"So you're out of detention," said Ginny, "and managed to get Dumbledore to put a leash on Umbridge. I have to ask, exactly what did you do to get those concessions?" The morning had passed quickly and painlessly, except for even more homework piled on – not that it mattered too much since they had already worked through most of the previous day's assignments – except Trelawney's dream diary.
"Let's just say that he talked a lot of shit, and I pretended to listen," said Harry with a smirk, as he made a start on his steak and kidney pie, "He's finally decided to talk to me, and all he wants to talk about is how he's worried I'm going Dark." That caused everyone to stop eating as Harry drained his fifth cup of coffee of the day, "Tell you what, after dinner, tonight let's meet and I'll show you the entire conversation. Then you can judge for yourselves."
Classes went smoothly, but Harry's somewhat private showdown with Angelina had made its way around the House, and the reactions of his housemates varied. Some were full of condemnation for him quitting the Quidditch team, but most were indifferent. He only hoped sentiment would stay indifferent. He did not need a fourth front to fight a war on.
Things were also ready at The Quibbler. The newspaper had put out a special edition, announcing the resumption of its exclusivity contract with Harry Potter for the next three years but had not mentioned any of his friends just yet. There would be no need to bring up their contracts, which were for media protection above all else.
That evening, as promised, Harry took full advantage of their trunks, gathering them together, including Fleur to watch an episode of "the Dumbledore saga," a title sardonically applied by Harry to what he was sure was going to be the first of many such time-wasting, pointless conversations. Dropping the silver thread into the Pensieve, Harry found himself wishing for popcorn, when Winky popped in, "Harry, I is trying something new in the kitchen, and is hoping you will enjoy." She dropped the bowl on the table and departed.
With a total of seven trunks and the residence between the pair of house-elves, there simply was not that much work for the pair. Harry had made sure that his elves, though essentially bonded servants, he treated them as friends, family even and the pair of elves still had time to help in the kitchens or do some general cleaning around Hogwarts. Otherwise, their duties were somewhat limited to carrying messages or some limited reconnaissance work on the numerous death eaters in training. Winky had discovered a curious passion for cooking and had taken to experimenting, and had thus far blown up the kitchen on several different occasions but her creations more than made up for it.
The popcorn was yet another original Winky creation. One taste and he knew that it was greasy, calorie-loaded, and ever so addicting. He passed the bowl around and it was empty in a flash, "This is going to go straight to my thighs," said Fleur with a shudder, "and I know this, and yet, I want more!"
"Winky!" called Harry, "More popcorn please!"
The pair of elves deposited a number of heaping bowls on the table and apparated out yet again. Munching on their post-dinner snack, it did not take long for the Goblin contingent or for Blake and Remus to arrive for the viewing. It also meant a few more bowls of popcorn had to be provided. Surrounded by his friends and allies, Harry just took a moment to savor that… feeling, "Here we go folks, the first episode in the Dumbledore Soap Opera Saga." It lasted a little over fifteen minutes and when it was done, reactions ranged from amusement to disbelief, anger, and annoyance.
"So let me get this straight." said Remus, "Dumbledore thinks you're going Dark, because you have recruited your friends into a private army, subverted members of the Order of the Phoenix, and used magic to defend yourself and your whale-like cousin," he ticked off the third point with his fingers, "Did I miss anything?"
"You did. While he was conducting his audio inquisition he was very inquisitive and kept trying to poke his way into my mind, very eager to find out just what I was up to, or just out of habit." Harry took a sip of his coffee, decaffeinated considering the hour, "He knows what I can do, Occulemency wise, but I made like nothing was going on," said Harry grimly, "Next time, I'm going to give him a world of hurt."
The discussion went around the table and they all agreed that it was a matter of time before Dumbledore began hauling them in for a fireside chat and a mind probe. Harry privately agreed with that assessment, "I don't have to like him, to work with him," he shrugged, ""Better the devil you know, than the devil you don't" was what he said to me, and frankly, I agree with him. I'm better off working with him than trying to get around Umbridge, especially if she winds up as Headmistress."
"But why not just reveal what she has done?" asked Ginny, "That would get her out of Hogwarts… out of the Ministry even."
"Harry, do you think she knows about the residence?" said Fleur suddenly, "It was common knowledge last year and it will only be a matter of time before she tries… something."
Harry shrugged, "Say what you want about our resident manipulative headmaster, but he's right. It's better than she be where we can take discreet action to contain her, rather than out there causing god knows what kind of grief. Besides, she's a problem for another time." said Harry, "For the moment, we have other things to discuss. Blake, Remus, how go preparations?"
"About six weeks till everything is ready," replied Blake, "It's mostly small details now, what with the wards and defenses in place and most of the heavy lifting completed. Security is up and running, supplies are coming in, but it's taking a long time to get some of it, hence… six weeks at least, no more than eight." He gave Griphook a small nod, "Without our friend's help here, the basement would have taken a long time to ward."
"Geomancy," said Griphook, "it is something Goblin's do very well." There was a measure of pride in that statement and no wonder. Non-Goblin Geomancers are rare and nowhere as skilled as the Goblins were. Then the Goblins had built their entire civilization underground making mastery of earth and stone a necessity.
"Have you been able to make an agreement with the Centaurs?" asked Harry.
The Goblin pair shook their heads, "They do not wish to partake in a war of men, I doubt that anyone from either side can sway them for the moment."
"Remus, your overtures to the werewolves?" asked Harry,
"I've managed to get a number of them lined up for questioning under Veritaserum," said Remus, "I think it's a good idea to get as many of them on our side as possible now. Free Wolfsbane has incredible attraction and appeal."
"Griphook, I presume that the Goblins are ready?"
Griphook hesitated, "I have my Clan, and kin ready to fight for you, but the Nation as a whole is refusing to ally themselves with any wizard, despite the events of the First War. It is, a work in progress, but I believe a number of the lesser Clans will side with you, in exchange for gold."
Harry put his hand on the Goblin's shoulder, "Griphook, all of you here should remember this. You do not fight for me. You fight with me," said Harry, "It's not about semantics. It is about loyalty and honor. We stand together, or we die alone…"
The conversation meandered over a number of topics and it was quickly becoming clear to the six teenagers, three adults, and two Goblins that Harry was creating an army of his own, to rival that of the Death Eaters and whatever other things walked, crawled, or slithered out of the darkness. "Or, strides out wearing the Dark Mark with a cloak around its shoulders," he thought darkly. Less than an hour later, however, there was only one final point on the agenda, with a nod to Fleur, "Griphook, I want the Residence and the bathroom in the castle placed under Fidelius."
The Goblin nodded thoughtfully, "A single charm or two separate ones?" Harry opted for two, citing that "an added layer of protection" would not be remiss given the political climate within the castle. "It will take time to prepare for the charms, end of the week?" Harry nodded, "If there is nothing else, Harry, I should be going, as Gringotts himself had a saying, "Whether night or day there is a golden profit to be made." He left via the fireplace Floo, leaving Harry and Fleur alone, for the first time in a few days.
It was awkward for a few moments between them, as they had never truly clarified where they stood, as friends, as a couple, as anything. Just because everyone thought that the two were a couple made things easier for everyone else. The night would be a long, but quiet one, Fleur saying she had parchment work, Harry citing homework. However, Fleur had one concern she had to raise, "Fred and George were telling me that you have resigned from the Quidditch team T'es sérieux?"
He shrugged, "I've got a madman with an army out to kill me, a headmaster trying to use me, and the wizarding public convinced I'm the madman, and I'm trying to build allies, and raise an army from the malcontent public to fight the real madman." Harry was more than a little bitter at the task before him, all because he had survived a curse as an infant. The prophecy from the Goblins was only coming true because he had survived the killing curse. That was something he kept to himself for the moment, not sure what the last two lines of it, really meant, "The last thing I need is something as ridiculous as Quidditch."
"You once told me that you need to look dark and brooding," she said, "not like cute Quidditch player just off the pitch. You were serious weren't you?"
"I was actually joking." he hesitated, "What did Fred or George say to you about me leaving the Gryffindor team?" she was contemplating the right answer to that question, "I'm guessing that both of them told you about Angelina and me having it out and then my rather… direct resignation?" she nodded, "That's… about the size of it," he confirmed. The rest of their evening passed in relative silence, apart from the occasional conversation, but the silence was comfortable enough. It was almost midnight when Harry excused himself, "need to keep up appearances," was his explanation.
A different set of conversations had taken place in the Slytherin common room, where Ronald Weasely was busy spilling his guts on everything he had on Sirius Black, including how Hermione and Harry had been the ones to rescue him while he lay unconscious in the hospital wing. Though he had contemplated sharing this during the summer via owl, it had occurred to him that it was very possible that Dumbledore was having his mail monitored. The information went from Ron to Draco and then on to Lucius Malfoy, who wondered just what to do with it.
Malfoy had received a copy of the solicitors' letter informing him of the exclusivity agreement between Potter and The Quibbler. Moreover, given that it came from the former friend of Potter, its greatest use would have been as propaganda material. The exclusivity contract had tied the hands of the Prophet. However, Dumbledore was not part of an exclusivity contract and his role in making the escape of Sirius Black's possible. In his private study within the depths of Malfoy Manor, Lucius set about composing a letter to the managing editor of the Daily Prophet.
Harry on the other hand was, to his delight, discovering that the Lady had indeed meant what she said, as he apparated between two spots in the bathroom. Apparition lessons with the Goblins had been something of a crash course workout but he had to admit it was very useful. He apparated into the library amongst the rarely visited and used reference section, and began casting a number of spells and charms, creating an impenetrable dead zone that no one would notice between two bookshelves. Saying goodnight to the Head Librarian Madame Pince, he walked out and apparated back to the Residence. With him being the early riser, someone would spot him on his morning workout. This established where he was at night, and it would take a little doing to make this a regular pattern so he would be able to account for any random disappearances.
Fleur decided enough, was enough, "You've done enough studying for one evening." She grabbed him by the front of his robes and pulled him into a kiss that lasted for several long moments. "I've done enough parchment work!" she kissed him again and dragged him into the training rooms of the residence where she seemed to just glide out of his grasp as she held her wand, "Something a little more physical?"
Harry grinned, as his wand appeared in his hand, "What do I get if I win?" he asked.
She grinned, "Anything you want!" A split second later, the first curse streaked from her wand towards him. He had a shield up and was already moving before the curse rebounded. It was going to be one of those nights.
In another part of the castle, Ron was reading a letter from his older brother Percy for the fifth time. He laughed, more than slightly amused at the counsel in contained "away from prying eyes and avoid awkward questions." Whatever, did his brother mean? "Look at the Daily Prophet tomorrow; you will get a good idea of the way the wind is blowing."
His brother's advice about avoiding "being tarred with the same brush as Potter" was very irrelevant, as those ties had been severed long before. It did not take long for Ron to put the pieces together, what with Percy singing the praise of Umbridge, the hints of "Dumbledore's regime" soon being over. He folded the letter and shrugged. Being Head Boy in a few years definitely did have appeal; he wondered whether he could gather a group of like-minded students, to be prefects, perhaps his prefects…
Breakfast the following morning was accompanied by gasps of shock, disbelief and more than one student had swallowed in fear and terror. The front page of the Prophet bore a large photograph of Dolores Umbridge smiling widely and blinking slowly from beneath the headline "Ministry Seeks Educational Reform" accompanied by the tagline "Dolores Umbridge Appointed First Ever High Inquisitor."
"High Inquisitor?"Said Harry darkly, his half‐eaten piece of toast slipping from his fingers. "What does that mean?" the article held all the details: Details which left Harry snorting into his coffee when he read about her being an "immediate success" that was "totally revolutionizing the teaching Defense against the Dark Arts." However, there were a few comments that he found himself actually agreeing with – the falling standards being one of them: History, Defense, and Divination were three prime examples. He was not too sure what to make of the teaching inspections. Those, he had no doubt, were bound to get very interesting…
Umbridge was not in the mornings' Double History or Double Potions lessons much to everyone's disappointment. Harry growled under his breath when he got his potions homework back on Moonstones with a large "D" in the top right corner. He shrugged and slammed the essay into his bag. The lesson went smoother, as he read and reread every line of instruction to create a modest Strengthening Solution that he delivered to Snape's desk before heading to the Great Hall for lunch.
"So how do the grades work for the OWLs?" asked Harry as he added salt and a touch of pepper to his bowl of soup before passing it to the twins.
"Well," said Fred, "Start at the top with "O" for "Outstanding," and then there's "E" for "Exceeded Expectations, and I've always thought Fred and I should've gotten "E" in everything because we exceeded expectations just by turning up for class…never mind turning up for exams," added George as an afterthought.
They laughed for a few moments, "So After "O" and "E" comes "A" for "Acceptable," said Neville, "The last passing grade right?"
"Yep," said Fred, dunking an entire roll in his soup before transferring it into his mouth and swallowing it, rather python-like.
"After that, it's all fail grades?" asked Harry.
"Yeah, "P" for "Poor" which means you just failed by a couple of points," continued Fred, "Then "D" for "Dreadful."
"Or Dunce, depending on who you ask," added Neville.
"Thought it stood for "Draco," said Harry with a dark smile as he took a sip of his coffee.
"And finally, "T," said George.
""T?" What the heck is that?" asked Neville, "Something lower than "D"?"
"Troll," said Fred as everyone burst out laughing again. Though Harry confirmed it with a sidelong glance at Neville, neither of them was sure if the twins were just pulling their legs or serious. "Any of you had an inspected lesson?" Fred asked.
"Didn't see her in History or Potions this morning," said Harry as he helped himself to a small portion of salad, "Any of you?"
"Charms," said George, "Just before lunch. Wasn't bad… All she did was sit in a corner and take lots of notes, asked a few students for the opinion on the classes. But it's Flitwick," he shrugged, "He gets everyone through OWLs and NEWTs alright."
"Who've you got this afternoon?"
Divination and it was, to Harry's surprise, an inspected lesson as Umbridge poked her head up through the trap door at the last minute before class could start. Everyone who had been talking quietly fell silent almost instantly, "Good afternoon, Professor Trelawney," said Professor Umbridge with her wide smile, "You received my note, I trust? Giving time and date of your inspection?"
The odd number of students in the class this time worked to Harry's advantage as it gave him free rein to pretend to read passages from the textbook while listening in on the conversation. At least he tried to listen in on what the two professors were saying. They were at the next table and Umbridge was making yet another note upon her clipboard and Professor Trelawney was beginning to get extremely aggravated, "Now," said Umbridge, looking up at Trelawney, "Youʹve been in this post how long, exactly?"
After a slight pause in which she seemed to decide that the question was not so offensive that she could reasonably ignore it, she said in a deeply resentful tone, "Nearly sixteen years."
"Quite a period," said Professor Umbridge, making a note on her clipboard. "So it was Professor Dumbledore who appointed you?"
"Thatʹs right," said Professor Trelawney shortly. The cloying incense seemed to recede, as Trelawney grew somewhat agitated, if not irritated with this particular line of questioning.
Professor Umbridge made another note, "And you are a great‐great‐granddaughter of the celebrated Seer Cassandra Trelawney?"
"Yes," said Professor Trelawney, holding her head a little higher as another note was made on the clipboard.
"But I believe – correct me if I am mistaken – that you are the first in your family since Cassandra to possess the Inner Eye or Second Sight?"
"These things can skip generations, three, seven even twenty generations," she replied as Umbridge's toad-like smile widened as she made yet another note.
"Perhaps you could predict something for me?"
"The Inner Eye does not function upon command," she said, clutching convulsively at the shawl around her scrawny neck, "And with so many students the ether is muddled at present. Perhaps if you return this evening? I cannot make an accurate prediction without first studying you."
"Studying me?" said Professor Umbridge incredulously, "Whatever do you mean?"
"Your star sign, the lines of your hands, your date of birth, as a starting point," She replied almost whimsically, "This evening then?" Umbridge gave a tight nod and Harry chuckled at the way Trelawney had actually put the bitchy toad on the defensive, "But already, I sense something, some danger about you or to you, a… weapon… hooves…" she almost whispered the last, "What time can I expect you?"
Umbridge left the class shortly thereafter, and Harry gave Professor Trelawney a slight smile and nod, which was returned in kind by the Divination Professor. The subject was still 70% bullshit, 20% nonsense, and 10% rubbish, but that was the subject, not the professor who taught the subject and managed to make it remotely interesting, so it wasn't all that bad, "You have to respect that," mused Harry, "Just wish I didn't die in every class."
Defense that afternoon was more of the same: verbatim reading from the book. Harry actually found himself dozing off, and fighting to stay awake, much like the rest of the class was and when the bell rang, he paused to remove the alertness charm he'd cast wandless on himself. And almost regretted it, "Should have kept that on till I got some coffee in me," he thought making his way to the Great Hall. Hedwig was waiting for him, delivering a message from Griphook. He hesitated but realized that the crowds of students would notice him talking to specific people and possibly draw attention from the staff table.
Carefully, he extended his Legilimency outwards, searching through the ocean of voices and thoughts until he located the six he was seeking. His touch was as feather-light as he could make it but they still visibly startled when he knocked upon their Occulemency shields and passed the message: Residence out of bounds until Friday. They acknowledged his request for privacy and he breathed a sigh of relief. Communicating through Legilimency was something new to all of them but they were getting a decent grasp upon making it work within line of sight. Satisfied, he retreated to the residence and took the Floo to his manor, where Fleur was waiting for him, "Miss me that much?" she teased him, "You saw me only yesterday."
He chuckled, pulled her into a hug, and let the smell of honey and apples with the freshness of a spring rain engulf his senses as he simply held the witch in his arms, and let the fragrance wash over him, "Still not comfortable… with other people around… you know?"
That much, was true, thought Fleur. Upon reflection, hand holding, a few chaste kisses were all she could get out of him in public. When they were alone, he was more… demonstrative, more physically affectionate. She recalled their duel the previous night. It had started with spells and wands and very quickly become something else entirely. However, there were still limits, and Fleur could understand them and had not pushed, but that's not to say that it was not… frustrating for her, given that her other half was screaming to tear his clothes off and… She dragged her mind out of the gutter and back to the moment, "So tell me, did you come to play or play?" She asked.
Her laughter was a light, happy sound, one that he never got tired of hearing, "I hope that Dobby remembered to turn on the heating for the pool!"
"Dobby did," replied the house-elf as he stared at the couple and hid a smile by studiously studying his reflection in the shine of his uniform's boots. It was a good image as far as he was concerned: Harry stepping over the threshold of the foyer, into the manor proper with Fleur in his arms, laughing all the while, "Dobby also has chocolate cake and whipped cream under a warming charm in case Harry and Ms. Delacour get hungry."
"I really should give that elf a raise," said Harry as he carried Fleur out to the pool.
"Harry James Potter!" she warned, "Don't you…."
He dived at the moment she hit the water with a shriek.