'Great,' Harry replied dryly. 'I can't even really talk to her about it because she actually does like me.'
'It's a bit of a mess,' Neville decided, helping himself to bacon. 'Ron's furious about it, of course, Dean too.'
'I take it they blame me.'
Neville shrugged, his mouth full of bacon. 'I'm not sure,' he answered when he'd swallowed, 'but probably.'
The other Gryffindors from his year, brushed past them and went to sit with Katie and the twins, Ginny was in their midst, sheltered from the room. Evidently Neville was the only one who was concerned how he was reacting to the article. 'Fuck it,' he said, just loudly enough to carry down the table. 'I'm going to Defence, maybe I can charm Umbridge into loving me too.' There were a few smiles and chuckles, but nobody looked down at him and he had to bite his tongue at the unfairness. He'd been the subject of the article too, but that didn't seem to matter all that much to them.
He dropped his cutlery on his plate and swept out of the Great Hall. It was almost a shame Malfoy had avoided speaking to him since his stay in the hospital wing, he could use a target to let off some steam at.
Harry was the first student to Umbridge's lesson, though he took his usual seat at the back and pretended that the Pink Professor wasn't in the room eyeing him malignantly.
The other students joined him after a long ten minutes of ignoring her. 'Wands away,' she simpered. Harry bit back a laugh, as if any of them had even bothered to get their wands out to begin with. 'This lesson we will be discussing the theory of dark magic and why it is so dangerous to practise.'
Some of the class perked up, surprised to have their low expectations exceeded for once. The lesson had been supposed to be on theory, which really boiled down to Umbridge making them copy from another book while making sure anyone who seemed to be resisting her authority found themselves in detention for one reason or another.
'Dark magic is labelled by the Ministry as some of the most dangerous magic in existence,' the Pink Professor began girlishly. 'There are a whole list of reasons that lead to spells being classified as dark, but the underlying similarity is that they are corruptive.' Her wide, vicious eyes came to rest on Harry, who was watching her curiously, waiting to see how she would twist this into Ministry propaganda.
'A wizard who practises or is exposed to dark magic becomes addicted to it,' Harry resisted the urge to sigh at the nonsense she was spewing, 'they are twisted and changed until they become dangerous, intolerable individuals with no respect for authority, society or morals.'
Umbridge smiled widely. The class was silent, but everyone knew to whom was referring.
'Half-breeds and dark creatures cannot be trusted for the same reason, dark magic affects them making them dangerous and to their superiors.' Umbridge's pretentious assumption of superiority was one of the few things that he truly couldn't ignore. The first cold points of anger began to freeze in Harry's chest.
'Known dark spells to have this effect are of course spells like the Unforgivables,' her gaze retuned to Harry, 'those exposed to such magic become violent, amoral and inhuman, influencing and perverting those around them until their infection can be purged. Sadly such individuals often lead others very far astray from what could be considered proper behaviour, engaging in all sorts of lewd activities.'
The ice spread across him, flooding through his veins. Harry's fingers flexed in anger and he had to clench them shut to stop himself from doing something that might derail his plans.
We'll have our revenge, he reminded himself, smiling icily. Every insult now will make things sweeter. Harry crossed his arms casually, leaning back in his chair with feigned nonchalance and tucking his right forearm under his left, so the faint, green glow emanating from his right sleeve was no longer visible.
Ron's jaw snapped shut with an audible snap.
'Do you have something to add, Mr Weasley?' The Pink Professor inquired sweetly. Harry caught a glimpse of Ron's scarlet ears.
He's going to explode, Harry realised.
The door creaked open and Professor Dumbledore stepped into the room, catching Ron at the moment of his outburst.
'I'm afraid, Dolores,' he said with calm authority, 'that I need three of your students to come with me. They will not be returning to the lesson.' 'Might I inquire whom and why, headmaster?' Umbridge was seething, her scheme to provoke Ron and set another example had born fruit, but Dumbledore had stolen it away from her.
'You may,' the old wizard agreed amicably. A few long moments passed as he waited, a patient, serene smile on his face.
'Whom do you require?' Umbridge asked, the sweetness slipping slightly.
'Mr Weasley, Miss Granger and Mr Potter,' Dumbledore answered immediately.
Harry picked up his bag, nodded to Neville, and rose to his feet. Hermione and Ron were similarly in motion.
'Why are you removing from my lesson?' The Pink Professor inquired. 'I'm afraid that it's a family matter, Dolores, and as neither their head of house nor the headmaster I cannot discuss it with you, especially not in front of other students.' The amicable tone of the headmaster had transitioned into something much sterner. A rebuke that even Umbridge would not yet dare ignore.
A family matter.
Harry assumed that that meant something must have happened to one of the Weasleys. He had no family, and there was no reason for he or Ron to be told about anything that might have happened to Hermione's family. They'd never met.
Ginny, he thought, concerned she might have hurt, or worse, done something stupid while she was upset. 'Follow me please,' Dumbledore instructed softly, leading them to the gargoyle that led up to his office.
'Ice Mice,' he said softly to the statue, then strode swiftly up the stairs.
The three of them followed, Hermione whispering questions to Ron about his sister that the red-head ignored in favour of clenching his jaw in anxiety.
The entire Weasley family with the exception of Percy was in the office. Their faces were pale and drawn, and they turned sad, angry eyes on Harry when he entered. Ginny was among them, crying quietly, and Mrs Weasley, while dry-eyed and silent, looked like she might fall apart the moment her daughter let go of her.
'Earlier this morning, while assisting the Order in guarding something very important, Arthur Weasley lost his life.' Dumbledore's tone was grave and filled with such sorrow that Harry almost believed it sincere. 'He was attacked by Voldemort's familiar, the serpent, Nagini, outside the Department of Mysteries and died before help could reach him. I am very sorry for your loss, he was a brave, good man that we will all dearly miss.'
How many other brave, good people have died following you, Harry wondered, then he realised that meant that Riddle was after the prophecy too.
It struck him as strange, because he had already known about it in the graveyard, so Harry stood in the corner of the office, turning things over in his head, while the Weasleys mourned and Hermione rubbed Ron's shoulder comfortingly.
None of them turned to speak to him, but he caught the condemnation in the eyes of Mrs Weasley when he moved and she glanced at him, and he knew in that moment that whatever Arthur Weasley had died protecting was to do with him.
Harry felt no guilt; he stayed in his corner, feeling very distant from the sadness in the room. It had not been his decision to send Mr Weasley there, it had not been his fangs, nor his familiar that had killed him, but he was certain now that he had to get his hands on the prophecy, because it and its guardians were simply not safe.
Dumbledore folded his hands on the surface of his desk and looked down at the desk. Harry hoped he felt guilty. The prophecy was not his secret to keep or guard. It was clearly about Harry and Voldemort, it belonged to them, not Dumbledore, and certainly not any of the Weasley family who had paid the price for the old wizard's decision to protect it. I need to hear it, and then it needs to be destroyed, Harry decided.
Harry could make this work in his favour, salvaging some good from this sacrifice that Dumbledore had unnecessarily made.
At Christmas he would make sure that Fleur knew what he was doing, she didn't deserve to be kept in the dark, then he'd try and deal with Skeeter. Ginny didn't need to be trying to cope with the article at the same time as losing her father, and it would benefit everyone if Skeeter could be convinced to change her tune. It was just a matter of getting from Hogwarts into the Department of Mysteries after that. He was sure Sirius would agree that he deserved to know, especially since Harry knowing meant the prophecy could be destroyed and nobody else would then be hurt defending it.
Stick to the plan, he reminded himself, repeating the words over and over in his head. Skeeter. Sirius. Dumbledore. Umbridge. Prophecy.
He took one last glance at the grieving Weasley family and Hermione, then slipped quietly back down the stairs. He didn't spare a glance for Albus Dumbledore, the meddling, manipulative man who was so willing to sacrifice those dear to others ,but never ready to dirty his own hands.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Ready to lose yourself in an epic tale? Download the full PDF now and start reading from page one!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
https://fictiontopia.tiendup.com/