Despite having gotten rid of Dumbledore over the matter, Umbridge was not remotely satisfied with leaving Harry and his friends well enough alone. Every time Harry snuck past the entrance to the Room of Requirement — always under his invisibility cloak — there was at least one member of the Inquisitorial Squad waiting outside it.
She knew Harry wouldn't give up so easily, and she was determined to catch him in the act. Every day in classes and at meals and between lessons, Harry found himself on the receiving end of a dozen intent looks; all HA members wondering if this was it, if they were finally finished. Harry merely shook his head slightly, and carried on. He would find a way.
With all of them under such close scrutiny, the heirs couldn't meet either. This was mostly fine, as they had only been studying the last few times, but it was still annoying to have his social groups so limited by Umbridge's bug-eyed ever-present stare.
But Harry wouldn't let it stop him. He knew far more secrets within Hogwarts than Dolores Umbridge could dream of knowing.
"I won't tell anyone about the office," Harry hissed in promise — even though Salazar had admitted to speaking fluent modern English, he still insisted they converse in Parseltongue. "But unless you know of any better ideas for a space big enough for fifty-six people to cast spells without getting caught, the Chamber is my best option."
Salazar, to Harry's surprise, gave a hard smirk, his eyes glinting. "Harry, lad; the four of us built Hogwarts to rebel against a form of government that wanted magic to remain secret, taught only between master and apprentice," he pointed out. "Rebelling against the government is what we're all about! Of course you can bring your friends down here, as long as they do not leave the main Chamber itself. They cannot explore without you, after all."
He was right; Harry had long ago closed the gaping mouth of the statue of Salazar Slytherin, and he knew the hissed command that would lock down every exit in the main room. There were no other Parselmouths in the school to go against him.
He beamed up at the founder. "Brilliant."
The next evening, after his detention with Umbridge, Harry went up to his dorm and reached into his bedside drawer for a particular inkwell. A few quiet questions had enlightened him to the quidditch practice times, and he wanted to move as quickly as possible. He raised his wand, carefully etching a short phrase into the silver plate on the bottom.
'Thursday 7PM. Library, row 82'
There. That would certainly keep them guessing.
.-.
In the morning, he was ambushed by Ginny as soon as he and Neville entered the common room. "We can't do it in the library!" she hissed, her sentence earning raised eyebrows from a couple of sixth-years walking past at the time. Harry flushed despite himself. "Pince will have our heads!"
"It's not exactly hiding," Neville agreed doubtfully. Harry grinned at them both.
"The pair of you, no faith at all," he said mock-sadly, shaking his head. "We aren't going to do anything in the library. That's just the least suspicious place for everyone to go in the evening." Umbridge couldn't ban students from the library, not so close to exams.
"So what, you just wanted to talk to everyone?" Ginny asked, brows furrowed. Again, Harry shook his head.
"I have a place we can go, and we can get there from the library. It's a little… unorthodox. But it's more secure than even the Room was."
All of a sudden, Ginny stopped in her tracks, realisation dawning on her face. "Harry, tell me you didn't," she murmured, voice wavering.
"It's not scary anymore, Gin, I promise," he assured her, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "I swear; I cleaned it up, there's no trace of it all left, and I wouldn't be taking anyone down there if I weren't absolutely confident of that." He'd even scrubbed off the black ink stain on the floor.
Ginny bit her lip. "You're absolutely sure?"
"Positive," he swore without hesitation. "You won't be alone down there, Gin. Not again."
Neville was following the whole exchange, confused and a little bit suspicious. When he opened his mouth, both Harry and Ginny shook their heads; they couldn't talk about it, even in a corridor that seemed empty.
They could never be sure when people were listening.
Ginny wasn't the only one with questions, but the rest of the HA were wisely keeping them to themselves over breakfast, Umbridge sat upon Dumbledore's old throne-like seat, smiling down at them like a medieval queen wondering which of her servants to behead next.
Harry kept his rage quietly burning through the day, right up until dinner time. Neville bid goodbye to head off to his detention, looking extra morose — he was going to be missing the HA meeting. Harry felt bad about it, but he knew Neville understood; they had to move quickly. They couldn't afford to wait two whole weeks for both of them to be done with their detentions.
Harry went about his evening as if it were any other, hitching his schoolbag over his shoulder and walking towards the library with his hands in his pockets. He looked like any other student, headed to get some studying done, and no one looked twice at him when he entered the library. Except for the other members of the HA, some of whom were already there, waiting.
He took his time perusing the shelves, slowly making his way back into the lesser-used parts of the library, right back to row 82, which contained old copies of the Daily Prophet for historical purposes.
At the end of the row was a small alcove set with a window, and Harry approached it. On the left side wall of the alcove, there was a Hogwarts crest engraved. Below that crest was a tiny little snake.
Harry checked his watch, then cast a wandless Notice-Me-Not charm; just a gentle one. Just enough that anyone who was not expecting to see him would look right past that row of shelves.
Then he hissed quietly, and the wall became a doorway, just narrow enough to fit a single person.
Harry stood in the doorway, and waited.
Unsurprisingly, the twins and Ginny were the first to show up. All three brown-eyed Weasleys looked guarded, making Harry wonder if Ginny had told the twins what to expect. Harry discreetly waved them over.
"It's down there, then?" Ginny asked, looking a bit green. Harry nodded.
"I promise you, it's safe."
"Come on, little sis," George crowed quietly, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "Trust Harry. This is wicked!"
The twins joked and cajoled Ginny into the narrow passage, but Harry didn't miss how both of them had tight grips on their wands, ready to defend their sister from anything that might be lurking in the Chamber.
He wished he'd had a little more time, to perhaps give Ginny a chance to face her demons quietly, but he hadn't wanted her to dwell on it too long. Going down there and getting straight into a HA lesson would keep her mind off the last time she'd been down there.
A small cluster of Ravenclaws led by Cho Chang was next, and Cho still looked guilty, though Marietta was notably absent. Harry nodded to them all, and stepped aside to let them squeeze into the passageway. "Keep going, all the way to the end. The twins and Ginny are down there already."
The whole group looked relieved to hear they would be welcomed at the end, lighting up their wand tips and heading down. Already, the next group was approaching from the end of the aisle, and Harry was glad to see the Hufflepuff seventh-years removing Dissilusionment charms from themselves. While it was not suspect for so many students to be in the library, it would be very odd for them all to disappear into the same row and not return for hours.
He trusted in the HA's discretion, by now.
A steady trickle of students continued, and by quarter-past Harry was fairly sure everyone was in. Anyone else clearly wasn't coming; Harry wouldn't wait around for them forever. He stepped into the passage, closed it with a hiss, and hurried to catch up with his friends.
He couldn't help but grin at the sight of the whole group spread around the Chamber, looking around in a mix of awe and horror.
"So, what do you think?" he asked with a mischievous grin, spreading his arms wide.
"Is this what I think it is, Harry?" Blaise asked, his dark eyes incredulous. Harry laughed.
"If you're thinking it's Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets, then yes, it is. Did all the snakes give it away?"
A few squeaks of terror sounded.
"The Chamber of Secrets is real?" Zacharias Smith blurted, face pale as he looked up at the statue. "I— but what about the monster?"
"Harry killed that, didn't he?" Fred pointed out. "With that big old sword in Dumbledore's office."
"I thought I'd told you guys what happened in my second year?" Harry asked, confused. Several people shrugged, and more than a few glanced at Ginny Weasley.
"Not really," Justin piped up. "Just something about a big snake and saving Ginny from being possessed by You-Know-Who."
Ah, of course; Harry had given the bare minimum, not wanting any information to slip out that might lead anyone on the Dark side to realise what the diary was. Likely Voldemort already knew one of his horcruxes had been destroyed — Lucius Malfoy would have had to own up to it eventually — but the fewer other people who knew, the better. "Well, it's real. There was a basilisk but it's dead now. So we're good to practice in here. Though I'll warn you now," he added, and hissed the command to lock down the Chamber. All over the walls, huge snakes wriggled in place, barring the exits. Several people jumped. "I'm the only one who can command the passageways in here. I'll let us all out in the same place we came in from, but if anyone was thinking about going exploring, I would strongly advise against it. I'm not so arrogant as to think I've discovered all of the secrets down here, and I don't want you getting hurt."
He was sure Salazar still had a few that he wasn't sharing, the sneaky bastard.
"So." He clapped his hands together, determined to get them all on track before they could freak out too much about the new surroundings. "Back to Patronus charms, then?"
Umbridge certainly wasn't going to find them down there.
.-.-.-.
Sirius wanted to punch something. He stalked through the corridors of Grimmauld, restlessness coursing through his veins. He hadn't been outside since Dumbledore had fled Hogwarts; the old man had practically moved in to Grimmauld Place, showing up at all hours, sometimes with nothing in particular to say — like he was checking to see Sirius was where he was supposed to be. It was utterly galling, being checked on like a recalcitrant child, and Sirius desperately wished he could give the man a piece of his mind.
But he couldn't, because they were still pretending they didn't hate the manipulative bastard.
Fleeing Hogwarts in such a courageous move and letting the media paint him as the driving force behind the students learning to defend themselves had done nothing but strengthen Dumbledore's reputation as protector of the Light, to the point where Sirius was beginning to wonder if he hadn't orchestrated the whole thing himself. The man no longer had to worry about the students, or Umbridge breathing down his neck, and there was no auror in Fudge's pocket actually capable of arresting the great Albus Dumbledore.
As long as the headmaster made sure to look sad and express how awful he felt about leaving the school vulnerable — though assuring that Minerva had everything in hand until he could return — everyone ate it up. Sirius wanted to strangle him.
"Hey." He whipped around at the whisper, raising his eyebrows at the sight of Charlie Weasley, dimples and all, leaning in a nearby doorway with mischief in his eyes. Sirius' heart thudded painfully. "You busy?"
"Do I look busy?" Sirius retorted, a little sharper than necessary. It didn't bother Charlie, who held out a hand.
"Come here, I want to show you something."
It took less hesitation than it probably ought to for Sirius to slip his hand into the dragon-tamer's calloused one, letting the shorter man drag him up the stairs and down the left hand corridor. Sirius' brow furrowed in confusion when Charlie opened the door to the formal dining room. It was the largest room in the house, used for parties and the like when Sirius had been a child, and Sirius hadn't stepped foot in it since he'd ripped all the wallpaper down and painted it pale gold. What could Charlie possibly want to show him in there?
The redhead just grinned at the look on his face, tugging him over to the tall window. It was dark outside, the half-moon shining brightly.
Then, to Sirius' surprise, Charlie pulled out his wand and tapped it against the centre of the window. Suddenly, the glass flexed, stretching outward, melting down until Sirius was looking at a small balcony, barely big enough for two people to stand on. "Tonks showed me the trick," Charlie revealed. "Said her mum told her about it. They used to do it at parties, for all the people smoking cigars."
Sirius remembered, now; being a child, seeing a cluster of people all gathered around the open window, plumes of multi-coloured smoke drifting into the air.
He stepped forward, and the gentle breeze ruffling his hair made his eyes flutter shut in ecstasy. "That's not even the best part," Charlie whispered, suddenly very close to Sirius, his breath tickling the man's stubbled cheek. "Watch this."
Charlie stepped onto the balcony, turned to the side, and reached up. Then he was gone. Sirius hurried out after him, turning around to see the redhead climbing the stonework up to the roof. Once he was sat on the edge, he beamed down at Sirius. "Come on up! It's gorgeous out."
Sirius couldn't refuse a challenge like that, and soon he was gripping the decorative gargoyles and hauling himself up onto the roof beside Charlie. There wasn't much space for both of them to sit, so they ended up pressed close together, Charlie's arm braced around Sirius' back. He was warm, always so warm — constantly joking that working around dragons made him run too hot — and just having him so close was making Sirius' head swim. Combined with the air on his face, the feeling of finally being outside… it was a heady sensation, bubbling away in Sirius' belly. "Sometimes I come up here when I want to think," Charlie admitted. "It's quiet, and the muggles can't see. I wish you could see the stars, though." This deep in London, the sky was far too thick with pollution to see much of anything. "You should see the sky at the reserve. It's incredible."
He spoke quietly, his wonder palpable. "Do you know many constellations?" Sirius asked abruptly, and Charlie shook his head.
"Nah, I was never good at Astronomy," he admitted. "I liked the ones that were shaped like animals but I was rubbish at finding them."
A chuckle rumbled through Sirius' chest. "One of these days, when I can, you should take me out to the reserve to see this incredible sky of yours. I can show you all the constellations. Bit of an Astronomy expert, me."
"Name like Sirius, I'd expect nothing less," Charlie teased. He shifted, and in a move that was entirely too smooth for Sirius' liking, the hand splayed on the tiles behind him slid across to cover Sirius', tangling their fingers together. It moved Charlie even closer, the pair of them practically cuddling. "Would you really come to the reserve with me?"
"Wide open space, full of dragons?" Sirius retorted. "Sounds perfect." He was starting to forget what actual nature looked like.
"It's a date, then," Charlie murmured. He let his head fall forward, nose brushing Sirius' ear. "Please say it's a date."
Sirius' chest ached at the earnest hope straining his voice. It had been weeks, months even, and Charlie Weasley wasn't giving up on him. "I don't know what you see in me," he confessed quietly. "I don't… I don't know how to do this anymore."
"There's lots of things I see in you," Charlie said. "You're funny, you're clever, you've got a fantastic arse," he added, dimples returning for a moment. "But I think the thing that really hooked me was seeing how much you care about Harry. Us Weasleys, we're all about family, y'know. People thought I was the odd duck because I buggered off to Romania, but… it's just a different kind of family, out there. You're the kind of man that would do anything to make that kid's shitty life better, even if it made you miserable. That kind of devotion… it's an attractive trait, that."
And oh, that hurt, because if Charlie had just talked about his arse more, or even his sense of humour, Sirius might have been able to brush him off as a young man looking for a challenge, a boyfriend more interesting than the last. But to talk that way about him, about Harry… Charlie had seen him, in ways most others didn't. "I'm older than you," he reminded, and Charlie scoffed.
"Only twelve years."
"Twelve years I spent in Azkaban," Sirius pointed out, voice getting sharp again.
"So mentally we're the same age, then," Charlie reasoned, grinning ever so slightly. Sirius shot him a look.
"I was shit at relationships even before I spent time in that hellhole," he said flatly. "Ask Remus. I… I don't know if I can be what you want me to be."
"Won't know until you try, will you?" Charlie said, unfazed. "I reckon you'll be a lot better at it than you think you will."
"I don't know how to love anymore, since the dementors."
"Bullshit," Charlie retorted, not even hesitating. "You love Harry. You love Remus. You love Tonks. You love blackberry crumble in a way that's more than a little bit obscene, quite frankly." He grinned, eyes glowing in the moonlight, and Sirius could hardly breathe, "You know how to love, Sirius Black, and we both know it. You're just scared of it. And of all the things I've learned about you in the last year, I never took you for a coward."
There was a challenge, bright in his blue gaze; the kind of challenge that set Sirius' blood afire.
"And if you're talking euphemistically, well; I've taught more than a few people how to love, and I'd be very happy to remind you of the finer details," he drawled huskily, dry lips pressing feather-light against Sirius' jaw.
Something deep inside Sirius broke. All of a sudden, his free hand was cupping the side of Charlie's face, pulling him into a deep, filthy kiss. It wasn't their first, not by a long shot — but it was the first Sirius had initiated. Charlie moaned deeply into his mouth, gripping Sirius' shoulder for purchase, his tongue doing truly sinful things.
"You win," Sirius admitted in a raw, ragged whisper, once they parted. "You persistent little shit, you win. But don't blame me when I break your heart." It would take a stronger man than him to keep denying this beautiful man, this man who seemed so determined — determined not only to woo him, but that Sirius was truly someone worth wooing. And Sirius wanted it, so deep down it hurt his soul, he always had — he'd dated his way through Hogwarts, always desperately seeking the kind of connection James had with Lily, the connection he later learned Remus had with Snape. He wasn't lying when he said he thought the dementors had destroyed his ability to form a connection like that. But Charlie Weasley made him want to find out for sure.
Charlie kissed him again, running fingers through his hair. "The only way you'll break my heart is if we get off this roof and you tell me you've changed your mind," he breathed. Sirius smirked into the kiss.
"Why don't we get off this roof and find out, then?"
Truly, he was amazed neither of them fell and broke their necks, the way they were so eager to climb down to the balcony. But they made it, Charlie's fingers like brands as they chased Sirius' bare skin, sneaking up his shirt as soon as both of them had two feet on solid ground. Sirius' heart was racing like it hadn't in years, he felt alive, he felt wanted, he felt like if he didn't get Charlie on a flat surface in the next ten minutes he might combust from the force of his arousal. He pinned the redhead against the wall, devouring his mouth, and Charlie groaned loudly.
"Knew it would be hot when you finally pushed back," he declared smugly, eyes bright. "Fuck, that feels so good," he said, pressing up against Sirius' body. One of his hands snuck down to squeeze just the right side of too-hard on the bulge in Sirius' jeans. "Was starting to wonder if this had fallen off from lack of use."
"Cheeky fuck," Sirius growled, pulling back and grabbing the redhead's wrist, hurrying him towards the door. "I'll show you fallen off."
"Yes, please."
Thankfully, they weren't disturbed as they snuck up to Sirius' room, and a silencing ward hit the door as soon as it was closed. Sirius stared as Charlie shamelessly began to strip, revealing tanned, freckled skin and a number of detailed tattoos. A good number of burns and scars, too; Sirius couldn't wait to get his mouth on every single one of them.
Not one to be outdone, Sirius pulled his shirt over his head, enormously glad for Ceri's insistence on over-feeding him in the last two years. He was a far cry from the skeletal figure he'd been when he escaped; still a little skinny, but with more muscle, a healthy flush to his olive complexion.
Certainly nothing to be ashamed of, especially the way Charlie was looking at him, both of them stood naked in Sirius' room. "Get on that bed, right now," Charlie said huskily, pupils blown with lust. "I've been waiting far too bloody long for this."
Sirius didn't need telling twice, practically launching himself onto the bed, reaching greedily for Charlie. The first press of warm skin against his own had his vision almost whiting out, the simple feeling so incredible he could hardly stand it. "Fuck, touch me," he begged. "Don't care where, just— your skin, so good."
"I've got you, sweetheart," Charlie assured, hands somehow everywhere at once on Sirius' body, his bulky form pressing him down on the mattress — comforting, not suffocating, grounding him to reality, the only thing stopping him vibrating out of his own skin, Charlie's lips whispering words of affection between open-mouthed kisses down his neck and collarbone. He was so warm, Sirius wanted him all over, warming all the parts of him he'd thought Azkaban had turned cold forever.
Sirius whimpered, a sound he might've been embarrassed by if he hadn't lost control of himself entirely, so overwhelmed by the contact. For a second he thought he might be too overwhelmed, and tensed up in fear — Charlie immediately pulled back, still whispering to him, still touching him but not quite so much.
"I forgot it could feel like this," Sirius gasped, utterly broken. He might have been crying, it felt so good. He was probably embarrassing himself, probably making Charlie regret the whole decision. What kind of thirty-six year-old man couldn't handle being touched while naked? Charlie hadn't even laid a finger on his cock yet!
"Oh, sweetheart. Sirius," Charlie murmured, still there, still looking at him with so much adoration in his eyes, more than Sirius could handle. "I'm going to make you feel so good, I promise, baby steps." His hand stroked Sirius' flank, his powerful thighs still tangled with Sirius' slimmer legs. "I'll take care of you, I swear, fuck, you're so beautiful. Never thought you'd actually let me do this."
His touch was reverent, his kisses like molten gold, and it didn't surprise Sirius when he tipped over the edge of bliss with a full-body shudder, going boneless in Charlie's embrace. The redhead moaned, pressing him down into the mattress once more as Sirius' hands scrabbled at his back, urging him closer, needing that weight to cover him before he floated away entirely.
When sense slowly returned, his cheeks were burning, and he could hardly look Charlie in the eye. "Sorry," he muttered. "Probably not what you were expecting." His first time being intimate with another person in fifteen years, he should've expected a bit of an overload, but he hadn't anticipated a full fucking breakdown and the most premature orgasm he'd had since puberty!
"Are you kidding?" Charlie whispered, stroking Sirius' damp cheeks. "That was amazing. You're amazing." He propped himself up on his elbows, his erection digging into Sirius' thigh. "I could get addicted to watching you enjoy yourself, Sirius Black."
Something fierce in Sirius' heart lurched to the surface, and part of him knew he was done for there and then. "Well, I might be a bit… sensitive, but I've never left a lover unsatisfied, and I don't intend to start now," he remarked, shifting his hips a little and moving upwards, clenching Charlie's cock between his thighs, whispering a quiet Lubrication charm to ease movement. Charlie's eyes rolled back, a purring groan spilling from his lips. Sirius held his breath, enraptured, watching the redhead fuck his thighs with abandon, pleasure written all over his face.
Charlie wasn't the only one who might get addicted.
.-.-.-.-.
The school was rapidly becoming something of a war zone. After almost an entire school year with Umbridge looming over them, having her become headmistress was the last straw for so many; or perhaps it was her unseating of Dumbledore that had the students so shaken. Either way, there was something… feral about the Hogwarts student body, these days. The Weasley twins were happily in the centre of it all, and business was booming for the pair as they sold their inventions to kids all over the school. Students were dropping from DADA lessons like flies with some ailment or another, and Umbridge knew it was not natural illness but didn't seem to be able to catch any culprits. Subtle rebellions against her ridiculous rules were everywhere; untucked shirts, holding hands in hallways, copies of the Quibbler — new copies, entirely unrelated to Harry Potter, but still banned — turning up in Umbridge's classroom and office and even, reportedly, in her private rooms.
Harry thought it was brilliant, though he didn't have much to contribute himself; all his anti-Umbridge energy was going towards keeping the HA running, and making sure everyone who needed it learned how to do the necessary charms after a Blood Quill detention session. The day after his own detentions had finished, he came across a pair of second years with bleeding hands in the common room — Umbridge had procured more of the blasted quills, obviously frustrated at how slow it was to punish only one student at a time.
And then the invitation came.
"Potter!" It was Filch, shuffling down the corridor in Harry's direction, a twisted look of glee on his face. "The headmistress wants to see you!"
"What for?" Harry asked warily. He was with the Weasley twins, who stood either side of him with their arms folded intimidatingly, and Filch stopped abruptly. But then he smirked again.
"You'll soon find out, won't you?" He looked positively joyous, and that was definitely not a good sign. "Reckon you two will finally get what's coming to you, and all," he added, glancing at the two redheads.
Silently assuring the pair he would be fine, Harry followed Filch down the corridor, dread trickling down his spine as the caretaker muttered about the new Decree coming that would allow him to reintroduce corporal punishment. Was Umbridge bored of her quill, finally? Of only punishing one student at a time? Or was she just trying to get Filch on her side; his knowledge of the castle was far better than her own, after all. She probably thought she could use him to try and smoke out the HA. The idea made Harry smile to himself — did she really think him that naive?
Filch led him all the way to Umbridge's office — Dumbledore's had sealed itself since shortly after the man's departure, and wouldn't open no matter how many curses Umbridge flung at the gargoyle. When he knocked, the door opened immediately, and Harry was half-shoved into the familiar room. Filch gave him one last oily smile, then left them to it.
"You wanted to see me, Professor?" Harry asked politely. Umbridge smiled, her eyes like daggers.
"Sit down, Mr Potter. Have some tea."
At the doily-covered desk where he usually wrote lines, there was a single cup of tea. Harry began to draw his own conclusions, watching the way Umbridge stared keenly at his hands around the cup.
"I just thought I'd call you in for a little chat," she said, giggling girlishly. "Drink up!"
Harry lifted the teacup to his mouth, and pretended to take a long drink. As he did, he Vanished half the contents of the cup. When it hit the table, Umbridge's gaze lit up. "Excellent. Now, tell me — where is Albus Dumbledore?"
That was her angle, really?? "I don't know, Professor."
Her jaw clenched. "Drink your tea, Mr Potter."
Amused, Harry pretended to drink again, Vanishing the rest and setting his empty cup down. He even let his stare go a little vacant.
"Where is Albus Dumbledore?"
"I don't know," he said again. A tiny noise of frustration escaped Umbridge.
"Has he written to you? Contacted you in any way?"
"No, Professor." She didn't like that answer any more than the last. She made a face like sucking on a lemon, and leaned forward in her chair.
"Who is in your little defence club?"
"I don't have a defence club," Harry told her.
"Impossible!" she screeched, glaring. "I know you've been hiding it from me! Where are you meeting your little friends?"
"I study with Neville and Ginny in the common room," Harry answered, keeping his tone even. "And sometimes I do homework with my other yearmates in the library."
"That's not what I meant and you know it!" Umbridge hissed, wild-eyed in her anger. "Let's try another question — where is the criminal Sirius Black?"
Harry didn't even need to bother lying about that one; before he could open his mouth, a huge explosion rocked the castle. The colour drained from Umbridge's face, and she shot to her feet.
The sound of screams began to echo through the castle. For one horrified moment, Harry wondered if Death Eaters had attacked, taking Dumbledore's absence as a sign of weakness.
"Back to lunch, Potter!" Umbridge yelled, already hurrying from the office. Harry gave her a small head start, then left after her, wand in hand. It soon became all too clear what the source of the chaos was.
There were fireworks everywhere. By the time Harry reached the top of the main staircase, there was a riot of sparks in all colours and shapes filling the air; huge dragons made of coloured fire that roared as they shot off smaller fireworks; whizzing Catherine wheels screeching as they spun through the air; rockets trailing sparks as they soared higher through the castle. It was an endless supply, all originating from the Entrance Hall, and Harry had a very good idea who had done it.
The fireworks lasted through the entire rest of the day — thanks largely in part to the array of spells on them that had them multiplying or changing shape whenever anyone tried to vanish them.
And, of course, thanks to the rest of the staff, who seemed largely unconcerned by the displays. And with all the Educational Decrees about what was within their proper authority to handle, many of them seemed perfectly happy to summon Umbridge whenever they came across a firework, rather than disposing of it themselves. In Transfiguration, Harry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing as McGonagall continued to teach despite the purple dragon shooting around the classroom, which she had sent Lavender to go alert Umbridge of. The sweaty, soot-blackened headmistress appeared and raised her wand feebly, clearly exhausted from the whole affair. Everyone was talking about it at dinner, and everyone seemed to know who the culprits were. Not that Fred and George were really trying to hide it, promising that their full line of fireworks would be for sale in the summer, and people could pre-order now.
A hush fell over the hall when the headmistress finally staggered in, her lurid pink robe slightly charred at the edges, her hair entirely in disarray. "Weasley! Weasley!" she called, and four heads of red hair popped up at the Gryffindor table. "Not you two," she snapped dismissively at Ginny and Ron.
"Can we help you, Headmistress?" Fred asked politely, eyes dancing. A vein in Umbridge's temple pulsed.
"You can count your lucky stars I'm not having you expelled for this little stunt," she snapped. "But don't you think you've gotten away with it. Two weeks detention, both of you. And no more quidditch!"
That made the twins sit up a little straighter. "What?"
"That's right!" Umbridge was almost delirious in her fury. "You're clearly cut from the same cloth as Potter, so you'll suffer the same punishments! And be very careful how you conduct yourself over the next few weeks, boys," she warned, before stalking off to her seat, waving her wand angrily at a bright orange firework whizzing through the air above the Hufflepuff table.
The twins looked at each other in dismay. A few seats over, Angelina got abruptly to her feet, hands clenched in rage, and stormed from the hall.
A few horrified seconds later, the entire Gryffindor quidditch team was up and following her — and Harry, too, even though he wasn't technically part of the team any longer.
They caught up to Angelina in the Gryffindor common room, where she was repeatedly punching a cushion. In the corner, a sparkler was writing rude words in the air.
"Angie, we're sorry," Fred started, and Angelina whirled around, expression furious.
"Don't," she growled. "I'm not mad at you. The fireworks were fucking brilliant. I'm mad at that bitch." There were tear-tracks on her cheeks, and as Fred edged closer, her shoulders slumped. "This was supposed to be our year," she despaired. "You two, me, Alicia; one last year to win the cup, to play together before we graduate and life takes over. It was bad enough when she kicked Harry off, but this…" She sniffed noisily, "One more match. We only had one more match together before it would all be over, and she's fucking ruined everything!"
She punched the cushion one more time, so hard it split open and spewed feathers everywhere. Fred hurried forward, wrapping his arms around her.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmured, kissing the tears off her cheeks. "Angie, it's okay. We'll play together again. Maybe not like this — not as students, not as Gryffindor. But we'll be a team again. You're not getting rid of me or George any time soon." He grinned, and she laughed wetly.
"I just really wanted this last year to be perfect," she sobbed, "and it's all gone to shit!"
Harry stood back awkwardly as the twins and Alicia crowded around their yearmate, hugging her tightly. There was nothing he could say, really; Umbridge might have ruined the whole year, but at least he had two more. Sure, his school years rarely went to plan, but he was an oddity there. He could understand Angelina's desire to have a perfect final year of school; especially with how grim the outside world was looking.
"It's only Ravenclaw, Angie," Alicia comforted, attempting a smile. "The boys aren't missing much."
Angelina snorted. "Easy enough to say; we've got to find two new beaters and get them ready in the next three weeks."
"You'll find them," Harry said supportively. "Even if they're shit, you girls are so great it won't matter."
"I bloody hope so," Angelina groused. "I might not be able to play my last match with my boys," and she looked over pointedly, including Harry in that statement, "but you can be damned sure I'm going to win it anyway."
The whole team cheered at that, and Fred gave Angelina a sweet kiss. "We did warn you we might not stick around 'til the match," he murmured, getting comfortable with her on the sofa, while George sank into the armchair. Harry perched on the arm, leaning back against the space beside George's head.
"I know, but I thought you'd make it. And at the very least, I thought it would be because you'd gone, not because that hag banned you." She kicked off her shoes, tucking her legs up beneath her. "What made you do the fireworks today, anyway? I thought you were saving that one."
The twins shared a look, then looked up at Harry.
"She pulled me into her office," Harry volunteered. "Tried to interrogate me. I think she drugged my tea, but I didn't drink it. She seemed pretty angry that I wouldn't tell her about the HA, or where Dumbledore was."
Angelina's face screwed up in disgust. "What a cow. Did she hurt you?"
Harry shook his head. "Fireworks went off before she could do more than ask questions." He wasn't so naive to think she wouldn't have resorted to violence, if she thought it necessary.
"Good," George said quietly, resting his head against Harry's shoulder. "Happy to be of service."
Harry wished it hadn't gotten them banned from quidditch, but from the way their pranks had been escalating, it likely would have happened eventually. They were just lucky she didn't have enough proof to kick them out properly.
.-.-.-.
Remus let his thigh press against Severus', the pair of them sat together on a sofa at Grimmauld Place. It still felt risky, to be so close to each other anywhere but Seren Du or Severus' quarters, but Sirius had assured them the three of them were the only ones still in the house. They had just finished another Order meeting, and Sirius clearly had something to tell them.
"Dumbledore tried to break my Occlumency shields the other day," the dog animagus announced without delay. Remus cursed, and felt Severus tense beside him. "He didn't get through," Sirius hastened to assure, "but he tried, and he knows I'm blocking him. He's suspicious."
"Do you know what he was searching for?" Severus asked intently.
"I think he was looking to see if I'd been in contact with Harry," Sirius replied, frowning. "But honestly, it could be anything. He's making it nigh on impossible for me to do anything, these days. He's around here so often, I haven't been home since he left the school."
Remus' heart clenched in sympathy; it couldn't be easy for Sirius, locked up in Grimmauld all the time. "Is there anything we can do to put him at ease?" He turned helpless eyes to Severus, whose lips were pursed in thought.
"I think we may need to accept that Albus will find out the two of you are not loyal sooner rather than later," he said eventually. Remus knew that his partner was planning on playing the triple agent for as long as physically possible. "Have you heard back from Bill at all?"
"He said the book you gave him was really helpful," Remus relayed. "That they should be able to figure out a way to get the horcrux out by summer."
Severus' shoulders twitched, the tiniest betrayal of his relief. Remus wasn't sure where the book had come from — sometimes he knew best not to ask — but he was glad Severus had found it. "I'm worried if Dumbledore pushes my shields again he might break them," Sirius admitted.
"He will expect you to avoid looking him in the eye, now he's been caught out," Severus reasoned. "It is unlikely he will try again; he may, however, find other ways of trying to question you on Potter's movements."
"If he does, he'll get a reminder that this is my bloody house, and Lord Black or not I still hold the wards," Sirius growled, eyes flashing. Remus smirked; he would quite like to see that.
"As satisfying as that would be," Severus drawled, clearly of the same mind, "need I remind you that Potter is still stuck with that hag at the school, and putting him on Albus' shit-list will not help in the slightest?"
"How bad is it there?" Sirius asked, the light in his eyes fading until he just looked weary. Remus hated that look on him, the reminder of the twelve years his friend had spent in Azkaban. It appeared less and less these days — especially with Charlie Weasley around — but when it did pop back up, it made Remus' heart grow heavy.
"The students are united against her," Severus supplied. "The Weasley twins are certainly making her life difficult. They're better than you and Potter ever were," he added with a smirk, making Sirius laugh.
"Having seen their inventions, I'll concede to that," he said. "Bloody brilliant, the pair of them. Glad to hear they're keeping Umbitch on her toes."
"How's Harry?" Remus pressed, stomach sinking when Severus looked concerned once more.
"Currently, he is well. I have it under good authority that he's started holding his little defence club sessions in the Chamber of Secrets."
Remus goggled at him. "That's…" It was either genius or madness. Perhaps both.
"Indeed," Severus agreed, eyes amused for a moment. "We shall have to see how that plays out. But Umbridge certainly isn't willing to let it go; not after he embarrassed her in front of the Minister. She asked me to provide Veritaserum for a little chat she wanted to have with him last week."
"And you told her where to shove it?" Sirius asked hopefully. Severus' lips quirked.
"I told her I would be delighted to oblige," he drawled, waiting a beat, "and I gave her a bottle of simple syrup. Salazar knows the fool woman won't bother testing it first."
Remus laughed, patting Severus' thigh. "Devious snake," he murmured fondly, ignoring the brief expression of disgust that Sirius pulled.
"Using Veritaserum on minors is enormously illegal, and no matter what free passes she has from Fudge, I will not be complicit. Even if it weren't Potter," Severus said. "There's far too many of the little idiots running around that school with secrets the Ministry mustn't learn."
That was all too true. Remus brushed a kiss on his jaw, briefly inhaling the man's comforting scent. "I'm glad the students have you looking out for them," he said. "Even if they don't realise it." No doubt they all thought the evil Dungeon Bat was on Umbridge's side, stealing all their joy.
"All the professors are doing what we can in Albus' absence," Severus said instead, not acknowledging the compliment. "With any luck, we may be able to keep them safe long enough to reach summer, when hopefully this whole mess can be put to bed for good. The students can go home and tell their parents about the gratuitous use of Blood Quills as punishment, and both Umbridge and Fudge will be out before they can say Hogwarts."
Remus desperately hoped that was the case — that would be the quietest, easiest outcome of it all.
But he knew how Harry's school years usually ended, so he didn't raise his hopes too high.