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batsutousaiTitle: Abandon
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
batsutousai
Beta:magickmaker17
Pairings: Harry/Tom(Voldemort), Seamus/Blaise, Ginevra/Theodore, post-Ron/Hermione, Salazar/Godric
Warnings: This will have slash(Guys on guys, ppl.), Dumbledore bashing, Ron bashing
Disclaim Her: I have pencils in my hair. *nods*
Key:
Mind-speak
:Parseltongue:
’Written thoughts’
°°Phoenix speech°°
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Chapter 42, Part 1
---------------------------------
Harry awoke to the silent alarm with a groan. “Tempus,” he muttered once he’d found his wand; it was too early to do wandless magic. The glowing numbers claimed it was three forty-five in the morning. What makes you and your lot want to get up this early?
Hey, I did not decide on the time, Tom shot back, sounding plenty awake.
Fucking bastard... Harry moaned, pulling himself from bed and walking over to his wardrobe. I’ve come to the conclusion that I despise the colour black.
Tom snorted. I’ll bet you do. Too bad for you it’s the colour we always wear.
I hate you.
No you don’t, you’re just grumpy because you had to get up early. I’ll see you in ten minutes, Tom added before closing his side of the conversation.
Ignore my plight, why don’t you? This sucks, Harry whined, pulling out a robe and throwing it on. He grabbed the glass of water next to his bed and took a quick swallow before pulling on his old trainers and slipping downstairs.
The common room wasn’t totally empty, much to Harry’s annoyance. “Miss Thorald,” he greeted the first year, leaning over the back of her chair.
Ula gave a shout and jumped up, spinning around to look at him, wand drawn. “Potter,” she whispered, realizing who it was.
Harry nodded politely. “Good reflexes.” He turned and started towards the portrait hole. “You should probably be in bed, you know.”
“Yes,” she agreed softly.
Harry glanced back at her over his shoulder. The young girl looked like she’d been hit with a wrecking ball. He pulled a vial out of one of his pocket. “Here.” He tossed it to her and she caught it in surprise. “Drink a tablespoon. It’s Dreamless Sleep, and you look a mess. Get some sleep. If you need to talk to someone later, come find me or one of the other Prefects.” He winked at her before slipping from the room.
Harry slipped down the silent halls as quietly and quickly as he could, glancing at the Marauder’s Map occasionally to check his bearings. All of the teachers were already gathered in the meeting room and a quick “Tempus” told him the meeting would start before he got there. He sighed. Nothing to help it.
When he reached the meeting room he glanced back down at the Map curiously. His little figure had him saying “Trip ‘em” to the wall in front of him. He shrugged and put the Map away. “Trip ‘em.”
The wall faded out of sight and Harry found a room full of teachers turning to stare at him. “Harry! Glad you could make it!” Dumbledore called cheerfully. “Come in, come in. It looks like Marcus saved you a seat...”
Harry slipped into the seat next to his lover and glanced around nervously. It appeared that he’d interrupted them. Tom rested a hand on his knee and smiled soothingly.
“Mr Potter has graciously accepted the Defence Against the Dark Arts position for next year,” the Headmaster announced, regaining the room’s attention. “I asked him to come to the meeting to get a feeling for the way things were done and, hopefully, make friends with his current teachers and soon-to-be co-workers.”
Harry shot the man a dark look. He hadn’t mentioned that last bit. Bloody pain in the arse.
“Welcome and well met, then,” Madam Pince, who was sitting next to Poppy, said. The majority of the staff hummed or nodded their agreement, even Severus, much to some people’s surprise. Obviously, not everyone had realized, yet, that the air had been cleared between student and professor.
“Yes, yes.” Dumbledore nodded, eyes twinkling. “Now that everyone is here, we can get started. Do we have any students causing trouble?”
“The usual.” McGonagall sighed. “York, Munro, Rockwell, and Thorald. They appear to have become worse.”
They have?
Not in my class.
Of course not. You’ve scared the shit out of them enough times I’ll bet they fear you as much as Severus.
“Mr Cauldwell has also been out of line of late,” Sprout announced. “I’m not quite sure why, either. He’s not talking to me.”
“He’s being really quiet in my class,” Sinistra replied. “Although, that could be just because he’s tired by that time.”
“Is Mr Cauldwell being difficult in any other classes?” Dumbledore inquired.
“No one’s misbehaving in my classes,” Severus said coldly.
“That’s because you terrify them,” Harry muttered. The smiles that went around the table told of the staff’s agreement with that statement as Severus shook his head at the teen. Harry shot the Potions Professor a smirk.
“Cauldwell has been a bit of an issue,” Flitwick agreed suddenly. “He’s been banishing things at people.”
“Perhaps he’s hoping to fill Mr Potter’s place once he’s graduated,” Severus offered bitingly.
“Then I fear he’s going about it the wrong way. I don’t recall ever banishing something at someone else,” Harry shot back evenly.
“No, you broke every other rule, instead,” Severus replied.
Harry snorted. “Look who’s talking.”
The staff watched on nervously as the two long-time enemies glared at one another for a long minute before Severus let out a sigh. “Point made. You win.”
Harry punched the air with a gleeful grin. “Ha! You’ll never beat me.”
Severus snorted. “Keep dreaming, brat.”
Everyone let out a breath of relief at the rude endearment. Severus insulted everyone, no matter what, but he never used that semi-nice tone with a person he hated.
“Now that the morning’s play fight is out of the way...” Dumbledore teased, earning him dark looks from both of the raven-haired wizards. “Cauldwell may be looking for attention. Pomona, try talking to him again. If he still won’t behave, someone send him to me.” Everyone nodded in agreement while Harry picked at his nails. “Now, does anyone have any new suggestions for York, Munro, Rockwell, and Thorald?”
When no one offered an answer, Harry leaned forward to speak. “Sir, I have talked to them all about House rivalries before, but it was more so because of Misses Kern, Vance, and Clough. Would you like me to see if I can get them to stop fighting in class, at the least?”
Dumbledore gave the young man a searching look while the other staff members stared at him in surprise. No one had heard anything about this talk. “I don’t see why not.”
“You’ve talked to them about their treatment of Clough, Vance, and Kern?” McGonagall asked seriously.
Harry nodded. “Enid told us – Herm, Parvati, and myself – that they were secluding them for being friends, so I had a talk with all the Slytherins and all the Gryffindors.”
“It hasn’t appeared to have helped much,” Sprout offered.
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “I see.”
“Miss Clough came to you?” McGonagall inquired curiously.
“She came to me for help on her Potions work,” Harry agreed, shooting Severus a dirty look. “Herm and I got it out of her because Herm wanted to know why she’d been sitting all alone.”
“I see...”
“I’ll have another chat with them,” Harry promised.
Student problems taken care of, the staff members moved on to discussing workloads, exam preparations, OWL and NEWT preparations, and other little bits. Harry was intrigued to learn that the professors hated grading the work just as much as the students hated doing it, and that their workloads were almost as bad as their students’. At one point, when Professor Vector was complaining about being behind, Harry got a sudden idea.
“I have a question,” he said once Vector was done.
Everyone turned to him. “Go on.” Dumbledore nodded.
“I know that, when Marcus gets bogged down with work to grade, he usually asks myself or Gin to help him with it, and, one time, Herm, Dray, Ted, and 'Bini all helped Professor Snape with some grading while we were down there visiting and he was helping Gin and myself with a few potions,” Harry said, glancing around. “If the workloads are so difficult and you can’t lay off because of the up-coming exams, NEWTs, and OWLs, why not ask some of the sixth and seventh years if they’d care to help you with some of the work for the younger years. I have no doubt that some of us will love helping you all out, and it'll be good revision for them, too.”
“Albus, for once, I agree with your choice for Defence teachers,” the Muggle Studies teacher, Professor Burbage, announced. “Now, really, why didn’t any of us think about that before?”
“Normally, I just wait and see if a student asks to help,” Flitwick admitted. “I never really considered asking the students.”
“Well, no. We’re the teachers. We shouldn’t need a student’s help,” Trelawney replied highly.
“Professor Trelawney, you’re not talking to young students so much at the end of their seventh year. By this time, most of us are adults and wish to be treated as such,” Harry put in gently.
“An excellent point, Harry,” Dumbledore said, smiling widely. “Sibyll, I’m sure Misses Brown or Patil would be glad to help you out.”
Trelawney’s eyes lit up. “Perhaps,” was her vague reply.
Tom smiled and squeezed Harry’s leg as Dumbledore wrapped the meeting up. Aren’t you brilliant? Herm will love you forever for giving her something to do.
I know. Harry slipped his hand under the one on his leg and entwined his fingers with the Dark Lord’s.
“A good meeting, everyone,” Dumbledore said, standing. “I’ll see everyone at breakfast soon. Harry, could you remain for a bit?”
“Of course, Professor Dumbledore,” Harry agreed as the staff around him stood.
“I’ll wait for you outside,” Tom murmured, giving the hand he held a gentle squeeze before leaving with Poppy.
“My staff calls me Albus, you know,” Dumbledore commented as he sat next to Harry, in Tom’s chair, once everyone had left. “And I knew you’d fit right in.”
“I’ll bet you did,” Harry shot back, leaning back in his chair.
Dumbledore offered the wizard a secret smile. “As you’re still, technically, a student, you don’t have to attend every staff meeting we have, though you should feel welcome to come, if you wish to. They’re always at four in the morning, every Saturday morning, unless something comes up.”
“Of course.” Harry nodded. “Might as well get used to getting up at this ungodly hour, after all.”
“Indeed.” Dumbledore chuckled and stood. “Well, I won’t keep you waiting. I’m sure Marcus is glaring holes at the entrance in attempts of getting it to let you out sooner.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Harry stood with a shrug.
“Oh, Alastor wanted me to tell you to meet him at the Leaky Cauldron at noon,” Dumbledore added suddenly. Harry turned to look at the old man. “The meeting doesn’t start until one, so I assume he actually means to have lunch with you. I will allow it, of course, since I’m sure that, between the two of you, you’d have no trouble, but I am warning you to be careful. Especially if you don’t want the press hounding you.”
Harry offered Dumbledore a small smile. “I’ll be sure to go in disguise, then. Thank you, sir.”
The old Headmaster smiled. “I’ll have you calling me Albus by the end of the school year.”
“Sir, knowing you, you’ll have me calling you Albus by the end of the weekend, if only because I’ll have got sick of you pestering me.”
The green-eyed wizard left to Dumbledore’s laughter.
-~/\~-
“Potter?”
Harry glanced up from the Potions book he’d borrowed from Severus earlier in the week. It was barely legal, as the Potions teacher had pointed out, but an interesting read, nevertheless. “Miss Thorald. How can I help you?”
Ula shot a quick glance over her shoulder at where her best friend, Ronan Rockwell, was shouting at Victor McKinley, another first year. “You said I could talk to you if I needed someone to talk to, right?”
“Of course.” Harry closed his book and stood. “Come on upstairs. Something tells me you don’t want your friends seeing you talking to the ‘evil, Dark, new Prefect’.”
“How did you know that’s what we call you?” Ula inquired, following as Harry led her to the dormitories.
Harry shrugged. “I know a lot of things, Miss Thorald,” he offered before poking his head into his dorm room. Neville was laying on his bed with a book held on his chest, which he was reading. “Hey, Nev.”
Neville glanced up as Harry led the first year in. “Oh, hello, Harry. Which one of the horrors is this?” he asked lightly, smiling at the startled first year.
“Ula Thorald,” Harry replied, setting Severus’ book on his bedside table.
Neville looked at the girl curiously. “You’re the one Marcus is always complaining about, aren’t you?”
“One of them,” Harry agreed.
“Who’s Marcus?” Ula asked, looking between the two seventh years.
“Professor Brutús,” Harry clarified. “Have a seat on the bed. Nev, do you mind if I kick you out?”
Neville let out a great sigh as he stood. “I suppose. Might as well go find Dean and help him with that Astronomy chart.”
Harry chuckled as he saw his friend out and locked the door behind him. Then he took a seat on Neville’s bed. “Talk away, Miss Thorald. I’m listening.”
Ula was looking at Harry’s comforter, picking at it. “I...” She shook her head.
Harry sighed and moved over to sit next to her, settling an arm around her shoulders. “What’s wrong, Ula?”
The girl glanced up at him in surprise and found compassion in a gaze that was usually aimed at her with coldness. “I-I got a letter from my Mum yesterday evening. She said she and Papi have to go on a trip to Bosnia, or somewhere and so I’ll have to spend the summer at my Grandpapi’s house and he hates me! Last time Mum and Papi left me with him, he locked me in a closet for three days ‘cause I broke a vase he’d been wanting to get rid of for years. His great auntie gave it to him, but he hated it. I didn’t think he’d mind, but he did. And now I have to spend the summer with him and I’ve got too much homework and York stole my textbook in Defence and won’t give it back and I couldn’t get any sleep last night!” she exploded. “It’s not fair!”
Harry smiled at the last bit. “Nothing is ever fair, Ula. One of life’s great lessons.” He ran his free hand through his hair thoughtfully. “Have you told your mother or your father that you don’t like your grandfather?”
“Yes. They say he’s a lovely man and I must learn to like him.” Ula’s face twisted into an ugly sneer. “I’ll like him when he’s dead.”
Harry chuckled dryly. “Your grandfather reminds me a little of my uncle,” he confided. “I was so happy when I learned he’d died this past summer.”
“How’d he die?” Ula asked with a surprised look.
“I turned him and my aunt into mice when I left their house.” Harry shrugged. “My cousin stepped on him.”
Ula giggled. “That’s a sad way to die. Didn’t he think to turn himself back?”
“He was a Muggle,” Harry replied mildly. “You said Cyrus York took your Defence text?”
Ula blinked a few times. “Yeah. Ronan and I cornered him before lunch, but Munro and Stanton came to his rescue and they all got away.”
Harry nodded. “Would you like me to see if I can get it back for you?”
“Oh, yes. That would be wonderful!”
“Good. Now, homework is an issue for all students, and trust me when I say it doesn’t get any better. I’d suggest doing it the night you get it, if you can. Also, a little inter-House peace can do your schedule loads of good. When you and your House mates are at odds, you’ve got that hanging over your heads and it’s harder to study.”
“Why are you so stuck on getting us to befriend Clough?” Ula asked suspiciously.
“Why are you so stuck on hating her?” Harry shot back. Ula scowled. “Hermione Granger, the Head Girl, was shunned by Gryffindor for the first part of our first year because she was a know-it-all. Ronald and I disliked her from the start, but she’s now my best friend,” he sighed after a brief moment of silence.
There was a sudden banging on the stairs and the door flew open to admit a pale Neville. “Harry, get downstairs! Where’s Herm?”
“Library,” Harry replied, getting to his feet and moving quickly to the door. “Why?”
“Ooh...” Neville moaned as he grabbed Harry’s hand and tugged him from the room. “Hurry.” Ula followed the two wizards curiously.
“Oh, fuck,” Harry hissed, looking at the mess that had been made of the common room. Curses were flying between the two groups that the House had split into while he’d been upstairs. Harry could see his people on one side with others and people he knew were firmly on the Light on the other. “ENOUGH!” he shouted.
Wands turned to the raven-haired wizard as he stepped off the stairs coldly. “Get out of it, Potter,” Evan Abercrombie, a fourth year, called from the Dark side of the room.
Harry stepped up to where a small fire had started on the carpet and he stomped it out calmly. “You’re all acting like first years. Squabbling over who knows what. Have exams really become so stressful?” his voice was empty of all emotion.
“Pavio!” a student shouted.
Harry slashed his hand through the curse, ending it. “I thought I said enough,” he hissed, looking up. His gaze was fearfully chilling as he rose one hand into the air above his head. “Expelliarmus.” Fifty-two wands appeared in a pile at his feet and the fifty-two students who had been fighting looked on in a mixture of fear and awe. “Nev, please go get Professor McGonagall for me.”
“Right.” The seventh year boy dashed across the mess and through the portrait hole.
“It appears that you have lost us the House Cup this year. Good job,” Harry said in a cold voice. “And you’d best hope you had a very good reason for this or I will personally see to it that you each get the worst punishment possible. In fact, I seem to recall Filch complaining about the trophy case being quite dirty. And Professor Snape said he had cauldrons that needed scrubbing. Hagrid mentioned that he’d love help on his rounds in the Forbidden Forest. Madam Pince has been saying for a few years now that the library could use a good dusting…”
Harry’s list of possible detentions was cut off when the portrait hole opened again to admit McGonagall and Neville. The Transfiguration Professor looked around the battleground and pale students huddled together on two separate sides of the room before she focused on Harry. “If you would, Mr Potter, explain what has happened here?” she asked in a strained voice.
Harry shot Neville a curious look and the boy shook his head. Harry sighed. “Professor, I was up in my room when Nev came to get me. He told me to get down here and I came upon the sight that you see before you, plus a few hexes flying across this portion of the room. I disarmed your lovely students and sent Nev to get you," was his calm response. “I have no clue what got them to start throwing hexes at one another and, frankly, I don’t care.”
McGonagall pursed her lips. “Of course you don’t. Go get the Headmaster for me while I attempt to get a reason.”
Harry nodded and stepped up to her. “Thorald was with me, even though she is standing with her friends now. She should be free from punishment,” he added in a low tone that would not carry.
McGonagall gave him a surprised look. “Of course.”
“Thank you.” The young man stepped up to Neville and slipped an arm around his fellow Heir’s shoulders. “Come on. You don’t want to be here when the old wildcat explodes,” he offered, eyes glittering with mischief. The two wizards left to nervous giggles and an amused ‘humph’ from McGonagall.
Once the door had closed behind them, Harry gave Neville a sharp look. “What happened?”
“I haven’t a clue, really. It looked like Abercrombie and Harcourt were arguing over school work again, at first. But it turned out they were fighting over Dark ideals and Light ideals. They got the rest of the House into it and, before you know it, there were hexes flying and the people caught in the middle had fled up the stairs in fear for their lives.” Neville sighed, shaking his head.
“A divided House,” Harry murmured. “I never thought we’d go this far. This is sickening.”
Neville nodded. “It’s ridiculous. Of course, now we know who's on which side.” He flashed Harry a quick grin and the green-eyed Heir laughed.
“Perhaps we do. Perhaps we don’t. It is interesting, however, that they did fight over it. I’m angry with Parvati and Dean, though. I thought they were mature enough to stay out of such nonsense.” Harry shook his head and slowed to a stop in the middle of the hallway. “Here, can I send you off to the library to collect Herm and Gin? Take them back up to Gryffindor, but please don’t put them into a panic. Tell them what’s going on, but tell them it’s handled.”
“Of course.” Neville drew away from the other’s grasp. “See you back upstairs, bro.”
Harry smiled crookedly. “Yes.” He shook his head in amusement as they parted ways. “Bro. Really.”
Can I watch you kill them all?
Oh, you can even help, Harry replied, mental voice shot through with venom. What, in Merlin’s name, got them to join in that fight?!
Don’t ask me to explain the minds of Gryffindors, Harry. It’s not my forte.
Harry sighed and stopped outside the gargoyle. “Sugar Quills.”
The gargoyle jumped aside and Harry took the stairs up to the closed office door, which he knocked upon. “Come in, Harry,” Dumbledore called.
Harry opened the door and gave the Headmaster a bland look. “Professor McGonagall sent me. I think she needs your help maiming Gryffindors.”
Dumbledore gave Harry a questioning look even as he rose and walked quickly over to the door. “Explain what’s going on as we go.”
Harry nodded and fell into step with the Headmaster as they started off towards Gryffindor Tower. “I was in my room, talking to Miss Thorald when Nev rushed in and told me to come down to the common room. It appears that the students had split themselves in half for some reason or another and had started hexing the hell out of one another. The common room was a mess when I left McGonagall in there to yell at them.”
“And how many did you hex?” Dumbledore asked teasingly.
“None, surprisingly enough. I just took their wands and put out a fire in the carpet.” Harry shrugged. “They aren’t my problem, though I am a little peeved that we’ve pretty much lost the chance of winning the Cup this year.”
The Headmaster hummed in agreement. “Of course.”
“Professor, I wonder...” Harry started suddenly. Dumbledore glanced at him curiously. “Sir, could I have a word with you after dinner? It’s a rather, shall we say, delicate matter.” He touched his mother’s Order pendant, which he’d continued to wear after the trial.
Dumbledore nodded. “Of course.” They slowed near the portrait. “Dear Lady.” The Headmaster nodded to the picture.
The Fat Lady smiled at him. “Headmaster,” she replied before swinging open for him, without the password.
“I’ll be damned...” Harry murmured, following the old man into the common room, which the students were busy putting to rights without magic. Hermione and Neville stood next to McGonagall with frowns while Gin looked ready to murder someone. “Well, it looks like things are in order here. I think I’ll go torment the Slytherins,” the green-eyed wizard said cheerfully before turning right around and leaving the common room with a smile.
-~/\~-
Harry walked into the Great Hall for dinner that night feeling about a million times better. On his way to his normal seat between Neville and Gin, he paused behind Ula, Ronan Rockwell, and Storm Ambrose. “Miss Thorald, I hope that you have learned that books happen to have legs and you must keep a closer eye on them.” He set her Defence book on the table next to her firmly. “I’m not fond of going down to talk to my friends in Slytherin and tripping over Gryffindor books. Be more careful with your belongings,” he added warningly before continuing down to his seat.
“Bastard,” Ronan muttered, watching the Prefect’s back. “Who does he think he is?”
Ula opened the front cover of her book and grinned. A note had been Spellotaped to the first page.
'I mentioned to York that I might just murder him if I catch him with another book that doesn’t belong to him. Had to return a Ravenclaw book too. Boy has a book fetish, I think.
‘I’m going to talk to the head of the Order of the Phoenix tonight and see if I can’t find some way to have at least one of your parents home this summer. If it can’t happen, let me know if you have another relative you prefer to your grandfather before noon tomorrow and I’ll see if I can’t talk your parents into sending you there, instead, when I see them. If that won’t work, I’ll have a chat with a few other people I know and we’ll see if we can’t work something out for you.
‘Keep in mind what I said about inter-House peace, missy. And keep in mind I’m always around if you need an extra ear or two.
‘That evil, Dark, new Prefect’
“Oh, come on, Ronan,” the witch teased, putting her book back down. “We both know he’s a fucking bastard with no brains or power. I mean, he can only do a wandless Disarming Charm.”
Ronan punched Ula’s arm gently. “You just like him now because he got you back that stupid book. You’ll feel better in the morning, I’m sure.”
Ula shrugged. “I’ll feel better once I’ve got my homework done.”
“Uhg.” Ronan made a face. “Thanks for reminding me!” Ula laughed.
Down the table, Harry was speaking to Dean and Parvati while picking at his food. “I’m not happy. You two should be extremely grateful that I have other things to do tonight and tomorrow than murder you.”
“We’re sorry, okay?” Dean hissed, dark eyes flashing.
Harry glanced up and the darker-skinned boy froze at the emotionless gaze. “Let me just put on the record that I am furious with you two. Marcus is furious with you two. Gin is furious with you two. I will keep from doing any damage this time and, in fact, you may consider this your first and last warning, but if you ever pull something like that again, I don’t care who started it, I will Crucio the both of you until you can’t scream anymore because your throat is raw. Are we clear?” he asked coldly.
Both Parvati and Dean nodded numbly.
“You’d better hope we are.”
Neville settled a calming hand on Harry’s shoulder and the green-eyed teen glanced at him. “The school has ears.”
“The world has ears and eyes. Always know a way to confound them,” Harry replied with a tight smile.
‘Stop quoting Moody.’ Gin muttered darkly, poking at her food.
“No.” Harry smirked. “Sex is a good stress reliever, don’t you know.”
Ginny turned to scowl at her brother as the small group of Gryffindors laughed at the Boy-Who-Lived. ‘Stop quoting ME.’
“No.”
“So, have you relieved your stress, yet?” Seamus inquired.
“Nope.”
“Then where have you been?” Hermione asked, surprised.
“Dungeons. I had to get something back from York and his little pals. That and have another little chat with him. Trust me when I say the whole thing didn’t help my bad mood,” Harry replied, smiling cheerfully.
‘You are one VERY odd egg. Why are you smiling if you’re pissed?’
“Anger management.” Harry shrugged. “That, and Dumbledore’s watching us.”
Five sets of eyes shot up the Head Table. Sure enough, Dumbledore was watching them.
Harry stood. “I have a meeting with the coot, in fact, so I’ll see you all later.”
“You’re having far too many meetings with him lately,” Seamus commented suspiciously.
“We’re plotting the downfall of good old Voldie, don’t you know. Have to do something with my time.” Harry winked before walking up the Head Table. “Headmaster.”
Dumbledore stood, smiling. “Follow me, then. We won’t even bother with my office,” he suggested, leading Harry over to the teacher’s entrance into the Hall.
Harry shrugged. “Very well.”
“A question,” Dumbledore said as he led Harry into a room off the Hall. “The other Gryffindors seem to think that the Disarming Charm you cast was wandless.”
“Yes,” Harry agreed warily.
“It was then?”
“I lost my temper.” Harry sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “I had just enough training to control myself that I was able to direct it to a purpose. Saber mentioned once, after I blew up at him, that I could probably accomplish such an action, so I tried it.”
“Interesting. I was just thinking, you can’t use your wand against Voldemort, so you might benefit from learning wandless magic.”
“All you have to do is piss me off before you set me on him and I’m sure I can manage something,” Harry muttered darkly, sitting in a chair that was set against the wall.
“Maybe not.” Dumbledore sighed, also sitting in a chair, which he’d pulled over to face Harry. “You want to talk to me about something to do with the Order?”
Harry nodded seriously. “I was talking with Ula Thorald earlier, as I said, and she told me she doesn’t want to go to her grandfather’s house this summer, but that her parents are making her because they have to leave the country. I’m assuming it’s Order business or they probably could have taken her with.”
“Harry, you’re trying to ask me not to send them, aren’t you?” Dumbledore sighed.
“If that’s possible,” Harry agreed.
“It’s not. We need them in Bosnia. Galatea has family there in the government and we need her and Xylon to sway them with us, rather than against us.”
“What are they now, neutral?”
“For the most part.”
“Neutral/Dark, then,” Harry deducted. At Dumbledore’s nod, he groaned. “Then I'll have to see if I can't talk Xylon and Galatea into letting Ula stay somewhere else.”
“Harry, why doesn’t she want to go to her grandfather’s house? He’s a kind man, from what I know of him.”
Harry shook his head sadly, standing. “Professor, you should know by now that everyone has more than one face. Ula has her reasons and I will not hand them about freely. She has entrusted them to me and I understand her. I will do what I can to help.”
“And if Galatea and Xylon don’t agree?”
Harry’s green eyes were cold as he met the Headmaster’s blue ones. “She will not spend the summer at her grandfather’s home if I have anything to say about it, sir. You know as well as I do that I can get whatever I want done once I’ve set my mind to it. Do everyone a favour and don’t meddle for once,” the teen said calmly before he left the old wizard alone with his thoughts.
-~/\~-
Chapter 42, Part 2
Abandon & Reclaim Series:
Abandon the Prequel: Sixth Year
Abandon Chapters:
01 || 02 || 03 || 04 || 05 || 06 || 07 || 08 || 09 || 10
11 || 12 || 13 || 14 || 15 || 16 || 17 || 18 || 19 || 20
21 || 22 || 23 || 24 || 25 || 26 || 27 || 28 || 29 || 30
31 || 32 || 33 || 34 || 35 || 36 || 37 || 38 || 39 || 40
41 ||42 || 43 || 44 || 45 || 46 || 47
Reclaim Chapters:
One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten
Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Fourteen || Fifteen
Epilogue
Side Stories:
Ginevra Weasley & Theodore Nott
Minerva McGonagall || Minerva McGonagall (again)
Author:
batsutousaiBeta:
magickmaker17Pairings: Harry/Tom(Voldemort), Seamus/Blaise, Ginevra/Theodore, post-Ron/Hermione, Salazar/Godric
Warnings: This will have slash(Guys on guys, ppl.), Dumbledore bashing, Ron bashing
Disclaim Her: I have pencils in my hair. *nods*
Key:
Mind-speak
:Parseltongue:
’Written thoughts’
°°Phoenix speech°°
Chapter 42, Part 1
---------------------------------
Harry awoke to the silent alarm with a groan. “Tempus,” he muttered once he’d found his wand; it was too early to do wandless magic. The glowing numbers claimed it was three forty-five in the morning. What makes you and your lot want to get up this early?
Hey, I did not decide on the time, Tom shot back, sounding plenty awake.
Fucking bastard... Harry moaned, pulling himself from bed and walking over to his wardrobe. I’ve come to the conclusion that I despise the colour black.
Tom snorted. I’ll bet you do. Too bad for you it’s the colour we always wear.
I hate you.
No you don’t, you’re just grumpy because you had to get up early. I’ll see you in ten minutes, Tom added before closing his side of the conversation.
Ignore my plight, why don’t you? This sucks, Harry whined, pulling out a robe and throwing it on. He grabbed the glass of water next to his bed and took a quick swallow before pulling on his old trainers and slipping downstairs.
The common room wasn’t totally empty, much to Harry’s annoyance. “Miss Thorald,” he greeted the first year, leaning over the back of her chair.
Ula gave a shout and jumped up, spinning around to look at him, wand drawn. “Potter,” she whispered, realizing who it was.
Harry nodded politely. “Good reflexes.” He turned and started towards the portrait hole. “You should probably be in bed, you know.”
“Yes,” she agreed softly.
Harry glanced back at her over his shoulder. The young girl looked like she’d been hit with a wrecking ball. He pulled a vial out of one of his pocket. “Here.” He tossed it to her and she caught it in surprise. “Drink a tablespoon. It’s Dreamless Sleep, and you look a mess. Get some sleep. If you need to talk to someone later, come find me or one of the other Prefects.” He winked at her before slipping from the room.
Harry slipped down the silent halls as quietly and quickly as he could, glancing at the Marauder’s Map occasionally to check his bearings. All of the teachers were already gathered in the meeting room and a quick “Tempus” told him the meeting would start before he got there. He sighed. Nothing to help it.
When he reached the meeting room he glanced back down at the Map curiously. His little figure had him saying “Trip ‘em” to the wall in front of him. He shrugged and put the Map away. “Trip ‘em.”
The wall faded out of sight and Harry found a room full of teachers turning to stare at him. “Harry! Glad you could make it!” Dumbledore called cheerfully. “Come in, come in. It looks like Marcus saved you a seat...”
Harry slipped into the seat next to his lover and glanced around nervously. It appeared that he’d interrupted them. Tom rested a hand on his knee and smiled soothingly.
“Mr Potter has graciously accepted the Defence Against the Dark Arts position for next year,” the Headmaster announced, regaining the room’s attention. “I asked him to come to the meeting to get a feeling for the way things were done and, hopefully, make friends with his current teachers and soon-to-be co-workers.”
Harry shot the man a dark look. He hadn’t mentioned that last bit. Bloody pain in the arse.
“Welcome and well met, then,” Madam Pince, who was sitting next to Poppy, said. The majority of the staff hummed or nodded their agreement, even Severus, much to some people’s surprise. Obviously, not everyone had realized, yet, that the air had been cleared between student and professor.
“Yes, yes.” Dumbledore nodded, eyes twinkling. “Now that everyone is here, we can get started. Do we have any students causing trouble?”
“The usual.” McGonagall sighed. “York, Munro, Rockwell, and Thorald. They appear to have become worse.”
They have?
Not in my class.
Of course not. You’ve scared the shit out of them enough times I’ll bet they fear you as much as Severus.
“Mr Cauldwell has also been out of line of late,” Sprout announced. “I’m not quite sure why, either. He’s not talking to me.”
“He’s being really quiet in my class,” Sinistra replied. “Although, that could be just because he’s tired by that time.”
“Is Mr Cauldwell being difficult in any other classes?” Dumbledore inquired.
“No one’s misbehaving in my classes,” Severus said coldly.
“That’s because you terrify them,” Harry muttered. The smiles that went around the table told of the staff’s agreement with that statement as Severus shook his head at the teen. Harry shot the Potions Professor a smirk.
“Cauldwell has been a bit of an issue,” Flitwick agreed suddenly. “He’s been banishing things at people.”
“Perhaps he’s hoping to fill Mr Potter’s place once he’s graduated,” Severus offered bitingly.
“Then I fear he’s going about it the wrong way. I don’t recall ever banishing something at someone else,” Harry shot back evenly.
“No, you broke every other rule, instead,” Severus replied.
Harry snorted. “Look who’s talking.”
The staff watched on nervously as the two long-time enemies glared at one another for a long minute before Severus let out a sigh. “Point made. You win.”
Harry punched the air with a gleeful grin. “Ha! You’ll never beat me.”
Severus snorted. “Keep dreaming, brat.”
Everyone let out a breath of relief at the rude endearment. Severus insulted everyone, no matter what, but he never used that semi-nice tone with a person he hated.
“Now that the morning’s play fight is out of the way...” Dumbledore teased, earning him dark looks from both of the raven-haired wizards. “Cauldwell may be looking for attention. Pomona, try talking to him again. If he still won’t behave, someone send him to me.” Everyone nodded in agreement while Harry picked at his nails. “Now, does anyone have any new suggestions for York, Munro, Rockwell, and Thorald?”
When no one offered an answer, Harry leaned forward to speak. “Sir, I have talked to them all about House rivalries before, but it was more so because of Misses Kern, Vance, and Clough. Would you like me to see if I can get them to stop fighting in class, at the least?”
Dumbledore gave the young man a searching look while the other staff members stared at him in surprise. No one had heard anything about this talk. “I don’t see why not.”
“You’ve talked to them about their treatment of Clough, Vance, and Kern?” McGonagall asked seriously.
Harry nodded. “Enid told us – Herm, Parvati, and myself – that they were secluding them for being friends, so I had a talk with all the Slytherins and all the Gryffindors.”
“It hasn’t appeared to have helped much,” Sprout offered.
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “I see.”
“Miss Clough came to you?” McGonagall inquired curiously.
“She came to me for help on her Potions work,” Harry agreed, shooting Severus a dirty look. “Herm and I got it out of her because Herm wanted to know why she’d been sitting all alone.”
“I see...”
“I’ll have another chat with them,” Harry promised.
Student problems taken care of, the staff members moved on to discussing workloads, exam preparations, OWL and NEWT preparations, and other little bits. Harry was intrigued to learn that the professors hated grading the work just as much as the students hated doing it, and that their workloads were almost as bad as their students’. At one point, when Professor Vector was complaining about being behind, Harry got a sudden idea.
“I have a question,” he said once Vector was done.
Everyone turned to him. “Go on.” Dumbledore nodded.
“I know that, when Marcus gets bogged down with work to grade, he usually asks myself or Gin to help him with it, and, one time, Herm, Dray, Ted, and 'Bini all helped Professor Snape with some grading while we were down there visiting and he was helping Gin and myself with a few potions,” Harry said, glancing around. “If the workloads are so difficult and you can’t lay off because of the up-coming exams, NEWTs, and OWLs, why not ask some of the sixth and seventh years if they’d care to help you with some of the work for the younger years. I have no doubt that some of us will love helping you all out, and it'll be good revision for them, too.”
“Albus, for once, I agree with your choice for Defence teachers,” the Muggle Studies teacher, Professor Burbage, announced. “Now, really, why didn’t any of us think about that before?”
“Normally, I just wait and see if a student asks to help,” Flitwick admitted. “I never really considered asking the students.”
“Well, no. We’re the teachers. We shouldn’t need a student’s help,” Trelawney replied highly.
“Professor Trelawney, you’re not talking to young students so much at the end of their seventh year. By this time, most of us are adults and wish to be treated as such,” Harry put in gently.
“An excellent point, Harry,” Dumbledore said, smiling widely. “Sibyll, I’m sure Misses Brown or Patil would be glad to help you out.”
Trelawney’s eyes lit up. “Perhaps,” was her vague reply.
Tom smiled and squeezed Harry’s leg as Dumbledore wrapped the meeting up. Aren’t you brilliant? Herm will love you forever for giving her something to do.
I know. Harry slipped his hand under the one on his leg and entwined his fingers with the Dark Lord’s.
“A good meeting, everyone,” Dumbledore said, standing. “I’ll see everyone at breakfast soon. Harry, could you remain for a bit?”
“Of course, Professor Dumbledore,” Harry agreed as the staff around him stood.
“I’ll wait for you outside,” Tom murmured, giving the hand he held a gentle squeeze before leaving with Poppy.
“My staff calls me Albus, you know,” Dumbledore commented as he sat next to Harry, in Tom’s chair, once everyone had left. “And I knew you’d fit right in.”
“I’ll bet you did,” Harry shot back, leaning back in his chair.
Dumbledore offered the wizard a secret smile. “As you’re still, technically, a student, you don’t have to attend every staff meeting we have, though you should feel welcome to come, if you wish to. They’re always at four in the morning, every Saturday morning, unless something comes up.”
“Of course.” Harry nodded. “Might as well get used to getting up at this ungodly hour, after all.”
“Indeed.” Dumbledore chuckled and stood. “Well, I won’t keep you waiting. I’m sure Marcus is glaring holes at the entrance in attempts of getting it to let you out sooner.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Harry stood with a shrug.
“Oh, Alastor wanted me to tell you to meet him at the Leaky Cauldron at noon,” Dumbledore added suddenly. Harry turned to look at the old man. “The meeting doesn’t start until one, so I assume he actually means to have lunch with you. I will allow it, of course, since I’m sure that, between the two of you, you’d have no trouble, but I am warning you to be careful. Especially if you don’t want the press hounding you.”
Harry offered Dumbledore a small smile. “I’ll be sure to go in disguise, then. Thank you, sir.”
The old Headmaster smiled. “I’ll have you calling me Albus by the end of the school year.”
“Sir, knowing you, you’ll have me calling you Albus by the end of the weekend, if only because I’ll have got sick of you pestering me.”
The green-eyed wizard left to Dumbledore’s laughter.
“Potter?”
Harry glanced up from the Potions book he’d borrowed from Severus earlier in the week. It was barely legal, as the Potions teacher had pointed out, but an interesting read, nevertheless. “Miss Thorald. How can I help you?”
Ula shot a quick glance over her shoulder at where her best friend, Ronan Rockwell, was shouting at Victor McKinley, another first year. “You said I could talk to you if I needed someone to talk to, right?”
“Of course.” Harry closed his book and stood. “Come on upstairs. Something tells me you don’t want your friends seeing you talking to the ‘evil, Dark, new Prefect’.”
“How did you know that’s what we call you?” Ula inquired, following as Harry led her to the dormitories.
Harry shrugged. “I know a lot of things, Miss Thorald,” he offered before poking his head into his dorm room. Neville was laying on his bed with a book held on his chest, which he was reading. “Hey, Nev.”
Neville glanced up as Harry led the first year in. “Oh, hello, Harry. Which one of the horrors is this?” he asked lightly, smiling at the startled first year.
“Ula Thorald,” Harry replied, setting Severus’ book on his bedside table.
Neville looked at the girl curiously. “You’re the one Marcus is always complaining about, aren’t you?”
“One of them,” Harry agreed.
“Who’s Marcus?” Ula asked, looking between the two seventh years.
“Professor Brutús,” Harry clarified. “Have a seat on the bed. Nev, do you mind if I kick you out?”
Neville let out a great sigh as he stood. “I suppose. Might as well go find Dean and help him with that Astronomy chart.”
Harry chuckled as he saw his friend out and locked the door behind him. Then he took a seat on Neville’s bed. “Talk away, Miss Thorald. I’m listening.”
Ula was looking at Harry’s comforter, picking at it. “I...” She shook her head.
Harry sighed and moved over to sit next to her, settling an arm around her shoulders. “What’s wrong, Ula?”
The girl glanced up at him in surprise and found compassion in a gaze that was usually aimed at her with coldness. “I-I got a letter from my Mum yesterday evening. She said she and Papi have to go on a trip to Bosnia, or somewhere and so I’ll have to spend the summer at my Grandpapi’s house and he hates me! Last time Mum and Papi left me with him, he locked me in a closet for three days ‘cause I broke a vase he’d been wanting to get rid of for years. His great auntie gave it to him, but he hated it. I didn’t think he’d mind, but he did. And now I have to spend the summer with him and I’ve got too much homework and York stole my textbook in Defence and won’t give it back and I couldn’t get any sleep last night!” she exploded. “It’s not fair!”
Harry smiled at the last bit. “Nothing is ever fair, Ula. One of life’s great lessons.” He ran his free hand through his hair thoughtfully. “Have you told your mother or your father that you don’t like your grandfather?”
“Yes. They say he’s a lovely man and I must learn to like him.” Ula’s face twisted into an ugly sneer. “I’ll like him when he’s dead.”
Harry chuckled dryly. “Your grandfather reminds me a little of my uncle,” he confided. “I was so happy when I learned he’d died this past summer.”
“How’d he die?” Ula asked with a surprised look.
“I turned him and my aunt into mice when I left their house.” Harry shrugged. “My cousin stepped on him.”
Ula giggled. “That’s a sad way to die. Didn’t he think to turn himself back?”
“He was a Muggle,” Harry replied mildly. “You said Cyrus York took your Defence text?”
Ula blinked a few times. “Yeah. Ronan and I cornered him before lunch, but Munro and Stanton came to his rescue and they all got away.”
Harry nodded. “Would you like me to see if I can get it back for you?”
“Oh, yes. That would be wonderful!”
“Good. Now, homework is an issue for all students, and trust me when I say it doesn’t get any better. I’d suggest doing it the night you get it, if you can. Also, a little inter-House peace can do your schedule loads of good. When you and your House mates are at odds, you’ve got that hanging over your heads and it’s harder to study.”
“Why are you so stuck on getting us to befriend Clough?” Ula asked suspiciously.
“Why are you so stuck on hating her?” Harry shot back. Ula scowled. “Hermione Granger, the Head Girl, was shunned by Gryffindor for the first part of our first year because she was a know-it-all. Ronald and I disliked her from the start, but she’s now my best friend,” he sighed after a brief moment of silence.
There was a sudden banging on the stairs and the door flew open to admit a pale Neville. “Harry, get downstairs! Where’s Herm?”
“Library,” Harry replied, getting to his feet and moving quickly to the door. “Why?”
“Ooh...” Neville moaned as he grabbed Harry’s hand and tugged him from the room. “Hurry.” Ula followed the two wizards curiously.
“Oh, fuck,” Harry hissed, looking at the mess that had been made of the common room. Curses were flying between the two groups that the House had split into while he’d been upstairs. Harry could see his people on one side with others and people he knew were firmly on the Light on the other. “ENOUGH!” he shouted.
Wands turned to the raven-haired wizard as he stepped off the stairs coldly. “Get out of it, Potter,” Evan Abercrombie, a fourth year, called from the Dark side of the room.
Harry stepped up to where a small fire had started on the carpet and he stomped it out calmly. “You’re all acting like first years. Squabbling over who knows what. Have exams really become so stressful?” his voice was empty of all emotion.
“Pavio!” a student shouted.
Harry slashed his hand through the curse, ending it. “I thought I said enough,” he hissed, looking up. His gaze was fearfully chilling as he rose one hand into the air above his head. “Expelliarmus.” Fifty-two wands appeared in a pile at his feet and the fifty-two students who had been fighting looked on in a mixture of fear and awe. “Nev, please go get Professor McGonagall for me.”
“Right.” The seventh year boy dashed across the mess and through the portrait hole.
“It appears that you have lost us the House Cup this year. Good job,” Harry said in a cold voice. “And you’d best hope you had a very good reason for this or I will personally see to it that you each get the worst punishment possible. In fact, I seem to recall Filch complaining about the trophy case being quite dirty. And Professor Snape said he had cauldrons that needed scrubbing. Hagrid mentioned that he’d love help on his rounds in the Forbidden Forest. Madam Pince has been saying for a few years now that the library could use a good dusting…”
Harry’s list of possible detentions was cut off when the portrait hole opened again to admit McGonagall and Neville. The Transfiguration Professor looked around the battleground and pale students huddled together on two separate sides of the room before she focused on Harry. “If you would, Mr Potter, explain what has happened here?” she asked in a strained voice.
Harry shot Neville a curious look and the boy shook his head. Harry sighed. “Professor, I was up in my room when Nev came to get me. He told me to get down here and I came upon the sight that you see before you, plus a few hexes flying across this portion of the room. I disarmed your lovely students and sent Nev to get you," was his calm response. “I have no clue what got them to start throwing hexes at one another and, frankly, I don’t care.”
McGonagall pursed her lips. “Of course you don’t. Go get the Headmaster for me while I attempt to get a reason.”
Harry nodded and stepped up to her. “Thorald was with me, even though she is standing with her friends now. She should be free from punishment,” he added in a low tone that would not carry.
McGonagall gave him a surprised look. “Of course.”
“Thank you.” The young man stepped up to Neville and slipped an arm around his fellow Heir’s shoulders. “Come on. You don’t want to be here when the old wildcat explodes,” he offered, eyes glittering with mischief. The two wizards left to nervous giggles and an amused ‘humph’ from McGonagall.
Once the door had closed behind them, Harry gave Neville a sharp look. “What happened?”
“I haven’t a clue, really. It looked like Abercrombie and Harcourt were arguing over school work again, at first. But it turned out they were fighting over Dark ideals and Light ideals. They got the rest of the House into it and, before you know it, there were hexes flying and the people caught in the middle had fled up the stairs in fear for their lives.” Neville sighed, shaking his head.
“A divided House,” Harry murmured. “I never thought we’d go this far. This is sickening.”
Neville nodded. “It’s ridiculous. Of course, now we know who's on which side.” He flashed Harry a quick grin and the green-eyed Heir laughed.
“Perhaps we do. Perhaps we don’t. It is interesting, however, that they did fight over it. I’m angry with Parvati and Dean, though. I thought they were mature enough to stay out of such nonsense.” Harry shook his head and slowed to a stop in the middle of the hallway. “Here, can I send you off to the library to collect Herm and Gin? Take them back up to Gryffindor, but please don’t put them into a panic. Tell them what’s going on, but tell them it’s handled.”
“Of course.” Neville drew away from the other’s grasp. “See you back upstairs, bro.”
Harry smiled crookedly. “Yes.” He shook his head in amusement as they parted ways. “Bro. Really.”
Can I watch you kill them all?
Oh, you can even help, Harry replied, mental voice shot through with venom. What, in Merlin’s name, got them to join in that fight?!
Don’t ask me to explain the minds of Gryffindors, Harry. It’s not my forte.
Harry sighed and stopped outside the gargoyle. “Sugar Quills.”
The gargoyle jumped aside and Harry took the stairs up to the closed office door, which he knocked upon. “Come in, Harry,” Dumbledore called.
Harry opened the door and gave the Headmaster a bland look. “Professor McGonagall sent me. I think she needs your help maiming Gryffindors.”
Dumbledore gave Harry a questioning look even as he rose and walked quickly over to the door. “Explain what’s going on as we go.”
Harry nodded and fell into step with the Headmaster as they started off towards Gryffindor Tower. “I was in my room, talking to Miss Thorald when Nev rushed in and told me to come down to the common room. It appears that the students had split themselves in half for some reason or another and had started hexing the hell out of one another. The common room was a mess when I left McGonagall in there to yell at them.”
“And how many did you hex?” Dumbledore asked teasingly.
“None, surprisingly enough. I just took their wands and put out a fire in the carpet.” Harry shrugged. “They aren’t my problem, though I am a little peeved that we’ve pretty much lost the chance of winning the Cup this year.”
The Headmaster hummed in agreement. “Of course.”
“Professor, I wonder...” Harry started suddenly. Dumbledore glanced at him curiously. “Sir, could I have a word with you after dinner? It’s a rather, shall we say, delicate matter.” He touched his mother’s Order pendant, which he’d continued to wear after the trial.
Dumbledore nodded. “Of course.” They slowed near the portrait. “Dear Lady.” The Headmaster nodded to the picture.
The Fat Lady smiled at him. “Headmaster,” she replied before swinging open for him, without the password.
“I’ll be damned...” Harry murmured, following the old man into the common room, which the students were busy putting to rights without magic. Hermione and Neville stood next to McGonagall with frowns while Gin looked ready to murder someone. “Well, it looks like things are in order here. I think I’ll go torment the Slytherins,” the green-eyed wizard said cheerfully before turning right around and leaving the common room with a smile.
Harry walked into the Great Hall for dinner that night feeling about a million times better. On his way to his normal seat between Neville and Gin, he paused behind Ula, Ronan Rockwell, and Storm Ambrose. “Miss Thorald, I hope that you have learned that books happen to have legs and you must keep a closer eye on them.” He set her Defence book on the table next to her firmly. “I’m not fond of going down to talk to my friends in Slytherin and tripping over Gryffindor books. Be more careful with your belongings,” he added warningly before continuing down to his seat.
“Bastard,” Ronan muttered, watching the Prefect’s back. “Who does he think he is?”
Ula opened the front cover of her book and grinned. A note had been Spellotaped to the first page.
‘I’m going to talk to the head of the Order of the Phoenix tonight and see if I can’t find some way to have at least one of your parents home this summer. If it can’t happen, let me know if you have another relative you prefer to your grandfather before noon tomorrow and I’ll see if I can’t talk your parents into sending you there, instead, when I see them. If that won’t work, I’ll have a chat with a few other people I know and we’ll see if we can’t work something out for you.
‘Keep in mind what I said about inter-House peace, missy. And keep in mind I’m always around if you need an extra ear or two.
‘That evil, Dark, new Prefect’
“Oh, come on, Ronan,” the witch teased, putting her book back down. “We both know he’s a fucking bastard with no brains or power. I mean, he can only do a wandless Disarming Charm.”
Ronan punched Ula’s arm gently. “You just like him now because he got you back that stupid book. You’ll feel better in the morning, I’m sure.”
Ula shrugged. “I’ll feel better once I’ve got my homework done.”
“Uhg.” Ronan made a face. “Thanks for reminding me!” Ula laughed.
Down the table, Harry was speaking to Dean and Parvati while picking at his food. “I’m not happy. You two should be extremely grateful that I have other things to do tonight and tomorrow than murder you.”
“We’re sorry, okay?” Dean hissed, dark eyes flashing.
Harry glanced up and the darker-skinned boy froze at the emotionless gaze. “Let me just put on the record that I am furious with you two. Marcus is furious with you two. Gin is furious with you two. I will keep from doing any damage this time and, in fact, you may consider this your first and last warning, but if you ever pull something like that again, I don’t care who started it, I will Crucio the both of you until you can’t scream anymore because your throat is raw. Are we clear?” he asked coldly.
Both Parvati and Dean nodded numbly.
“You’d better hope we are.”
Neville settled a calming hand on Harry’s shoulder and the green-eyed teen glanced at him. “The school has ears.”
“The world has ears and eyes. Always know a way to confound them,” Harry replied with a tight smile.
‘Stop quoting Moody.’ Gin muttered darkly, poking at her food.
“No.” Harry smirked. “Sex is a good stress reliever, don’t you know.”
Ginny turned to scowl at her brother as the small group of Gryffindors laughed at the Boy-Who-Lived. ‘Stop quoting ME.’
“No.”
“So, have you relieved your stress, yet?” Seamus inquired.
“Nope.”
“Then where have you been?” Hermione asked, surprised.
“Dungeons. I had to get something back from York and his little pals. That and have another little chat with him. Trust me when I say the whole thing didn’t help my bad mood,” Harry replied, smiling cheerfully.
‘You are one VERY odd egg. Why are you smiling if you’re pissed?’
“Anger management.” Harry shrugged. “That, and Dumbledore’s watching us.”
Five sets of eyes shot up the Head Table. Sure enough, Dumbledore was watching them.
Harry stood. “I have a meeting with the coot, in fact, so I’ll see you all later.”
“You’re having far too many meetings with him lately,” Seamus commented suspiciously.
“We’re plotting the downfall of good old Voldie, don’t you know. Have to do something with my time.” Harry winked before walking up the Head Table. “Headmaster.”
Dumbledore stood, smiling. “Follow me, then. We won’t even bother with my office,” he suggested, leading Harry over to the teacher’s entrance into the Hall.
Harry shrugged. “Very well.”
“A question,” Dumbledore said as he led Harry into a room off the Hall. “The other Gryffindors seem to think that the Disarming Charm you cast was wandless.”
“Yes,” Harry agreed warily.
“It was then?”
“I lost my temper.” Harry sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “I had just enough training to control myself that I was able to direct it to a purpose. Saber mentioned once, after I blew up at him, that I could probably accomplish such an action, so I tried it.”
“Interesting. I was just thinking, you can’t use your wand against Voldemort, so you might benefit from learning wandless magic.”
“All you have to do is piss me off before you set me on him and I’m sure I can manage something,” Harry muttered darkly, sitting in a chair that was set against the wall.
“Maybe not.” Dumbledore sighed, also sitting in a chair, which he’d pulled over to face Harry. “You want to talk to me about something to do with the Order?”
Harry nodded seriously. “I was talking with Ula Thorald earlier, as I said, and she told me she doesn’t want to go to her grandfather’s house this summer, but that her parents are making her because they have to leave the country. I’m assuming it’s Order business or they probably could have taken her with.”
“Harry, you’re trying to ask me not to send them, aren’t you?” Dumbledore sighed.
“If that’s possible,” Harry agreed.
“It’s not. We need them in Bosnia. Galatea has family there in the government and we need her and Xylon to sway them with us, rather than against us.”
“What are they now, neutral?”
“For the most part.”
“Neutral/Dark, then,” Harry deducted. At Dumbledore’s nod, he groaned. “Then I'll have to see if I can't talk Xylon and Galatea into letting Ula stay somewhere else.”
“Harry, why doesn’t she want to go to her grandfather’s house? He’s a kind man, from what I know of him.”
Harry shook his head sadly, standing. “Professor, you should know by now that everyone has more than one face. Ula has her reasons and I will not hand them about freely. She has entrusted them to me and I understand her. I will do what I can to help.”
“And if Galatea and Xylon don’t agree?”
Harry’s green eyes were cold as he met the Headmaster’s blue ones. “She will not spend the summer at her grandfather’s home if I have anything to say about it, sir. You know as well as I do that I can get whatever I want done once I’ve set my mind to it. Do everyone a favour and don’t meddle for once,” the teen said calmly before he left the old wizard alone with his thoughts.
Chapter 42, Part 2
Abandon the Prequel: Sixth Year
Abandon Chapters:
01 || 02 || 03 || 04 || 05 || 06 || 07 || 08 || 09 || 10
11 || 12 || 13 || 14 || 15 || 16 || 17 || 18 || 19 || 20
21 || 22 || 23 || 24 || 25 || 26 || 27 || 28 || 29 || 30
31 || 32 || 33 || 34 || 35 || 36 || 37 || 38 || 39 || 40
41 ||
Reclaim Chapters:
One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten
Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Fourteen || Fifteen
Epilogue
Side Stories:
Ginevra Weasley & Theodore Nott
Minerva McGonagall || Minerva McGonagall (again)
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