"I was dying. But I still asked Fawkes to help you." He rolled up his sleeve as he was speaking and now turned his arm so she could see the puckered scar from the basilisk fang that marked it. Her eyes were drawn unintentionally to the scar. All the kids in the room craned their necks trying to see what he was showing her also. They too wanted proof of his version of events. On seeing the scar still so prominent on the pale flesh of Harry's inner arm, Fawkes hopped down to the tabletop before giving a mournful trill and gently touching it with his beak as if apologizing for not being able to fully heal the wound.
"The toy you were playing with all year did this to me while I was trying to save you. The toy that ended Colin's life. That would've ended mine if not for Fawkes." Fawkes trilled and head butted Harry again. "What was my reward for that? You went around the school with these two," he gestured to Ron and Hermione. "Telling everyone I was grandstanding again. That I wasn't really lying in the infirmary recovering from another near death experience. That the snake was just a little harmless gardener snake that couldn't have hurt anybody."
"But gardener snakes don't leave scars like this behind, do they? Gardener snakes don't pose a threat to human lives. Insects yes. Humans no. You went around the school with your head held high blaming me for your own bad act in opening the Chamber and killing Hagrids roosters. You went around tearing my character and reputation to shreds to cover up your own guilt lest someone remember it was a redheaded girl Colin's notebook had fingered for the crime."
"The bottomline here, Ginerva Molly Weasely is that while Fawkes here did heal you enough for you to reach the infirmary, he only did so because he was aiding me and I was in no condition to get you out of the chamber without his aid. He knew that even if you were too stupid. Because you didn't call for his aide. I did."
"Furthermore, without me stabbing that damn diary with the poisoned fang from the monster you'd been playing with all year long, you would've died. Fawkes didn't stop the diary Tom from draining your life force. I did. And no I didn't have to do that to kill the snake. The snake was already dead by the time I did that. But you live because of that one simple little act I performed as I was dying. And yes, Ms. Weasely. I was dying because the fang I used to stab that diary I had to first pull out of my own forearm." He tapped the puckered scar for emphasis. "Where it had lodged as I slammed Gryffindor's sword into the basilisk's brain via it's mouth as it tried to have me as a Potter snack. Therefore, your life is most definitely mine to do with as I please. As is the case for all life debts."
"As for your mother providing for me and your family taking me in, that has only been the case once in fourteen years and even then it was only a grand total of two weeks time in the summer between my first and second year. I've never been back and have never asked to go there again. Hell, I didn't even ask that time. I was invited there by your brother. If your parents couldn't afford it they should've said so. As any other adult would have. Or told him no when he asked for me to come stay."
"Considering your Mother has been very freely helping herself to funds from my school vault longer than I've even known her, I consider your family well paid for that time. I may not know for certain, at this time, as to whether or not she is aware she's actually stealing from me just as the three of you are, or have been, but I do know she has been spending my money for longer than I've known she existed. But even if she wasn't, I fail to see how staying under the Weasely roof for fourteen days out of fifteen years equals having to pay your way for the rest of your life. If that's the price of staying at your home, let me tell you the service sucks and it definitely wasn't worth the price." Sniggers again provided an undercurrent of sound in the room as the students caught the humor. Even Severus snorted in amusement though the sound was drown out by the sniggering students.
"Nor has your mother ever bought me clothing except for that dress robe she chose for me in my fourth year that was paid for with my own funds. A robe that was chosen more because it complemented the robe you wanted to wear than because I might like it or look good in it. I wear the clothes given to me by my Aunt and Uncle or robes I picked up from Madam Malkin's myself the summer I turned eleven. Even Malfoy can attest to that since he was in the robe shop when I came in to be fitted that year. We even had a conversation of sorts while we were getting measured for our robes. I'm sure, if he was paying attention at the time and looks closely now, he can attest to that fact as he is very fashion conscious. Guy spends more time primping in front of the mirror than my Aunt does when Uncle plans to take her out for the evening." Draco flushed again as the girls of his house smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. How Potter knew of Draco's habit of primping they didn't know but all of them knew it was true.
"Can you say the same? Can you honestly stand there and tell me you are wearing the same clothes today that you have been wearing for the last four years? I doubt it as vain as you are. But I see no good reason to buy new clothing when what I have is still serviceable and the new will be exactly like the old. That is a waste of good coin that could be used otherwise."
At those words everyone in the room was looking over the robes Harry was wearing, seeing the wear and tear that could only be the result of having served as his standard wardrobe long past their intended shelf life. Yet, it was also clear to anyone who knew what to look for the robe was well cared for. And everyone knew he hadn't donned said clothing just for this conversation. Those really were his standard daily uniform robes. While the witnesses were reassessing Harry's wardrobe, Harry was calling upon his magic to render payment to Ginerva Weasely just as he had Hermione.
Very quietly Harry mumbled, "Mother Gaia, hear my plea. I call for Judgement upon this user of your gift." Once again he raised his hand. Everyone felt the pressure rise in the room as magic itself responded to his call. Fawkes was singing adding his own voice to the call as the room filled with intangible energy, dancing along the skin and setting nerve endings tingling. He too wanted judgement on this girl who had so badmouthed the one he'd aided in his quest to save her life. Only Snape, Madam Pince and surprisingly enough Crabbe managed to catch the words he mumbled. Snape because he was almost directly behind him in the stacks. Madam Pince because she knew what magic he was using to punish his tormentors and Crabbe simply because he was use to translating Goyle's mutterings. Goyle never did talk very clearly. Or loud. He'd never really learned how.
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