"Good?" Harry asked. At Blue's satisfied nod, he smiled. "Alright, then let's go to bed. But tell me first how you managed to come here."
"I begged the favourite," Blue admitted sleepily. "He finally asked your elf friend to take me."
"Will you go back in the morning?" Harry gently caressed the grey-blue scales. "They'll miss you at Gringotts."
"Don't like the snake house. Food is not as good there. I want to stay with Harry."
Touched, Harry helped Blue curl into a small ball in both his hands. "You'd miss your siblings."
"I can go visit," Blue returned stubbornly. "And they can come here. Little sister also misses you, but goblins want to make sure she's healthy. The favourite wouldn't allow her to go."
"What about your other sister and the silent one?" Harry asked. "Are they well?"
"Very well. Sister wants the favourite, and brother likes to meet other snakes and explore the goblin dwelling." Blue snuggled down. "They miss you, but there are many adventures for them to seek."
"But not for you?" Harry wondered, throat a little tight. "I don't want you to miss out."
"I won't," Blue insisted. "Hogwarts is big, there'll be many mice for me to eat when I'm older. Until then I want to be with Harry."
"Alright." The little man's persistence was tugging on Harry's heartstrings and he admitted defeat. "We'll try to make it happen. It might take a while, though."
"I'm going to grow very old," Blue hissed contentedly. "I've got lots and lots of time."
Harry cooed at the little bundle of snake in his hands and loathed himself for having to put his friend down to grab his wand for the protection spell against accidental squishing. Once that was done, however, he curled protectively around his bedmate and allowed himself to feel the blossoming affection for the stubborn little thing.
Despite having no dreams of France or Sirius, Harry slept very well that night.
oOo
On Sunday, Harry hid himself away most of the time. Partly he wanted to get his homework for next week done, and partly he just wanted to spend time with Blue and as many of his house elves as would answer his call. There was a staggering number of reports about his family home to listen to, which Dobby promised to show him in his dreams as soon as he'd seen everything.
"Death snake be good fellow for Harry Potter sir," Dobby told Harry after thoroughly inspecting the snakeling. Blue around Harry's neck preened and opened his hood in a display for the curious house elves. "He be hungry, but Harry Potter sir be strong enough to feed him."
"All four of them weren't a problem, so feeding only Blue won't be a hardship," Harry explained. "You might have to take him back to Gringotts soon, though, but I won't send him back if he doesn't want to go. Can you tell Brady, please?"
"Harry Potter sir's Brady already knows. He be caring for Harry Potter sir's Blue snake's mental wellbeing. That's why he be sending Blue snake back to Hogwarts."
"I was very sad," Blue hissed slyly. "The favourite is a good Speaker. Very gentle and always attentive to our needs."
"You mean he's a pushover," Harry laughed. "I don't think he'll be when it counts, though. Goldie better not think that she can boss him around forever."
Blue merely flicked out his tongue and hissed nonsense, much like the snake equivalent of a raspberry. "Where is your female?"
"Hermione? She's down in the Chamber of Secrets, she wanted to try brewing her first goblin potion." Harry looked at Dobby. "There is one of you with Hermione in the Chamber to make sure she won't get hurt, right?"
"Jules went," Dobby said. "He be wanting to learn more. He also be asking whether he may find more elves like him, because we be needing more teachers. Dobby also wouldn't mind help with Harry Potter sir's affairs."
"What do you think about that?" Harry asked, frowning a little. "Can we afford to keep more house elves? I know that it is Jules' job to determine such things now, but he might be a little biased."
Dobby's ears twitched and his large eyes bulged with suppressed excitement. "There be room for more, Harry Potter sir. Harry Potter sir be such a good, brave wizard, wanting to care for damaged house elves."
"They're not damaged," Harry said, looking from Dobby to the rest of the loitering house elves. "They have different talents. And we need as many different talents as we can find to help our family survive against Riddle."
The elves nodded vigorously.
Harry continued, "Please don't pick on Jules, or any other house elves like him. Even if you can't be friends for some reason, treat them with respect."
"We will!" the horde squeaked.
"Thanks, you guys," Harry beamed. "I knew I could count on you! Now, who of you wants to report on our guest house in France? Yes, Dory?"
oOo
At five, Harry had his usual talk with Brady, still over the Floo in the Come and Go Room.
"How did Healer Spleenbash take the news?" Harry asked once the pleasantries were dealt with. "Was she very angry?"
"She sent a Howler to the ICW, demanding Dumbledore's head on a pike," Healer Williams replied dryly. In the green fire, his shoulder-length dark hair looked a bit like writhing snakes on a Medusa's head. "This should prompt an inquest into any and all of Dumbledore's activities on your behalf, both financial and other, including your complete medical history. It'll be unpleasant, but since you're a minor, no details will be published anywhere, unless you agree."
Harry heaved a sigh of relief. "Okay. Uhm, Hermione said that the ICW might have to order our Ministry to call off the dementors. Has Mr. Walker done something to that effect already?"
"It was one of the first demands he has slapped on the ICW representative's desk. I haven't heard anything about it and I don't think we will until they're ready to move. For all of your sakes at Hogwarts I certainly hope that they'll be ready very soon." Williams relaxed a little. "How are things aside from that? Any strange happenings around the Weasleys?"
"No, well, Ginny tried to corner Hermione into personal tutoring, but Hermione resisted, and now we both know about this mentoring thing. It's annoying, but we're alright for now, I think." Harry frowned. "Ron's been quiet these last few days, though. Huh. Too quiet, now that I think about it."
"Time for another revealing charm?"
"I guess so." Harry smiled weakly. "With Blue here, I might not even have to cast it, just end the spells and be done with it."
"Ah, yes, you told me that he can see and taste magic. A very useful gift." Williams smiled, slipping into parseltongue for the snakeling's benefit. "He can stay for a while, but the goblins would like to have him back in a week or so, to check up on him."
Blue lifted his head from Harry's collar and nodded. "Rude boy needs supervision. He's constantly in trouble, and making trouble for Harry."
"I'll talk to Sirius after this, but did you find anything about the family magic thing?" Harry asked. "He was pretty sure that that could be what's making Ron act so weirdly."
"Not as of yet, I'm sorry," Williams said. "Family magic is a difficult thing to investigate because it's so private. Our best bet would be to find a member of the family who's agreeable to poking around a bit. Your father is on it, so don't worry. If something comes up, you'll know."
"Okay."
"What else is new?" Williams asked. "How are classes? Are you still doing well in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy?"
Glad to change the topic, Harry launched into a retelling of last week, describing his interactions with the students from the other houses, and even admitting to feeling a little proud about being able to teach his spell to others.
"It wasn't a hard spell, but it still felt good," Harry concluded. "Even Goyle can do it perfectly now, although he isn't nearly as dumb as he lets other people believe. I also think he's pretty good at using magic, actually."
"What does your other acquaintance from Slytherin think about that?" Williams asked. "Will he make trouble for this Mr. Goyle?"
"I don't think so. Zabini doesn't like most people in his house, and Goyle probably won't make trouble for Zabini as long as they both keep mum about working okay with Gryffindors." Harry shrugged. "House politics are stupid, but whatever they need to get through school, right?"
Williams laughed quietly. "Right. I think you're doing well, all things considered. It never hurts to have contacts, even if they aren't real friends."
"Even acquaintance might be a stretch," Harry admitted. "Goyle's pretty reclusive when he isn't doing whatever Malfoy tells him to do."
"Let's hope that the Malfoy boy won't get Mr. Goyle into real trouble. As you grow older, the punishments for wrong-doing could well ruin someone's life."
Harry scowled. "I'm not signing up to play babysitter for a Slytherin."
"I'm not asking you to. But remember our talk from the summer, about how people your age are difficult for you to assess. You're being confronted with their nuances now, and many of them. Is Mr. Zabini not still a prime example?"
"I don't know about that," Harry grumbled. "He keeps paying a lot of attention to Hermione and I don't know whether he's serious or only trying to rile me up."
"Well, telling her how to get into the IWL and where to find university reading lists for all kinds of studies sure earned him points," Williams replied with a too straight face. "With her and with you. If he's trying to tease you, it's not meant maliciously."
"I know." Harry sighed impatiently. "As long as he doesn't ask her out he's alright, I suppose."
Now Healer Williams did grin. "Good boy."
"But Goyle's different. I can't get his measure."
"Yet. It's only been a week, give it time. You already know that he has a background, a history, just like you do. And you know that he's struggling to get through Hogwarts without attracting much attention. Think about what that might mean."
"That'll make things really complicated," Harry huffed. He petted Blue, who was flicking his cheek with his tongue, syphoning off a little of the agitated magic Harry could feel drifting over his skin. "I'm not sure I can deal with more complicated right now."
"You're doing astoundingly well so far," Williams teased, laughing at Harry's disgruntled face. "You haven't even asked about the time-turner yet. I hope that means that you'll abandon that idea; it's not healthy to use one longterm, anyway."
"It would be good to have a few more hours just for sleep and stuff," Harry said, "but I'm not as into it as Hermione."
"Let's wait a little longer and see how things settle for you. Maybe next year would be a better time, when your school work gets heavier and your responsibilities grow. Your father isn't completely set against it, he just doesn't want to hand you a tool that could seriously harm you."
"It's really fine. Just don't be ..." Harry hesitated.
"Don't be what, Harry?"
Scraping together his courage, Harry muttered, "Disappointed. Because I'm taking so long to learn important things. I know how that makes everything ten times more difficult that it has to be, and I'm sorry."
"Ah, Harry, you have to know that no one, least of all Sirius, would ever blame you for something that's not your fault," Brady said with a rough sort of gentleness. "Talk to him and get this out of the way, because unreasonable expectations for yourself can do terrible harm."
"To what? My self-esteem?" Harry asked, picking at the hem of his pullover sleeve.
"Yes, but also to your physical health. Stressing yourself out helps no one, except the dark wizard after you. You'd only suffer from sleeplessness, gastrointestinal distress, mood swings, anxiety, loss of appetite, diminished mental and physical acuity, nightmares ..."
"Yeah, okay, I get it."
"Do you?" Williams asked. "Stress is a killer, Harry. It kills people every day. Don't make the mistake of falling prey to stress of your own making when it really isn't necessary."
"Do you honestly think one talk with Sirius will make that go away?" Harry asked dubiously.
"Maybe not one talk," Williams allowed. "But he loves you, and will listen to you as often as you need him to. Trust him to care for you. He wants that burden, and if you're worried whether he can shoulder it, you needn't be. He is ready for it."
"I'll ask you about that often," Harry threatened. "I want him to be healthy, too."
"That's a deal." Williams smiled. From his end of the connection, a chime sounded. "Our time's already up, and I think you've had enough of me for now. Call Sirius, he's waiting."
They said their goodbyes and when the Floo fire had winked out, Blue slithered into the fireplace and crawled through the magical residue.
"Don't tell me you want a bath in the Floo fire," Harry said. "It's not hot, but what if you get sucked to Italy? I'd never hear the end of it."
"Won't happen," Blue hissed. "I have never tasted Harry's father properly. Want a taste now, so I'll know not to bite."
"Let me start the call and you can stick the tip of your tail in first," Harry cautioned. "I won't let you get hurt."
Blue agreed, eagerly watching as Harry threw a handful of Floo powder in the hearth and shouted the adress to Sirius' chamber in Gringotts at Rome.
"Hey, pup," Sirius said, pale eyes soaking up Harry's sight. "How are you? Is old Bathsheda still out?"
"Yeah, Madam Pomfrey decided to keep her in the infirmary until tomorrow." Harry rolled his eyes. "I won't forget to cancel any of my spells ever again."
"Good." Sirius suddenly jumped and laughed. "What in Merlin's name is that?"
"That's just Blue, one of the death adder snakelings," Harry said. "He decided that he wants to spend a little time in our Floo fire. I can take him out if he disturbs you."
"It tickles, but leave him," Sirius chortled. "He feels like an alright sort of snake."
"Your father tastes sturdy," Blue informed Harry and continued to crawl through the flames.
"He likes your magic," Harry said, smiling a little. "How are you feeling? Mr. Walker is throwing a lot of stuff at the ICW; are you sure it isn't too much for you?"
Sirius snorted. "It definitely isn't. My job is to let the goblin healers straighten me out, to follow the news, and gloat about our Ministry's stupidity. For myself, I've added taking care of everything that has languished since my father's death." He grimaced. "Being a Lord of anything is being vastly overrated. The paperwork is boring as all hell, but at least the goblins are happy to have my gold back in circulation."
"Don't I know it," Harry mumbled. "I wanted to ask for a favour."
"Whatever you need, pup. Shoot!"
"Are you getting more house elves to help Ninja with your security?" Harry began.
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "As a matter of fact we've talked about it, but it's hard to find unbonded elves with Ninja's skill set. Why? Do you want one as well?"
"Not exactly. I want to propose a ... a teaching exchange. One of my elves told me that he wants more really smart elves, to better help with the running of the estate and future businesses and stuff. My elves could teach your security elves more about concepts of security, and yours could teach mine actual fighting. Most of them want to, after Dumbledore practically imprisioned them for over a decade."
"Sounds good," Sirius said thoughtfully. "Ninja certainly likes finding out how to flay trespassers, even if it means reading books." He leaned a little forward as if confiding a great secret and said, "He's very class-conscious, likes to mind his elf business and doesn't want to mingle much with humans."
"I don't know when Jules will find me those elves," Harry admitted, "but considering how fast they usually are with everything, it might be soon."
"I'll get Ninja on it," Sirius agreed. "He knows that I want to add more of his bloodthirsty little friends to my household, but it wasn't a huge priority as long as I'm under Gringotts' protection."
"Thank you," Harry said, quite seriously, and Sirius laughed. "So, what'll be next on Mr. Walker's agenda? Something that'll make Minister Fudge cry?"
"Do you really want me to spoil the surprise?" Sirius asked.
"Maybe not," Harry admitted. "Hermione was just wondering what the Herald will be able to print exclusively if all the juicy stuff is getting out now."
"Tell her not to worry, there's tons of that dragonshite to go around before everything is said and done." Sirius' grin was positively shark-like. "I feel like a kid in a candy store."
Blue slipped out of the Floo fire and slithered over Harry's knee and up his torso. "Your father is vicious. I approve."
"She should receive my post on the weekend before your Hogsmeade trip. Walker is of the opinion that the information could get out prematurely, so we compromised. Your girlfriend will have to be quick, but she can do it."
"Yeah, she'll manage," Harry said. "Will it be bad?"
"Mmh." Sirius smirked with satisfaction. "Let's just say that Finch will earn his keep." His no longer gaunt features softened a little. "Tell me when it gets too much and we'll shield you from the media frenzy as much as we can. The press in Britain is a horror, but the rest of the world actually cares about ICW issued injunctions before the fines have to be paid."
"What fines?" Harry asked.
"If we were anything less than honorable, we could squeeze gold for the purchase of a small country out of the less savory tabloids," Sirius replied idly. "Because some people just don't know when to stop."
"So it really wouldn't be bad if I said I wanted keep out of the newspapers." Harry marvelled about that for a moment. "Wow."
"Anything and everything you want is just fine," Sirius assured him. "So go wild, find your inner Slytherin, pup. I haven't forgotten your little confession about your sorting ... and I just bet that he wants to come out and play sometime."
Harry suddenly found his trainers far more interesting than his father - and it was still so very strange to think of Sirius like that, it had all happened so fast - and cleared his throat noisily. "Er, you don't think he's gotten too much playtime already?"
"What, because you got tricked into following a madman into an obstacle course that any half-informed first year could've solved? Or because you managed to face an ancient basilisk all by your lonesome?" Sirius made an exaggeratedly sad face and shook his head. "Nah, sorry, that wasn't your inner Slytherin, those were circumstances conspiring against you. You cheating your way into the Slytherin common room, now that's proper Slytherin behaviour! Anything to achieve your goal, and so well executed ... potioned muffins, what a hoot!"
"Well, Crabbe and Goyle were extra stupid that night, and it was all Hermione's idea, anyway," Harry admitted with a huff. "Pranking people is hard!"
"Only because you're untrained. Did I ever tell you about my map of Hogwarts? Remus, your dad, and I used it to plan our pranks, and to get away when our mischief was done ..."
oOo
On Monday, Jerry had to wake Harry with a push of house elf magic, because Harry had spent all night watching Sirius' map of Hogwarts, the Marauders' Map, which he had liberated from the Weasley twins' possession.
It isn't theft if you only get back what was yours to begin with, Sirius had written at night, after one inspired summoning charm had revealed the location of the map. Jules had then got it from its hiding place, easy as anything, and presented it with a pleased little bow. From what I hear, Arthur Weasley's twins are talented enough pranksters even without the map. They'll deal.
Sirius had still insisted that Harry send the map along via house elf courier as soon as he felt ready to part with it so he could put better protections on it, but otherwise he'd given Harry carte blanche for its use.
All morning, Harry was distracted, the map burning a hole into his book bag, but he got a rude awakening after Ancient Runes, when Malfoy swooped in to ruin his day.
"Potter, we need to talk," Malfoy said imperiously. Crabbe and Goyle flanked him awkwardly.
"What about?" Harry asked flatly.
"You know what about. Our Transfiguration project." Malfoy smirked at Padma, not noticing or caring that she was a Ravenclaw, and not part of Harry's group. "Your tattling was in vain, Patil, we still all have to present."
"Then present your part," Padma sniped. "Saying nothing should earn you a nice, fat T."
"That's not how this works," Malfoy suddenly hissed, getting into her space. "You give me something to present, or you'll regret it."
Padma stared haughtily back. "Dream on, Malfoy. Also, try menacing the right person next time, namely my Gryffindor sister. This makes you look like a complete moron." To add insult to injury, she pushed him away and walked off, Hermione by her side.
"You do know that Professor McGonagall will hear about this," Harry said, raising his eyebrows. "And that even if you somehow get your paws on our work, she'll still punish you for trying to cheat?"
"She won't know because none of you will open your fat mouth," Malfoy threatened.
"Yeah, no, that's not really working out for me," Ernie interjected, managing to sound confident in the face of Crabbe cracking his knuckles. "And if you hit me, you'll be in even deeper shit."
Malfoy's frustration reached critical mass and he raised a fist on Ernie. "Tell him to hand it over, Potter!"
Suddenly, the blond boy had half a dozen wands in his face, and a voice shouted for Professor Babbling.
"Nope, not happening," Harry told Malfoy calmly. "Have fun trying to explain why you were starting a fight."
"Yes, do explain, Mr. Malfoy!" the teacher snapped. "Minerva warned me that something like this might happen! Come, I'll take you to the headmaster. Twenty points from Slytherin for harassing other students. Let's see what else we can add after our talk!" Her stare swept the other students. "Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle, do I have to take you along?"
"No, ma'am," both boys hastily said, averting their eyes from Malfoy's flushed visage.
"Then run along to lunch, and Merlin help you if I hear even the slightest whisper about more fighting in the halls." She stomped off, dragging Malfoy by the scruff of his neck.
Since lunch had already started, the rest of the students quickly dispersed, Crabbe among the first to run off, now that his leader had gone.
Harry walked with Ernie and a few others, but he kept his ear pricked for conversation between Zabini and Goyle, because Goyle wasn't even in Ancient Runes and had obviously run to support Malfoy's stupid quest. However, they both remained silent and Harry decided to leave it be unless Zabini decided to talk in Arithmancy.
Lunch was loud and chaotic, as usual. Several students tried doing homework between their half empty plates and goblets, while others were discussing new articles for the next Hogwarts Herald. A few were even trying to work on their spells for Transfiguration, a lost cause if Harry ever saw one. Already, two Ravenclaws had caused a platter to grow sturdy dragon legs and a tail, and the thing was now rampaging all over their house table, upsetting plates and flinging cutlery to the floor.
At the Gryffindor table, only Ron was hectically trying to practice his spell. Runcorn and Lily Moon, who were saddled with him, watched him in scornful silence.
"I feel so sorry for them," Hermione said and offered Harry the grilled vegetables. "They tried working with Millicent Bulstrode over the weekend and had to go to Professor McGonagall because Millicent threw her books at them in a fit of rage. Ron wasn't much better; apparently he blew them off until today and then tried to mooch off them."
"Just like Malfoy," Harry scowled. "It hurts to say, but they really have a lot in common."
She leaned against him. "I know. It's appalling. At least Ron didn't try to physically bully them into giving up a share, but you can bet your Nimbus that I'll have an eye on that situation. I'm not above teaching Lily and Runcorn a couple of effective strikes."
"Have you found out whether they're definitely leaving after the term ends?" Harry asked.
"Oh! Yes, actually they are," Hermione confirmed. "They won't even take the train, their parents will come and portkey them right to Beauxbatons so they'll have a week to get settled in."
"You, Lavender, and Parvati will have the dorm to yourselves, then. Cool."
"Yes, we decided that we'll ask the house elves for a couple of desks to replace the beds. It'll be useful to have a corner to hide in when things get too loud in the common room. And we can leave stuff for the Herald there that shouldn't be lying around in our headquarters."
"That reminds me: you can expect mail in two weeks. I am to tell you sorry for only giving you a week to get your article ready. It's to ensure confidentiality."
Hermione lit up. "That's no bother. Thank you! Oh, I'm so curious!"
"Me too," Harry said quietly and smiled crookedly.
He wanted to tell her about the marauders' map and show her what it could do, but there were too many ears pricked as it was. Especially Ginny was paying attention, and while she didn't look exactly dissatisfyed with how much time Harry was spending with Hermione, he didn't want her to become even more curious.
After lunch, Professor Vector introduced the first basic spell schematic, which explained how the magic for simple charms and spells was balanced. From here on out, Harry would probably always associate such magic with triangles.
"In a way it even makes sense," he told Hermione as they walked on to Transfiguration. "The three points of stability-"
"Power, distribution, and flow," Hermione supplied, eyes shining with excitement.
"Yeah, those ... when I think about the wand movements for each, it's always a three-point action with our wands," Harry finished. "I never noticed!"
"I can't wait to learn more," Hermione gushed. "Every class is something new."
"Spare me, Granger," Malfoy snarled and stomped past her. "No one wants to be reminded of what a know-it-all swot you are!"
"Maybe you shouldn't listen to private conversations, then," Hermione retorted. "It's the easiest way to spare your delicate sensibilities."
"You should've learned to listen to your betters by now," Malfoy snarled, whirling around and rounding on her. His grey eyes glinted malevolently. "So what if Hector Dagworth-Granger is your great-grandfather? That doesn't elevate you above your pitiful mudblood status. That you were even allowed to come to Hogwarts is a travesty of the highest order. My father is working on getting your filthy sort out of here, and I hope he'll be successful soon."
Concerned, Harry watched Hermione's colour rise. With a flick of his hand, his wand slapped into his palm. Around his arm, Blue tightened his hold, conveying just how volatile he found the situation.
"The only reason he probably has to do that is to make you look good," Hermione answered coldly. "You're a lazy git, and your grades are atrocious for someone who supposedly enjoys all the comforts of money. Too bad this obviously doesn't include tutors, because you desperately need them if you want to pass your OWLs, let alone this year's exams."
Malfoy lost it then and drew his wand. "Why, you filthy mudblood! Reducto!"
Harry had no idea what the spell did, but he wasn't about to let Hermione get hit by it. As other students around them screamed, he put himself into the path of the light, shouting, "No!"
A flare of magic exploded around him, rolling out in a blast wave and shoving Malfoy away and into the wall. Something cracked ominously before the boy crumpled down in an unconscious heap.
"Oh my god, Harry!" Hermione whimpered. "Are you alright?"
Harry's hearing was off; everything was so quiet, as if someone had stuffed his ears with cotton wool. He thought he said, "I'm fine," but couldn't be sure.
"Malfoy cast a Reducto at Potter!" someone shouted. "Get the professors! Quick!"
"Sit down, both of you," Hannah Abbott said. She was deathly pale. "Let me see if you're hurt." Carefully, she began to pat down Harry's shoulders and arms. "No blood anywhere, that's good. How about you, Hermione?"
"I'm fine, not a scratch. Harry ... he just pushed me back."
Susan Bones next to Hannah had tears running down her face. "That was a cruel thing to do. A Reductor Curse could have maimed you, Hermione, and I'm sure he wanted that to happen. I'll ... I'll call my aunt, she has to know. And Malfoy needs Madam Pomfrey, although he doesn't deserve it." She sobbed but straightened up and ran off with Hannah and a Ravenclaw boy by her side.
"Hang in there," Zabini murmured. "Help is on the way."
As floaty as he felt, Harry couldn't form a reply. All he cared about was Hermione's safety. Since that had been accomplished, he allowed himself to sit down and rest against her. On his other side he could feel the presence of an invisible house elf.
Some undetermined time later, Professor Vector crouched before him, tipping his head up to check his eyes and pulse.
"He's a little exhausted, and suffering from shock. Miss Granger, would you assist him, please? We need to go to the hospital wing. If he can't walk, I'll float him."
Harry was well able to walk on his own, and the movement helped with the shocky feeling numbing his senses. When they arrived at Madam Pomfrey's infirmary, he was already feeling more alert and not so unmoored from reality.
"What nasty business has been going on now?" the nurse snapped, directing them to a bed by the window. "Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy, why am I not surprised? Care to tell me what happened, Miss Granger? Please put Mr. Malfoy down back there, Filius, thank you. The more space between them, the better."
Hermione told her and the assembled professors about her argument with Malfoy, and what curse the boy had cast.
"And of course Mr. Potter threw himself in the path of that curse," Madam Pomfrey sighed. "I'll be honest, I'm grateful that he wasn't hurt, but that was immensely stupid."
"He did it to protect me," Hermione said, gripping Harry's clammy hand tightly. "And Malfoy was too close for us to jump out of the way." She sniffed, the horror of the moment finally catching up to her. "I'm just glad no one was hurt."
The door to the infirmary banged open and Snape strode in with impressively billowing robes.
"Potter has done it now! He'll be on the train home this evening!" he said. His dark eyes glittered gleefully.
"Don't be absurd, Severus," Professor Vector snapped. "The Malfoy boy attacked Miss Granger and got his own back. We have nearly twenty witnesses who all say that it was self-defence."
"It's always self-defence with Gryffindors," Snape replied coolly. "No, this will have serious consequences - at last."
"Careful what you wish for," Hermione muttered, causing Harry to snort.
"Do you find it funny to put your classmate in the hospital wing, Potter?" Snape hissed. "Do you find it funny that you have possibly hurt the scion of an old and respected family beyond remedy?"
"If so, he brought it upon himself," Hermione snapped. "Sir."
Snape's black eyes snapped to her and he bared his crooked teeth in a terrible smile. "Is that so? Well then, we'll let the aurors decide."
"Yes, we will." Madam Pomfrey bodily pushed the man away. "Until then please vacate my infirmary. I have patients to tend to, and your fear-mongering isn't helping any of them."
Snape strode off, passing Dumbledore who was just strolling into the hospital wing. "Call me when the DMLE representatives are ready for a rational discussion, Albus."
"Of course, Severus. Monday, hm?" Dumbledore asked Madam Pomfrey and the teachers, twinkle in his eyes. "It's a bit early for exam jitters, but who am I to judge the studiousness of our next generation?"
"With all due respect, it wasn't studiousness that prompted Mr. Malfoy to attack Miss Granger with a Reducto," Professor Vector said in a clipped voice. "You already heard about the altercation between Mr. Malfoy and his Transfiguration group earlier; seems like he decided to vent his spleen on Miss Granger now and failed."
"Spectacularly," Flitwick chimed in.
Dumbledore glanced over at Malfoy. "Surely the response was a bit disproportionate? The boy is still out cold, and he seems to have a couple of broken bones."
"Being pushed into a wall will do that to people, and had Mr. Malfoy been successful, Miss Granger would suffer far worse right now," Madam Pomfrey sniffed. "I have called Healer Williams to take care of Mr. Potter. I assume that a law wizard will accompany him, seeing that the DMLE will be involved. Now, if you don't need me, I'll be over there treating Mr. Malfoy."
"Would you like to tell me what happened, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, trying to catch Harry's eye with his patented stare.
Hermione was having none of it, however, and said a little sharply, "Malfoy attacked me, Headmaster. Harry just happened to get in his way. So why don't you ask me what happened?"
"Good question, Albus," Professor Flitwick said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not every bit of excitement can be laid at Mr. Potter's feet."
"I merely wish to understand all sides of the confrontation," Dumbledore said smoothly.
"I'll give my report once, namely to the aurors," Hermione said stubbornly. "And my memory, too, because that's outstanding, sir. That'll show you clearly enough what happened."
"Now, now, Miss Granger, in the interest of-"
"Are you trying to influence a witness, Headmaster Dumbledore?" Harold Finch's voice called out. He walked through the door of the infirmary, Healer Williams by his side.
"Of course I'd never attempt such a thing," Dumbledore replied, turning a little and nodding in greeting. "May I have the pleasure of your names, gentlemen?"
Williams barely returned the nod, his attention on Harry. "Brady Williams, healer of record for Mr. Potter. Excuse me, my patient is waiting."
"Ehem, Headmaster Dumbledore," Finch said, drawing Dumbledore's attention to himself. "My name is Harold Finch. I'm Mr. Potter's sworn law wizard of record. I already sent you several pieces of correspondence. I also sent Mr. Potter two letters, both of which did not reach their intented recipient." He opened his satchel, retrieved a letter, and held it out.
Almost involuntarily, Dumbledore accepted it, causing the letter to flash with a royal purple light. Two duplicates with a big stamp on them appeared out of thin air. One flew over to Finch's satchel and sorted itself inside, while the other vanished in a puff of purple smoke.
"You have been served an ICW-issued writ in front of witnesses to cease the rerouting of any incoming legal post," Finch announced. "It's receipt has been noted in the proper files."
Dumbledore's placid face grew a bit ruddy with temper. "That was uncalled for, Mr. Finch. Whatever the ICW's grievance is with my decision, they could have told me when I'd gotten there for the next regular session."
"They really couldn't have," Finch replied, "as the matter detailed in the writ is not part of the regular session agenda. In fact, if you persist with this practice, every instance of withholding post from its legal recipient will be fined by a hundred galleons. The amount will double with every infraction per injured person. Gringotts has been notified and your personal account has been tethered to the letter and spirit of the writ."
Harry could barely contain his smirk as Dumbledore sputtered.
"Stop it or you'll strain something," Williams said under his breath, although he, too, was smirking. "Leave it to Finch. You have other problems, Mister, to name magical exhaustion as the main offender."
"He got in the way of a Reducto for me," Hermione told him. "He's allowed to be exhausted."
Harry felt guilty for having worried her so, but he enjoyed her tight grip on his arm and hand. Blue on his other arm wriggled around a little as Healer Williams' magic washed over them, but thankfully he stayed hidden and quiet.
"And you have no idea how you did it, am I right?" Williams sighed and put his wand away. "You're an incredibly lucky wizard, Harry. Seems like you had an experience of not-so-accidental magic. It saved more than just yourself, as you know." He tapped Blue through Harry's robe sleeve.
"I know, and I think he might have helped. I also had my wand," Harry murmured. "Does that still count as accidental magic?"
"Did you cast a spell?"
"No," Harry admitted, looking at his hands. "But I wanted to protect 'Mione, and I sort of ... heaved up the magic I could find. It was weird."
"You might have cast a wordless Protego," Brady mused. "The aurors will ask you to submit your wand for testing. Mr. Finch will oversee this procedure and protect your rights. But first ..." He took a couple of potion phials out of his bag and handed them over. "Nutrient potion for you both to combat the stress of the encounter, and afterwards a mild calming draught. You'll miss class today, but I'm sure that your ... Professor McGonagall, correct? She will allow you to make up for it."
"Yes, she will," Flitwick assured them. "And you can be assured that Minerva will see that Mr. Malfoy will face the full consequences of his actions."
Professor Vector scowled. "I certainly hope so. Such behaviour has no place in a school full of wand-carrying adolescents. If it were up to me, he'd be transferred to St. Mungo's for treatment and not be allowed to come back at all."
Harry looked up at her. "Could he really be expelled?"
"He could have killed us at that distance," Hermione said softly, gripping Harry even more tightly. Her breath was fast and flat, as if she were only now truly understanding the severity of Malfoy's attack. "He could have killed us."
"Then I hope he has to go," Harry said, glaring over to where Madam Pomfrey was finishing up with Malfoy's injuries. "And if Mr. Malfoy tries to buy his way back in, Mr. Finch will throw the book at them. I was told he's really good at that."
"You might think about offering to give pensieve testimony," Healer Williams said. "It'd be unusual for underage magicals, but the offence is grave enough to warrant it, and if the aurors in this country are even the least bit competent, they'll actually request it."
Dumbledore, who finally managed to extricate himself from Finch, walked over and loomed over Harry's slumped form. "Let's hope that this unpleasantness doesn't get any worse. Both you and Mr. Malfoy suffered a traumatic experience today; escalating it needlessly does neither of you any favours."
"I'm sorry, sir, but I'll let Madam Bones be the judge of that," Harry said without looking directly at the old wizard. "If Malfoy's ready to kill someone at thirteen, I want him in prison, or wherever minor magicals go for assault."
"You did him great physical harm," Dumbledore admonished with a sigh. "While I understand that you did so to protect Miss Granger, it cannot be overlooked. Mr. Malfoy's father will certainly demand compensation."
"I'd thank you to keep your opinions to yourself, Headmaster Dumbledore," Finch said, joining their little group. "Else I'll have to report you for attempting to influence a person involved in the incident. Last I checked, such things are still heavily frowned upon, even in Britain, and will be fined."
"Who is trying to influence whom?" Madam Bone's voice sounded. "Ah, Albus, I should have known."
"Amelia, it's a pleasure to see you, as always," Dumbledore said jovially.
"I unfortunately can't say the same," she replied dryly as she hurried to their side. "I've been here too often for one term already. It's making my department restless, and the betting pool is already out of control."
Professor Vector snorted with bitter laughter.
"Now, what's this about a potentially lethal attack in the hallways?" Madam Bone's sharp eyes flitted to Harry and Hermione and took their miserable forms in. "Who wants to do the honours?"
"Since the attack was meant for Miss Granger, I say we let her explain," Flitwick proposed, "but let's get introductions out of the way first."
A few minutes later, Hermione did Professor Flitwick proud by once more shortly and succinctly detailing the altercation and also repeating her argument with Malfoy verbatim, much to the dismay of everyone present.
"Your memory truly is astounding," Flitwick declared. "Although I'd wish for your sake that it weren't quite that good. That incident will likely stay with you for a long time, poor girl."
"When will that Malfoy boy learn to keep his hateful tongue to himself?" Professor Vector scowled. A scroll of parchment and a quill appeared in her hands and she made a note. "That'll cost Slytherin fifty points for every use of that foul word."
"I'd like to hold my judgement in reserve until Mr. Malfoy is awake and able to defend himself," Dumbledore murmured, face grave. "However, should the accusation prove true, Slytherin will lose one hundred points for assaulting an unarmed student."
"Only a hundred?" Harry asked incredulously. "Are you serious? Sir?"
"Miss Granger did provoke Mr. Malfoy and deliberately poked at his sore spots," Dumbledore countered mildly. "Knowing how temperamential magicals at this age can be, I feel that this deserves some consideration."
"Even if he hadn't started the whole thing, that doesn't give him the right to attempt to kill her, Albus," Madam Bones' voice was hard and Harry was certain that only her experience kept her from sounding as incredulous as Harry felt. "You know that I'll request pensieve evidence from everyone who was in that hallway, don't you? Forgive my language, but that little blighter won't get away with this if I can help it."
"Some parents might not give you permission," Dumbledore replied.
"But some certainly will," Madam Bones countered, flinty-eyed. "And you won't keep me from doing my job, Albus. Not this time. If what Miss Granger said is true, you'll have a bloody scandal on your hands as soon as it becomes known. You'll be lucky to keep all of your students; if I could afford it, I'd send Susan somewhere else tomorrow."
The air was thick with conflicting emotions and agitated magic after that declaration.
"I assure you that we have things well under control," Dumbledore said, for the first time sounding a little impatient. "Mr. Malfoy is a hot-headed young man, and he was certainly brought up to believe himself above most others, as old families tend to do, and he made a rather grave mistake. However, I'd feel remiss in doing my duty if I didn't offer the boy a chance to redeem himself, and in a fashion that's of use not only to himself, but to the population at large."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked angrily. "What can he do to make it up to Hermione?"
"He could pay a wergild, for one," Finch answered. "The amount of which could, theoretically, be determined by the judge of a trial."
"However, most families involved in such distasteful dealings prefer to settle such matters out of court," Healer Williams continued. "Less public scrutiny that way, and the amount settled on is often significantly higher."
"So Malfoy's family would be paying hush money." Harry glared at the bed with the boy on it, only to then direct his gaze to Hermione. "If I were you, I'd tell them where to stick it."
"Not that I don't appreciate the sentiment, but it's a bit early to be thinking about that," Madam Bones said. She knelt in front of the two teens. "First come the witness reports, so I can build a case. When the investigation has been concluded, the case will then go to the Ministry Prosecutor, our version of the Crown prosecutor in the muggle world."
"It's mundane," Hermione said quietly, but firmly. "The word 'muggle' makes mundanes sound like inept children, when they're anything but. Like my parents. They're both doctors."
Madam Bones paused but took the comment in her stride. "Quite right, I apologize. The Ministry Prosecutor's sole function is to present the case to a judge, of which we have twelve in Britain, and arrange for the trial."
"So there will be a trial," Harry said with satisfaction. "Good."
"At this point, there might be one," Finch cautioned. "Since both Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy are yet minors, the defendants will be given a chance to offer wergild to the wronged party to minimize the impact a conviction would have on the perpetrator's later life."
"Well, Malfoy should feel the impact of what he did," Harry replied stubbornly. "Who's to say he won't try again at the next opportunity if his parents just bail him out?"
"A very good question," Finch said, easily taking the floor as the recognized authority on this topic. His smile was anything but pleasant. "Attempted murder costs upward of 500,000 galleons. Believe me when I say that Mr. Malfoy's family would keep a very sharp eye on him after paying that kind of gold in damages. In Miss Granger's case it even could be argued that her scholarly success so far more than hints at a bright and prosperous future. Losing so much potential for the magical world would probably raise the amount of wergild to millions of galleons and bleed the Malfoy coffers dry."
"Say my parents and I agreed to this," Hermione murmured. Everyone was straining to hear her, and she raised her voice a little. "What then? Would Malfoy be allowed back here?"
"That's all part of the negotiations," Madam Bones said, not unkindly. "Take my advice and approach Gringotts to find a good law wizard. It'd be unwise to attempt such a negotiation without one."
Mr. Finch cleared his throat and announced, "As my client, Mr. Potter, was directly affected by Mr. Malfoy's attack, I'd be willing to extend my services to you and your family, Miss Granger. Making this into a class action lawsuit will save all of us precious time and ressources."
"I daresay it will!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed, sounding altogether too cheerful. Dumbledore, on the other hand, didn't look particularly happy about the fact that Harry had a legal representative all of a sudden. "Sometimes I regret having taken up actual duelling instead of the law study as a young man. Battles in a court room get the blood flowing like few other things can."
The headmaster sighed. "To spare the school and the involved children the mortification, I do hope that things can be settled quickly and quietly."
"That depends on how accommodating the Malfoys are going to be," Finch replied evenly. "From what I've heard so far, the case seems to be rather open and shut."
"It takes both parties to achieve a compromise," Dumbledore said. His disapproving look slid right off Mr. Finch's cool demeanor. Finding no purchase there, he turned to Harry - and got whacked by an invisible force when he stared too intensely. "What was that?" he demanded, holding his bloody nose.
"No idea," Harry lied, tucking Hermione against his side and looking away to the side.
Next to Dumbledore, Mr. Finch was heroically holding on to his placid face, but Healer Williams couldn't hide his smirk.
The rest of the witches and wizards exclaimed in shock, and then Madam Pomfrey made Dumbledore suffer the indignity of having several spells cast on him to set his broken nose and stop the bleeding.
"Whatever could that have been?" Professor Vector asked, looking around frantically. "Has Peeves broken through the wards?"
"Impossible," Madam Pomfrey snapped as she shoved a potion at Dumbledore. "You've just checked them."
Dumbledore gurgled a little and pointed an accusing finger at Harry.
"Oh, don't be absurd, Albus," Madam Pomfrey chided. "The lad won't be doing a lot of magic for a week at least. Besides, what reason could he possibly have to attack you?"
"Aside from not rendering the appropriate support in any manner of situations?" Mr. Finch asked, sounding bored. "Or attempting an illegal legilimency probe on him?"
Madam Bones snorted. "You're not exactly helping Mr. Potter's case here, Mr. Finch."
"And neither am I hurting it," he responded. "It's merely an observeration. As you well know, performing legilimency on anyone without their consent is a felony."
Madam Bones' unamused stare went back to Dumbledore, who studiously looked at the infirmary's vaulted ceiling as Madam Pomfrey worked on him. "So it is."
"Harry didn't cast any magic, and neither did Hermione," Williams said, drawing her attention to himself. "As Madam Pomfrey already stated, Harry is to be excempt from practical work for a week at least, after which I'll return to check his and Miss Granger's health."
"Send me the reports," Madam Bones said, "and you, Mr. Finch, are welcome to accompany me to the Ministry for the necessary paperwork."
"Delighted," Finch said, sounding like he meant it. "If I just may remind Headmaster Dumbledore that he is, under nor circumstance, permitted to meet Mr. Potter alone, be it by design or accident. Every failure to adhere to the writ will draw two hundred galleons out of his personal Gringotts vault."
Madam Bones' eyebrows rose almost to her hairline. "Really."
"The situation with Lord Black is unfortunate," Finch said, mellow as you please, "but that does not mean he's not caring for his child. Since Mr. Potter has confessed to feeling uncomfortable in the headmaster's presence, Lord Black has taken measures to ensure his mental and physical wellbeing."
"I see." Once more her hard stare went to Dumbledore, who flushed with temper. "Shall we, Mr. Finch?"
"Go, Harold, I'll remain with Harry until he's allowed to leave here," Williams said.
"I'll stay, as well." Flitwick cast a quick tempus. "The last class for today is half over already, in any case."
"I'll look in on your sixth years," Professor Vector offered. "Lord, this day has been wretched. I'll be glad when it's over."
Pulling Hermione another tad closer to himself, Harry couldn't agree more.
End of Part 16