Dealing with Danger
Chapter 39: The Heart of Hogwarts (Year 4)
By Anne B. Walsh
Chapter 39: The Heart of Hogwarts
Albus Dumbledore, halfway to the gates of Hogwarts, felt something press against his legs. He looked down and met the brown-blue eyes of a tan wolf, staring earnestly up at him. Moving to the side of the river of students – distantly he heard Minerva ordering them all back to the stands – he knelt and entered the minds opened to him.
The office of the Defense teacher – potion bottles and a mutilated sheet of parchment on the desk – an open trunk, with a ladder leading down into it – and at the bottom of the ladder –
He stood up. “I’m on my way,” he said aloud, and started for the castle.
This does make sense of a number of confusing things...
xXxXx
By the time the Privacy Spell around Letha and Ron dissipated, Meghan had cleaned and healed Harry’s cut with her wand, and congratulations had been offered all around on Harry’s quick victory. He was expecting the same from Ron, so he was naturally a little surprised when the first words out of his friend’s mouth were, “You bastard, your broom almost killed me!”
“What?” said Harry, echoed by almost everyone else there.
“You forgot to open the window,” Ron said, punctuating his sentences with sweeping gestures. “So I went to do it for you. I was outside on the windowsill, I’d just opened the window, and your bloody broom up and shoots straight at me! I missed getting speared by this much – and then I lost my balance and fell!”
“And how did you survive this fall?” said Professor McGonagall, leveling a glare at him, equal parts accusation and wary disbelief. “For that matter, Weasley, what were you doing on the windowsill?”
“This is another of our special projects, Minerva,” said Letha before Ron could respond.
“The ones you don’t want to know about,” Padfoot added, letting his eyes rest on Hermione a moment.
“Really?” Professor McGonagall gave Ron another look. “I wouldn’t have thought... well, congratulations, Mr. Weasley. I suppose it’s too much to ask that this level of achievement be demonstrated in your homework.”
Ron closed his mouth. “Yes, Professor. I mean, no, Professor. I mean, I will.”
“I see. Has anyone seen Albus?”
“He’s on his way to the castle,” said Danger, who had come up in time to hear this. “I can explain what’s just happened, or at least give you the gist of it so you can tell the students what you think they need to hear...”
xXxXx
“So Moody was never really Moody,” said Seamus over dinner. “He was some other bloke all the time.”
“They think he was probably a Death Eater,” said Harry, serving himself some more potatoes. “Because of... things he did.” His eyes met Draco’s for one second. “Like entering me in the Tournament.” The essay had been produced as proof positive that Harry hadn’t entered himself, and people were suddenly being nicer to him than they had been for weeks.
“And Moody got a look at one of them,” Draco added. “Not the one who impersonated him, but another man who came along, and he was a Death Eater for sure.”
Harry was grateful his brother had left the name off, though Moody had been able to provide one. This was a good day, and he didn’t want to ruin it by thinking about Wormtail.
“And Moody said he never got a good look at him?” Dean asked. “I mean, the bloke who was pretending to be him?”
Ron shook his head. “Never did,” he said. “I mean, he saw him loads of times, but he was always under the Imperius.”
Hermione shivered. “Just think of it,” she said. “We had a Death Eater as a teacher, and a man under the Imperius Curse right here in Hogwarts, and we never knew about it. We might never have known about it, if... somebody hadn’t gone in Moody’s office.”
“Yeah, who did that?” asked Dean. “Whoever it is, we owe them.”
Draco shrugged. “If they’re not telling, there’s probably a reason,” he said. “Maybe it was a student and they got off detention for it because they found the stuff out, so they don’t want their name known.”
“Or maybe that’s part of the deal,” suggested Neville. “They can’t be famous for it, but they won’t get in trouble either.”
“That’s not fair,” complained Seamus. “We ought to be allowed to know who it was.”
Harry ate another bite of potatoes and very carefully said nothing at all.
xXxXx
Remus knelt and let his hand trail down the wood of the office door, finding only smooth grain under his fingers. No trace was left of his furious assault of last Christmas, when, transformed, he had let his anger get the better of him and been taken over by the wolf. By all indications, he might never have lived in this place.
Dumbledore was going through the drawers of the desk. He had brought Moody up from the trunk’s dungeon himself, and Snape, rather less sour-looking than usual, had taken the Auror to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey said he was undernourished and weak from being under the Imperius for three months, but aside from that, the only thing wrong with him was a bad haircut.
Dumbledore sat down heavily in the desk chair. Remus turned to face him, standing up. “Anything?” he asked.
Dumbledore shook his head. “Nothing. Nothing which might tell us who he is, or why undertake such a masquerade...” He stared at his hand for a moment, then closed it into a fist. “I fear I am losing my way, Remus,” he said very quietly indeed. “How else could it be that I did not see the difference between a man I have known for forty years and an impostor?”
“Because he put his first priority on fooling you, maybe,” Remus suggested. “Did he seem to be avoiding you his first few weeks here? Saying he needed to rest a lot, or needed to get ready for class, or other excuses like that?”
Dumbledore looked up. “Yes,” he said, nodding slowly. “Yes, he did. You think that instead of doing that...”
“He was interrogating Moody, working out every little nuance of everything you and he had ever done together. And he put so much time into that, that he didn’t have enough time to learn about Moody’s interactions with other people. Or maybe he just hadn’t thought of it yet, when we met him on Hogsmeade on Saturday.”
Dumbledore smiled. “And so, although I myself was fooled, my reputation, at second hand, still won the day. I suspect you of trying to cheer me up, Remus.”
“Is it working?”
The smile grew, and some of the famous twinkle returned to the light blue eyes. “It is. I could play the fool more often, if results like this come of it.”
“I envy you that attitude,” said Remus, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of the desk. “I’m fairly sure I’m being played for a fool in this custody case. Mr. Terence Shybrook, honorable counsel for the prosecution, and Officer Amalda Custer of WFS, are throwing every possible legal hassle in our way, Dolores Jane Umbridge, supposedly impartial observer, is helping them, and the warlocks aren’t doing much about it either.”
“Let me see, which warlocks are hearing your case again? Ursula Longwood, Bartholomew Sly, and Roberta Mables, I believe?”
“That’s them. And they’re delaying and recessing on every pretense, and occasionally none at all. Do you have any idea how satisfying it would be to go in there and just roar at them all until they go deaf?”
Dumbledore chuckled. “You have my sympathies. I have been in legal situations before this.”
“They’re trying to delay Hermione’s testimony. I’m sure of it. Oh yes, and speaking of Hermione...” Remus outlined the meeting with Greyback. “Not that I think he could get in, but forewarned and so forth.”
“I can, if you like, have him watched,” Dumbledore offered. “So that you know his approximate location at all times.”
“That would be a big help. Thank you.” Remus looked out the window at the darkening sky. “I know I shouldn’t have humiliated him like that, but I wasn’t about to let him get away with making threats...”
“Whom do you suspect of delaying Hermione’s testimony in the case?”
Remus shook his head. “Whom don’t I suspect? Sly is openly disgusted with our case, Mables seems unsure, Longwood is very cautiously friendly toward us, but still isn’t doing anything to keep all these delays from piling up... Shybrook and Custer, of course, are just out-and-out against us, and the observer...” Now he smiled, and let it go just the least bit wicked. “Scribner is going to try to get her on the stand and under oath tomorrow.”
“And let her hang herself with her own rope.”
“Precisely.”
xXxXx
“So what does the egg do?” Ginny asked, stroking it as it lay in Harry’s lap.
Harry shrugged, waving off a plate of treats that George was passing around. “Dunno. Bagman said there was a clue to the next task inside it, but I haven’t looked yet.”
“Go on, then, what’re you waiting for?” Fred asked, taking a jam tart from the plate.
“All right.” Harry set his nails into the groove and pulled.
Everyone yelled as a horrid screeching sound filled the room. Harry got his reflexes under control just in time not to transform in the middle of the common room, instead merely knocking the egg off his lap. Hermione was backing up as swiftly as she could for the people around her, an expression of pain on her face. Harry kicked the egg towards Draco, who clapped it swiftly shut. Blessed silence fell.
“What was that?” said Lee Jordan, rubbing his ears.
“A banshee, maybe,” said Seamus. “D’you reckon they’d make you fight one of those?”
“Or someone being tortured,” said Neville, looking rather pale. “But they wouldn’t do that to you, it’s illegal.”
“People aren’t supposed to fight dragons either,” said George, picking up the plate and repairing it, then Summoning back the treats and dusting them off with his wand. “Sounded like Percy singing in the shower to me...”
Almost everyone laughed at this. “That sounds like something I could handle,” Harry said, accepting the egg back from Draco. “Though not something I’d enjoy.”
“Who would?” said Ron, then frowned at George and the snacks. “These aren’t hexed, are they?”
“Nothing but the custard creams,” said Fred.
Neville stared down at his hand, then glared at the twins. “Tell me after I’ve eaten one, why don’t you.”
“Oh, did you eat one?” said George, sounding very entertained.
“Yes. What do they do?”
“Wait and see,” said Fred airily.
“What if I don’t want to wait and see?” Neville asked.
“You’ll still have to,” said George. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t take lo – oof!” Neville had neatly tripped him up, and was now sitting on him. Fred started to the rescue, but Harry and Ron jumped him, and Lee Jordan was taken down by Draco, Hermione, and Ginny, as Meghan and Luna quickly joined Neville on top of George.
“Now,” said Neville, still in a reasonable tone. “What do they dooooooo–” His word swelled into a chirp, which was not surprising considering he’d just turned into a Neville-sized canary.
“Thaffs whaff,” said George into the carpet. Meghan let him up amid gales of laughter from the rest of the House. “Don’t worry,” he added cheerily, “it’s not permanent.”
The canary eyed him beadily but stayed where it was.
“Have you shown this to anyone else?” Harry asked, getting off Fred’s back.
“No, you’re our test audience,” said Fred, accepting Harry’s hand up. “Why?”
“Can you hide these inside other foods?” Harry continued, ignoring the question.
“Sure,” said George. “It doesn’t take much to invoke the charm, and you could probably disguise the taste. Why?”
Harry sighed. “It’s just a shame there’s no way to make sure he gets one,” he said as if to himself.
“Who?” Fred asked.
“Oh, no one important,” said Harry. “Just thinking.” Absently, he rattled his pockets.
The twins and Lee exchanged looks, then descended upon Harry and carried him off to the dormitories, from whence they emerged about five minutes later, all looking like cats that had caught Neville (who had molted by now). None of them would answer questions.
“All will be revealed tomorrow at breakfast,” was all they would say.
“And I’m getting an awful headache, so I’m going to bed,” Harry said finally, rubbing his forehead. “Good night, everyone, I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
“Fine friend you are,” Ron grumbled as they climbed the stairs. “I nearly break my neck for you, and you won’t even tell me what’s going on tomorrow.”
“Never said I wouldn’t tell you,” muttered Harry out the corner of his mouth. “I’m just waiting until we’re somewhere safe. Captain?”
“Already on it,” Neville said.
After artistically mussing their bedcovers and pulling their curtains, the boys went back downstairs, laden with pajamas and toothbrushes, and followed the girls down the stone slide, walking through the crowded common room without anyone seeing them. In the morning, the house-elves would pull back the hangings, so that their dormmates would assume they’d already got up and gone down to the common room or to breakfast. It had worked for three years now, even back in the time when they’d had to sneak down after everyone else went to bed.
Aboard the HMS Hogwarts Den, Harry finally revealed his secret, and the Pride laughed themselves nearly sick. Even Crookshanks, who had come down with Hermione, seemed to be smiling at the thought of the next morning.
“But there’s something else,” Harry said when everyone had caught their breath. “Neville, I’m sorry, I think I messed up – I was cheering for you when you did that thing with the grass, and he must have heard me, the fake Moody, I mean–”
Neville shrugged. “So he knows I can do that. So what?”
“But he shouted something. And he was looking back towards you. I think he meant it for you.” Harry looked down at the carpet, then back up at his friend. “He said, ‘I should have killed you when I had the chance.’”
Meghan squeaked. Luna’s eyes lost their dreamy look. Draco swore under his breath, as did Ron. Hermione and Ginny were wide-eyed. Neville just looked confused. “When he had the chance?” he repeated. “He had lots of chances this year – he took me up to his office, we had tea together – but why would anyone want to kill me?”
“Don’t know.” Harry shook his head. “I just don’t know.”
xXxXx
Ron was making his usual preparations for bed on a den-night. He’d collected sheet, blanket, and pillow from the communal stores off the bathroom, and was now looking for a nice big spot where he could comfortably sprawl. There was loads more choice since they’d reverted the main room to its usual state – the pirate ship was fun, but it made things feel a bit cramped. He spotted a place between Hermione and Luna and made for it –
When suddenly a spitting orange furball appeared there instead.
Ron yelped and jumped back, dropping his things. Crookshanks hissed and lashed his tail.
“Crookshanks!” Hermione scolded. “Bad cat!”
Crookshanks ignored her, instead stalking forward, glaring at Ron. “Er, I think I’ll sleep over here,” Ron said, hastily gathering his things and retreating to a space beside Harry. Crookshanks sat down and purred, then returned to Hermione’s side and nestled against her.
“What was that about?” said Draco, looking from cat to boy.
“Search me.” Ron did a belly-flop on the cushioned surface. “That cat’s a little weird.”
“I heard that.”
“I didn’t mean you, Hermione.”
“I know. But you’re not allowed to be mean to Crookshanks either.”
“Why not? He’s mean to me.”
“He’s just a cat, Ron. He doesn’t know any better.”
“But why is he nice to everyone else?”
“Well, he’s lived in the same house with us,” said Harry, rolling over. “And he likes girls better than boys, so Ginny and Luna are all right. Neville, do you want to...”
“No.”
“All right, don’t, then. I was just asking.”
“I’ve been a bird already tonight. I’m not going near that cat.”
“You’re not a bird now,” said Luna.
“The cat doesn’t know that.”
“He does if he can see you.”
“Yes, but I’m not taking any chances.”
“Go to sleep,” said Hermione. “Lights out, please.”
The illumination in the room vanished, except for a dim glow which the Pride had discovered came from the walls. There didn’t seem to be any way to turn it off, and it wasn’t bright enough to interfere with sleeping, so they used it for a night-light, to make sure no one tripped over anyone else on the way to the bathroom.
It was a nice place, the Hogwarts Den, Ron thought sleepily. And life was pretty good overall. Harry’d got through the first task with barely a scratch, and the Death Eater who’d entered him had been discovered – they were going to have a real Auror for a teacher within a few days – and Christmas was coming...
Christmas. Ron let out a big sigh. I should think about what to get people for presents...
Sleep overtook him as he was considering the alternative merits of Fred and George’s prank candies (if they could be induced to sell him any) and regular old chocolate from Honeydukes.
xXxXx
Severus Snape yawned and took another sip of his drink, scowling at the Great Hall in general. He hadn’t slept well the night before on account of his arm, and would have appreciated not being bearded in the hall by Igor Karkaroff in a panic before he’d even had his coffee yet. Still, at least there had been no students around.
And whoever was impersonating Moody, he was found out before he had the audacity to help himself to my supplies. Severus had no doubt that was what would have happened. Ordering boomslang skin would be a dead giveaway that Polyjuice Potion or something else highly difficult and delicate was being brewed by the orderer.
I could wish that Potter had succeeded a bit less in his task, or that I had not had to use two different pain-killers this morning, but other than that, this would seem to be a fairly good day. He would have to be careful about what he touched or imbibed today, though. One of the pain-killers had an ingredient in it that tended to make other potions’ effects last longer. That was all to the good where pain relief was concerned, but some potions had rather unfortunate effects...
“Pastry, Severus?” said Professor Flitwick, levitating the plate towards him. “They’re quite good.”
“Thank you,” said Severus, taking the plate. He regarded the four pastries remaining with a careful eye, then chose the second from the left. He couldn’t have said why he took it, only that it seemed slightly more appetizing than the rest.
If he had been more awake at the moment, he might have noticed that the icing on this pastry was ever so slightly green-tinted.
And if he had been more awake at the moment, he would certainly have noticed the sudden silence at a portion of the Gryffindor table, the youngest red-headed male stuffing an unopened letter into his pocket in anticipation.
As it was, he handed the pastries down the table and took a bite of the one he had selected, washing it down with coffee. For once, Filius was right. These are quite good.
He had time for two more bites before it hit.
xXxXx
“Oh, you didn’t,” Hermione said around her hand. “You didn’t really...”
“Why does she ask questions she already knows the answers to?” Ron asked Draco.
“Habit, I suppose,” said Draco, sneaking another look over his shoulder. “I never knew feathers could look greasy.”
“He needs to preen,” said Luna rather loudly, escalating the laughter in the Hall even farther. Even the teachers were sniggering as the extremely large canary fled through a side door, chirping angrily in a very deep voice.
Professor Dumbledore rose, his eyes quite merry. “There will be no Potions classes today,” he announced, and sat down again.
“Nicely done, gentlemen,” said Harry to the twins and Lee under cover of the applause. “The second half of payment will be forthcoming as promised.”
“Gosh, I wish I could buy my pranks done,” said Ginny.
Harry tweaked one of her braids. “It keeps them happy, it keeps them from pranking us, and it ensures that they take the blame. Where’s the problem?”
“Did I say there was a problem?”
“You were acting like there was a problem.”
“Well, there isn’t any problem.”
“I’m glad there isn’t any problem.”
Ginny grinned. “How many times can we say the word ‘problem’?”
“Problem problem problem ploblem...” Harry laughed. “Ploblem?”
“Plobrem,” said Ginny, stretching her eyes to make herself look Oriental.
Harry frowned. “That’s not funny.”
“It’s not?”
“No, it’s mean.”
Ginny looked hurt. “I didn’t mean it to be.”
“I know, but it still is.” Harry wasn’t quite sure why he was arguing this point – it had certainly destroyed the fun they’d been having – but he felt it had to be said. “You shouldn’t do things like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because... you just shouldn’t.”
“What a marvel of reasoning you are. Because you just shouldn’t.” Harry stared. Ginny had imitated his voice almost perfectly. “I think I just shouldn’t sit here anymore. Excuse me.”
And before Harry could say anything more, Ginny had ducked under the table and was beside Luna, asking her about an assignment for Charms.
He finished his breakfast pensively, rubbing his forehead and trying to come up with better reasons than “because you just shouldn’t.”
xXxXx
“State your name,” said Charles Scribner to the small woman in the witness chair.
“Dolores Jane Umbridge.”
“Occupation?”
“Senior Undersecretary to the Minister.”
“That would be the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hold this position in his previous administration as well?”
“I did.”
“And in the Vilias administration?”
“No.”
“No? Were you dismissed?”
“I left,” said Umbridge with some dignity, straightening herself in the chair.
“And what did you do during the Vilias administration, Madam Umbridge?”
“I held administrative assistant jobs at the Ministry, in the outer office of the Minister, the Ludicrous Patents Office, the Spirit Division of RCMC, the Floo Network Authority...”
Remus frowned as Umbridge continued listing jobs. Floo Network? I wonder when she worked there?
Why?
Oh, just curious.
“Why so many jobs, Madam Umbridge?” Scribner was asking now.
“I like variety in my work, Mr. Scribner. I would spend a few months, perhaps up to a year, in one job, then move on.”
“Of your own volition?”
The large eyes opened even wider. “Of course of my own volition – what are you insinuating, Mr. Scribner?”
“Counsel will refrain from insinuation,” grunted Warlock Sly.
Danger groaned mentally. Oh, come on. We pay him good money to insinuate.
“Yes, Your Honor,” said Scribner. “Now, Madam Umbridge, may I ask – why exactly are you here?”
“Well, I’ve come to witness this hearing, as an interested observer. History in the making, you see.”
We hope, Remus said.
“A werewolf suing for parental rights – it’s never been done before.” Umbridge tittered. “The Minister is very interested in this case, very interested indeed.”
But just which way does that interest go?
Scribner paced around the floor. “And are you interested in this case, Madam Umbridge?”
“I suppose so.” Umbridge fussed with her cardigan. “I’ve always been so very fond of children, you see.”
Yes, I understand they’re delicious with chips.
Danger choked, causing Umbridge to stare at her for a long moment before returning her regard to Scribner. “I just hate to see a child unhappy,” the dumpy woman finished.
Scribner nodded slowly. “You hate to see a child unhappy,” he repeated. “Madam Umbridge, when you’re not observing this case, what exactly are you doing for the Minister at the moment?”
Umbridge frowned. “At the moment... oh, let me see... well, I know it’s a law, but which one? I’ve worked on so many.”
“Is this the law?” Scribner Summoned a large scroll from his table and handed it to Umbridge.
“Why, yes, this is it. How clever of you to have a copy ready.” Her smile was poisonous.
Ha. She didn’t count on that.
Think we’ve got her now?
I certainly hope so. Remus pressed Danger’s hand. Getting rid of her will be half the battle won.
What’s the other half?
You’ll see.
“Your Honors, I’d like to submit this as evidence,” said Scribner, reclaiming the scroll from Umbridge.
“Very well,” said Warlock Mables, stretching out a hand. “Let’s see it.”
Scribner handed it over. “I believe you’ll find,” he continued, “that it is designed to lay heavy penalties on any employer who hires ‘dangerous’ people. And in the footnotes of this law, included in the categories of ‘dangerous’ people, are werewolves.”
The warlocks seemed to have come to this conclusion themselves by this time. “Your point being, Mr. Scribner?” said Warlock Sly.
“My point being, Your Honor, that Madam Umbridge clearly has an agenda against werewolves. An observer who wishes to take part in the case, as Madam Umbridge so clearly does, should be impartial, or if on a particular side, should state that from the outset. If Madam Umbridge wishes to become a witness for the prosecution, I would have no qualms about that, but as an observer, she leaves something to be desired.” Scribner seated himself at the defense table.
“Nice work,” Remus said quietly as the warlocks put their heads together.
“Makes a refreshing change to be telling the truth. Let me know if you ever have anything else of this sort that needs doing.” Scribner had his hands behind his head.
The warlocks were straightening up again. “Your point is taken, Mr. Scribner,” said Warlock Longwood. “Dolores Jane Umbridge is hereby stricken from the case as official observer. Madam Umbridge, you may leave the courtroom.”
Umbridge looked shocked. “But – Your Honor! I represent the Minister of Magic himself in this affair!”
“You do?” Warlock Longwood looked down her nose at Umbridge. “I wasn’t informed. Were either of you?” she asked her colleagues.
Sly shook his head. “News to me,” said Mables. “Why’s the Minister so interested in a simple custody case, anyway?”
“This is no simple custody case,” said Umbridge passionately, standing up. “The outcome of this case could very well be a turning point in our society – and you three warlocks could be the saviors of wizarding Britain as we know it, if you only decide correctly. The future of our children is at stake. For all our sakes, for the sakes of the children, do not let them fall into the hands of filthy half-breeds–”
“Objection!” shouted Scribner, jumping to his feet. “This woman was told to leave the courtroom, not start delivering a speech!”
“True,” said Warlock Mables. “Officers?”
Two burly young wizards in MLE robes moved in and took Umbridge’s arms politely but firmly. “Right this way, ma’am,” said one of them.
“You must not let yourselves be blinded by sentiment!” Umbridge cried shrilly as they escorted her from the room. “You must see past the façade of humanity that this creature projects...” Her voice was lost as another officer shut the door behind the three.
Scribner caught Remus’ eye and gave him a quick nod, stepping back. “Your Honors, if I may,” Remus said, standing up.
At the prosecution table, Officer Custer and Mr. Shybrook exchanged confused looks.
“Bit irregular, but nothing wrong with it,” said Warlock Mables. “We’re listening, Mr. Lupin.”
Ah-ha. That speech you were practicing last night...
Did I give it well?
Riveting. But bear in mind, I’m a biased audience.
So are they.
There’s a difference.
I know. I’m ignoring it. Here goes.
Luck, my love. Danger blew a mental kiss.
“I don’t know if I project a façade of humanity or not,” Remus began, getting chuckles from Warlocks Longwood and Mables and a smile from Officer Custer. “If I do, it’s without my intention. I would rather not pretend to be anything I’m not. Despite what some may say, I am human. I never asked to be a werewolf, and there’s no way to change it now. I’ve learned to live with the worst parts of it, and my friends, and especially my wife, have helped me see the good in it.”
Warlock Sly snorted under his breath, but kept listening.
“If there was some way to get what I want without challenging an existing law, I would gladly do it. I don’t want to make trouble. I never have. But I see no reason why what I’ve had for twelve years should be taken from me just because one fact about me becomes more widely known. If this is the price of getting my life back, then so be it.”
“Getting your life back?” Warlock Sly said, leaning forward. “This isn’t about your life – you’re free to go lead your life as you please.”
“But I’m not,” Remus said, meeting the other wizard’s eyes. “I’m not free to lead my life as I please. If I were, I wouldn’t be here right now. I’d be at home, reading my children’s letters from Hogwarts, thinking about seeing them over the Christmas holidays. My life, Your Honor, is not just about me. It’s about the people I love, the people I spend it with. That’s what makes life worth living for me.”
He turned to the prosecution table. “Mr. Shybrook has argued, and Officer Custer and other expert witnesses have testified, that all werewolves are rapacious, incapable of self-control, dangerous. This is true of many werewolves. But it is also true of some men who are not werewolves. In a court of law, men should be judged by their actions. Not by the labels which have been placed on them, however true these labels may be. After all, I don’t deny...” Remus smiled wryly. “...what I am. But neither will I deny who I am, and what I have done. And it seems to me that you,” he nodded to Shybrook and Custer, “refuse to see either of those things at all.”
He faced the bench again. “Your Honors, this case is not, ultimately, about all werewolves or all children. It is about one man, who happens to be a werewolf, myself, and one child, Hermione Granger-Lupin. If Officer Custer or Mr. Shybrook could prove to my satisfaction – and I like to think I am not an unreasonable man – if they could prove to me that my gaining Hermione’s legal guardianship could in any way harm her, I would drop this case immediately. If they could prove that my proximity would harm her, I would swear never to see her again. But they have done neither of these things, and so I persist.”
Warlock Mables nodded. “What is it you want, Mr. Lupin?” she asked, not unkindly.
“I’ve said my piece,” said Remus. “Let Hermione speak for herself. Mr. Scribner?”
“We request a four-day recess, Your Honors,” Scribner said, rising. “And at the end of that time, Miss Granger-Lupin’s testimony in court.”
“Objection!” Shybrook was on his feet. “Defense has not proved that testifying in court would be in the child’s best interest!”
“How could it possibly be against it?” Danger blurted, staring at him.
“Order,” grumbled Sly, banging his fist on the bench.
“As to the child’s best interest, surely that could be best determined by letting her speak for herself,” said Scribner smoothly. “She’s fourteen years old and quite intelligent enough to say what she wants.”
“With the man who’s had charge over her since she was a baby sitting in front of her, I have no doubt she’ll say what she’s been trained,” said Shybrook with a trace of a sneer in his voice.
Remus stood. “I would agree to remain separate from Miss Granger-Lupin,” he said. “Perhaps another room to watch the proceedings...”
“Oh, so she can know that if she puts a foot wrong, she’ll have you to answer to, is that it?” The trace had developed into a full-fledged sneer.
“If I’m that horrendous a monster, I’m sure she’ll tell you so and be shot of me forever,” Remus retorted, earning an honest laugh from Warlock Longwood.
“Request approved, Mr. Scribner,” she said after garnering nods from her colleagues, brisk in Mables’ case and grudging in Sly’s. “And I doubt a separate room will be necessary, if you will agree not to try to influence Miss Granger-Lupin’s testimony, Mr. Lupin.”
Remus smiled. “Your Honor, no influence will be necessary.”
“I’ll take that in the spirit in which it’s meant,” said Longwood dryly. “This hearing will resume in four days’ time.”
xXxXx
“Harry, you feeling all right?” said Ron at lunch. “You don’t look so good.”
Harry shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve had a headache all morning. It started in the common room and it won’t go away.”
“Do you mean a headache,” said Hermione, flattening her hand on her brow, “or a headache?” Her finger traced a lightning bolt down the center of her forehead.
Harry indicated his scar.
“And why haven’t you told anyone?” demanded Hermione.
“Hermione, it’s just a headache.”
“Just a headache. Didn’t you have a headache like that over the summer, after you had that dream?”
“What dream?” asked Draco.
Hermione held out her hand for Draco to touch. “Didn’t you?” she asked Harry.
Harry looked briefly away from her. “It’s neat on Moony and Danger,” he said. “But it’s just a little creepy on you. Yeah, I did.”
“You dreamed about Voldemort?” said Draco, quietly enough that only the next three people over from him shuddered. Ron gulped but managed to keep from making any noise.
Harry nodded. “Do you think I should tell someone?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Hermione emphatically. “I think you should have told someone hours ago. But now will do. Come on, Professor Dumbledore’s just leaving.”
“Doesn’t waste time, this girl,” said Ron, grabbing a last slice of bread as the Pride got up from the table.
xXxXx
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. “Did your scar hurt at all last night, Harry?” he asked.
“I don’t... wait, yes, it did. I remember I had a headache right after I talked with the twins about...” Harry clamped his mouth shut.
“Dear me, these old ears of mine,” said Dumbledore to the wall. “They play the most shocking tricks on me – what were you saying, Harry?”
“I did have a headache last night, sir,” said Harry, grinning to himself at Dumbledore’s scent, which had just picked up a distinct trace of mischief. “But it went away.”
“And began again this morning.” Dumbledore frowned. “You will forgive me for asking a possibly impolite question, I hope, Harry, but did you do anything which might have altered your surroundings? Do you have, for instance, a headache potion that you often take, or a charmed object you hold when you sleep?”
Harry shook his head. “I don’t think so, sir.”
“Do places count?” asked Ginny. “I mean, if Harry went somewhere unusual last night?”
“That would indeed count, Miss Weasley,” said Dumbledore gravely. “Harry?”
Harry glared at Ginny. Thanks a lot, he signed.
You don’t have to tell him everything, she answered, her fingers flying. He wants to help.
“Is this by any chance where you disappeared to after the Goblet of Fire produced your name?” Dumbledore asked.
Harry exhaled half a guilty sigh. “Yes, sir.”
“And may I inquire – merely with respect to information, I have no desire to violate your sanctum – from which room of the castle you entered it?”
“The kitchens,” Harry said. “That night, anyway.”
“And there is another entrance in the hospital wing,” Dumbledore said, glancing at Hermione. “And one in your common room, or you would not have been able to enter it last night. And, if I recall a certain story from your first year correctly, one in the Slytherin common room as well.” Blue eyes flicked over Draco. “I would assume the other two common rooms also have their entrances.”
“That makes sense,” said Ron. “For the other two... you know,” he finished lamely. “And you don’t have to kick, either,” he added with a glare at Meghan.
“Sir, do you know about this place?” asked Harry.
“I have heard rumors,” Dumbledore admitted. “Or perhaps ‘legends’ would be a better term. The place I believe you have discovered was once known as the Heart of Hogwarts. It was crafted by the four Founders working together, as a place of rest and tranquility. One of the most ancient stories of the school’s founding claims that after the castle was finished, as a private finale to the ceremonies which marked its opening, the Founders entered the Heart of Hogwarts, together with their grown children, and swore again to one another the oath which the Founders had sworn before beginning to build the castle.”
“Did they swear in blood?” Luna asked.
“So it is said. And it is also said that the stones of that place recall that ancient oath, and its breaking, and that the Heart of Hogwarts rose up in rebellion and sealed itself away until such time as true Heirs to the Founders, Heirs in blood and Heirs in heart, should come to Hogwarts again.”
“And that’s us, isn’t it?” said Luna, sounding pleased.
“If you have indeed found the Heart of Hogwarts, I think there can be no question,” Dumbledore said. “Two of you are confirmed Heirs in blood, and there may be others. All of you, I am quite sure, are Heirs in heart to the noblest traditions of the Founders, the qualities on which the Houses are based. So the Heart of Hogwarts has opened to you, and will shelter you through troubles. Especially you, Harry.”
“Why especially me, sir?”
“Your scar,” said Dumbledore, touching it gently with a long forefinger. “I believe that it may be indicative of some connection between yourself and Lord Voldemort.” He ignored Ron and Neville’s jumps and Ginny’s little shiver. “It pained you in your first year, when he was nearby, and recently, when you dreamed of him. I doubt he can have been pleased that his spy in Hogwarts was found out.”
“So... it hurts because he’s angry?” Harry hazarded.
“Quite possible.”
“But it won’t hurt when we’re in the Den... I mean, the Heart of Hogwarts.”
“Call it what you wish, Harry, it is your place now. And you are in a position to tell me. Did your scar hurt at all last night, after you entered this place?”
“No,” Harry said, thinking back. “No. It didn’t hurt at all.”
xXxXx
“So your scar means you’re connected to You-Know-Who?” said Ron later in the courtyard. “That’s just freaky.”
“One of these days we’re going to convince you that it’s just a name,” said Draco. “And you’re going to be able to say it right out loud, and hear somebody else say it without making faces over it.”
“Mum and Dad say it,” said Neville, breaking into the smile that still came up whenever his parents were mentioned. “They’re teaching me.”
“Teaching you?” Harry sighed. “Please. There’s nothing to teach. It’s a fancy anagram – remember, Ginny?”
“I try not to,” said Ginny from her place curled up in the sun with Luna combing her hair. “But yes, I do.”
“It’s just... I guess...” Ron leaned back against a pillar. “I’m running a race and I’ll never catch up,” he said. “No matter what I do, you lot can do it better or faster or smarter.”
“None of us can fly,” said Hermione. “Not without a broomstick. Maybe cats always land on their feet, but I’d still be dead if I fell off Gryffindor Tower. You’re not.”
“Yeah, well, I screamed most of the way down,” Ron said, but a smile was breaking over his face. “I can do it now. Just change, without thinking too much about it. I don’t need the incantation – I can just do it.”
“And that’s faster than anyone,” said Harry. “I still needed the incantation weeks after I first learned how.”
“So now we know how to get Ron to learn something,” said Luna, carefully disentangling a knot in Ginny’s red mane. “Push him off a roof.”
Ron joined in the laughter. “Not me,” he said. “But it might have worked with Percy. He’s actually scared of heights – not as long as he’s indoors, mind, or somewhere solid like the Quidditch stands. It’s just when he thinks he might fall.”
“That’s why he was so happy when he passed his Apparition test,” Ginny put in, her eyes closed. “It meant he’d never have to fly again.”
“He’s a nutter,” said Ron, shoving his hands in his pockets. His eyebrows went up. “What...” He pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment. “Oh, it’s that letter I got this morning. Doesn’t look like anyone I know.”
“Open it,” said Meghan, rolling over in the sun.
Ron did so and read it through rapidly. As he did, his face went from worried to indignant to scared. “Old hag,” he muttered. “She thinks she can come around here...” He handed the letter to Harry, who held it low so that everyone could see it.
Mr. Weasley,
I happened to be on Hogwarts grounds yesterday and witness to an amazing event – a young man with red hair falling from a tower window, and suddenly turning himself into a hawk, rather than being turned into one, as is the official story. Penalties for being an unregistered Animagus are quite severe, but I’m sure I could be convinced not to take my story to the authorities. Perhaps a few interviews on the real Harry Potter, even some convincing on your part to get him to talk to me as well? You have forty-eight hours to respond.
Rita Skeeter
“She signed her name to it,” said Draco in amazement. “That’s blackmail!”
“But she’s got me,” Ron said. “She knows. And she’s right – I’d only get off Azkaban because of my age, and they’d probably kick me out of Hogwarts...”
“Dumbledore knows about us,” said Harry. “He wouldn’t do that.”
Hermione was rubbing a handful of cloth between her palms. “Look, Ron, she has to have been within sight if she saw you. Did you see her? Hawks can see everything...”
“Let me think.” Ron closed his eyes. “After I fell... when I pulled up... no, there wasn’t anyone there. Not all along the lawns. Unless she ran into the castle, or the Forest, or ducked under the stands or something... nothing there but a big glittery beetle.”
“Glittery?” said Meghan. “Glittery like how?”
“Like glittery. It was all green and sparkly, and had kind of a halo around it.” Ron waved his hand. “Must have been magical.”
“A glittery halo,” said Draco slowly. “Does that sound familiar to anyone else?”
Harry and Hermione nodded. “Come on,” Harry said, standing up. “We’re free until Charms, and the kitchens are closest.”
xXxXx
In the Den, or perhaps the Heart of Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione changed forms, as did Ron. “That’s it,” he said, changing back straight away. “You’ve both got it too. That same glittery thing.”
“Neville, can you whisper me invisible?” said Hermione. “I want to get something.” She vanished into the red bedroom and returned a few moments later with her arms full of a grouchy Crookshanks. “What about him?”
Ron changed again, and back. “No. Not him.”
“So the beetle you saw wasn’t a beetle at all,” said Harry. “It was an Animagus.”
“And Rita Skeeter has a name for being a fly on the wall in the oddest places,” said Hermione gleefully.
“And she’s probably not registered,” said Draco, rolling his shoulders back. “So now you’ve got on her exactly what she’s got on you.”
“Which isn’t enough,” said Ginny. “You need more dirt on her, to keep her quiet.”
“Easy to say,” said Ron. “How do I get it?”
“Set up a meeting and have someone else there to listen who she doesn’t see,” said Luna. “She’ll try to blackmail you, then you show her that you have someone else there, and she won’t be able to do anything about it, because it will be two against one.”
“Makes sense,” said Ron. “But she’ll want to check around wherever we meet and make sure there’s no one there.”
“You can use the Cloak,” Harry said.
Meghan shook her head. “Cloaks can fall off,” she said. “But I know someone you can take. Someone who can be invisible no matter what.”
“Someone like who?” asked Draco.
Meghan tapped Neville on the arm. “Like him,” she said.
“Meghan, I can’t be invisible outside Hogwarts,” Neville reminded her. “And I’m pretty sure Rita Skeeter will want to meet somewhere else.”
“Yes, you can,” said Meghan insistently. “All you have to do is change.”
Neville thumped his head against the nearest wall. “How long have I been too dumb to live?”
“Ever since we’ve known you,” said Ron. “But you’re getting better. You’re only about halfway too dumb to live now.”
“Thanks a lot.”
Morpheus the chameleon owl flew out of the Owlery later that afternoon, carrying a letter signifying consent.
xXxXx
“I heard some very interesting news from Hogwarts,” said Aletha at dinner. “It seems Severus Snape ran afoul of a prank, and something he’d already taken on his own account made it last longer than it should have. Several hours longer.”
“What kind of prank?” asked Sirius eagerly.
“Swallow.” Aletha waited. “Someone turned him into a canary.”
“A canary.”
“Yes, a canary. You know, small yellow birds? Except this one was the same size as Snape. So a rather large yellow bird.”
The Pack enjoyed this image for several moments.
“And Snape never buys anything he doesn’t need, either,” said Sirius when he’d caught his breath. “So you know what he said when he was a canary?”
“No, what?” said Danger.
Sirius deepened his voice. “CHEAP!”
“And it lasted for hours?” Remus asked when everyone was finished laughing at this.
“Apparently. But take this with a grain of salt, my information’s third-hand at best. I’m sure we’ll have first-hand accounts by morning.”
“Yes, I’m sure they’d write us about something like that,” said Danger, shaking her head. “A canary...”
“I’ll find a cage for him if he’ll stay like that,” Sirius said. “With lots of birdseed to eat, and newspaper on the bottom...”
“That’s not nice,” said Remus.
“No, but it is funny.”
“True.”
xXxXx
Neenie the calico cat bounded through the forest with the Snow Fox hot on her trail. Come on, silly, she called in animal-speak. They’re waiting!
You come on. I’m faster than you. The fox speeded up and tapped her with his paw. We’ll run together.
Yes. Together.
They dashed side by side into the clearing where the small house sat and resumed human shape, the shapes they had chosen for tonight. Hermione’s hair was just a touch less wild than usual, her face subtly different, and her eyes, instead of hazel, were clear bright blue. Draco’s were the same, and his hair was very like hers, though cut so short that the curls barely showed. Anyone who saw them would know that they were twins. That was the point.
Together, they entered the house, and were met immediately inside by the embraces of their parents.
“Sillies,” Danger said, holding them both in her arms as Moony held them all.
“I wish I could go to the hearing like this,” said Hermione. “But I do have an idea.”
“Good,” said Moony. “Because that’s why you’re here. It’s coming up.”
“It is?” Hermione pulled away. “You mean really? They’re going to let me testify?”
“On Monday, Kitten. Can you be ready by then?”
“Watch me.” Hermione did a little dance step. “Do you think they’ll listen, though? Won’t they just say I’ve been brainwashed?”
“They might,” Danger admitted. “But all we can tell them is the truth.”
“That’s all we can tell them,” said Draco. “But what if we could show them?”
“What do you mean?” Moony asked.
Hermione showed him.
“Impressive,” said Moony, blinking to readjust his eyes. “But remember, you are in charge here, so you might be skewing it towards what you want instead of what’s real...”
“I’ll try it again tomorrow, in real life – I just thought of it before bed, so I couldn’t try it then – but if it’s real, do you think it would work?”
Moony nodded, and Hermione saw with surprise that his eyes shone bright. “I think it would work,” he said. “And I can’t tell you how proud I am... how happy...”
“You couldn’t have bribed me or beat me into that,” said Hermione, laughing. “I’d like to see you try. And you haven’t even seen what Draco can do.”
“Oh, they don’t want to see that,” Draco objected.
“On the contrary, I’d like to see it very much,” said Danger.
“Course you would.” Draco drew his wand and demonstrated.
“Well, if I’d known about that...” Danger looked a bit staggered. “Are you sure?”
“Like Moony said, no. But if I could pick, that is what I’d pick.”
“You are a horrible flatterer, and I love you to death,” said Danger. “And I’m going to prove it by killing you. C’mere.”
The tiny dream house rang with laughter.
Author Notes:
Since Dumbledore’s the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, it stands to reason that the other members must be just plain warlocks. Right?
A belated happy birthday to my beloved mother, source of many inspirations! Sorry that I’m so behind on responses, but tell the truth, wouldn’t you rather have another chapter? So please don’t forget to review!