at the Ministry too, but I haven't lost my friend, yet. An' I'll do my best not ter lose him now. It was good of you to remind me ter write that letter, Hermione."