- 14Â -
Isn't Life Strange
Isn't life strange?
A turn of the page
Can read like before
Can we ask for more?
Each day passes by
How hard man will try
The sea will not wait
You know it makes me want to cry, cry, cry
Wish I could be in your heart
To be one with your love
Wish I could be in your eyes
Looking back there you were
And here we are
- The Moody Blues
o o
o
"Thank you again, young man, this has been a fascinating interview. I believe a series of articles may be appropriate."
"But you'll lead with the Umbridge story?"
Xenophilius Lovegood, editor of the Quibbler magazine, gave a predatory grin. "Our policy has always been to question the actions of those in authority, especially when they forget it is the public they serve, and not the other way around."
"Such as the rotfang conspiracy? Luna told me about that."
"Oh, yes," he chuckled. "It's astounding how many scathing criticisms can be slid inside a farcical envelope, and the targets are too distracted to notice."
Harry laughed while standing to shake his hand. "That's great. Thanks for getting the message out."
They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Mr. Lovegood left in a flash of green fire via the floo connection.
Harry, Ginny and Ron had come to the Burrow the previous day from Professor McGonagall's office in Hogwarts using a special floo arrangement. Hopefully the Christmas break would be quiet and peaceful.
Ron looked quizzically at Harry. "What the bloody hell is the rotfang conspiracy?"
"Language, Ron," Ginny said, poking Ron in the ribs. "The Aurors are up to their usual mischief, trying to bring down the Ministry from the inside with some weird combination of Dark Magic and gum disease. Everybody knows that."
Ron gaped at her. "You're taking the mickey."
"That's what I thought," said Harry. "I nearly spewed my drink on Trelawney when Luna said it, and she was perfectly serious. Worth taking her, just for that."
"Do you fancy Luna, mate?"
Harry shrugged. "She's a loyal friend, and we had a good time. That's all I could ask for right now. It was a great night, and I can't decide which was better, McLaggen getting his due from Ginny, or Malfoy getting busted for crashing the party and hauled off by Snape."
Ron laughed as Ginny took a bow.
"Sorry I missed the ferret," Ginny grinned. "How are you guys succeeding in discovering his secret mission?"
Harry frowned in frustration. "We've watched him on the Marauders' map when we can, and he never seems to hang out with his goons Crabbe and Goyle anymore. They're usually spread out, but Malfoy seems to disappear a lot too - we can't find him on the map anywhere, not even in his own common room."
Ginny raised her eyebrows. "He's not disappearing on the seventh floor, is he?"
Ron exchanged a look with a dumbfounded Harry. "You think he's using the Room of Requirement?"
"Why not? After we used it for the D.A., it's not exactly secret anymore."
Harry shook his head. "Thanks, Ginny. I can't believe we didn't think of that."
Mrs. Weasley walked out of the kitchen. "While you're not thinking, dears, you could be working on these vegetables. Dinner isn't going to fix itself."
o o o
Harry awoke Christmas morning with presents on his bed - a Weasley jumper into which Molly had woven a Golden Snitch and a huge box of pranks from the twins, among others. He and Ginny had decided to keep their gifts simple to not arouse suspicion. He got her some Honeydukes' best chocolate - one of her favorites - and she got him a package of cauldron cakes.
"Who's that little crumpled package from?" asked Ron from his bed on the opposite side of the Chudley-orange-decorated attic.
Harry looked at it dubiously. "Kreacher. D'you reckon it's safe?"
Ron shrugged. "Knowing him, it's something disgusting - maggots or the like."
The cranky old house-elf had sent him a doxy-eaten tea towel.
"Huh. I think he's given me clothes."
o o o
Downstairs, the Burrow living room was festooned Weasley style, Ginny apparently showing her determination to paper-chain every visible surface. The Christmas tree was topped with - in Harry's opinion - the ugliest angel ever, which was actually a cantankerous garden gnome stupefied by Fred, painted gold, and stuffed into a silly miniature tutu.
Remus Lupin was a guest and had been sharing stories of Harry's parents, much to his delight, and some more disturbing tales of his mission with the other werewolves and how one of the worst was Fenrir Greyback, who enjoyed turning boys like Remus himself just for sport..
Bill and Fleur were also staying over, and thankfully the wireless remained silent today after Molly and Fleur spent much of Christmas Eve expressing their respective love or distaste of the warblings of Celestina Warbeck. Harry had heard enough of both the singer and the argument.
The only missing Weasleys were Charlie, who still worked at the dragon reserve in Romania, and Percy.
"Mum tells herself he's busy at the ministry," Fred confided during lunch.
"But," added George, "he's really the world's greatest prat."
"We already knew that," muttered Ron. "Still won't admit that Harry was right all along about You-Know-Who."
Harry's heart warmed at their comments, and it had absolutely nothing to do with Ginny sitting across the table, repeatedly rubbing her feet against his legs while he fought to avoid the smirks she sent his way.
They were finishing up lunch and discussing Tonks' new patronus that looked like a large four-legged beast of some kind, when Molly stood quickly, hands to her heart.
"Arthur!" she exclaimed, looking out the kitchen window, "it's Percy! And - oh, my - the Minister is with him!"
Before anything else could be said, Percy was standing in the back door and gave them a stiff greeting. Molly ran to embrace him while her third son looked awkwardly like he wished he was anyplace else.
Rufus Scrimgeour, his thick mane and black cloak spotted with snow, leaned on his walking stick and apologized for intruding. "Percy here insisted on dropping in and seeing everyone since we were in the vicinity - working, you know."
Molly tried to bring him to the table, but the Minister was adamant that they were only there for a few minutes and he would take a stroll outside while Percy caught up with the rest of his family.
He pointed to Harry. "That young man is finished. He can show me around your lovely garden."
Suddenly, it was clear to everyone why their estranged brother just happened to arrive at the end of Christmas lunch, accompanied by the new Minister of Magic, and it wasn't because they had been conveniently nearby.
Arthur and Remus rose to protest, but Harry sighed and said, "It's alright, I'll be fine."
He acknowledged the concerned looks from the others as he headed to the door and joined the former head Auror outside.
Rufus Scrimgeour bore many of the same battle scars as Mad-Eye Moody, making Harry wonder how well his own body would look after a few years in the Auror corps, assuming he lived long enough.
They walked silently across the yard, stopping at the low garden fence where tiny footprints of garden gnomes were visible in the snow.
"I've been wanting to meet with you for some time, but your headmaster is very protective of you."
Harry merely nodded, waiting for the Minister to get to the point.
"Understandable, of course, what with that business at the Ministry last June and these rumors of you being the Chosen One in a prophecy."
Harry looked at him, eyebrows raised. "I don't take stock in rumors, sir."
Scrimgeour turned to face him. "No, I don't suppose you would. But in our situation, public perception is extremely important. The people need a hero, and you have faced He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named on several occasions. Whether or not you are indeed the Chosen One, you are perceived as a savior."
Harry frowned, not happy with what he thought was coming next.
"However, we must present a united front against those who attempt to undermine our society. This unwarranted criticism of the Ministry in the Quibbler -"
"Unwarranted, Minister? Has Delores Umbridge been charged yet?"
"I can assure you, if there was evidence of criminal activity other than the ramblings of a fanatical tabloid editor -"
"Mr. Lovegood only wrote what I told him about, so they're not ramblings."
Harry raised the back of his right fist in front of the Minister's face, where he could clearly see the white scars of the words I must not tell lies that Umbridge had forced him to carve in his own flesh.
"The evidence is there if you would only bother to look. There were a dozen witnesses when she admitted to sending dementors after my cousin and me. There should be a paper trail as well. She failed to kill me last summer, so then attempted to get me expelled for merely trying to defend myself. That's not to mention her reign of tyranny at Hogwarts. She is guilty of attempted murder, torture of students, abuse of authority and being a nasty excuse of a human being. Yet she still works for you. Meanwhile, you arrest people like Stan Shunpike to be seen doing something, just like your predecessor did, ignoring the Death Eaters in the Wizengamot and in probably every department of the Ministry -"
"Hold on there, young man - don't compare me to that pompous fool, Fudge -"
"Why not? I've seen little difference so far."
Scrimgeour glared at him for a long moment, then slowly inhaled a lungful of icy air.
"I will excuse your disrespect in light of recent difficulties. However, in future I would prefer that we work together rather than against each other. To that end I will make sure that suspected Death Eater arrests are processed promptly, and the actions of Madame Umbridge will be thoroughly investigated. Would that be enough to garner your support?"
Harry was astounded. The Minister of Magic must be desperate to need his help this badly. This was an opportunity that he should not let go to waste.
"As I think about this, Minister, if last year's events happened again, I would still be breaking the law. Underage students who know how to defend themselves should be allowed to do so without the threat of expulsion or losing their wand."
"I can see your point, Mr. Potter. I think an exemption for those who have passed at least one OWL in a wanded subject may suffice. However, don't expect us to lift the trace."
Harry thought that would be an acceptable compromise. "If you could also be more aggressive against the Death Eaters you already know - especially the ones that broke out of Azkaban."
"That is more difficult. They have gone to ground; all their houses are unplottable. The rest were acquitted in the last war, and there would be a major outcry if we started arresting citizens merely on suspicion of wrongdoing."
"So you need evidence. How good are your surveillance operations?"
"Not good, I'm afraid; budget cuts in previous administrations have stripped the Aurors to a minimum. We can always use new talent, now more than ever," he said, looking intently at Harry. "I heard you were running some kind of underground defense club last year."
"Guilty as charged. Umbridge refused to teach us, so we taught ourselves. She expected us to waltz into our practicals without ever attempting the spells."
Scrimgeour hmmed as he nodded. "I expect you to come see our head Auror when you graduate, Mr. Potter."
"If the Ministry still exists by then, I am planning on it."
Harry turned back to the house, leaving the Minister deep in thought.
Percy seemed eager to leave when Harry returned, but Harry pulled him aside before he rejoined the Minister.
"Percy, a word of advice from someone who would give anything to have his family around. Don't take for granted what exists here and now. They love you very much and miss you terribly, even if your siblings feel you're being an arse at the moment. We're in a war and there's no guarantee that we'll all still be around on the other side of it."
Percy blinked at Harry's low entreaty, then nodded slowly.
"Yes, thank you, Mr. Po-... Harry." He glanced back inside, and the stony expressions seemed to soften just a little. "I'll consider your words, and the spirit in which they are given."
"Happy Christmas, Percy."
o o o
The week passed very quickly in Harry's opinion, and before they knew it, New Year's Eve was upon them, and the entire family was in the Burrow yard, including Percy who suffered some ribbing from his brothers in relatively good humor.
Harry grabbed Ginny from behind and held her close as they oohed and aahed over the fabulous fireworks display that Fred and George had created especially for them. Each family member was caricatured in some humorous way - Harry was on his Firebolt blasting multiple snitches, Ron was blocking flying chess pieces from his keeper position, Hermione was dueling Muggle-style with a quill, and Ginny sent cursed bat bogeys at multiple suitors, some of whom looked exactly like Cormac McLaggen.
"Harry, someone will notice us like this…"
"No, they're all looking up at your brothers' brilliant creations. Besides, I cast a subtle Notice-me-not over us, so they'll have to look really hard to even see us."
She leaned back and turned to kiss him. "You think of everything."
"I do what I can," he whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her body.
"Better stop doing that, or we'll be seeing just how good your charms are."
"I'm very charming, I'll have you know."
"Harry?"
"Yeah, Gin?"
"Shut up and watch the fireworks."
o o o
The Sunday after New Year's meant flooing back to Hogwarts. Most of the student body, notably missing a few older Slytherins, spent the afternoon pummeling each other in a free-for-all snowball fight. Alliances were made and fell apart, and everyone had loads of fun getting soaked and cold and briefly forgetting that their world was at war with itself.
Harry couldn't remember having so much fun with so many.
He stole up to his dorm room to get a hot shower and dry clothes before dinner. Wearing only a towel, he walked by his wardrobe and spotted the cauldron cakes Ginny had given him for Christmas. Taking one for a quick snack, he ate the delectable treat as he finished dressing. He was tying his trainers when he began to feel off - he was floating, visions of an enticing girl formed in his mind, and the desire to ravish her became overwhelming. He tried to think of Ginny, but her face kept morphing into a different one, one that was looking more attractive all the time.
The rational part of his brain that still functioned grabbed the Elder Wand off his bed and pointed it at the cakes. A shrill tone told him everything he needed to know.
"Ron, are you here? Anyone? I need help!"
o o o
Ron sat next to Harry on his usual bed in the Hogwarts hospital wing. Hermione and Ginny perched on the next bed over.
"Thanks for leading me down here, mate. That was so strange - almost like I was under the Imperius, but not exactly."
"No worries, mate, glad to help. So Pomphrey said it was a love potion? Do you know who it was?"
"Oh, yeah," Harry said darkly. "It was Romilda Vane. She must have snuck into the dorm and either spiked those cakes or swapped them out."
"Remember I warned you about her?" said Ginny.
"Yeah," Harry groaned. "Mad-Eye is gonna go berserk, yelling 'Constant vigilance' in my face for an hour -"
"I can't believe she did that knowing how much trouble she would be in," said Hermione. "It's like she either didn't know or didn't care."
"Well, you guys are prefects. I think it may be time for a house meeting."
"You missed dinner, Harry, so you need to finish your soup first," said Hermione. "Give me a bit to talk to McGonagall and I'll inform the others."
"We'll see you in the common room."
o o o
The prefects had all Gryffindor House gathered in anticipation when Harry, Ginny and Ron climbed through the portrait hole into the common room. While Harry normally garnered a lot of attention, the stormy looks on their faces caused a wave of anxious curiosity to flow through the other students.
Harry paused only long enough to spot his targets, the giggling gaggle of fourth year girls, who also quieted nervously as the Boy-Who-Lived made purposeful strides in their direction, then was suddenly towering over them.
"Congratulations, Miss Vane," he said with a bitter chill to the now cowering Romilda, "you have my attention - the same kind of attention that I give to anyone I consider a threat. I'm not sure that's what you had in mind, but we don't always get what we want, do we, Miss Vane?"
He turned away. 'Hermione?" he said, signaling for her turn.
"Romilda Vane, for using a mind control potion on a fellow student you are hereby issued six weeks detention with our head of house and you are banned from Hogsmeade visits and other extracurricular activities for the remainder of the year."
While the guilty girl seemed on the verge of tears, Ron added his own piece of mind.
"You crazy bints better be glad it was Harry you potioned - that he can throw off the Imperius and apparently love potions too."
"Yes," said Hermione, "if you had been successful in your little endeavor, let's say you were able to get pregnant by him - oh, don't be so indignant, you know that's where it would lead! If that did happen, since Harry is the only heir to his family, you would be accused of line theft. If found guilty, you would be expelled and give birth in Azkaban. The Wizengamot would determine the fate of the baby that is no longer yours."
"And not many people know this," Harry added in an ominously low growl that penetrated the heavy blanket of silence that now covered the entire room, "but our current dark lord got his start exactly like that - a young witch with a silly infatuation and love potions. Who knows if he would still be a psychopath if he hadn't been raised in a Muggle orphanage? Are you trying to find out, Miss Vane?"
Wide eyes streaming, Romilda shook her head in denial.
While most recoiled in horror at the thought of creating a new dark lord, a few were skeptical.
"You-Know-Who grew up in an orphanage? How would you know that?"
Harry turned towards the voice - Cormac McLaggen, of course. "I only know because Dumbledore told me, and he knows because that's where he delivered the kid's letter when he was eleven, to tell him he was a wizard and had a place at Hogwarts. What, did you think he had always been an adult? Hell, even Dumbledore was once a kid like us, studying to learn magic and hanging out with his friends on a Sunday night in this very room, just like you are right now.
"They had choices, just like you do - so, choose… wisely."
And without another look at anyone, he launched himself up the stairs to his room.
All of Gryffindor house sat looking at each other, contemplating what had just transpired and what they just learned.
o