Character: Blaise Zabini
Letter: Z
Character: Blaise Zabini
Letter: Z
Chapter 4 of Draco's First Year at Hogwarts :). I think I just added random things to fill in space too soooo that will be interesting. Some of the info might be wrong but I'm too lazy to proof-read it. Let's just hope years-ago-me got it right :))
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The Slytherin Common Room
They stood in front of a normal looking stone wall in the dungeon corridor.
“This fortnight’s password is Serpent-tongue,” Flint informed.
They nodded, watching the wall very closely.
“Who else is on the quidditch team?” Draco asked.
“Come off it, Malfoy, you won’t be on the team,” Theodore said.
Draco grunted. That would change one day.
Flint looked at the stone wall. “Serpent-tongue.”
A stone door in the wall which wasn’t visible till now slid open. The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them which was good because the atmosphere was cold, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs. There were tapestries which Draco presumed were previous Slytherins.
“Wow,” Goyle mumbled.
“What gives it the green lighting?” Blaise asked.
“It goes under the lake,” Marcus explained.
Some older Slytherins shoved past them and got comfortable in the Common Room.
Marcus showed them their dormitory where Draco, Nott, Goyle, Crabbe, and Blaise would be sleeping in. Theo dormitory was covered in Slytherin crests. There were silver lanterns hanging from the ceiling. The beds they were to sleep in were ancient four-posters with green silk hangings.
“This isn’t that bad,” Nott said as he dragged his hand on the silk hangings.
Crabbe and Goyle instantly called their own beds and jumped into it.
Flint laughed. “If you want to know the password for the fortnights, it’ll be pinned on the notice board in the common room.” He left the dormitory
Draco found his trunk had already been brought like the conductor said. He changed out of his robes into his pajamas.
“I suppose we should sleep?” Crabbe suggested.
Draco and Theodore sneered. “Not likely,” they said at the same time grinning
But it was too late, Crabbe was out cold, as was Goyle.
Blaise was just sitting on his bed. Scoffing at Crabbe and Goyle.
“Sorry about them,” Draco said. “They’re not very bright.”
Blaise just turned on his side and went to sleep.
“You don’t suppose we should…” Nott said, his voice trailing off.
“And here I thought you were like me, Nott,” he replied. “We can’t go to sleep yet. We need to know the right people to talk to.”
But Theodore just rolled his eyes. “I’m guessing Harry Potter and the Weasleys are off the list?”
“Most definitely Potter,” he sneered. “And that Mudblood Granger. We might as well just cross off all of Gryffindor. They accept Mudbloods and Blood Traitors.”
Nott yawned. “Can’t we do this tomorrow, Malfoy?”
Theodore laid down in his bed.
Draco guessed he was the only one really trying to make his father proud. If he didn’t, well he didn’t know what. Would his father make him punish himself as he made their house-elf Dobby do? He had seen Dobby put his ears in the oven door or bang his head against walls. Sometimes his father reminded him for extra beatings, and occasionally his father would beat Dobby, too.
Draco shuddered thinking about it. He actually cared about Dobby but he couldn’t let his father know. All he wanted was to be accepted by his father.
He let himself fall into a deep sleep.
“Malfoy, wake up!” Theodore shouted.
“Bloody hell! What do you want, Nott?” Draco snarled.
This wasn’t the first time Nott had woken him up, it was already Friday. Classes were easy for him since he already knew so much about the Wizarding World. Mudbloods and people like Potter would have to catch up.
So Draco, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise went to Potions after they got ready.
“Who do we have it with?” Blaise asked Nott.
“The…” Nott looked down to read. He let out a loud grunt. That couldn’t have been good. Hopefully not the Hufflepuffs. “Gryffindors.” Well, that was even worse.
“I heard Professor Snape favorites Slytherins,” Goyle mumbled quietly.
“Is that why Slytherin has won the house cup six years in a row?” Blaise scoffed. “We didn’t actually earn it? That’s rubbish, there’s no point in the cup then.” Blaise walked sulkily with them until they got to Potions.
Good thing because the classroom was in the dungeons too.
“Eughhh!” Draco said as he saw animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.
Right now would’ve been a good time to be at Durmstrang and not Hogwarts.
Snape, started the class by taking a roll call. He paused at Potter's name.
"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity."
Draco and his friends sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black, they were cold and empty.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began.
He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word. Mostly because the class was silent.
"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
Draco looked around the room. The Mudblood, Granger, was about to fall out of her seat.
"Potter!" snapped Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Potter glanced at the Blood Traitor, who looked just as stumped as well; Granger’s hand had shot into the air.
Draco sneered at Granger, he had to be top in his class not some Mudblood.
"I don't know, sir," said Harry.
Snape's lips curled into a sneer.
"Tut, tut- fame clearly isn't everything," Snape muttered.
Draco had to hold in his laughter so Snape wouldn’t turn his attention towards him.
"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”
Granger stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go, but Potter didn't look like he knew anything.
Draco and his friends were shaking with laughter. The other Slytherins were right about Snape favoring them.
“I don’t know, sir,” Potter replied meekly.
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Professor Snape questioned.
"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
At this, the Mudblood stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.
Draco snorted.
"I don't know," said Potter quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"
Granger nodded in agreement.
Draco couldn’t hold in his laughter any longer; it suddenly burst out and the rest of the Slytherins couldn’t keep it in either.
Snape turned towards them and they fell silent.
"Sit down," he snapped at the Mudblood. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"
There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."
Draco scribbled it down quickly while sniggering. Goyle poked him ever so often, demanding to look at his parchment to copy down.
Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Draco, himself, whom he seemed to like.
Draco made a snarky face at Potter.
Snape was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Draco had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon.
The dorky boy, Longbottom had somehow managed to melt the Half-blood, Finnigan’s cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Longbottom, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.
"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
Draco laughed once more as Longbottom whimpered.
"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Finnigan. Then he rounded on Potter and Weasley, who had been working next to Longbottom. "You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."
Draco didn’t care how unfair this was to the Gryffindors and everyone else, he was loving it. While Crabbe and Goyle, Snape had disliked.
After the school day had finished, Draco went back to the Slytherin common room with Crabbe and Goyle.
“Anyone want to play a round of Wizard’s Chess with me?” Draco challenged. He could easily beat anyone.
“I will,” a female voice said.
Draco turned around. It was Pansy Parkinson.
“All right, Pansy.”
They sat down at a table and the board was already ready. To put it short and to not waste time, Draco won with no problem at all. He did it within minutes. Pansy was upset afterwards but shook hands with him and that seemed to make things better for her, weirdly.
Once again the week passed by quickly. Over the weekend, Draco and Blaise noticed there were flying lessons on Thursday but it was with Gryffindor.
“I suppose I’ll do anything to get on a broom. Father had just bought me one but I wasn’t allowed to bring it,” Draco said.
“I’ve played quidditch, it’s fun enough, I might try out for the team in a few years,” Blaise replied.
Until then, Draco kept on boasting about it to every first year and occasionally Marcus Flint and the Slytherin Quidditch team.
Thursday came and at breakfast, Draco’s eagle owl came with a package of sweets. He opened it gloating to other Slytherins.
Draco got up and brought Crabbe and Goyle with him to the Gryffindor table. He spotted something in Longbottom’s hand. He snatched it, it was Remembrall.
Potter and Weasley stood up immediately. Before a fight could break out, Professor McGonagall came to them in a flash as if she apparated there, but it wasn’t possible to apparate on Hogwarts ground.
"What's going on?” she demanded.
"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor," Longbottom tattled.
Scowling, Draco quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.
"Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.
“See there, Crabbe, Goyle? Gryffindor is nothing but a couple of snitches,” he snarled.
Around three, Theodore whispered to Draco, “The Gryffindors will be at the flying lesson around three-thirty, I heard them talking.”
“Then we’ll leave now,” he replied through gritted teeth. He beckoned Crabbe and Goyle.
When they arrived there were twenty broomsticks.
“These broomsticks are rubbish!” Blaise complained.
Draco looked down at them. They were nowhere near as good as what his father had bought him.
Nott was right, Potter and Weasley arrived at three-thirty with the other Gryffindors.
Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.
"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up. Stick out your right hand over your broom, and say 'Up!’”
"UP!” everyone shouted.
Many struggled to do it but Draco got it instantly. It flew up straight into his right hand.
Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips.
She came over to Draco and watched him. “That’s not right, Mr. Malfoy.”
“What?” Draco growled. “I’ve been doing it this way for years!”
Madam Hooch shrugged. “Then you’ve been doing it wrong for years.”
Draco turned pink. He hesitated to talk back.
She went back in front of the class.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - three - two -"
Longbottom had been so jumpy that he already bursted into the air.
“Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Longbottom was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle - twelve feet - twenty feet.
Draco saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and - WHAM - a thud and a nasty crack and Longbottom lay face down on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.
Draco, Nott, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle sniggered as Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.
“Broken wrist," she muttered. "Come on, boy - it's all right, up you get." She turned to the rest of the class.
“None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."
Longbottom hobbled off with Hooch.
Then, Draco burst into laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?"
The other Slytherins joined in.
"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."
"Look!" said Draco, darting forward and snatching the Remembrall out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."
The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.
"Give that here, Malfoy," said Potter quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.
Draco smiled nastily.
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about - up a tree?"
“Give it here,” Potter yelled, but Draco had already hopped onto his broom. This would teach Potter a lesson. He launched himself from the ground and Draco flew up high in the air, and called, “Come and get it, Potter!”
Potter grabbed his broom and Draco grinned. “No!” shouted Granger. He sighed, the Mudblood would not get in the way of his plan. "Madam Hooch told us not to move - you'll get us all into trouble."
Draco rolled his eyes. Potter kicked up into the air. He stared at Potter in disbelief.
“Give it here, or I’ll knock you off that broom!” Potter called.
Draco sneered, a bit anxious that Potter could fly so well. “Oh, yeah?” he said in a half sneer.
Potter flew at him and Draco narrowly dodged.
“No Crabbe and Goyle to save your neck, Malfoy.”
Draco felt anger rise up in his chest. “Catch it if you can, then!” he shouted. He threw the glass ball toward the ground.
To Draco’s surprise, he made a steep dive to the ground and reached out his hand and caught the Remembrall.
“Ugh!” Draco growled in disbelief.
Just when he thought his fun was done there was a loud booming voice: “HARRY POTTER!” It was McGonagall.
Potter trembled as he got off the broom.
Draco made his way to the ground subtly without Professor McGonagall noticing.
"Never- in all my time at Hogwarts-" Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "- how dare you - might have broken your neck-"
“It wasn't his fault, Professor-"
“Be quiet, Miss Patil
“But Malfoy-"
“That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."
Draco laughed. Potter had finally gotten what he deserved. Him and his friends triumphantly watched Potter follow Professor McGonagall.
“What’s your problem, Malfoy?” Weasley questioned.
Draco turned. He nodded his head towards Granger. “You and that filthy-“
But Finnigan interrupted Draco. “Don’t you dare say it!” he snarled.
Nott and Blaise laughed while Crabbe and Goyle stood behind him as backup.
“Say what? Mud-“
Once again he got interrupted. Madam Hooch had arrived again. “I’ll have to ask for you to go back to your common room. Madam Pomfrey wants no more injuries.” Her voice was bitter.
They went back to the dungeons. The downside was they couldn’t continue flying, but that didn’t matter. Potter was probably expelled or got detention for the rest of the year.
At dinner, Draco wasn’t prepared to see Potter happily telling students about how McGonagall had seemed to award him.
“Crabbe, Goyle, go listen to their conversation,” Draco ordered.
When they sat back down at the table, they were quiet.
“What happened?” Blaise demanded.
“Potter is the youngest quidditch player for Hogwarts in a century,” Crabbe mumbled. “And he’s the new Seeker.”
Draco turned very pink. “What?” he snarled. “In the century? He was supposed to be expelled!”
This was unfair, he was supposed to get punished but instead he had spent the afternoon with Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team learning about the sport.
“Well if I convince Flint to let me join the team, I would be Seeker as well and get the Snitch quicker than Potter could spot it!” he growled.
Draco got up hoping Crabbe and Goyle had just heard wrong. "Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"
"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Potter coolly.
Draco was smart enough to know they couldn’t get into a fight with Potter now or else that would land them both in detention. They simply just cracked their knuckles but Draco wouldn’t let them off so easily.
“I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Draco. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"
“Of course he has," said Weasley, wheeling around. "I'm his second, who's yours?"
Draco looked at Crabbe and Goyle, pretending to compare them in his mind.
“Crabbe,” he answered. “Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room; that’s always unlocked.”
Draco smirked and bounded back to the Slytherin’s table.
“What did you do now, Malfoy?” Theodore asked.
“Challenged Potter to a wizard’s duel,” Goyle said.
“Are you kidding? Potter’s the only one who’s survived the Killing Curse and vanquished the Dark Lord,” Blaise whispered.
Draco snorted. “When he was a baby, there’s no way he could take down the Dark Lord.”
“Yet he did,” Blaise argued.
He sneered. There was obviously no way of convincing Blaise.
“Hey, Blaise,” began Nott. “We’ve been meaning to ask you, were your parents Death Eaters?”
Blaise fell silent and just stared at them. He finally answered. “No, my mother has been married seven times. Each one has died. She hasn’t got time for all that.” He glanced at them. He stared at Draco. “Your father was Lucius Malfoy, he wasn’t under any Imperius Curse, was he?”
Fear striked in Draco's eyes. His father had trusted him, did he just let one of their darkest secrets slip?
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell. My mum and I are with the Dark Lord, he had the right idea,” Blaise muttered.
Relief flooded Draco. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied indignantly.
Blaise rolled his eyes. “What about you three?” He looked pointedly at Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle. They sat there silently.
“Then you must all have parents who work together.”
Blaise smirked as they all showed blank faces.
“Malfoy,” Theodore said, “shouldn’t you be preparing for your duel tonight?”
Draco snorted. “I know more than both Potter and Weasley combined. Besides, I’m not actually fighting a Half-blood and Blood Traitor.” That would be an absolute waste of time.
As I have been writing my Slytherin HBP re-write I have been asking myself for months how was able to put the Imperius curse on Madam Rosmerta and give her the necklace to give Katie. This wiki doesn’t mention how and now after months I have scoured through the entire book and not found a single explanation, just Malfoy admitting that he cursed her but not HOW.
While it is not stated anywhere in the book I think I have figured out at the very least how he cursed Madam Rosmerta. In the second half of the book it is theorized then confirmed at the very end that Malfoy had been giving Polyjuice Potion to Crabbe and Goyle to without suspicion guard the Room of Requirement, he either nicked the batch Slughorn made in the very first class, brewed his own (he did either get an O or E in his Potions O.W.L.), or a combination of both. So the answer to my question finally hit me, the Draco sitting in detention with Professor McGonagall was either Crabbe, Goyle, or Blaise Zabini (I personally believe Blaise), and Draco using Polyjuice potion himself went to Hogsmeade and the Three Broomsticks and cursed Rosmerta and gave her the necklace to give to Katie, the reason he cursed Rosmerta and not Katie directly was because he needed Rosmerta to later gift Slughorn the poisoned bottle and give the person he was disguised as more of an alibi for not being in the pub the moment Katie was cursed.
And who do I think he was disguised as in the bar? Blaise Zabini. To the best of my knowledge neither Crabbe nor Goyle are described as being in Hogsmeade let along the Three Broomsticks during the trip Katie was cursed, but the book very specifically says Blaise was there and that he was acting a little suspicious by lolling against a pillar in there. Now, technically Crabbe or Goyle could be the one pretending to be Draco in detention, as Blaise isn’t said to be involved in Draco’s plans anywhere in the book, but Draco is smart enough to know that if he’s running around looking like Blaise, and Blaise himself is running around, then that could pose an issue in his story, and while Blaise isn’t explicitly evil or a wannabe death eater he didn’t have to be for what he did, Draco was probably like “hey, I don’t want to do detention, I’ll pay you a lot of gold to look like me and attend, it’s with McGonagall so it won’t be to bad.” And not passing up lots of money he accepted.
The only thing this doesn’t solve is how did Draco get the necklace to the Three Broomsticks, that also isn’t explained and I really have no ideas there.
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Chapter Six: The Slug Club
Harry spent a lot of the last week of the holidays pondering the meaning of Draco Malfoy’s behavior in Knockturn Alley. What disturbed him most was the satisfied look on Malfoy’s face as he had left the shop. Nothing that made Malfoy look that happy could be good news. After explaining the situation to Canini Harry found to his slight annoyance, however, that neither his sister or Theodore seemed quite as curious about Malfoy’s activities as he was; or at least, they seemed to get bored of discussing it after a few days.
'We already know what he did was suspicious,' said Theodore a little impatiently. The three siblings were hanging out in the spare bedroom, and Theodore had been going over his copies of Advanced Potion-Making and Goshawk's Guide to Herbology at the same time before he looked up to talk to Harry. 'Unless you have proof about Draco that I don't know about, I do not want us to do anything that will make our dormitory any more awkward. I don't want to have to sleep with one eye open for ten months straight.'
'But there are key things we don't understand, like what happened to his arm,' argued Harry as he applied Fleetwood's High-Finish Handle Polish to his Firebolt.
'Maybe the Malfoy's fire jumped up and burned Draco before they Flooed to Diagon Alley and he was to proud to tell his mom and have her heal it?' suggested Canini, looking up from reading her copy of Enchanted Encounters.
‘But what about when he said, “Don’t forget to keep that one safe”?’ asked Harry for the umpteenth time. ‘That sounded to me like Borgin’s got another one of the broken objects, and Malfoy wants both.’
‘You think?’ said Theodore, back to going over his books.
‘Yeah, I do,’ said Harry.
‘You’re lucky I wasn’t there,’ said Canini, ‘because if I was Draco would have been Borgin’s last concern. I’ve been reading my mother’s diaries and journals and that man is a creep. The Burkes haven’t run the shop in decades and yet he seemed obsessed with my mother’s family all the way up until she died.’
Harry didn’t quite feel like unpacking all that information, when he realized the conversation was steering away from Draco he said, ‘Malfoy’s father’s in Azkaban. Don’t you think Malfoy’d like revenge?’
Theodore looked up quite puzzled.
‘I think the stand off between you two after we returned from the Ministry was his revenge? What else can he possibly do?’
‘That’s my point, I don’t know!’ said Harry, frustrated. ‘But he’s up to something and I think we should take it seriously. His father’s a Death Eater and—‘
Harry broke off, his eyes fixed on the window behind Canini, his mouth open. A startling thought had just occurred to him.
‘Harry?’ said Canini in an anxious voice. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Please say your scar isn’t hurting, should I get Remus?’ Theodore asked Theodore nervously.
‘He’s a Death Eater,’ said Harry slowly. ‘He’s replaced his father
as a Death Eater!’
There was a silence; then Theodore erupted in laughter. ‘Draco? Harry in the last war even what would become the darkest most powerful Death Eaters had to wait until they graduated to become a full follower of You-Know-Who, I think he didn’t want to have to teach them extra important spells that the school would have taught them. Is Draco even sixteen yet?’
‘Theo’s right Harry, what are the chances of You-Know-Who making a kid a Death Eater, even if that kid is a child of one,’ said Canini in a forced calm voice. ‘Why do you even think—?’
‘In Madam Malkin’s. She barely touch him, but he yelled and jerked his arm away from her when she went to roll up his sleeve. It was his left arm. He’s been branded with the Dark Mark.’
His two siblings looked at each other.
'Er...' said Theodore, as he had not been in Madam Malkin's shop.
'Harry, I just think he wanted to leave, not liking us doesn't make him a Death Eater,' said Canini.
'He showed Borgin something we couldn’t see,' Harry pressed on stubbornly. 'Something that seriously scared Borgin. It was the Mark, I know it—he was showing Borgin who he was dealing with, you saw how seriously Borgin took him!'
Theodore and Canini exchanged another look.
'Harry...this isn't proof...'
'And why would You-Know-Who let Lucius' failure son join his ranks?' asked Canini.
Annoyed, but absolutely convinced he was right, Harry snatched up his Firebolt and left the room and went to his own. He went to his desk and wrote up two identical letters, coded just in case.
"What if the classmate we ran into at the robe shop has followed in the footsteps of his dad's profession? Talk more tomorrow."
And he gave the two letters to Hedwig to give to Allison and Tracey. He then wrote a third letter that would have to have a more unorthodox transport. He addressed it to the only person he thought might be able to help.
"Dear Mr Weasley,
I have something personal I wish to tell you. Last week when our families were at Diagon Alley I followed Draco Malfoy to Knockturn Alley, he had been acting suspicious. He went to Borgin and Burkes and started bullying the bloke in there, Borgin, to help him fix something. And he said he wanted Borgin to keep something else for him. He made it sound like it was the same kind of thing that needed fixing. Like they were a pair. In your previous job you were able to raid suspected dark wizards homes to search for dark artifacts and with your new job you are allowed to confiscate items you deem to be dangerous, I believe such an item is at the Malfoy's home. As a member of the Order there is something else I think you should know. I saw Malfoy jump about a mile when Madam Malkin tried to touch his left arm. I think he’s been branded with the Dark Mark. I think he’s replaced his father as a Death Eater. This could mean terrible things with him at Hogwarts. I think it is worth investigating and you are the only Order member I know with both the authority to do so and the knowledge to find the dark or dangerous item. If possible any help or advice you can provide would be appreciated. Send response to Ron.
~Harry"
He tucked the letter into the pocket of the clothes he planned on wearing to the station the next day then picked up his Firebolt and headed down stairs with the intention of going flying in the field to blow off some steam. When he got to the bottom however Remus approached him while holding some ingredients for a Lancashire hotpot.
'Oh Harry, glad you're here,' said Remus cheerfully. 'I was hoping to tell you about the security arrangements for the journey to Hogwarts tomorrow. There's going to be another Ministry car, and this time there will be Aurors waiting for us at the station—'
'Is Tonks going to be there?' asked Harry, leaning his broom next to the sofa.
'No, I think because she fought at the Ministry against Death Eaters they assigned her to a role they see as very important, though I'm not sure if she sees it that way.'
'Well I hope the Aurors I do get tomorrow won't be to annoying,' said Harry, as he doubted the Ministry would assign him Kingsley if they wouldn't even give him Tonks.
'Speaking of tomorrow, are you all packed?' asked Remus as he started chopping potatoes.
'Er, no,' Harry admitted.
'What? then why are you going out flying, get that broom back up stairs and pack, we leave early tomorrow morning.'
And so Harry went up stairs in a huff and packed everything he would need for at least until Christmas. His truck thankfully felt lighter without his cauldron or glass vials of ingredients.
Hedwig thankfully returned not long before dawn so Harry did not have to explain her absence to Remus, and in fact, their departure the following morning was smoother than usual. The Ministry cars glided up to the front of the cottage to find them waiting, trunks packed; Theodore’s toad, Phileas, safely enclosed in his travel carrier; and Hedwig; and Canini’s owl, Janus in their cages.
There was no cheerful Hagrid waiting for them at King’s Cross Station. Instead, two grim-faced, bearded Aurors in dark Muggle suits moved forward the moment the cars stopped and, flanking the party, marched them into the station without speaking.
'Alright, quickly now, everyone through the barrier,' said Remus, who seemed a little flustered by this austere efficiency. 'Harry I guess should go first with, er, you there—'
He looked inquiringly at one of the Aurors, who nodded briefly, seized Harry’s upper arm, and attempted to steer him toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten.
'I can walk, thanks,' said Harry irritably, jerking his arm out of the Auror’s grip. He pushed his trolley directly at the solid barrier, ignoring his silent companion, and found himself, a second later, standing on platform nine and three-quarters, where the scarlet Hogwarts Express stood belching steam over the crowd.
The rest of his family joined him within seconds. Without waiting to consult his grim-faced Auror, Remus huddled the three teens together.
'This year is going to be rough, and scary, and nothing like you have experienced before, but I know if you all stick together and with the friends you trust you all will be ok as you have already shown how strong each o you can be when you're together,' he gave them each a hug, but then his face went quite serious. 'I'm going to be taking on some missions for the Order, nothing to dangerous, so you might not always be able to reach me by floo, but if you send me an owl I promise you'll get a response from me within a week. Oh and you'll be allowed to come home to Mould-On-The-Wold for Christmas if you wish. Now, go board the train before the Aurors shove you on, I love you all.'
'Love you.'
'Love you Remus.'
'We love you too Moony.'
And with their goodbyes said they started making their way up the platform, looking for empty compartments, although Harry made a detour when he spotted Ron Weasley.
'Scarface, where are you going, that's the Prefect section?' asked Canini.
'Just one second, ok.'
He caught up with Ron before he got on the train.
'Oh, hi Harry,' he said with a smile.
'Ron, I got to ask you a favour, me and my families mail gets searched at the Ministry, would you be willing to send this letter to your dad?'
'Er, sure,' said Ron, taking the letter, 'but I think he's still here somewhere, you could give it to him yourself.'
'The train is about to leave, so I don't know if I have enough time to find him and get back to the train.'
'Well alright then, I'll give it to Pigwidgeon the moment we reach Hogwarts.'
'Thanks Ron,' and with that settled Harry quickly sprinted back over to his siblings.
'What was that about?' asked Theodore.
'Just needed his help with something, we should find a compartment before they fill up.'
'Sorry bro,' said Canini apologetically, 'I'm sitting with Bhavana and our group, but I'll see you at Hogwarts.'
'And I haven't seen Colin all summer and he's invited me to be with him and his friends,' said Theodore. 'Don't worry though Harry, I just saw Tracey and Neville get on the train, I'm sure you can join them.'
'Alright, I will see you guys at Hogwarts,' said Harry.
'Yes, see you.'
There was a whistle behind them; nearly everyone had boarded the train and the doors were closing. They hurriedly load their trunks onto the train, and Harry, waving to Remus in the distance, slammed the door shut behind him and the train began to move and gather speed.
Harry waved until the train had turned a corner and his adoptive father was lost to view, then turned to see where the others had got to.
Before he could find them though he heard a calm voice behind him.
‘Hi Harry,’ said his old friend Susan Bones as he turned to greet her. Her light brown hair was still in its usual long plait down her back, however her pale blue eyes seemed hollow.
‘Hey Susan, how have you been doing this past month?’ Harry asked, hoping it didn’t sound to insensitive.
‘About the same as you, I assume. It’s been hard but Lily and the Moons have been a great support to me, I don’t know how I would have gone through all this without them. I hope your family has been a support to you as well.’
‘They have, I don’t think I would have turned out as well without my friends and family,’ answered Harry honestly.
‘Well speaking of friends, Lily, Justin, and Sally want me to join them for the ride,’ she said with a smile. Harry was happy to see she was doing all right.
‘Yes, my friends are probably wondering where I am to. I’ll see you at Hogwarts.’
‘See you Harry.’
He then set out to try and find the compartment with his friends made, dragging his trunk. People stared shamelessly as he approached. They even pressed their faces against the windows of their compartments to get a look at him. He had expected an upswing in the amount of gaping and gawping he would have to endure this term after all the “Chosen One” rumors in the Daily Prophet, but he did not enjoy the sensation of standing in a very bright spotlight. Before long he looked around: He was surrounded by mesmerized girls.
‘Hi, Harry!’ said a familiar voice from behind him.
‘Neville!’ said Harry in relief, turning to see a round-faced boy struggling toward him.
‘Hello, Harry,’ said a girl with long blonde hair and large misty eyes, who was just behind Neville.
‘Luna, hi, how are you?’
‘Very well, thank you,’ said Luna. She was clutching a magazine to her chest; large letters on the front announced that there was a pair of free Spectrespecs inside.
‘Quibbler still going strong, then?’ asked Harry, who felt a certain fondness for the magazine, having given it an exclusive interview the previous year.
‘Oh yes, circulation’s well up,’ said Luna happily.
‘Our compartment is just up ahead if you want to join, I just popped out to try to find Luna,’ said Neville pointing ahead. ‘Oh, looks like Terry is leaving so there should be enough room for everyone.’
Sure enough just a few compartments up a brown haired Ravenclaw with a constellation of freckles on his face was happily walking out of one of the sliding doors. Harry gave him a nod of acknowledgment as they passed each other and then Harry entered the compartment he had exited to be greeted by the smiles of Tracey, Allison (now back to wearing her pink headband), and another Slytherin friend of Harry’s Terence Higgs. Terence was wearing an identical small green locket to the one Harry had first seen Tracey wearing in Diagon Alley and now assumed they were some sort of couple trinket. Harry hurried inside gratefully to be amongst friends.
'Harry, its good to see you,' said Terence brightly. 'How has your summer been all things considered?'
'Not bad, spent a lot of time with my family. How was yours.'
'Also good, though couldn't practice as much as I would have liked as me and my parents agreed its for the best the wizarding world doesn't learn to much about where we live just in case, that meant I could only practise flying on cloudy nights.'
Harry was going to respond, but was cut off by Neville pointing out the compartment window.
'They’ve been staring at us since we ran into you in the corridor!' said Neville, indicating himself and Luna. 'Because we’re with you!'
'They’re staring at you because you were at the Ministry too,' said Harry, as he hoisted his trunk into the luggage rack. 'Our little adventure there was all over the Daily Prophet, you must’ve seen it.'
'Yes, I thought Gran would be angry about all the publicity,' said Neville, 'but she was really pleased. Says I’m starting to live up to my mom and dad at long last. She bought me a new wand, look!'
He pulled it out and showed it to Harry.
'Cherry and unicorn hair,' he said proudly. 'We think it was one of the last Ollivander ever sold, he vanished next day—oi, come back here, Trevor!'
And he dived under the seat to retrieve his toad as it made one of its frequent bids for freedom.
'Speaking of pets,' said Allison pointing to the pink fluffy ball on her lap, 'this is the Pygmy Puff I bought, I've named her Mignonne, Mig for short.'
'She is very cute,' said Harry, which caused Tracey to laugh.
'Exactly,' Allison said, with a little giggle herself, her smile was quite pretty. 'Mignonne is french for cutie.'
'Are we still doing D.A. meetings this year, Harry?' asked Luna, who was detaching a pair of psychedelic spectacles from the middle of The Quibbler.
'No point now we’ve got rid of Umbridge, is there?' said Harry, sitting down. Neville bumped his head against the seat as he emerged from under it. He looked most disappointed.
'I liked the D.A.! I learned loads with you!'
'I enjoyed the meetings too,' said Luna serenely. 'It was like having friends.'
'We are friends, Luna,' said Harry. This was one of those uncomfortable things Luna often said and which made Harry feel a squirming mixture of pity and embarrassment, but he still cared for her.
'That's nice,' said Luna. Before anyone else could say anything else, however, there was a disturbance outside their compartment door; a group of fourth-year girls was whispering and giggling together on the other side of the glass.
'You ask him!'
'No, you!'
'I’ll do it!'
And one of them, a bold-looking girl with large dark eyes, prominent bone structure, and long black hair pushed her way through the door.
'Hi, Harry, I’m Romilda, Romilda Vane,' she said loudly and confidently. 'Why don’t you join us in our compartment? You don’t have to sit with them,' she added in a stage whisper, indicating Neville’s bottom, which was sticking out from under the seat again as he groped around for Trevor, and Luna, who was now wearing her free Spectrespecs, which gave her the look of a demented, multicolored owl. She didn't gestured to Terence, Allison, or Tracey, but the point was still clear that they didn't think his friends were good enough.
'They’re friends of mine,' said Harry coldly.
'Oh,' said the girl, looking very surprised. 'Oh. Okay.' And she withdrew, sliding the door closed behind her.
'People expect you to have cooler friends than us,' said Luna, once again displaying her knack for embarrassing honesty.
'You are cool,' said Harry shortly. 'None of them was at the Ministry. They didn’t fight with me. Nor did they stand by my side and believe me all last year.'
Harry added the last part as while Terence did not fight at the Ministry Harry knew he would have had he known, and he had supported Harry all the previous year when majority of the student body didn't.
'That’s a very nice thing to say,' beamed Luna. Then she pushed her Spectrespecs farther up her nose and settled down to read The Quibbler.
'We didn’t face him, though,' said Neville, emerging from under the seat with fluff and dust in his hair and a resigned-looking Trevor in his hand. 'You did. You should hear my gran talk about you. "That Harry Potter’s got more backbone than the whole Ministry of Magic put together!" She’d give anything to have you as a grandson...'
Harry laughed uncomfortably and changed the subject to O.W.L. results as soon as he could. While Neville recited his grades and wondered aloud whether he would be allowed to take a Transfiguration N.E.W.T. with only an “Acceptable,” Harry watched him without really listening.
Neville’s childhood had been blighted by Voldemort just as much as Harry’s had, but Neville had no idea how close he had come to having Harry’s destiny. The prophecy could have referred to either of them, yet, for his own inscrutable reasons, Voldemort had chosen to believe that Harry was the one meant. Had Voldemort chosen Neville, it would be Neville sitting opposite Harry bearing the lightning-shaped scar and the weight of the prophecy...Or would it? Would Neville’s mother have died to save him, as Lily had died for Harry? Surely she would...But what if she had been unable to stand between her son and Voldemort? Would there then have been no “Chosen One” at all? An empty seat where Neville now sat and a scarless Harry who would have been kissed good-bye by his own mother, not a hug from Remus?
'Harry, is everything ok? You look spaced out,' asked Tracey.
Harry started. 'Sorry—I—'
'Wrackspurt got you?' asked Luna sympathetically, peering at Harry through her enormous colored spectacles.
'I—what?'
'A Wrackspurt...They’re invisible. They float in through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy,' she said. 'I thought I felt some zooming around in here.'
She flapped her hands at thin air, as though beating off large invisible moths. Harry and Terence caught each other’s eyes and hastily began to talk of Quidditch which made Allison’s eyes light up.
‘Oh, Harry, when Terry was here checking up on me I confessed to him and the others that now that I can’t be an Auror I am fully committed to becoming a quidditch player and you wouldn’t believe what Terry told me,’ she said so excitedly it was shocking, no longer having to train to be something she didn’t want to be and actually pursuing her dreams was bringing the best out of her. ‘So bear in mind my parents only told me about Terry became we were going to be in the same year at Hogwarts. Anyway when I told Terry I wanted to be a quidditch player he told me that he has an older first cousin who is also my second cousin named Diana-Lee Boot and that she professionally plays as a Seeker for the Banchory Bangers. They aren’t the best team to be honest but even so Terry said if I send her a letter she’d probably be happy to give me lists of advice and then at the end of next year help me apply to some teams.’
‘That’s spectacular!’ admitted Harry, who now wished he had his life figured out like Allison did.
The weather beyond the train windows was as patchy as it had been all summer; they passed through stretches of the chilling mist, then out into weak, clear sunlight. It was during one of the clear spells, when the sun was visible almost directly overhead, that the compartment door slid open again and a breathless third-year girl stepped inside. ‘I’m supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom, Tracey Davis, and Harry P-Potter,’ she faltered, as her eyes met Harry’s and she turned scarlet. She was holding out three scrolls of parchment tied with violet ribbon. Perplexed, Harry, Tracey, and Neville took the scroll addressed to each of them and the girl stumbled back out of the compartment.
‘What are they?’ asked Terence, as Harry unrolled his.
‘An invitation,’ said Harry.
“Harry,
I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C.
Sincerely,
Professor H. E. F. Slughorn”
‘Who’s Professor Slughorn?’ asked Neville, looking perplexedly at his own invitation.
‘New teacher,’ said Harry. ‘Well, I suppose we’ll have to go, won’t we?’
‘But what does he want me for?’ asked Neville nervously, as though he was expecting detention.
‘Or me?’ said Tracey. ‘I’ve never even heard of him before.’
‘No idea,’ said Harry, which was not entirely true, though he had no proof yet that his hunch was correct. ‘Listen,’ he added, seized by a sudden brain wave, ‘let’s go under the Invisibility Cloak, then maybe we’ll be able to pass Malfoy on the way, see what he’s up to.’
This idea, however, came to nothing: The corridors, which were packed with people on the lookout for the lunch trolley, were impossible to negotiate while wearing the cloak. Harry stowed it regretfully back in his bag, reflecting that it would have been nice to wear it just to avoid all the staring, which seemed to have increased in intensity even since he had last walked down the train. Every now and then, students would hurtle out of their compartments to get a better look at him. The exception was Cho Chang, who smiled slightly when she saw him then went into her compartment. As Harry passed the window, he saw her sitting next to Michael Corner and in a deep conversation with her friend Marietta, who was wearing a cloth headband that did not entirely obscure the green leak leaves stinking out from her ears. Reminiscing slightly, Harry pushed on.
74 Votes in Poll
Parents: Lucius Malfoy, Sirius Black
Favorite class: Charms
Teacher who likes me: Remus Lupin
Pet: Black cat
Trio: Tom Riddle, Luna Lovegood, Me
Best Friend: Ferret Boy (Draco)
Who I study with: Hermione Granger
Who is jealous of me: Hermione Granger
First Kiss: Parvati Patil
Who saves me in BOH: George Weasley
Who I eventually marry: Blaise Zabini
#SlytherinLife lol
111 Votes in Poll
Soo, I see a lot of Roise (Ron and Blaise) and Pansmione (Hermione and Pansy) videos on youtube. It seems that a lot of people ship them but uhh I just really don't get why. First off, Ron has never spoken a word to blaise, and Hermione has never spoken a word to pansy, so why are they being shipped? Though, it is mostly the gacha community who ships them, and it seems like the gacha community just loves making everyone LGBTQ+ for some reason. It's mostly drarry shippers who actually ship these two, because they also want Ron and Hermione to be in an LGBTQ+ relationship for some reason. So, they choose Blaise and Pansy, because they happen to be really close to draco I guess? I don't know. I just really don't get why this ship is so popular.
91 Votes in Poll
Neville: I'm hot, I’m tall, I'm gay, and I'm on my theatre kid arc.
Pansy: Next time I'm at the pet store, I'm gonna take a hamster and drop it in the scorpion cage. I wanna see what a hamster's face looks like when it goes, "oh, f***."
Neville: It's not like I try to blow things up, exactly. It just sort of happens. You've got to admit though, fire is fascinating.
Ron: You can de-escalate literally any situation by asking ‘are we about to kiss?’
Ron: Doesn't work with getting out of speeding tickets, though.
Draco: If looking good was a crime, you’d be a law abiding citizen.
Harry: Say no to drugs.
Harry: Say yes to drugs.
Harry: It doesn't matter if you say yes or no to drugs, cause if you're talking to drugs... then you're on drugs.
Blaise: When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons, what the hell am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Blaise lemons! Do you know who I am? I'm the person who's gonna burn your house down! With the lemons! I'm gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!
Shapeshifter: *transforms to look like Hermione*
Hermione: Okay, are you like BLIND? You look nothing like me. First off, I'm way taller. Secondly, I DO NOT look so sleep deprived and lastly, if you could drag comb through that hair you're like a 7 on a good day and I've been told I'm a constant 10.
Harry : Sometimes, I don’t realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weird.
Pansy: So according to the cease and desist order I got, apparently you can’t ‘legally’ be a lawyer if your license is ‘cut out of a cereal box’.
Like seriously, so many people on TikTok and stuff are simping for him. Am I missing something, because I'm pretty sure he only had three lines and he wasn't that important.
Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003622070
Chapter 2: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003623371
Chapter 3: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003624429
Chapter 4: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003627163
Chapter 5: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003627566
Chapter 6: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003628099
Chapter 7: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003629240
Chapter 8: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003629849
Chapter 9: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003633592
Chapter 10: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003636880
Tags: @CatsAndRoblox @Bellatrisblack @Rose.gold.kiisses
(Big announcement, the next chapter after this one will be completely original, it has been so fun to write so far.)
Chapter Eleven: The Sorting Hat’s New Song
Harry still wasn’t sure if Theodore was telling the truth about being able to see the horses, and he did not want to tell the others that he and Luna were having the same hallucination, if that was what it was, so he said nothing about the horses as he sat down inside the carriage and slammed the door behind him. Nevertheless, he could not help watching the silhouettes of the horses moving beyond the window.
‘So you all saw Professor Grubbly-Plank woman?’ asked Allison. ‘Do you think something happened to Hagrid? Maybe Fudge forcing him to be fired like he did to Mr Lupin?’
‘I wouldn’t mind if he wasn’t in charge of Care of Magical Creatures,’ said Luna. ‘He isn’t a very good teacher, is he?’
‘Yes, he is!’ said Harry, Tracey, and Theodore angrily.
Harry glared at Allison; she looked around then quietly said, ‘Oh...right...great teacher.’
‘Well, we think he’s a bit of a joke in Ravenclaw,’ said Luna, unfazed.
‘That’s surprising then,’ said Tracey, ‘because Hagrid knows everything about every single magical creature in the world, I thought Ravenclaw appreciated knowledge.’
Luna did not seem perturbed by Tracey’s; on the contrary, she simply watched her for a while as though she were a mildly interesting television program.
Rattling and swaying, the carriages moved in convoy up the road. When they passed between the tall stone pillars topped with winged boars on either side of the gates to the school grounds, Harry leaned forward to try and see whether there were any lights on in Hagrid’s cabin by the Forbidden Forest, but the grounds were in complete darkness. Hogwarts Castle, however, loomed ever closer: a towering mass of turrets, jet-black against the dark sky, here and there a window blazing fiery bright above them.
The carriages jingled to a halt near the stone steps leading up to the oak front doors and Harry got out of the carriage first. He turned again to look for lit windows down by the forest, but there was definitely no sign of life within Hagrid’s cabin. Unwillingly, because he had half hoped they would have vanished, he turned his eyes instead upon the strange, skeletal creatures standing quietly in the chill night air, their blank white eyes gleaming.
Harry had once before had the experience of seeing something that others could not, but that had been a reflection in a mirror, something much more insubstantial than a hundred very solid-looking beasts strong enough to pull a fleet of carriages. If Luna and Theodore were to be believed, the beasts had always been there but invisible; why, then, could Harry suddenly see them, and why could Allison and Tracey not?
'Harry, are you feeling alright?' asked Tracey looking at him with concern. 'The feast will be starting soon.'
'Oh...yeah,' said Harry quickly, and they joined the crowd hurrying up the stone steps into the castle.
The entrance hall was ablaze with torches and echoing with footsteps as the students crossed the flagged stone floor for the double doors to the right, leading to the Great Hall and the start-of-term feast.
The four long House tables in the Great Hall were filling up under the starless black ceiling, which was just like the sky they could glimpse through the high windows. Candles floated in midair all along the tables, illuminating the silvery ghosts who were dotted about the Hall and the faces of the students talking eagerly to one an- other, exchanging summer news, shouting greetings at friends from other Houses, eyeing one another’s new haircuts and robes. Again Harry noticed people putting their heads together to whisper as he passed; he gritted his teeth and tried to act as though he neither noticed nor cared.
Luna drifted away from them at the Ravenclaw table. The moment they reached the Slytherin table, whispers burst out through out the entire hall. Harry tried to ignore them by trying to find those he recognized in the crowd of people. Ron, the twins, Ginny, Neville, Collin, and another friend of Harry's named Hermione Granger were all sitting at the Gryffindor table not far away from Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor House ghost, Susan Bones was sitting with her girlfriend Lily Moon at the Hufflepuff table, Canini and her three best friends also sat that table, then as Harry and his friends sat down they were joined by Terence and his friend Adrian Pucey. Further up their table Harry could also see Draco Malfoy, Daphne Greengrass, and Millicent Bulstrode talking quietly, and at the very top of the table was Pansy and her goons. Someone Harry could not see however was Hagrid.
He had been looking over the students’ heads to the staff table that ran along the top wall of the Hall.
‘He’s not there.’
Theodore, Allison, and Tracey scanned the staff table too, though there was no real need; Hagrid’s size made him instantly obvious in any lineup.
‘Maybe he really is sick,’ said Tracey, now sounding a bit worried.
‘He probably isn’t,’ said Harry firmly.
‘We’ve been so worried about Sirius, Remus, and Tonks we never even thought about other Order members like Hagrid,’ Theodore whispered.
‘I’m sure we would have heard something if Death Eaters got him,’ said Harry in a false confidence.
‘But if he’s ok, than where is he?’ asked Allison.
There was a pause, then Harry said very quietly, so that Adrian and Peregrine could not hear, ‘Maybe he’s not back yet. You know—from his mission—the thing he was doing over the summer for Dumbledore.’
‘Sure...okay, that’s probably right,’ said Tracey, sounding reassured, but Theodore bit his lip, looking up and down the staff table as though hoping for some conclusive explanation of Hagrid’s absence.
‘There’s someone other than Professor Grubbly-Plank,’ observed Theodore, pointing toward the middle of the staff table.
Harry’s eyes followed to the center of the table. They lit first upon Professor Dumbledore, sitting in his high-backed golden chair at the center of the long staff table, wearing deep-purple robes scattered with silvery stars and a matching hat. Dumbledore’s head was inclined toward the woman sitting next to him, who was talking into his ear. She looked, Harry thought, like somebody’s maiden aunt: squat, with short, curly, mouse-brown hair in which she had placed a horrible pink Alice band that matched the fluffy pink cardigan she wore over her robes. Then she turned her face slightly to take a sip from her goblet and he saw, with a shock of recognition, a pallid, toadlike face and a pair of prominent, pouchy eyes.
‘It’s that Umbridge woman!’
‘Who?’ said Theodore.
‘She was at my hearing, she works for Fudge!’
‘My father has mentioned her a few times before,’ said Allison. ‘He thinks she’s cruel but agrees with her political views.’
‘Well my mom says she is one of the most stuck up Pure-blood supremacists there are, my mom is constantly disgusted by the legislations she tries to introduce,’ said Tracey.
'Why is someone who works for Fudge here then?' asked Theodore.
'Dunno...'
Theodore scanned the staff table, clearly trying to figure something out in his head.
'Oh no,' he muttered, 'no no no no no...'
Harry did not understand what he was talking about but did not ask; his attention had just been caught by Professor Grubbly-Plank who had just appeared behind the staff table; she worked her way along to the very end and took the seat that ought to have been Hagrid’s. That meant that the first years must have crossed the lake and reached the castle, and sure enough, a few seconds later, the doors from the entrance hall opened. A long line of scared-looking first years entered, led by Professor McGonagall, who was carrying a stool on which sat an ancient wizard’s hat, heavily patched and darned with a wide rip near the frayed brim.
The buzz of talk in the Great Hall faded away. The first years lined up in front of the staff table facing the rest of the students, and Professor McGonagall placed the stool carefully in front of them, then stood back.
The first years’ faces glowed palely in the candlelight. A small boy right in the middle of the row looked as though he was trembling. Harry recalled, fleetingly, how terrified he had felt when he had stood there, waiting for the unknown test that would determine to which House he belonged.
The whole school waited with bated breath. Then the rip near the hat’s brim opened wide like a mouth and the Sorting Hat burst into song:
'In times of old when I was new
And Hogwarts barely started
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted:
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning,
To make the world’s best magic school
And pass along their learning.
“Together we will build and teach!”
The four good friends decided
And never did they dream that they
Might someday be divided,
For were there such friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffndor?
Unless it was the second pair
Of Huffepuff and Ravenclaw?
So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why, I was there and so can tell
The whole sad, sorry tale.
Said Slytherin, “We’ll teach just those
Whose ancestry is purest.”
Said Ravenclaw, “We’ll teach those whose
Intelligence is surest.”
Said Gryffindor, “We’ll teach all those
With brave deeds to their name,”
Said Hufflepujf, “I’ll teach the lot,
And treat them just the same.”
These differences caused little strife
When first they came to light,
For each of the four founders had
A House in which they might
Take only those they wanted, so,
For instance, Slytherin
Took only pure-blood wizards
Of great cunning, just like him,
And only those of sharpest mind
Were taught by Ravenclaw
While the bravest and the boldest
Went to daring Gryffindor.
Good Hufflepujf she took the rest,
And taught them all she knew,
Thus the Houses and their founders
Retained friendships firm and true.
So Hogwarts worked in harmony
For several happy years,
But then discord crept among us
Feeding on our faults and fears.
The Houses that, like pillars four,
Had once held up our school,
Now turned upon each other and,
Divided, sought to rule.
And for a while it seemed the school
Must meet an early end,
What with dueling and with fighting
And the clash of friend on friend
And at last there came a morning
When old Slytherin departed
And though the fighting then died out
He left us quite downhearted.
And never since the founders four
Were whittled down to three
Have the Houses been united
As they once were meant to be.
And now the Sorting Hat is here
And you all know the score:
I sort you into Houses
Because that is what I’m for,
But this year I’ll go further,
Listen closely to my song:
Though condemned I am to split you
Still I worry that it’s wrong,
Though I must fulfill my duty
And must quarter every year
Still I wonder whether sorting
May not bring the end I fear.
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes
And we must unite inside her
Or we’ll crumble from within.
I have told you, I have warned you. . . .
Let the Sorting now begin.'
The hat became motionless once more; applause broke out, though it was punctured, for the first time in Harry’s memory, with muttering and whispers. All across the Great Hall students were exchanging remarks with their neighbors and Harry, clapping along with everyone else, knew exactly what they were talking about.
'That was...defiantly different than most years,' said Allison, looking a little confused.
'That defiantly wasn't the song it song for my first year,' said Harry.
The Sorting Hat usually confined itself to describing the different qualities looked for by each of the four Hogwarts Houses and its own role in sorting them; Harry could not remember it ever trying to give the school advice before.
'Do you think it has ever sung anything like this before?' said Theodore, sounding slightly anxious.
'I believe it has,' said a ghost that had been passing by. Duncan Ashe was a Slytherin ghost who normally spent his time pulling pranks in the highest parts of the castle, but also would appear when there were large gatherings of Slytherins. 'My older brother had been attending this school in the late sixties when the Dark Lord rose to power, he had written telling me about the song that was sung. Other ghosts have mentioned it sung another warning song in the thirties when Grindelwald was—'
But Professor McGonagall, who was waiting to read out the list of first years’ names, was giving the whispering students the sort of look that scorches. Duncan flew to the ceiling to get a better view, after a moment the muttering in the hall came to an abrupt end. With a last frowning look that swept the four House tables, Professor McGonagall lowered her eyes to her long piece of parchment and called out the first name.
‘Abercrombie, Euan.’
The terrified-looking boy Harry had noticed earlier stumbled forward and put the hat on his head; it was only prevented from falling right down to his shoulders by his very prominent ears. The hat considered for a moment, then the rip near the brim opened again and shouted,
‘GRYFFINDOR!’
The Gryffindor House roared with applause, welcoming their first new member. Harry and the Slytherin house matched this enthusiasm when Dedworth, Simon became the first to join them. Harry then fell into a sort of rhythm as long line of first years were slowly sorted, clapping whenever he heard the hat say Slytherin.
He registered Padgett, Penelope becoming a Slytherin, Reynolds, Maisy a Ravenclaw, and the very final name was Zeller, Rose who was sorted into Hufflepuff followed by Professor McGonagall picking up the hat and stool and marched them away as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet.
Harry was somehow soothed to see Dumbledore standing before them all, whatever his recent bitter feelings toward his headmaster. Between the absence of Hagrid, the presence of those dragonish horses, and the presence of Umbridge he had felt that his return to Hogwarts, so long anticipated, was full of unexpected surprises like jarring notes in a familiar song. But this, at least, was how it was supposed to be: their headmaster rising to greet them all before the start-of-term feast.
‘To our newcomers,’ said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, ‘welcome! To our old hands—welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!’
There was an appreciative laugh and an outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate—for food had appeared out of nowhere, so that the five long tables were groaning under joints and pies and dishes of vegetables, bread, sauces, and flagons of pumpkin juice.
‘This is great!’ said Allison, with a kind of groan of longing, and she seized the nearest bowl of mashed potatoes and began piling them onto her plate. Soon Duncan Ashe came down from where he had been watching.
‘Duncan?’ asked Theodore, ‘Why would the Sorting Hat sing a warning instead of a welcome song?’
‘I haven’t been a Hogwarts ghost as long as some here, but from what I’m told in times of hardship or darkness the hat will often tell the students to stay strong and work together as a school instead of individual houses.’
‘It’s just a hat though,’ said Tracey, ‘how could it know that the school might be in danger.’
‘Not sure,’ said Duncan. ‘It’s kept in Dumbledore’s office though so that might be a factor.’
'And it wants all the Houses to be friends?' said Harry, looking over all the students who had been whispering behind his back since he got on the train, including his fellow Slytherins. 'Fat chance.'
‘As hard as it may seem, cooperation is better than discord. I didn’t quite learn that in life, so try to figure that out while you still have yours,’ and with that Duncan flew away, leaving the group in silence.
Wanting to break the silence, Harry started up a new conversation. ‘So how were your summers, Allison and Terence?’
‘Well I spent most of my summer trying to come up with new strategies for this years Quidditch season, as well as making plans for this year’s tryouts which I’ll be hosting tomorrow,’ explained Terence. ‘Oh, and I also came up with a training regiment to get us back in shape as it’s been over a year since we’ve played as a team.’
‘I forgot Lucian graduated, we’ll need a new Beater,’ said Allison.
‘Along with a new Chaser and Keeper.’
‘Well, my summer was mostly uneventful, I mostly spent it looking after my mother,’ said Allison.
‘She’s still not doing well?’ Harry asked very sympathetically, Allison’s mom had been sick with an unknown illness for over a year now. ‘Do they at least know what’s wrong?’
‘No, but they plan on doing another round of tests at St Mungo's Hospital in December so hopefully they'll figure out what's wrong then.‘ To Harry’s surprise Allison then cracked a smile. ‘I did have some fun with her though, last week she was strong enough to travel so we went somewhere with no muggles and I spent the day showing her my broom skills and she really seemed to enjoy watching.’
‘That’s good to hear,’ said Harry, ‘did you get to show your father too?’
Her face became more stoic once more, ‘No, he was busy.’
Harry spent the rest of his time eating his way steadily through his steak-and-kidney pie, then a large plateful of his favorite treacle tart.
When all the students had finished eating and the noise level in the hall was starting to creep upward again, Dumbledore got to his feet once more. Talking ceased immediately as all turned to face the headmaster. Harry was feeling pleasantly drowsy now. His four-poster bed was waiting somewhere below, wonderfully warm and soft...
‘Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices,’ said Dumbledore. ‘First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students—and a few of our older students ought to know by now too.’ (Harry, Tracey, Allison, and Theodore exchanged smirks.)
‘Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr Filch’s office door. We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.’
There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause during which Harry, Theodore, Allison, and Tracey exchanged slightly panicked looks; Dumbledore had not said for how long Grubbly-Plank would be teaching.
Dumbledore continued, ‘Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place—‘
He broke off, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge said, ‘Hem, hem,’ and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.
Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat back down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout’s eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair, and Professor McGonagall’s mouth was as thin as Harry had ever seen it. No new teacher had ever interrupted Dumbledore before. Many of the students were smirking; this woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts.
‘Thank you, Headmaster,’ Professor Umbridge simpered, ‘for those kind words of welcome.’
Her voice was high-pitched, breathy, and little-girlish and again, Harry felt a powerful rush of dislike that he could not explain to himself; all he knew was that he loathed everything about her, from her stupid voice to her fluffy pink cardigan. She gave another little throat-clearing cough (‘Hem, hem’) and continued:
‘Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!’ She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. ‘And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!’
Harry glanced around. None of the faces he could see looked happy; on the contrary, they all looked rather taken aback at being addressed as though they were five years old.
‘I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I’m sure we’ll be very good friends!’
Students exchanged looks at this; some of them were barely concealing grins.
‘Does this woman even know we’re mostly teenagers?’ Harry overheard Daphne Greengrass whisper to Millicent Bulstrode.
Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again (‘Hem, hem’), but when she continued, some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She sounded much more businesslike and now her words had a dull learned-by-heart sound to them.
‘The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching.’
Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back. Professor McGonagall’s dark eyebrows had contracted so that she looked positively hawklike, and Harry distinctly saw her exchange a significant glance with Professor Sprout as Umbridge gave another little ‘Hem, hem’ and went on with her speech.
‘Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress’s sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation...’
Harry found his attentiveness ebbing, as though his brain was slipping in and out of tune. The quiet that always filled the Hall when Dumbledore was speaking was breaking up as students put their heads together, whispering and giggling. Over at the Ravenclaw table, Cho Chang was chatting animatedly with her friends. A few seats along from Cho, Luna Lovegood had got out The Quibbler again. Meanwhile at the Hufflepuff table, Ernie Macmillan was one of the few still staring at Professor Umbridge, but he was glassy-eyed and Harry was sure he was only pretending to listen in an attempt to live up to the new prefect’s badge gleaming on his chest.
Professor Umbridge did not seem to notice the restlessness of her audience. Harry had the impression that a full-scale riot could have broken out under her nose and she would have plowed on with her speech. The teachers, however, were still listening very attentively, and Theodore seemed to be drinking in every word Umbridge spoke, though judging by his expression, they were not at all to his taste.
‘...because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.’
She sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though Harry noticed that several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping. A few students joined in, but most had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they could start applauding properly, Dumbledore had stood up again.
‘Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating,’ he said, bowing to her. ‘Now—as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held...’
'Well my fears just came true,' said Theodore in a low voice.
'What?' asked Harry, 'that we're going to have another bad DADA's teacher, I'm almost used to that at this point.'
'No,' said Theodore. 'Did you even listen to her speech, she was talking about changing and removing practices of Hogwarts. I think Fudge sent her to take as much control of the school as possible.'
There was a great clattering and banging all around them; Dumbledore had obviously just dismissed the school, because everyone was standing up ready to leave the Hall.
A group of new students walked shyly up the gap between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables, all of them trying hard not to lead the group. Harry often felt like his Sorting wasn’t that long ago, but looking at these first years he realized how far he had come since then.
He grinned at the new first years as they passed by him. The first Slytherin that had been sorted, Simon Dedworth, looked terrified, but Harry gave him a friendly wave and that seemed to boost his confidence and he walked with the rest of his group.
After the first years had left Harry and the gang started making there way out, though Theodore stayed behind to chat with Colin a bit longer. As Harry headed for the door to the entrance hall he had to do everything he could to ignore more whispering, staring, and pointing as he passed. He kept his eyes fixed ahead as he wove his way through the crowd in the entrance hall, then he hurried down the stone staircase, took a couple of concealed short-cuts, and had soon left most of the crowds behind.
He had been stupid not to expect this, he thought angrily, as he walked through much emptier downstairs corridors. Of course everyone was staring at him: He had emerged from the Triwizard maze two months ago clutching the dead body of a fellow student and claiming to have seen Lord Voldemort return to power. There had not been time last term to explain himself before everyone went home, even if he had felt up to giving the whole school a detailed account of the terrible events in that graveyard.
He and the others had reached the end of the corridor to the Slytherin common room and had come to a halt in front of the enchanted wall before he realized that he did not know the new password.
‘Er...’ he said glumly, looking at the others, ‘do any of you know the password?’
Allison stepped forward, ‘I asked Daphne who asked Draco, the password is skotádi.’
Once the word left her lips they were able to go through the wall as though it weren’t even there.
The Slytherin common room was filled with more chatter than normal, though that chatter turned to whispers once Harry entered. The a long, low underground room with round greenish lamps hanging on chains and an elaborately carved mantelpiece had a cracking fire within it. Both in front of the fireplace and throughout the room were carved stone chairs for them to sit in, and in the back there were two archways with stairs going up towards the dormitories, and two doors which lead to the boys and girls bathrooms.
After a long day and a filling meal Harry found himself exhausted and was not in much of a mood for talking at the moment so he wished Terence, Allison, and Tracey goodnight and went up to his dormitory.
Blaise Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle, along with Draco Malfoy had reached the dormitory first and were setting up their personal belongings. Although Harry didn’t really get along with anyone from his dormitory besides Theodore, they had all long since come to a silent agreement that they don’t normally talk to each other once they’re at the dormitory. This silent agreement clearly had been broken.
‘Well if it isn’t the boy who lived, or was it the boy who lied?’ taunted Blaise.
‘I don’t really care,’ Harry lied while setting his own stuff up around his bed. ‘I just wanted to go to school like the rest of you.’
‘I don’t know, my mother is an actress, so I think I know a drama queen when I see one, ‘continued Blaise. ‘Your talk that You Know Who is back is just meant to stir up drama and make you look good. It backfired though, the only people who believe you is our senile Headmaster who isn’t even a Wizengamot or apart of the International Confederation of Wizards anymore.’
Harry was to tired for this, ‘Ask Crabbe and Goyle if Voldemort is back, their fathers witnessed his return first hand.’
This made the two goons angry, they got to their feet, fists clenched.
‘That’s enough!’ said Draco from his bed. ‘It’s been a long day, and I can’t sleep if you’re at each other’s throats.’
‘You aren’t the boss of us Malfoy,’ hissed Zabini.
‘I’m Prefect now, so actually I am. Quiet down or you’ll be getting detention before classes even start.’
Blaise looked for a few seconds as though detention would be a reasonable price to pay to say what was going through his mind; but with a noise of contempt he turned on his heel, vaulted into bed, and pulled the hangings shut with such violence that they were ripped from the bed and fell in a dusty pile to the floor. Draco cocked an eyebrow at Crabbe and Goyle and they quickly followed in Blaise’s footsteps.
Harry finished setting up, then got ready for bed. That confrontation was worrisome, usually any confrontations between Blaise’s gang and Harry were outside their shared living space, but if that was no longer the case than even going to bed at night wasn’t risk free.
He felt shaken by the argument with Seamus, whom he had always liked very much.
The day itself hadn’t been that great. How many more people were going to suggest that he was lying or unhinged?
Had Dumbledore suffered like this all summer, as first the Wizengamot, then the International Confederation of Wizards had thrown him from their ranks? Was it anger at Harry, perhaps, that had stopped Dumbledore getting in touch with him for months? The two of them were in this together, after all; Dumbledore had believed Harry, announced his version of events to the whole school and then to the wider Wizarding community.
Anyone who thought Harry was a liar had to think that Dumbledore was too or else that Dumbledore had been hoodwinked...
They’ll know we’re right in the end, thought Harry miserably, as Theodore got into bed and extinguished the last candle in the dormitory. But he wondered how many more confrontations he would have to endure before that time came.
List of letters we have gone through: A
"Inspiration is always there if you force yourself to be creative." --An anonymous smart person
(Bellatrix Lestrange, Blaise Zabini and Bathilda Bagshot walk into a bar.
Bellatrix orders a burger, Blaise a butterbeer and Bathilda a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.)
Bartender: (confused) we don't serve burgers here, ma'am. Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?
Bellatrix: (enraged) THIS IS NOT A JOKE YOU BLUSTERING B-LIST BOWTRUCKLE! Bring me my burger right now or I'll dec*p*tate you like a Bludger!
Bartender: Fine. And would you like fries with that?
(The three gets their food and leave.)
Bartender: (looks up angrily) Avi! If you don't give me a normal client next time I'll slip Veritaserum in your soda and make you confess your Hetalia character crush!
Me: Chill, dude. I'm still thinking up a punchline.
(The Bloody Baron walks through a bar)
In case you were wondering, that was my mediocre punchline.
Pings: @UnicornWannabe @AstroCat56 @Rosée666 @PotterHead2010G @Longs160.320 @LunaLumaLuna @LunaTrollpacka @MichiFan934 @Heli aesthetics @Kylie Hiwatari @Janson and Moriarty lover @Second British Hong Kong Ball @LoveSongTwins @Rossesta73
Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003585181
Chapter 2: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003585386
Chapter 3: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003589099
Chapter 4: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003589999
Chapter 5: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003590737
Chapter 6: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003592048
Chapter 7: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003593450
Chapter 8: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003594715
Chapter 9: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003595876
Chapter 10: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003596713
Chapter 11: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003597502
Chapter 12: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003598647
Chapter 13: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003600597
Chapter 14: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003602821
Chapter 15: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003605031
Chapter 16: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003605690
Chapter 17: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003607525
Chapter 18: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003607955
Chapter 19: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003608845
Chapter 20: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003609937
Tags: @MeowTasticCat @Bellatrisblack @Diantha Angelina Black @CatsAndRoblox @Kakaonut @Potatopanda2121
Chapter Twenty-One: Rita Skeeter’s Scoop
Nearly everybody got up late on Boxing Day. The Slytherin common room was much quieter than it had been lately, many yawns punctuating the lazy conversations.
Allison and the others who had signed up for the Boxing Day train were gone before Harry had even woken up, which was to bad because Harry thought he’d need some back up dealing with the Tracey and Terence situation.
When he got up to breakfast however he was pleasantly surprised to see they weren’t at each other’s throats. He soon inferred that Tracey and Terence had reached an unspoken agreement not to discuss what had happened the night before. The actual awkwardness as it turned out came from Theodore and Colin, who seemed to not quite know how to interact with each other normally anymore, tripping over everything each said or did.
Terence and Harry wasted no time in telling the others about the conversation they had overheard between Snape and Karkaroff as well as Madame Maxime and Hagrid. No one was really surprised when hearing the confirmation that Hagrid was a half-giant.
‘The man it over eleven feet tall,’ said Theodore in a matter-of-fact tone, ‘I’d be more surprised if you told me he was fully human.’
It was time now to think of the homework they had neglected during the first week of the holidays. Everybody seemed to be feeling rather relaxed or at least apathetic now that Christmas was over—everybody except Harry, that is, who was starting (once again) to feel slightly nervous.
The trouble was that February the twenty-fourth looked a lot closer from this side of Christmas, and he still hadn’t done anything about working out the clue inside the golden egg. He therefore started taking the egg out of his trunk every time he went up to the dormitory, opening it, and listening intently, hoping that this time it would make some sense. He strained to think what the sound reminded him of, apart from thirty musical saws, but he had never heard anything else like it. He closed the egg, shook it vigorously, and opened it again to see if the sound had changed, but it hadn’t. He tried asking the egg questions, shouting over all the wailing, but nothing happened. He even threw the egg across the room—though he hadn’t really expected that to help.
Harry had not forgotten the hint that Cedric had given him, but his less-than-friendly feelings toward Cedric just now meant that he was keen not to take his help if he could avoid it. In any case, it seemed to him that if Cedric had really wanted to give Harry a hand, he would have been a lot more explicit. Harry, had told Cedric exactly what was coming in the first task—and Cedric’s idea of a fair exchange had been to tell Harry to take a bath. Well, he didn’t need that sort of rubbishy help—not from someone who kept walking down corridors hand in hand with Cho, anyway.
The day before start of winter term the hogwarts train returned with all the students who had left both at the start of break and on Boxing Day. Harry had been studying enchanted eggs in the library when Tracey looked up and her jaw dropped, ‘Alli?’
Harry looked around to welcome Allison back when his jaw dropped as well. Allison apparently took the time off to get a fresh look as her shoulder length straight black hair had been cut into a very short bob style with a pink headband, and along with the three silver piercings she already had in her ears, she now had a small stud on her left nostril.
‘Alli, you look great!’ said Tracey.
‘Thanks, I really needed a new look.’
‘How is your mother?’ Harry asked.
‘Still sick, but her mood was lifted by me wearing her old wedding dress to the Yule Ball and then coming home for a week, so that was at least something.’
And so the first day of the new term arrived, and Harry set off to lessons, weighed down with books, parchment, and quills as usual, but also with the lurking worry of the egg heavy in his stomach, as though he were carrying that around with him too.
Snow was still thick upon the grounds, and the greenhouse windows were covered in condensation so thick that they couldn’t see into them as they walked past. Nobody was looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures much in this weather, although Allison had jokingly said the skrewts blasts will keep them warm.
When they arrived at Hagrid’s cabin, however, they found an elderly witch with closely cropped gray hair and a very prominent chin standing before his front door.
‘Hurry up, now, the bell rang five minutes ago,’ she barked at them as they struggled toward her through the snow.
‘Are you a sub?’ Theodore asked, ‘Is Hagrid sick?’
‘My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank,’ she said briskly. ‘I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher.’
‘Where’s Hagrid?’ Harry repeated loudly.
‘He is indisposed,’ said Professor Grubbly-Plank shortly.
Soft and unpleasant laughter reached Harry’s ears. He turned; Pansy Parkinson and the rest of her gang had joined the class. All of them looked gleeful, and none of them looked surprised to see Professor Grubbly-Plank.
'This way, please,' said Professor Grubbly-Plank, and she strode off around the paddock where the Beauxbatons horses were shivering. Harry, Theodore, Allison, and Tracey followed her, looking back over their shoulders at Hagrid’s cabin. All the curtains were closed. Was Hagrid in there, alone and ill?
'You didn't answer my friends question, is Hagrid sick?' Harry asked, hurrying to catch up with Professor Grubbly-Plank.
'Never you mind,' she said as though she thought he was being nosy.
'I do mind, though, he's my friend,' said Harry hotly. 'What’s wrong with him?'
Professor Grubbly-Plank acted as though she couldn’t hear him. She led them past the paddock where the huge Beauxbatons horses were standing, huddled against the cold, and toward a tree on the edge of the forest, where a large and beautiful unicorn was tethered.
Many of the girls 'ooooohed!' at the sight of the unicorn.
'It is absolutely stunning,' whispered Hermione Granger. 'I've never seen one up close? Did you barrow one from the Unicorn Parkinson Prosperity or did you manage to catch one?'
The unicorn was so brightly white it made the snow all around look gray. It was pawing the ground nervously with its golden hooves and throwing back its horned head.
'Boys keep back!' barked Professor Grubbly-Plank, throwing out an arm and catching Harry hard in the chest. 'They prefer the woman’s touch, unicorns. Girls to the front, and approach with care, come on, easy does it...'
She and the girls walked slowly forward toward the unicorn, leaving the boys standing near the paddock fence, watching. The moment Professor Grubbly-Plank was out of earshot, Harry turned to Theodore.
'What d’you reckon’s wrong with him? You don’t think a skrewt got him? They are part manticore and their stings are—?'
Harry couldn't quite finish, his adoptive grandfather Lyall Lupin had died from a manticore still nearly two years ago, and it still hurt to think about sometimes. He was distracted from his thoughts by Blaise Zabini.
'Hagrid hasn't been stung, Potter, though I'd like to see what would happen if he was,' said Zabini softly. 'No, he’s has just been humiliated and too cowardous to show his monstrous face.'
'What d’you mean?' said Harry sharply.
Zabini pulled out a folded newsprint from the pocket of his robes.
'If you started reading more thoroughly you might not be left in the dark all the time,' he said, handing Harry the paper. 'Its all rather comedic if you as me.'
He smirked as Harry snatched the page, unfolded it, and read it, with Theodore, Ron, and Neville looking over his shoulder. It was an article topped with a picture of Hagrid looking extremely shifty.
"DUMBLEDORE’S GIANT MISTAKE
Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Last year he hired werewolf Remus Lupin to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, in September of this year, he hired Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to take Lupin's place, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody’s well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Remus Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures.
Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates.
An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being 'very frightening.'
'I was clawed at by a hippogriff,' says Draco Malfoy, a fourth-year student.
'I got a bad bite off a flobberworm,' claimed Vincent Crabbe.
'His new abominations have exploded in my face multiple times,' said Pansy Parkinson, a girl in the same year as Malfoy. 'Hagrid is dangerous be we have been to terrified to speak out about him.'
Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however. In conversation with a Daily Prophet reporter last month, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed 'Blast-Ended Skrewts,' highly dangerous crosses between manticores and fire-crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creature is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, however, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions.
'It was quite fun,' he says, before hastily changing the subject.
As if this were not enough, the Daily Prophet has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not—as he has always pretended—a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown.
Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring amongst themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and were responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle killings of his reign of terror. While many of the giants who served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark Side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Fridwulfa’s son appears to have inherited her brutal nature.
In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought around You-Know-Who’s fall from power—thereby driving Hagrid’s own mother, like the rest of You-Know-Who’s supporters, into hiding. Perhaps Harry Potter is unaware of the unpleasant truth about his large friend—but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Harry Potter, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants."
Harry finished reading and looked up at Theodore, who looked in shock from the amount of combined facts and lies the Prophet had combined. For a brief moment Harry wondered if Terence had blabbered about what he heard, but quickly dismissed that idea as he trusted his friend.
'Where did they get all this information?' he whispered.
But that wasn’t what was bothering Harry.
'What d’you mean, ‘we have been terrified of Hagrid’?' Harry spat at Blaise.
'What’s this rubbish about'—he pointed at Crabbe—'getting a bad bite off a flobberworm? They haven’t even got teeth!'
Crabbe was sniggering, apparently very pleased with himself.
'It is past time we have teachers that are actually our kind, not monsters or half-breeds,' said Zabini, his dark eyes glinting. 'My mother will not be happy when she reads this, as I assume most proper wizarding families will be. Yet another teacher endangering their kids.'
'You—'
'Are you paying attention over there?'
Professor Grubbly-Plank’s voice carried over to the boys; the girls were all clustered around the unicorn now, stroking it. Harry was so angry that the Daily Prophet article shook in his hands as he turned to stare unseeingly at the unicorn, whose many magical properties Professor Grubbly-Plank was now enumerating in a loud voice, so that the boys could hear too.
'That was a far better lesson than I would normally get in that class,' said Pansy loudly when the lesson had ended and they were all heading back to the castle for lunch. 'Dealing with proper creatures and proper teachers.'
'Pansy, you have gotten to see multiple unicorns every summer for three years, do you ever get bored of typical magical creatures?'
'Perhaps, but anything is better than Hagrid teaching the class. I preferred him as a mere servant.'
Harry wished he could get some back up from the girls as they often had better come backs for Pansy, but Allison was too busy talking to Tracey about her upcoming date in Hogsmeade.
Once in the Great Hall Harry quickly tracked Terence down and showed him the article, 'Dia ár sábháil, how did they find out? Do you think Madam Maxime tipped the Prophet off as revenge?'
'I don't think she was that bitter, someone must have found off another way.'
'Do you think it was that bloody Skeeter woman?' Terence asked.
'The article was uncredited, it did sound like her but I don't see how she could have gotten her quotes and information, Hagrid mentioned she's banned from the grounds.'
Theodore than chipped in, 'Maybe she has an invisibility cloak, they are rare but someone like her might be able to afford one.'
'That's an idea,' said Harry, ladling chicken casserole onto his plate and splashing it everywhere in his anger. 'Sort of thing she’d do, isn’t it, hide in bushes listening to people. Although Hagrid should have never been talking about his giantess mother in the garden multiple people were in.'
Harry paused his Giant talk for a moment as Colin had sat down next to Theodore and didn't feeling like re-explaining everything that had happened, instead he worded his conclusion carefully, 'I going to see him after charms. Tell him we want him back...some of you should come to show your support.' The last part he said a little louder so Tracey and Allison would hear.
'What?' they said in unison as they hadn't heard any of the previous discussion.
'We're going to Hagrid's after dinner, you two in?'
'Sure, sounds fun.'
So that evening after dinner, the four of them plus Terence left the castle once more and went down through the frozen grounds to Hagrid’s cabin. They knocked, and Fang’s booming barks answered.
'Hagrid, it’s us!' Harry shouted, pounding on the door. 'Open up!'
Hagrid didn’t answer. They could hear Fang scratching at the door, whining, but it didn’t open. They hammered on it for ten more minutes; Allison even went and banged on one of the windows, but there was no response.
'Why won't he see us?' Tracey said when they had finally given up and were walking back to the school. 'We're the ones trying to help and support him.'
But it seemed that Hagrid did not wish to be seen. They didn’t see a sign of him all week. He didn’t appear at the staff table at mealtimes, they didn’t see him going about his gamekeeper duties on the grounds, and Professor Grubbly-Plank continued to take the Care of Magical Creatures classes. Pansy was gloating at every possible opportunity.
'Do you all really miss that oaf?' she kept chuckling at Harry whenever there was a teacher around, so that she was safe from Harry’s retaliation. 'You must feel home sick not having a beast around at all times.'
The Hogsmeade visit had arrived and Harry had decided to join Allison, Tracey, and Urquhart, to Theodore's surprise.
'Wouldn't you rather be like me and take advantage of the less crowded Hogwarts to study? Its just over a month until the next task and the egg isn't going to solve itself.'
'Oh I—I reckon I’ve got a pretty good idea what it’s about now,' Harry lied.
'You have?' said Theodore, looking suspicious. 'Okay than...'
Harry’s insides gave a guilty squirm, but he ignored them. He still had five weeks to work out that egg clue, after all, and that was ages...whereas if he went into Hogsmeade, he might run into Hagrid, and get a chance to persuade him to come back.
He, Allison, Tracey and her date left the castle together on Saturday and set off through the cold, wet grounds toward the gates. As they passed the Durmstrang ship moored in the lake, they saw Viktor Krum emerge onto the deck, dressed in nothing but swimming trunks. He was very skinny indeed, but apparently a lot tougher than he looked, because he climbed up onto the side of the ship, stretched out his arms, and dived, right into the lake.
'He’s mad!' said Harry, staring at Krum’s dark head as it bobbed out into the middle of the lake. 'It must be freezing, it’s January!'
'It might be colder in Bulgaria, and I know its colder in Svalbard,' said Allison, 'this cold must not be as bad to him.'
'Well,' said Tracey half distracted, 'I just hope someone has warned him about the giant squid.'
Harry kept his eyes skinned for a sign of Hagrid all the way down the slushy High Street, it was just him and Allison searching now as Tracey and Urquhart had gone off to the Cafe for their date. Harry eventually suggested a visit to the Three Broomsticks once he had ascertained that Hagrid was not in any of the shops. The pub was as crowded as ever, but one quick look around at all the tables told Harry that Hagrid wasn’t there. Heart sinking, he went up to the bar with Allison, ordered three butter-beers from Madam Rosmerta, and thought gloomily that he might just as well have stayed behind and listened to the egg wailing after all.
'What is he doing here?' Allison whispered in an annoyed tone. 'Look over there!'
She pointed into the mirror behind the bar, and Harry saw Ludo Bagman reflected there, sitting in a shadowy corner with a bunch of goblins. Bagman was talking very fast in a low voice to the goblins, all of whom had their arms crossed and were looking rather menacing.
It was indeed odd, Harry thought, that Bagman was here at the Three Broomsticks on a weekend when there was no Triwizard event, and therefore no judging to be done. He watched Bagman in the mirror. He was looking strained again, quite as strained as he had that night in the forest before the Dark Mark had appeared. But just then Bagman glanced over at the bar, saw Harry, and stood up.
'In a moment, in a moment!' Harry heard him say brusquely to the goblins, and Bagman hurried through the pub toward Harry, his boyish grin back in place. 'Harry! How are you? Been hoping to run into you! Everything going all right?'
'Fine, thanks,' said Harry, although he would rather be talking to Pansy Parkinson at the moment than Bagman.
'Wonder if I could have a quick, private word, Harry?' said Bagman eagerly. 'You couldn’t give us a moment, miss, could you?'
'Um—I guess?' said Allison, and she went off to find a table.
Bagman led Harry along the bar to the end furthest from Madam Rosmerta.
'Well, I just thought I’d congratulate you once again on your splendid performance against that Horntail, Harry,' said Bagman. 'Really superb.'
'Thanks,' said Harry, but he knew this couldn’t be all that Bagman wanted to say, because he could have congratulated Harry in front of Allison or the barmaid. Bagman didn’t seem in any particular rush to spill the beans, though. Harry saw him glance into the mirror over the bar at the goblins, who were all watching him and Harry in silence through their dark, slanting eyes.
'Absolute nightmare,' said Bagman to Harry in an undertone, noticing Harry watching the goblins too. 'Their English isn’t too good...translations spells don't work so well on non-human languages. This lot keep gabbling in Gobbledegook...and I only know one word of Gobbledegook. Bladvak. It means ‘pickax.’ I don’t like to use it in case they think I’m threatening them.'
He gave a short, booming laugh, but Harry could help hear a little hesitation in said laugh.
'What do they want?' Harry said, noticing how the goblins were still watching Bagman very closely.
'Er—well...' said Bagman, looking suddenly nervous. 'They...er...they’re looking for Barry Crouch.'
'Why are they looking for him here?' said Harry. 'He’s at the Ministry in London, isn’t he?'
'Er...as a matter of fact, I’ve no idea where he is,' said Bagman. 'He’s sort of...stopped coming to work. Been absent for a couple of weeks now. Young Percy, his assistant, says he’s ill. Apparently he’s just been sending instructions in by owl. But would you mind not mentioning that to anyone, Harry? Because Rita Skeeter’s still poking around everywhere she can, and I’m willing to bet she’d work up Barty’s illness into something sinister. Probably say he’s gone missing like Bertha Jorkins.'
'Have they finally found her, Ms Jorkins I mean?' Harry asked.
'No,' said Bagman, looking strained again. 'I’ve got people looking, of course...' (About time, thought Harry) 'and it’s all very strange. She definitely arrived in Albania, because she met her second cousin there. And then she left the cousin’s house to go south and see an aunt...and she seems to have vanished without trace en route. Blowed if I can see where she’s got to...she doesn’t seem the type to elope, for instance...but still...What are we doing, talking about goblins and Bertha Jorkins? I really wanted to ask you'—he lowered his voice—'how are you getting on with your golden egg?'
'Sir I said at Christmas I didn't want to talk about it, but I am, er...doing not bad,' Harry said untruthfully.
Bagman seemed to know he wasn’t being honest.
'Listen, Harry,' he said (still in a very low voice), ‘I feel very bad about what has happened to you...you were thrown into this dangerous tournament, you didn’t volunteer for it...and if...’ (his voice was so quiet now, Harry had to lean closer to listen) ‘if I can help at all...just a small tip in the right direction...I’ve taken a liking to you...the way you got past that dragon...well, just say the word.’
Harry just stared up into Bagman’s round face and blue eyes with astonishment, he wasn’t sure how many times he could tell this man no.
‘Mr Bagman, I really do appreciate your willingness to help, but we’re supposed to figure this clue out on our own. I’ve already got dozens of people thinking I’m a cheat, I don’t want to give them any reason to think they were right,’ he said this all very carefully to keep his voice casual and not sound as though he was accusing the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports of breaking the rules.
‘Well...well, yes,’ said Bagman impatiently, ‘but—come on, Harry—we all want a Hogwarts victory, don’t we?’
'Have you offered Cedric help?' Harry asked.
The smallest of frowns creased Bagman’s smooth face.
‘No, I haven’t,’ he said. ‘I—well, like I say, I’ve taken a liking to you. Just thought I’d offer...’
‘Well, thanks,’ said Harry, ‘but I think I’m nearly there with the egg...couple more days should crack it.’
A small part of him wondered why he was refusing Bagman’s help, except that Bagman was almost a stranger to him, and accepting his assistance would feel somehow much more like cheating than asking advice from his friends, Hagrid, or his family. It didn’t help that Tracey’s suspicions of Bagman still rang in his head.
Bagman looked almost affronted, but couldn’t say much more as Fred and George Weasley turned up at that point.
‘Hello, Mr. Bagman,’ said Fred brightly. ‘Can we buy you a drink?’
‘Er...no,’ said Bagman, with a last disappointed glance at Harry, ‘no, thank you, boys...’
Fred and George looked quite as disappointed as Bagman, who was surveying Harry as though he had let him down badly.
‘Well, I must dash,’ he said. ‘Nice seeing you all. Good luck, Harry.’
He hurried out of the pub. The goblins all slid off their chairs and exited after him. Harry went to rejoin Allison.
‘That looked very awkward, another minute and was going to go over there and rescue you,’ she said, the moment Harry had sat down.
‘He offered to help me with the golden egg again,’ said Harry.
‘I am really starting to agree with Tracey,’ she said a little miffed. ‘He definitely wants you to win for some reason, and is clearly willing to bend the rules to get what he wants. He needn’t bother though, I heard you tell Theo you had solved the clue.’
‘Well...that might have been a slight exaggeration so he’d let me go to Hogsmeade,’ Harry confessed.
One thing that Harry liked about Allison was that she was usually on his side, she didn’t bother him about the egg, instead she changed the topic.
‘Those goblins he was with didn’t look Happy,’ she said, sipping her butterbeer. ‘Why were they hounding him?’
‘Looking for Crouch, according to Bagman,’ said Harry. ‘He’s still ill. Hasn’t been into work.’
‘Maybe his law enforcement day’s are catching up to him, my dad isn’t even flirty yet but some day he looks like he’s fifty, or Moody who looks over seventy but I hear is just over fifty.’
Harry nodded, then circled back to the goblins, ‘It’s odd though that goblins would be looking for Mr Crouch here of all places, wouldn’t his home be a better bet?’
‘Well maybe he’s recovering somewhere more private, or maybe he’s sick of work and actually taking a tropical vacation in secret. Perhaps-oh no!’
Harry looked around to see what had caught Allison’s eye. Rita Skeeter had just entered the pub. She was wearing banana-yellow robes today; her long nails were painted shocking pink, and she was accompanied by her paunchy photographer. She bought drinks, and she and the photographer made their way through the crowds to a table nearby, Harry and Allison glared at her as she approached. She was talking fast and looking very satisfied about something.
‘...didn’t seem very keen to talk to us, did he, Bozo? Now, why would that be, do you think? And what’s he doing with a pack of goblins in tow anyway? Showing them the sights...what non-sense...he was always a bad liar. Reckon something’s up? Think we should do a bit of digging? “Disgraced Ex-Head of Magical Games and Sports, Ludo Bagman...” Snappy start to a sentence, Bozo—we just need to find a story to fit it—‘
‘Trying to ruin someone else’s life?’ said Harry loudly.
A few people looked around. Rita Skeeter’s eyes widened behind her jeweled spectacles as she saw who had spoken.
‘Harry!’ she said, beaming. ‘How lovely! Why don’t you come and join—?’
‘I wouldn’t come near you with a ten-foot broomstick,’ said Harry furiously. ‘What did you do that to Hagrid for, eh?’
Rita Skeeter raised her heavily penciled eyebrows. ‘Our readers have a right to the truth, Harry. I am merely doing my—‘
‘Who cares if he’s half-giant?’ Harry shouted. ‘There’s nothing wrong with him! He is the gentlest soul I know!’
The whole pub had gone very quiet. Madam Rosmerta was staring over from behind the bar, apparently oblivious to the fact that the flagon she was filling with mead was overflowing.
Rita Skeeter’s smile flickered very slightly, but she hitched it back almost at once; she snapped open her crocodile-skin handbag, pulled out her new Quick-Quotes Quill, and said, ‘How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid you know, Harry? The man behind the muscles? Your unlikely friendship and the reasons behind it. Would you call him a father substitute?’
Allison stood up very abruptly, and cracked her knuckles, ‘Oh look, another quill for me to break.’
The quill started shivering and tried floating as far away from Allison’s grasp as possible, Rita Skeeter seemed less phased than her quill.
‘Sit down, you silly little girl, it would be a shame if I had to write a piece on how auror Albert Runcorn was nowhere to be found during the World Cup incident, or that he supposedly doesn’t seem to care that his wife of fifteen years can barely leave her bed. His bosses wouldn’t like that, and he would be upset at the daughter that caused it,’ said Rita Skeeter in a quiet cold voice, her eyes hardening as they fell on Allison. ‘So I’d keep your fat hands off my property and your mouth shut, or you will regret it.’
Instead of getting Allison to calm down, her blue eyes seemed to be lit with icey fire. Harry took her arm and slowly started walking away. ‘Come on Allison, I think it’s best we leave.’
They left; many people were staring at them as they went. Harry glanced back as they reached the door. Rita Skeeter’s Quick-Quotes Quill was zooming backward and forward over a piece of parchment on the table.
‘She might skip your father for now, he’s too powerful, but I’d be shocked if the next piece didn’t involve you in someway, Allison,’ said Harry in a low and worried voice as they walked quickly back up the street.
‘I don’t care,’ said Allison defiantly; she was shaking with rage. 'Story or no story I am going to get my revenge. Silly little girl, my foot! First you, then Hagrid, now my father, she is going to pay!’
‘Allison, I want Rita to suffer as much as you do, but she is not only an adult, but an adult with a lot of influence. Don’t do something you’ll regret.’
‘I am more clever than her, Harry, whatever I decide to do she won’t see coming,’ Allison was now striding along so fast that it was all Harry could do to keep up with her. ‘Oh and we should visit Hagrid now! Rita is in the wrong, not him, so it’s time he stop hiding!’
Breaking into a run, she led them all the way back up the road, through the gates flanked by winged boars, and up through the grounds to Hagrid’s cabin.
The curtains were still drawn, and they could hear Fang barking as they approached.
'Hagrid!' Allison shouted, pounding on his front door. 'Hagrid, it is time to stop hiding, we want you back!’
Harry chimed in, ‘Nobody that cares about has a problem with you being a half-giant, Hagrid! If you keep hiding out in your cabin than you are letting a cruel person win. Please let us in—‘
The door opened. Harry was about to thank Hagrid for finally opening the door, but then stopped, because he had found himself face-to-face, not with Hagrid, but with Albus Dumbledore.
‘Good afternoon,’ he said pleasantly, smiling down at them.
‘We-um-wanted to she Hagrid, is he ok?’ said Harry in a quieter voice than how he had been yelling a moment ago.
‘Yes, I surmised as much,’ said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. ‘Why don’t you come in?’
‘Yes...alright,’ said Allison.
She and Harry went into the cabin; Fang launched himself upon Harry the moment he entered, barking madly and trying to lick his ears. Harry fended off Fang and looked around.
Hagrid was sitting at his table, where there were two large mugs of tea. He looked a real mess. His face was blotchy, his eyes swollen, and he had gone to the other extreme where his hair was concerned; far from trying to make it behave, it now looked like a wig of tangled wire.
‘Hi, Hagrid,’ said Harry.
Hagrid looked up.
‘’Lo,’ he said in a very hoarse voice.
‘More tea, I think,’ said Dumbledore, closing the door behind Harry and Allison, drawing out his wand, and twiddling it; a revolving tea tray appeared in midair along with a plate of cakes. Dumbledore magicked the tray onto the table, and everybody sat down. There was a slight pause, and then Dumbledore said, ‘Did you by any chance hear what Miss Runcorn and Mr Potter were shouting, Hagrid?’
Allison went slightly pink, a rare colour on her, but Dumbledore smiled at her and continued, ‘Allison, Harry, and several other students including Tracey Davis, Ron Weasley, and Terry Boot still seem to want you back. And Harry and his friends still want to get to know you, judging by the way they were attempting to break down the door.’
‘Of course we still want to know you!’ Harry said, staring at Hagrid. ‘You don’t think anything that Skeeter cow—sorry, Professor,’ he added quickly, looking at Dumbledore.
‘I have gone temporarily deaf and haven’t any idea what you said, Harry,’ said Dumbledore, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling.
‘Er—right,’ said Harry sheepishly. ‘I just meant—Hagrid, how could you think we’d care what that—woman—wrote about you?’
Two fat tears leaked out of Hagrid’s beetle-black eyes and fell slowly into his tangled beard.
‘Living proof of what I’ve been telling you, Hagrid,’ said Dumbledore, still looking carefully up at the ceiling. ‘I have shown you the letters from the countless parents who remember you from their own days here, telling me in no uncertain terms that if I sacked you, they would have something to say about it. Charlie Weasley even sent me a howler when he thought I had fired you—‘
‘Not all of ’em,’ said Hagrid hoarsely. ‘Not all of ’em wan’ me ter stay.’
‘Really, Hagrid, if you are holding out for universal popularity, I’m afraid you will be in this cabin for a very long time,’ said Dumbledore, now peering sternly over his half-moon spectacles. ‘Not a week has passed since I became headmaster of this school that I haven’t had at least one owl complaining about the way I run it. But what should I do? Barricade myself in my study and refuse to talk to anybody?’
‘Yeh—yeh’re not half-giant!’ said Hagrid croakily.
‘Hagrid, look what I’ve got for relatives!’ Harry said furiously. ‘My mother’s side is filled with the worst muggles I know, yet neither she or I are anything like them.’
Allison then spoke up, ‘I don’t talk about this often Hagrid, but my grandmother on my mothers side was a squib, one of the lowest member of the wizarding world, but she didn’t let the stigma run her out of the magical world she had come to love. She found work within the magical world, she married a wizard she loved, she didn’t let how she was born dictate her life.’
This was the first time Harry had ever heard this, he knew through Theodore that Allison had a squib ancestor, but he never knew the the story involved.
‘An excellent point,’ said Professor Dumbledore. ‘My own brother, Aberforth, was prosecuted for practicing inappropriate charms on a goat. It was all over the papers, but did Aberforth hide? No, he did not! He held his head high and went about his business as usual! Of course, I’m not entirely sure he can still read, so that may not have been bravery...’
‘Continue to teach, Hagrid,’ Allison begged. ‘It maybe true your lesson are unordinary, but that is what makes them exciting, I am so bored in half my classes because the they are teaching the same way the classes have been taught for a hundred or more years, but every class wth you is an adventure.’
Hagrid gulped. More tears leaked out down his cheeks and into his tangled beard.
Dumbledore stood up. ‘I refuse to accept your resignation, Hagrid, and I expect you back at work on Monday,’ he said. ‘You will join me for breakfast at eight-thirty in the Great Hall. No excuses. Good afternoon to you all.’
Dumbledore left the cabin, pausing only to scratch Fang’s ears. When the door had shut behind him, Hagrid began to sob into his dustbin-lid-sized hands. Harry kept patting his arm, and at last, Hagrid looked up, his eyes very red indeed, and said, ‘Great man, Dumbledore...great man...’
‘He knows that you are equally a great man,’ said Allison.
Hagrid, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. ‘I bin stupid...my ol’ dad woulda bin ashamed o’ the way I’ve bin behavin...’ More tears leaked out, but he wiped them away more forcefully, and said, ‘Never shown you a picture of my old dad, have I? Here...’
Hagrid got up, went over to his dresser, opened a drawer, and pulled out a picture of a short wizard with Hagrid’s crinkled black eyes, beaming as he sat on top of Hagrid’s shoulder. Hagrid was a good seven or eight feet tall, judging by the apple tree beside him, but his face was beardless, young, round, and smooth—he looked hardly older than eleven.
‘Tha’ was taken jus’ after I got excepted inter Hogwarts,’ Hagrid croaked. ‘Dad was dead chuffed...thought I migh’ not be a wizard, see, ’cos me mum...well, anyway. ’Course, I never was great shakes at magic, really...but at least he never saw me expelled. Died, see, in me second year...’
Harry had heard some of this during the Yule Ball, so he had to pretend this was the first time hearing this tale.
‘Dumbledore was the one who stuck up for me after Dad went. Got me the gamekeeper job...trusts people, he does. Gives ’em second chances...tha’s what sets him apar’ from other heads, see. He’ll accept anyone at Hogwarts, s’long as they’ve got the talent. Knows people can turn out okay even if their families weren’...well...all tha’ respectable. But some don’ understand that. There’s some who’d always hold it against yeh...there’s some who’d even pretend they just had big bones rather than stand up an’ say—I am what I am, an’ I’m not ashamed. ‘Never be ashamed,’ my ol’ dad used ter say, ‘there’s some who’ll hold it against you, but they’re not worth botherin’ with.’ An’ he was right. I’ve bin an idiot. I’m not botherin’ with her no more, I promise yeh that. Big bones...I’ll give her big bones.’
Harry and Allison looked at each another nervously; Harry would rather have taken fifty Blast-Ended Skrewts for a walk than admit to Hagrid that he had overheard him talking to Madame Maxime, but Hagrid was still talking, apparently unaware that he had said anything odd.
‘Yeh know wha’, Harry?’ he said, looking up from the photograph of his father, his eyes very bright, ‘when I firs’ met you, you reminded me o’ me a bit. Mum an’ Dad gone, an’ you didn’t know were ya belonged, remember? Not sure who ya really were...an’ now look at yeh, Harry! School champion!’
He looked at Harry for a moment and then said, very seriously, ‘Yeh know what I’d love, Harry? I’d love yeh ter win, I really would. It’d show ’em all...yeh don’ have ter be pureblood ter do it. Yeh don’ have ter be ashamed of what yeh are. It’d show ’em Dumbledore’s the one who’s got it righ’, lettin’ anyone in as long as they can do magic. How you doin’ with that egg, Harry?’
‘Great,’ said Harry. ‘Really great.’
Hagrid’s miserable face broke into a wide, watery smile. ‘Tha’s my boy...you show ’em, Harry, you show ’em. Beat ’em all.’
Lying to Hagrid wasn’t quite like lying to anyone else. Harry went back to the castle later that afternoon with Allison, unable to banish the image of the happy expression on Hagrid’s whiskery face as he had imagined Harry winning the tournament. The incomprehensible egg weighed more heavily than ever on Harry’s conscience that evening, and by the time he had got into bed, he had made up his mind—it was time to shelve his pride and see if Cedric’s hint was worth anything.
So apparently there are two variants of the bronze trio so I might do the Pansy, Draco and Blaise version.
Blaise: We’re playing Scrabble. It’s a nightmare.
Pansy: Scrabble? Scrabble’s great.
Blaise: Not when you’re playing with Draco, it’s not. They put words like “ephemeral” and I put “dog.”
Draco: *speaking Spanish*
Pansy: I know, I know.
Blaise: You speak Spanish?
Pansy: No. I just know the phrase, 'this is all your fault' in every language Draco speaks.
Draco: Any questions?
Pansy: Uh, yeah, WHAT THE BL##DY H**L WAS THAT?!
Draco: Uh, a plan, duh...
Blaise: Pansy, chill, I know it’s weird, but Draco has a point.
Pansy:
Pansy: THAT WAS LITERALLY A PONY DOODLE WITH A HAT!!
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Part 1: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003587179#
Part 2: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003587597#
Part 3: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003588288
Part 4: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003590311
Draco had to get a lot of stitches and bandages for his knee (he had to get the stitches first though, and he lost his mind over it).
Blaise and Pansy came to visit him in the hospital, but they felt very scared watching Draco cry and make very painful moans when he was getting the stitches. Snape felt extremely sorry for Draco just hearing him cry and moan in misery despite that he was the one who had to give him the stitches.
Snape: Shh... it's okay, sweetheart... it'll all be over soon.
Draco: Professor... Can we leave now? I don't want to get anymore stitches, please, it's very painful...
Snape: I'm sorry, Draco... We can't leave yet, I know this is hard for you, believe me, stitches are never gonna feel like fluffy clouds, but try to stay calm, okay?
Madam Pomfrey: Severus, are you don't want me to just give him the sti-
Snape: Absolutely not, Poppy! You'll just make him scream so bad the windows will break. Besides, this is my kid, so I must be the one to give him the stitches.
Draco: How much more, professor...?
Snape: You just need two more stitches, Draco, so please stay calm...
Draco closed his eyes, trying his hardest not to freak out during the last two stitches he had to get.
He covered his mouth in case he was going to moan again, but these moans were shockingly not as painful as the ones before.
Snape: It's okay, Draco... it's over... now all you need is a couple of bandages and you'll be okay...
Draco: So we can leave after I get bandages?
Snape: Well, no, not exactly, you will still need to heal for a couple of days, but after those days are over and your knee gets better, I'm sure we'll be able to get back to class, okay?
Draco nodded.
Hermione Granger appeared at the open door and took a peek at Draco Malfoy just as he was getting his bandages.
For she had also felt sorry for him when he got hurt.
Pansy was the first one to see Hermione before anyone else.
Pansy: What's she doing here?
Everyone turned around, Snape glared at Hermione, giving her a menacing look.
Snape: Why did you come here? I don't trust you, Granger. Not after last time especially.
Hermione: I just came to visit Draco...
Snape: "Visit" him? You? I don't think so... Don't try anything fishy, you little mudblood. If you dare to even come near my precious Draco, you'll be in a even worse situation than the Weasley boy. I'm dead serious.
Sirius Black appeared from out the open window.
Sirius: Hey, that's my name.
Snape: We get it, Sirius, now get out of here, I didn't mean serious as in Sirius Black.
Sirius: My bad!
Sirius left the situation.
Hermione: Professor, I'm not trying to hurt Draco, I feel sorry for him too... you don't understand... I'm in love with him...
Snape glared even more at Hermione when he heard this, this time he looked pretty disgusted with her right now.
Draco felt tears coming out of his eyes again.
Draco (in his mind): Granger.....
Pansy stood up and folded her arms.
Pansy: Get out, you filthy mudblood.
Hermione: Why don't you make me, Pansy Bickerson.
Pansy walked over to Hermione and punched her in the face.
Blaise clapped for Pansy.
Blaise: Nice!
Madam Pomfrey: Hey, if you two are gonna fight, take it outside.
So that's what they did. Hermione and Pansy took their fighting outside. The two were exchanging punches right now.
Later, Hermione was pulling Pansy's hair with one hand and punching her with the other while Pansy started scratching Hermione.
Meanwhile with Narcissa and Bellatrix...
Narcissa was crying because she sent an owl to Draco and he never responded.
Narcissa: Poor Draco... who knows where he could be right now...
Bellatrix: I'm sorry, Cissy...
Narcissa: It's not you, it's just... I miss Draco very badly...
Bellatrix: I know, I'm sure we'll find him soon, he couldn't have gone that far. Maybe he's just very busy at Hogwarts right now.
Narcissa: I hope you're right...
Bellatrix: Do you want me to just send him an owl?
Narcissa: I don't know, Bella... you still fancy the Dark Arts... you still consort with people like Voldemort... show me, Bella... show me you'll change, and I might forgive you...
Bellatrix: Okay...
With Ron and the others...
Ron was shivering in the Entrance Hall while Fred, George, Ginny, Harry and Lavender were trying to comfort him.
Ron: He's gonna kill me when he gets back... Snape's gonna throw me in the dungeon...
Ginny: It's gonna be alright, Ron. We're here for you.
Harry: We won't let Snape throw you in the dungeon.
George: We could just throw firecrackers at him.
George laughed at his own sentence and Fred laughed with him.
Ron: No, you guys are gonna get in trouble too. He's gonna suspect it's you two too because nobody else here does it. I won't let Ginny get herself into trouble either because I don't want my sister to get thrown in the dungeon.
Harry: Ron's right guys, I'll have to take this stand.
Ron: No, you're not doing it either, you've done enough to get Snape mad at you.
Suddenly, everyone looked at Lavender.
Lavender: What's wrong?
Fred: I'm sorry..... what's her name again?
Ginny: Lavender.
Fred: Oh, that's right, I'm sorry, Lavender... but you'll have to get yourself in trouble...
Ron: Um... why does it have to be Lavender?!
George: Well, she's the only one who hasn't had any problems with Snape, so she'll have to do...
Ron: Because she shouldn't have any problems with Snape. Lavender is a girl, not a fish to be fed to an anaconda.
Lavender: George is right...
Ron: What???
Lavender: I have to take the fall on this one, I'm sorry, Ron, just know that I'm doing this because I love you, okay...
Ron: Okay...
TO BE CONTINUED...
Ron: Be careful, Lav...
Marcus Flint and Pansy Parkinson were taking Blaise Zabini the Slytherin common room to try to calm down after Lavender Brown rejected him.
Blaise could not calm down at all, he felt extremely sad and scared at the same time and he was breathing very hard.
Draco Malfoy, along with Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, just witnessed Blaise in deep despair and asked him what was wrong.
Marcus: He just asked Lavender Brown to be his girlfriend
Draco: WHAT?!?!?!!
Goyle: What did she say?
Draco: Well, of course she said no.
Blaise buried his face in his hands and nodded.
Draco: She did?
Blaise: Yes, she's never gonna forgive me...... ever!
Crabbe: What did you do?
Blaise: It sort of slipped out of me.
Pansy: Actually, he sort of screamed at her. It was kind of terrifying.
Blaise: I just wanted someone to love me like Kendra did Draco... now I'll never get that chance..... ever!
Draco: Hey..... calm down..... you'll find someone someday... just try to get over Lavender, okay?
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