Volunteers: The Willing and the Not-So
A/N
As you can see, my work continues.
As per the result of the poll on my page, my next venture into FF will be a Harry/Narcissa time-travel story, which is already planned and ready to be begun when the time is right, so thank you for all you who voted.
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This Chapter is dedicated to Joonah Chong. Your support is greatly appreciated x
The coldness he felt had little to do with the chill the North Sea brought. No, it was a familiarity he wished was not so, one that did not merely freeze your skin but your very being to the core. The island was ominous in itself, little more than a protruding rock that the prison had been built on. Misery reigned supreme here, any notion of happiness all but forgotten, even at this distance.
How any could endure the atmosphere and remain intact, he knew not, but his own godfather was living proof that it could be done. He, however, had no intention of testing himself in such a way. Had he no need to be here, he would not. If the island did not hold the one that was essential for his next endeavor in bringing an end to Voldemort, he would avoid it at all costs.
He released a deep breath, his exhale forming a thick cloud that once more had nothing to do with a cold snap but the creatures that roamed here, that kept the prisoners in their weakened state.
He shook his head as he spotted one of the shadowy forms floating lazily by one of the outer walls.
For now, he had done all he could. He would return when the time was right, and that would always be much sooner than he would like. A century could pass, and he would still dread another venture here, though such a thing was unavoidable. He would have to come back if he were to see the end of his foe.
The wards were as expected; designed to keep people in rather than out. There was only one other he could think of who would want to do as he was planning. No one in their right mind would do so and he could not help but remind himself that Voldemort's own was far from sound. Perhaps he was similar in that way?
He shook his head once more.
No, he was not doing so for any other reason than one so important that he had been driven to. If he could, he would leave and never return to this place.
He breathed freely once more as the burden of oppression the prison placed upon his shoulders was lifted, immediately feeling better. Nonetheless, he removed a bar of chocolate from within his coat and ate it, reveling in the warmth that spread throughout him.
Atop his broom just a short distance from the east coast of England, he did not want to ponder the enormity of the task before him. So many things could go wrong, but he had little choice.
Now, however, was not the time to consider them. He had achieved what he had set out to do this evening and he was content with that. His detention with Umbridge had been cut short, something that the woman would not take kindly to when she recovered from the stupor he had left her in, but he found that he didn't care. He had much more important things that required his attention, the first having been a visit here and the next, spending some time away from the castle.
The mood within had certainly shifted this year and it had nothing to do with what was lurking in the shadows and everything to do with the newest Professor. She was making changes that very few would find palatable. Though she was no threat to him, she was making his and his peers schooling a rather unpleasant experience.
Perhaps he should do something about it? Seemingly, no other was willing to, but he cared not for the woman, Fudge or the Ministry. But what?
Again, another thing to ponder but something not so pressing. Were she to continue to focus on him, he would ensure she learnt her efforts were for naught.
Pushing thoughts of Umbridge aside, he shifted them to more pleasant things as he activated his portkey and arrived at the place that none of the things plaguing his life mattered.
Passing through the wards, he left his troubles on the other side and smiled as the house came into view. It was an odd feeling going from burdened to unburdened in the space of only a moment, but he welcomed it and his steps felt lighter than they had these past days as he made his way towards the Delacour home.
The front door opened at his approach and Fleur all but threw herself into his arms. Not an unusual greeting by any stretch but the searing, lingering kiss she gave him was new.
He was taken aback by the gesture. So much so that he had barely responded when she pulled away leaving him somewhat breathless and confused, his head swimming as her presence overwhelmed him.
"What was that?"
"I missed you, 'Arry and couldn't think of a better way of showing it," she answered, standing almost defiantly in front of him. "If you do not like it, I won't do it again."
She put her nose in the air as she turned away from him and he found himself grasping her forearm without thought to bring her back. For only a second, he hesitated before returning the gesture, this, like her own being unchaste and raw, as inexperienced as it was.
"I missed you," he mumbled when they broke apart.
With a smirk at her blushing cheeks, he stepped past and entered the house, chuckling at the growl that escaped the girl.
"This is not over, 'Arry," she assured him. "I will get the better of you."
"Of course you will," he mocked as she caught up with him, her eyes narrowed.
"You are playing a very dangerous game with a veela," she warned. "We cannot be matched in our passion."
He paused, remembering something similar that Sebastien had said. It was her turn to grin knowingly as he faltered.
"That's not fair," he grumbled.
Fleur sighed as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"You cannot win at everything, 'Arry," she whispered demurely, her lips barely grazing across his own before she walked away leaving him standing dumbly, rooted to the spot.
"What the hell was that?" he mused aloud.
She had been more outwardly affectionate recently, but nothing like this. Never had she been so brazen or, well, he didn't know how to describe it. All he knew was that it had an effect on him and it was not one he disliked. He found he quite liked it, even if it was slightly unnerving.
It took him a moment or so to compose himself, and by the time he had joined the Delacours in the kitchen, Fleur was already seated and merely offered him an innocent smile that he did not believe.
"'Arry," Sebastien greeted him jovially, though he frowned. "Are you okay? You look as if you've 'ad quite the fright."
"Nothing I can't handle," he dismissed, shaking his head at the girl who continued to smile at him.
Sebastien hummed, his eyes drifting between the pair.
"'Ow 'as your week been?" he asked.
Harry shrugged.
"Umbridge is an idiot, so nothing's changed really."
Sebastien snorted amusedly.
He quite enjoyed the bluntness of the boy in comparison to the veiled intentions of those he worked closely with. If only politicians could be as open as him the world would likely be a better place. Alas, the political game was unlikely to change so honeyed words would remain in his day to day.
"I do have something to ask you, hypothetically, of course."
"Why do I 'ave the feeling you are going to ask me something that will get you into trouble?" the man sighed.
"That's why I'm only speaking hypothetically."
Sebastien shook his head as he took a seat.
"What is it you would like to know, 'Arry?"
"What is the law on moving creatures from one country to another?"
Fleur raised an eyebrow at him whilst Sebastien frowned.
"That would depend on the classification of the creature in question," he began thoughtfully. "If you were looking to move a Krup or a Puffskien, you should 'ave no problems. They are unlikely to 'ave a detrimental effect on a new land. Something like a 'ippogriff or Thestral on the other 'and would require several permits and agreement between the two countries," he explained.
Harry nodded.
"What about a basilisk?"
The man balked and shook his head severely.
"It is illegal in just about every country to keep one. They come under the same classification as Dementors and Nundus. They cannot be tamed and can be immediately fatal. If you were caught smuggling one, the creature would be killed, and you would spend a very long time in prison."
"Then I suppose it is a good thing I'm only asking out of interest," he returned.
Sebastien looked at him in disbelief but thought better than to press the issue. Harry would not do something so stupid, would he?
"Why would you need to move 'er?" Fleur asked.
Harry released a deep breath.
"She's old and the chamber is not warm enough for her," he answered. "She would prefer to be somewhere hotter to live out her remining years."
"She told you this?"
Harry smirked.
"You're not the only female in my life, Fleur," he goaded, causing her to flare her nostrils, "anyway, it was just a thought. No need to be jealous."
"I am not jealous," she denied vehemently. "A snake cannot 'ope to compete with moi," she added, flicking her hair over her shoulder.
"I think you touched a nerve there, 'Arry," Sebastien said almost proudly.
"Non, 'e did not," Fleur denied. "If 'Arry prefers the company of snake then 'e is welcome to them."
"You touched a nerve," Sebastien whispered amusedly, unaffected by the glare of his daughter.
"I 'ave seen the same look from your mother, my little flower. If 'ers does not work on me, yours will not either."
"Maman does not get jealous."
Sebastien laughed as he shook his head.
"I would not be so sure. Ask 'er about Jonelle," he urged.
Fleur frowned deeply.
"Who is Jonelle?"
"Jonelle was a pig your father used to work with," Apolline answered as she entered the room, her posture stiff as she stared daggers at her husband. "Your father was too nice to warn 'er off."
Sebastien released a deep sigh.
"I told you I could 'andle it. Come on, Apolline, it 'as been eighteen years."
Harry couldn't help but think the woman would transform in the middle of the kitchen then and there, but she composed herself.
"And I still 'ate 'er," she hissed. "Oh, Sebastien, I dropped my quill, could you get it for me? Oh, Sebastien, can you stay later with me? I need 'elp finishing these reports?" she mocked. "She knew we were getting married and she still persisted. Oh, Sebastien, 'ave you been working out? Pathetic."
Fleur stared at her mother in surprise, having never seen her this way.
"And who was it I married, Apolline?"
"Me," the woman answered grumpily. "She never would 'ave gotten to the altar."
Sebastien chuckled.
"She could not compare to you in any way," he offered as he stood and pulled the woman into his arms. "There is no need to get your feathers ruffled because of 'er."
"Shut up, Sebastien," Apolline huffed, though a smile tugged at her lips. "You 'ave got me all riled up now."
"Fleur did not believe you could be envious of anyone else," he shrugged.
Apolline shook her head.
"She will learn one day, when another takes an interest in someone she cares for. 'Arry is growing into a very 'andsome boy and we veela are quite territorial. It is in our nature."
Harry fought the urge to laugh of the image of a swan hissing at another that dared approached its nest that formed in his mind, though Fleur did not find what her mother said amusing. Her jaw had clenched and Apolline looked at her victoriously.
"You cannot fight your nature, my little flower. We are quite protective of what we see as ours."
"Like swans," Harry blurted causing the woman to frown and Sebastien to guffaw.
"I said the same thing many years ago and the look you are getting is what I got too," he said, pointing to his unimpressed daughter.
"Well, I could have said something less flattering."
"You could 'ave said nothing," Fleur countered.
"Now, why would I miss an opportunity like that?"
"Shut up, 'Arry," she sighed, mimicking the words her mother had spoken to her father.
"Now, back to the basilisk, non?" Sebastien interjected once more. "It would be a silly thing to try. 'Ow big is she anyway?"
"About seventy feet, I think?" Harry answered with a shrug.
"Moving a creature of 'er size will not be easy, 'Arry. You cannot shrink or transfigure 'er. Your only option would be to fly 'er or put 'er on a boat. Even that would be risky. It is not like you would not be seen."
"I know, it was just a thought," he replied, his mind already pondering what options were available to him.
He wouldn't leave her in the chamber, not if he could help it. She deserved to live somewhere she would be happy, and he could think of no better place than his own home.
He would figure it out, he just needed the time to do so.
(Break)
The weekend had proven to be a much-needed reprieve from class. Not only did it give her a chance to catch up with the endless amount of homework she had been given, but Umbridge seemingly believed her duties were done until Monday morning. The woman, however, had not been idle in her time off, as shown by Mr Filch as he hammered another two notices next to the first.
"How did she find out?" Neville whispered.
Hermione could only shake her head.
Somehow, someone must have tipped her off, though it could not have been one of the students in attendance. They had all signed her charmed parchment, and if one had broken their word, the outcome would be obvious to all. No, someone else must have been there, someone who did not sign. She huffed as she read the decree a final time.
Educational Decree Number Two
All group activities are hereby disbanded. Any who wish to form or re-establish a group will need the express permission of Professor Umbridge. Flouting this rule will result in severe punishment.
Dolores Jane Umbridge
High Inquisitor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
"She was either spying on us or someone else was there who told her," Hermione whispered back.
"What are we going to do?"
"We're still going to do it. We just have to make sure we don't get caught."
"Hermione Granger, breaking the rules?" a voice interrupted them. "I never thought I would see the day, but I did tell you she would find out. I didn't think it would happen this quickly," Harry added with a frown. "Someone must have talked."
"Impossible," Hermione denied. "If they did, I would know about it. I made them all sign a piece of parchment with hexes woven in. If someone talked, we would find out."
"That's quite ruthless," Harry commented, impressed, "but you really should be careful. If she found out about a meeting outside the castle, how difficult do you think it will be for her to find you all when you meet here?"
"I bet you could hide us from her," Hermione returned.
Harry nodded.
"I could, but I have my own things to worry about. Sorry, but I wont risk what I need to do for you lot to practice spells that do not need ten of you to learn."
"And what about You-Know-Who? Shouldn't we be able to defend ourselves from him?" She fired back.
Harry chuckled.
"Why would you need to do that? It's not you he's coming after. No offense, Granger, you're not exactly a priority to him."
"But you are! What if he attacks the school.?"
"He wouldn't, not unless he was desperate."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because both me and Dumbledore are here along with some of the most gifted witches and wizards in the country," Harry pointed out. "He would not openly attack. If he wanted something, he would send a single person in after it. He does not want to draw attention to himself."
"I suppose that's true," Hermione agreed reluctantly.
"If you want my advice, forget about the group thing. It will only end up with you getting expelled. Believe me, Umbridge is much worse than you think she is. It will start with detentions but when she realises it isn't working, she will take other measures."
"How do you know?" Neville broke in.
"Because I have met people like her. She will do whatever she thinks is necessary to get what she wants."
The boy swallowed deeply as he looked towards the girl.
"What about our exams?" Hermione reminded him.
"Bloody hell, Granger, I thought you were supposed to be smarter than this. Work something out, just do it away from anywhere Umbridge could catch you," he answered before taking his leave, ignoring the frown the girl sent his way.
"He's right, you know. We've already been caught once and we haven't even started," Neville sighed.
"We are still doing it! We just have to be more careful," she whispered as she read the second posting of the morning.
Educational Decree Number Three
Students are not permitted to be out of their common rooms after eight pm, with the exception of Prefects. Any students caught out of bounds will punished severely.
Dolores Jane Umbridge
High Inquisitor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"Really careful," Neville added.
Hermione could not fathom how Umbridge had gained such influence over the school in the short amount of time she had been here. No other professor seemed willing or able to stop it, not even Dumbledore and he was the headmaster. Something else was going on and she did not like it.
(Break)
"What do you make of it, Albus? Do you not think it is coincidental?"
Dumbledore looked over the missive Filius had received, a light frown marring his features as he chastised himself. With everything that had happened over the summer, the former Beauxbatons' champion had been far from his thoughts, but something he should have taken into consideration. Of course, what had transpired the night of the third task would not have ended there. No, at the very least, Sebastien would have wanted to compensate Harry in some way for what he had done for his eldest daughter.
He was aware of the rather up and down relationship between Harry and Fleur Delacour. He had escorted her to the Yule Ball, after all, but he had paid little mind to the two teens. However, what they experienced together that night could have only deepened the relationship between them. So much so, that the young woman was willing to place herself here knowing what threat awaited her.
Did she know about the tension within the school?
He stroked his beard in thought, nodding after a moment. Undoubtedly, she did, and it was likely her motivation for wanting to be here. She wanted to look out for Harry, which only begged the question; what was the nature of their relationship?
To him, it mattered not. If anything, any relationship they shared could only truly be a positive thing for the boy that concerned him daily. If he was still open to genuine affection, it was not too late.
He cleared his throat before responding.
"I believe we should treat this as we normally would," he decided. "Were we not in such difficult times, her offer would be most welcome and accepted. Of course, I leave it to you, my friend. If you feel she will be of benefit to yourself and the students, then you have my full support to accommodate her."
Filius nodded thoughtfully.
"And what of Dolores? She will not like this."
"Filius, it is not her job to make staff appointments or decide who can or cannot be within the castle," the headmaster pointed out. "I would quietly advise Miss Delacour of Madame Umbridge's, erm, position on those she sees as unfit."
Filius nodded severely.
"She is fortunate that I am much calmer in my later years. I would not have allowed her comments to pass without repercussion."
Dumbledore offered a bow in acknowledgement.
"She is an unpleasant woman, Filius, but I would not lose you. You are a much better man and I thank you for your restraint," he offered apologetically.
Dolores bothered him, her views bothered him and were not welcome in the school, but there was little he could do. Running the castle had already been made difficult enough. Were he to provoke things further, Cornelius would simply take further action and he was not ready to be absent, not yet.
"My restraint only stretches so far, Albus," Filius returned evenly.
"Then take comfort that your apprentice is not so level-headed. I do not agree with what action Mr Potter is taking, but I doubt any of us will be able to change his course. Perhaps Miss Delacour will be able to temper his more vengeful tendencies?
Filius frowned before his eyes widened.
"You don't think…?
"I do, my friend," Dumbledore confirmed. "They were rather close even before the final task, were they not?"
Filius nodded, the memory of the French champion seeking him out the day after the Yule Ball coming to the forefront of his mind.
"That complicates things, Albus."
"How so? We have no confirmation and are merely speculating on some rather loose suspicions, are we not?"
Filius smirked as he shook his head.
"And what do you think Harry's reaction will be if Dolores makes her views on people like myself and Miss Delacour known?"
Dumbledore's mouth formed into a hard line.
"I would hope that he could be placated, though I find it hard to be sympathetic towards Madame Umbridge. Forgive my lack of professionalism, Filius, but she is only setting herself up for a spectacular fall with her actions here."
"Then I will make you aware now. If Harry is expelled because of her, I will continue with his apprenticeship, as I'm sure will Minerva."
Dumbledore nodded his understanding.
"Again, as in this matter," he said, gesturing to the parchment, "you will have my utmost support, though I hope it does not come to that. Unfortunately, Mr Potter is not one for diplomacy. I did all I could to ensure there would be no reason for them to interact, but Dolores took it upon herself to counter my moves, to her own detriment I fear."
Filius nodded as he stood.
"Then let us hope that Miss Delacour's presence will curb any hasty and irreparable action Harry decides to take. Merlin only knows what the boy could do to her."
Dumbledore released a deep breath as his charms professor took his leave and reached for his bowl of sherbet lemons. It was a fine line he was walking and one that unsettled him.
He did not wish to see Harry expelled but he was curious to see just how far the boy was willing to go when pushed. Often, he found himself pondering such, but with the dynamic of Miss Delacour added to the mix, he clung to the notion that he had been wrong, that he was seeing things that were not truly there.
However, he could not simply dismiss them because of one difference, though such a difference could be the key to preventing Harry following in Tom's footsteps.
It could be all the difference he needed, and the thought brought a smile and hope to the aged man. He had made his mistakes with his former student, and even with Harry, he knew not how to pull him back from the brink were he to amble too closely to the edge. Perhaps it was Miss Delacour that would prevent him plunging into the abyss he feared he was falling into?
Still, he could not lay all his hope with the young woman. No, he too needed to remain vigilant and keep an eye on Harry. The similarities were too glaring, though the differences brought comfort.
It was a conundrum that he would need to solve, for his own peace of mind, the key of which seemed to lay in whatever Tom had done to preserve himself.
(Break)
The silence within the room was deafening. To Harry, it mattered not. He knew silence, had spent much of his life in it, had even learned to love and appreciate the peace it brought. The same could not be said of the other students who would often break it with a deep sigh, or with restless fidgeting and it was only a matter of time before something was said. He could feel it as could the others, though they seemingly looked to him to be the catalyst.
More often than he was comfortable with, one of his classmates would turn towards him, almost pleading for him to do something to break the monotony they were experiencing. Much to their disappointment, here merely shook his head. He would not indulge their whims for entertainment. He was no performing monkey and his reasons for how he treated Umbridge went far beyond boredom, though, were the occasion to arise, he would not miss the chance to irritate the woman.
"What is it, Miss Granger?" the woman snapped as Hermione raised her hand.
"I still do not understand the reason for this book," the girl huffed. "Slinkhard gives no advice other than to run away, but what if you can't?"
Umbridge snorted before composing herself, a sickly, patronising smile plastered across her face.
"You silly girl," she chided, "of course you can always run away. There should never be a reason for you to raise your wand against another. That is why we have the auror department."
Seeing the girl was going to offer a rebuttal, Harry silently thanked her for an opportunity she unwittingly gave him, and he intervened, purely for his own benefit.
"Professor Umbridge is right, Granger," he sighed, cringing at the filth he felt cling to himself as the woman turned to him in surprise. "The aurors are highly trained witches and wizards, of course, not as well as our dear Professor here," he added.
Umbridge frowned at him questioningly, evidently confused by his change of attitude.
"Sorry, Professor, I do agree with Granger to an extent, but you are, of course, correct. You should always run away when you can. Magic is very dangerous and unpredictable in conflict. It is not something you should involve yourself in unless you are willing to do to your enemy what they will do to you. A dark wizard will not hesitate in causing you pain beyond measure before they become bored and eventually kill you."
"Potter, that is enough…"
"It really is relevant, Professor," he defended as he stood. "I am trying to get them to understand the valuable lesson you are giving us."
Umbridge continued to frown but he ignored her in favour of continuing.
"You are right when you say that it is not always possible to run away, for example," he pressed on as he drew his wand and flicked it towards the unsuspecting woman. A pink dome formed around her and she immediately panicked, her eyes widening fearfully as Harry rolled up his sleeves. "Do any of you know what this is?"
When none raised their hands, he released a deep breath.
"POTTER, STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING THIS INSTANT!" Umbridge shrieked.
He silenced her with a wave of his wand, ignoring her frantic pleas. His fellow students looked on worriedly and he gave them a reassuring smile.
"Thank you, Professor, for volunteering," he offered. "I have no doubt you could remove it if you wished."
Desperately, Umbridge pounded her fists against the construct, her silent pleading garnering no response from any within the room.
"What is it, Harry?" Ron asked cautiously.
"That is an excellent question, Weasley," he praised. "This is a rather simple containment spell that also works as a reverse shield. Allow me to demonstrate."
He proceeded to fire a jelly-legs jinx and vomiting hex at Umbridge who was too slow to avoid them, as such, she lost control of the lower half of her body and began to expel what was likely her lunch.
"As you can see, I am able to attack her, but she cannot do the same. Any spell she fires in there will rebound and hit her. Of course, certain spells will destroy it, such as the unforgivables."
To prove his point, Umbridge did attempt to attack him with a rather unpleasant pain curse that ricocheted off the shield and impacted against her, sending her to the floor with an unheard, though undoubtedly agonised scream.
Harry simply shook his head at her.
"Well, why aren't you writing this down?" he questioned the students who immediately complied and began taking notes, much to his amusement.
"You are going to be in so much trouble," Hermione whispered harshly, her eyes flickering between him and the twitching, still vomiting woman.
Harry shrugged carelessly.
"This is your fault, Hermione," he returned with a smirk. "If you hadn't asked your question, this wouldn't have happened."
"But I…"
"Shh," Harry interjected, "you are interrupting the others."
Her mouth fell agape in shock, partly because he was right but mostly because he had taken advantage of the situation to get one over on the hated woman.
"How do you end the spell, Harry?" Dean asked, nodding towards the dome.
"Ah, good question, Thomas," he replied as he turned his attention back to the construct and the pink-clad woman within. "Professor, I did think you would have used your initiative to end the spell yourself, but I do thank you for your dedication to your expertise. As to Boot's question, it is as simple as this."
He once more pointed his wand at the dome and spoke loudly enough to be heard.
" Aufero."
The shield faded away and the room filled with the smell of vomit as Umbridge continued to heave silently, the contents of her stomach spilled all around her as her legs continued to jerk.
"Everyone give Professor Umbridge a round of applause for her help. She's been a real sport."
A few students did so, though it was reluctant at best and Harry ended his spells.
Umbridge remained where she was for a minute or so, fighting to draw breath before pushing herself onto her unsteady legs.
"Get out," she seethed. "All of you, GET OUT NOW!"
The students did not need telling twice. Immediately, they slid their books into their bags and bid a hasty retreat though Harry remained where he was, unfazed by the anger of the woman.
"You little bastard," she spat. "You will pay for that."
Harry chuckled humourlessly.
"Of course, I will," he sighed. "You're no threat to me, Umbridge. I do not fear you and I certainly don't fear the idiot who calls himself a Minister. If you both keep coming for me, I can promise, you have seen nothing yet. Whatever it is you're doing here, leave me out of it and then I will leave you alone. If you keep pushing, I will continue to make your life hell."
With his parting words given, he gathered his belongings and exited the room, leaving behind a fuming defence Professor.
He had no doubt that she would press on despite his warning. She was a fool and a stubborn one at that who would not be quelled so easily. However, he had meant what he said. If she continued with her actions against him, he would escalate his retaliation.
He had more important things that demanded his attention than Dolores Jane Umbridge, but he would not allow her to exert her will over him.
(Break)
"What are your thoughts, My Lord?" Lucius asked, his usually calm demeanour having been replaced with one of concern.
Voldemort nodded as he re-read the letter that the snivelling spawn of the man had sent to his father.
"I would advise young Draco to be very cautious and to not draw attention to himself."
Lucius released a deep breath.
"You do not believe the threat empty?"
Voldemort chuckled.
"I do not, my friend," he answered candidly. "Potter proved that he is willing to end a life if needed. Whether he would do so when it is not a necessity remains to be seen, but I would heed the threat, nonetheless. He has a habit of going beyond what we would believe him capable of."
"I am worried for Draco, My Lord. He has not proven himself to be reticent when needed. He is a Malfoy through and through, but he has the blood of the Blacks also. They were always vengeful in lieu of caution."
"Then he must learn, Lucius, and quickly. It would be foolish for him to provoke Potter. The boy is beyond your own. Even you must be able to see that."
Lucius nodded reluctantly, the bitter taste of the truth not a palatable one.
"I will write to him at once, urging such."
"And you had better hope he listens," Voldemort replied. "If he does not, the consequences for him will be dire and for you also. I will not have my plans compromised by your son and his foolish tendencies. Control him, Lucius, or I will take it upon myself to do so."
Lucius swallowed deeply as he nodded.
"Of course, My Lord," he returned, offering a bow before taking his leave.
When he was alone once more, the Dark Lord took a seat, his thoughts wandering to Harry Potter. He was a far cry from the eleven-year-old he had met when he had attempted to retrieve the stone some five-years-ago. He had grown in the most unexpected ways. He had become ruthless and he had no doubt of the authenticity of the threats made because he would have done something similar when he was of a similar age.
The thought brought a frown to his waxen features.
Potter was very much like he had once been. From the way he fought to the way he comported and carried himself, it was like staring in the mirror at his younger self. They even looked alike in many ways, though that was coincidental. The way he acted, however, was not. It could not be a mere coincidence that the shared so many similarities.
Could something else have happened the night he had tried to kill the boy? Was it possible something more than he knew had gone amiss?
He shook his head, though the doubts remained.
Potter wasn't just like what he had once been; He stood all but identical. He too was something of an outcast, a parselmouth and an exceedingly gifted wizard, even more so than he had seemingly been at that age.
His ponderings concerned him, and he stood abruptly.
Was such a thing possible? Surely, he would know if that had happened, though would he? He felt no connection to his other creations other than Nagini. Would he not experience the same if Potter carried a piece of him?
He knew not, but it became a pressing concern. He needed to be certain, though he never would be, not completely. The magic involved was so little understood that he would only be able to defer to his own suspicions for clarification and that would not be enough.
"No," he said firmly, shaking his head of the thought.
It could not be possible. Even if it were to be so, his plans would not change. Potter would not be brought to his side, would not be able to be controlled. The boy had to die, what he knew of the prophecy was clear on that and though it brought a fresh wave of concern over him, he would not dwell on it.
If Potter did carry a part of himself, it was now tainted and would have to be eliminated with him. It was no loss, truly. He had six others to rely on, after all.
(Break)
"Had I known you were so keen to begin the teaching portion of your apprenticeship, I would have had you doing so already," Professor McGonagall huffed irritably. "Honestly, Potter, I expected better from you."
Harry shrugged.
"No one else is doing anything about her," he bit back. "She has just waltzed in here and made everyone's life miserable. I won't let her do the same to me."
McGonagall released a deep breath as she took a seat behind her desk. She reached into her drawer and removed a tartan tin. Placing it in front of him and opening it, she gave him an understanding smile.
"Have a biscuit, Potter."
He frowned at the woman suspiciously but accepted one of the newt-shaped confections, nonetheless.
"You are not a stupid boy. Surely, you can see that what is happening is much more complex than it appears on the surface."
"I know, but that doesn't mean I have to take her crap. Just because Fudge has something up his arse, I'm not going to put up with Umbridge. Besides, I only offered a demonstration. Doesn't this school encourage class participation."
McGonagall fought the urge to grin.
"Don't be so facetious, Potter. Shut up and eat your biscuit."
Harry did so, the respect he had for the woman stilling his tongue.
"I can assure you that were it not for certain circumstances, Professor Dumbledore would personally escort the woman out of the castle. She would not have been employed in the first place."
"What circumstances? The way I see it, Fudge is being a baby because he can't handle the truth."
"Of course, he is, Potter," McGonagall snorted. "If you were him, would you believe what was being said? If you had someone you saw as a close ally that has supported you for years being dismissive of something, wouldn't you be too?"
"No, because I don't have shit between my ears, Professor," he denied. "I would pay attention to what is going on out there," he added, pointing towards the window.
She offered him a rare smile.
"That is because you are already much cleverer than Cornelius Fudge. He is a fool, Harry, but one we must suffer. He could make life very difficult for so many here."
"How?"
"Funding, mostly," she sighed. "Our numbers have dropped since the last war and we rely on Ministry funding to keep the school running. Less students mean less funding and the Ministry currently cover the difference. Now, that wasn't the brainchild of our current Minister, but if he were to put it to certain individuals on the Wizengamot, they would likely support the funds being pulled. If that were to happen the school may not be able to remain open. So, to an extent, we must accommodate his whims for the time being."
Harry shook his head in disbelief.
"Well, how much does the Ministry pay?"
"I believe it is in the region of fifty-thousand Galleons a year. Not a negligible sum."
"Bollocks to that," Harry muttered. "If you fire Umbridge, I'll pay the money."
McGonagall laughed and then choked when his demeanour remained serious.
"Potter, I know your family are somewhat wealthy, but not that rich."
"I have the gold," he insisted. "I'd happily part with some of it to get rid of them, or I could just hire a hit-wizard to get rid of them both. That would probably be cheaper. How much is the going rate?"
"I will pretend I did not hear that," McGonagall replied, shaking her head. "As much as your gesture is appreciated, it is not your responsibility. Whatever gold you have accumulated should be spent wisely. This is an issue between the school and the Ministry that needs to be dealt with delicately. Remember Potter, things that are broken are not easy to put back together. One day, Fudge will be gone, and when that happens, we can hope we have a Minister who is not a complete berk. For now, we must tolerate certain measures he has put in place and hope that his ridiculous ego is stroked enough."
"But why does that mean I have to be careful? Umbridge has taken a rather personal interest in me. I am simply returning the favour."
"In the least subtle way possible," Professor McGonagall pointed out before sighing deeply. "Just, be careful, Potter. I would rather you kept your head down, but I know that would be asking too much of you. James and Lily were both as stubborn and you seemed to have inherited it from two sides. I will not condone any action you take, but I cannot discuss with you what I do not know."
Harry nodded his understanding.
"Now, you are very fortunate that Professor Dumbledore has somehow managed to convince Madame Umbridge that this was an isolated incident and it will not happen again. However, you will serve a week's detention, split between myself and Filius. Tonight, you will be with me and tomorrow you have your prefect rounds. On Wednesday and Thursday, you will be with him and on Friday, with me again."
"That's what I do anyway," he replied, frowning, silently cursing his oh so lofty position.
"Not on Fridays," McGonagall corrected, "so do be quiet, Potter. As for your display in class, I believe that we need to ensure that desire of yours to teach is put to a more productive use, yes?"
Harry shrugged at the pointed look he received.
"Starting next Monday, you will be teaching my first- and second-year transfiguration classes, to start off with," she informed him. "they do not clash with your timetable, I have checked. I will help you with your planning during our time together on Friday. Any questions?"
"I don't suppose I can get out of it?"
"No, Potter, you cannot," she replied with a smirk. "Do not look so glum, I thought this was what you wanted."
Harry simply shook his head. He had brought it on himself, after all.
(Break)
Being back at Hogwarts was an odd feeling, though not as odd as the atmosphere of the castle. When she had arrived previously, there had been an air of excitement about the place. That was all but absent, replaced with a sense of foreboding, of bleakness. It felt wrong, as though a dark cloud had formed over the school waiting to unleash a storm.
She pushed the feeling aside as she approached the office she sought. She had been here once before so knew where to find it.
Although the missive she had received had not been one inviting her to an interview, she had dressed formally, nonetheless. She had worn her best robes and styled her hair in a ponytail. Checking her reflection in a mirror she kept in her pocket a final time, she braced herself and knocked.
Much to her relief, her presence had been requested in the evening when most of the students would be in their common rooms, however, she had expected to at least see a few of them roaming the halls. There had been none. Another oddity she took note of.
"Come in, Miss Delacour," a familiar voice bid.
She entered the office and offered a smile to the diminutive man seated behind the desk, staring at her speculatively.
"Please, take a seat."
She did so and the Professor continued to stare at a moment before releasing a deep breath.
"I have received requests such as yours over the years, Miss Delacour. For various reasons, people have wished to assist me in my teaching. What I would like to know is why you have chosen to come here?"
"I enjoyed my time 'ere, Professor," she answered. "Madame Alerie speaks 'ighly of you and I think I could learn a lot from you."
Flitwick hummed as he nodded.
"And it has nothing to do with the fact that Mr Potter is here?"
She deflated, her calm countenance faltering under his penetrating stare.
"I worry about 'im, Professor," she answered honestly. "'E is 'ere alone and with so many people that want to 'urt 'im."
He held up a hand to prevent her continuing and gave her a sympathetic smile.
"I do not know the nature of your relationship, and the little I know, the better. My only concern is that I have an able and dedicated assistant. What you do in your free time is not my business. I must, however, make you aware of certain changes since you have been absent."
"Madame Umbridge?" she questioned, her tone speaking volumes of the distaste she felt towards the woman.
"Indeed," Flitwick sighed. "She is a difficult woman, one that is not flattering towards people like us. She will not take kindly to your placement here."
"I am not 'ere for Madame Umbridge's approval, Professor. I 'ave lived with prejudice my entire life. There is nothing that she can say I 'ave not 'eard before."
Flitwick nodded his understanding.
"It is not you that worries me, Miss Delacour. My fear is what Harry would do were he to hear her views. Already, there has been much unpleasantness between the two, and her transgressions against him have been rather infantile. His rebuttals have not been. Only yesterday, he trapped her within a rather clever charm and cast a jelly-legs jinx and vomiting hex at her under the guise of teaching something to the class."
"Form what I 'ave 'eard, she deserves much worse."
Flitwick fought the grin that threatened to overcome him, covering it with a cough.
"Be that as it may, I do not wish for him to be expelled or arrested. I cannot imagine a scenario where he would go quietly."
Fleur shook her head.
"Non, 'e would not. 'E 'ates it 'ere, Professor, in Britain. It 'as never been kind to 'im."
"I'm aware of some of what has happened. I do not like what he has experienced, and I am grateful for how he has turned out. I have seen children pass through these halls over the years that have handled less and not coped half as well as Harry. It is a testament to his resilience. With that aside, however, I simply need to know if having you here will be a benefit or potential for further problems."
Fleur released a deep breath.
"I do not know, Professor, but I would like the chance. 'E needs someone 'e can turn to and someone to look out for 'im."
Flitwick nodded readily.
"Then I will give you your chance, Miss Delacour, for both of your sakes. I have grown very fond of him over the years and only wish for him to succeed in his endeavours. If having you here will be a help to you both, your placement has my full support."
"Thank you, Professor."
"Do not make me regret my decision," the man added firmly as he offered his hand.
Fleur took the proffered limb in her own.
"I will not."
"Good, I would like you to start on Monday morning. What days are you working with Madame Alerie?"
"With my placement 'ere, we will work on Monday and Wednesday evenings."
"Then I will have a timetable prepared and sent to you. In the meantime, if you do have any questions, then please do send me an owl."
"I will, and thank you again, Professor. I will not let you down."
(Break)
Prefect duty was as boring as he'd expected it to be. With Umbridge's rule of being in common rooms by eight, there were no students to catch out of bounds. Seemingly, the only ones willing to break this rule was the Weasley twins who were currently serving a month's worth of the detention with the woman due to their nightly activities the previous evening. With them out of the way, there was little for him to do other than walk the corridors of the school with a very quiet Padma Patil.
To him, it was a waste of time that would be better spent under the tutelage of Professor McGonagall, where he would be were it not for the badge pinned to the front of his robes.
"Bloody hell, this is pointless," he groaned.
"I'm sorry that my company is not interesting enough for you," Padma commented dryly.
"It's not you, it's this," Harry returned gesturing to the empty, silent halls. "Even catching two people in a broom cupboard would at least be something."
The girl raised a delicate brow at him.
"Please don't. I don't want to know what some of the people here get up to."
"It could be worse. We could always catch Filch and his cat or worse still, Filch with Umbridge. He does seem to like her," he replied with a shudder.
Padma shot him a look of disgust, though she smirked.
"Well, no one will make that mistake with you and her. Why do you hate each other so much?"
Harry shrugged.
"She's a bitch who deserves everything she gets. Nosy old cow."
Padma snorted.
"I thought you were going to kill her yesterday. How have you not been expelled?"
"I was only offering a demonstration," he defended. "I didn't expect her to not break the spell. Merlin, she's incompetent. I don't suppose she wants her boss to know about that. She'd look even more stupid than usual."
Padma nodded her agreement.
"She is horrible. My father was furious when he found out she would be here. He's met her a few times and she makes a point of patronising him by speaking very loudly and slowly. He was born in England and doesn't have an Indian accent."
"She's an idiot," he huffed, frowning and pausing as he felt a familiar presence nearby.
"What is it?"
Harry waved her off as he drew his wand and rounded the corner, barely avoiding walking into the blonde coming the opposite way. Fleur yelped in surprise.
"What are you doing here?" he asked confusedly.
"Merlin, 'Arry, you made me jump," she gasped, clutching her chest. "Why are you sneaking around?"
"I'm on prefect duty," he explained, pointing to the cumbersome badge. "That doesn't explain why you are here."
"I was meeting with Professor Flitwick. I will be starting 'ere as 'is assistant on Monday," she replied, her posture stiffening challengingly.
He could only stare at her for a moment, the answer she gave not one he expected.
"Er, what?"
Fleur tutted at him impatiently.
"I will be here from Monday working with 'im for my apprenticeship."
Harry shook himself from the stupor that had befallen him.
"Why?"
"Because it will be good for me to work 'ere," she answered, a sad smile forming. "And I can't sit in France whilst you are 'ere alone, 'Arry."
Any protest that was forthcoming died on his tongue as he returned the gesture.
"It is dangerous here, Fleur…"
"For you too," she countered, cutting him off. "I will not sit back waiting for you to be done with whatever it is you are doing, 'Arry Potter. I will be 'ere with you, 'elping you when you need it. What would you do if it was the other way around?"
Harry released a deep breath as he nodded.
"I would want to be there for you."
Fleur grinned victoriously.
"So, you will accept my decision, non?"
Harry chuckled.
"Do I have a say in the matter?"
"Non, you do not. From Monday, I will be 'ere and we can go to France at the weekends, oui?"
"Bloody hell, your dad was right. You're just like your mother," he grumbled, unable to find a point to argue with her.
"And look 'ow 'appy 'e is," she pointed out, eliciting another chuckle from him. "I am needed 'ere more, 'Arry. Besides, I 'ope you are not complaining about seeing me."
He shook his head, pleased by the thought but not by the dozen or so scenarios that ran through his mind where she could be hurt.
"I can 'andle myself, 'Arry. You already know that."
He nodded reluctantly.
"That won't stop me worrying."
"As I worry for you."
"I suppose I should be congratulating you then."
Fleur nodded as she stepped in front of him and wrapped her arms around his neck.
" You will find there are a lot of benefits to me being closer," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him.
They were interrupted by a cough coming from Padma who was staring at them, shocked by what she was witnessing.
"You two?" she squeaked.
Fleur nodded, her eyes not leaving his own.
"Would you believe me if I said no?" Harry asked.
Padma shook her head.
"I would not," she replied, smirking, "but I am not my sister. As far as I remember, we had a very uneventful patrol."
"Thank you…"
"Although, I could really use some help with transfiguration and defence…"
"Fine," Harry agreed.
Padma smiled brightly before taking her leave.
"Bloody Ravenclaws," Harry grumbled.
"You're not ashamed of me are you, 'Arry?" Fleur teased.
"Of course not, but you will technically be a member of staff here."
"Hmm, you are right," Fleur replied as she removed her arms and placed a kiss on his cheek. "I will 'ave to be professional, non? I will see you Friday, 'Arry," she finished, walking away and leaving him staring dumbly after her.
"Oi, what was that?" he called before she could round the corner.
She turned and only offered him a rather demure smile that caused him to shake his head. He could only watch as she left, and he leaned on the stone wall of the corridor.
"This is not good," he muttered with a grin tugging at his lips that had been unceremoniously neglected, "not good at all."