Breaking out in a cold sweat, Harry instinctively smothered a yell as he awoke in his room, his heart thumping so hard and loud he thought it might burst through his chest. Moonlight spilled through the French doors, illuminating the room in silvers and greys. As his eyes and brain adjusted to the quiet and familiarity of the room, the disturbing dream vanished in wisps that he tried to capture but they slipped through his spectral fingers like water.
Untangling himself from the bedclothes and violently kicking them away, he sat up, breathing hard, and willed his heart rate back to a steady beat, taking deep, slow breaths as his father had taught him. Why couldn’t he remember? It still left him feeling uneasy – but about what? Somehow, it didn’t seem important anymore, he decided while continuing to breathe deeply. Calming down, he padded into his loo and splashed some cool water on his face, taking time to drink some as well.
The water helped to wash away more of his lingering fear and unease and he was able to return to bed and finish out the night in a more peaceful sleep.
)O-O(
Harry weighed the mokeskin bag in his hand, tossing it up and down and feeling the weight of the galleons inside smack into his hand, imagining it smacking into his soul each and every time. This was blood money – money he had won and paid for with his own blood in order to bring back to life the murderer of his mother and stepfather.
He had finally made a decision as to what to do with the Tri-Wizard award money and he was sure it was the right decision – but he wasn’t entirely sure the rest of the Wizarding World would see it his way. But, his father had left it up to him and he was sure this was the way to go.
He smiled, content in his choice, as he tucked the magical bag in his blazer pocket and, grabbing his cloak off his bed, departed his room at the manor ready to face the academic world once again.
)O-O(
Kings Cross station was one of the busiest places in London on a normal day. Office workers, sales reps and executives running to catch trains that would take them everywhere around the United Kingdom; blaring voices from the intercoms overhead announcing arrivals and departures and lost children; trains belching steam or squealing their brakes and sounding their horns; Porters pushing large carts and trolleys overflowing with baggage, barging their way through the crowds screaming at patrons to move out of the way; conductors yelling their boarding calls into the maddening crowds, trying to herd the passengers into the waiting compartments.
Add to this the addition of the start of a new school term and the traffic became nearly unbearable. Children and their loving guardians were hurrying to find the trains that would take them away for another year of privileged learning at the nation’s best schools. Some of these students were already dressed in their school uniform, looking largely bored while waiting to board. Large trunks packed with all their belongings stood nearby while over-protective mothers wiped at non-existent stains on their progeny’s faces and fathers fidgeted nearby reeling off lists of items said progeny was supposed to have included in their packing and were they sure they had packed it all? Others were still in street attire, and they all screamed and called out in loud, enthusiastic voices as they met up with school chums they hadn’t seen for the past eight to ten weeks.
A few of the children seemed to be wearing clothing a little out of date and some of their parents looked like they were getting ready to attend a fancy dress party afterwards. These children not only had the ubiquitous schools trunks emblazoned with their names or initials and the name of their school or its crest, but almost all of them also included a cage or carrier of some kind that held an animal. And not your everyday dog or cat – although a large portion had feline companions – but they also held things like toads, rats and owls. Who, in their right mind, would have a pet owl?
All of these strange looking students and parents seemed to never go past Platform ten. But if the conductor had checked the trains on Platforms nine and ten, he would never have found the missing people – because they had disappeared half-way between.
Into this crowd, parting the hordes with her strength of character, strode an aristocratic woman in a finely tailored woollen and silk suit with three children trailing behind her. The two older boys dressed nearly like twins; slacks, blazers and button-down shirts. The differences lay in their ties – one green and silver, the other scarlet and gold – and in their looks. One was pale as moonlight and the other had hair black as midnight.
Holding her mother’s gloved hand, the youngest member matched the pale boy in looks and skipped merrily along, her eyes wide in wonder as she absorbed the sights and sounds of the busy station. Like so many others before them, the family approached the brick pylon between the two platforms and seemed to disappear from view during a belch of steam from the nearby train on Track ten.
Narcissa Malfoy checked the large clock that stood off to the side of the platform – ten-thirty. They’d arrived with enough time to spare. The boys had found an empty compartment and were already loading their trunks onboard while waiting for their friends to appear. Slowly the platform filled with more families and the members of the defence group were gravitating to the area around Draco and Harry catching up on the gossip since they’d last seen each other a week ago.
Narcissa took condolences from other Pure-blood parents concerning the loss of her husband, even as they looked askance at the two dichotomous boys entertaining their friends together. Although she kept her face closed off and was polite to everyone who approached her, inside she rather wished she could scream out to the Wizarding world, and the sycophants who still followed the Dark Lord, what type of man Lucius Malfoy truly had been.
A happy cry from her youngest warned of an approaching friend and Narcissa turned to see Hermione Granger reaching down to pick up Calista, bestowing a heart-felt hug to the little girl. Her parents the... Narcissa paused to remember... Dentists – were halted behind her, hands steadying her trolley.
“Mr and Mrs Granger, a pleasure to meet you,” she greeted them as Draco warmly greeted his girlfriend. “Your daughter is quite an asset to her school,” she complimented. “And we loved having her visit over the summer.”
Mrs Granger blushed prettily. “We are glad she is doing so well and has made so many friends. She was especially pleased when you made her godmother to Calista. Thank you for that.” She smiled over at the pretty picture the two girls made as Luna Lovegood cooed over the tot in her daughter’s arms.
“I believe it was the best decision,” Narcissa said watching the girls interact, a small smile gracing her face. Out of the corner of her eye she espied the bright jewel-toned hair that was the signature of her niece and she excused herself from the group, walking over to the Auror.
“Dora,” she greeted in a friendly manner.
“Aunt Cissy,” Tonks responded questioningly.
“If you would give this to your mother, I would greatly appreciate it. I didn’t want to entrust it to the owl service – I’ve been getting reports it isn’t as safe as it once was.” She handed a sealed envelope to her niece before inclining her head in a farewell gesture and returning to the gathering crowd of students and parents. She could feel Nymphadora’s eyes following her, but she knew the response that was written in the return missive could only garner good; healing some long term family wounds.
All too soon the conductor’s voice was ringing out, crying “All aboard!” and parents were giving last minute hugs, ensuring their children had all of their belongings on them and, as usual, the Weasleys showed up with barely five minutes to spare, rushing through the barrier at a run en masse and hurrying to find seats on the train, the older boys tossing the trunks through open carriage doors to waiting friendly hands before being pulled in themselves after making sure their sister had found a seat. And not a moment too soon as they closed the door and the train began to pull away.
Arthur and Molly stood near Narcissa, waving to their children with Molly calling out warnings to the twins to behave. Arthur said in an aside to Narcissa, “As if they would ever follow that admonition!” and she was hard put not to laugh outright.
“How many owls a year from the headmaster do you get for those two?” she asked, amused.
“Probably not as many as we should,” he revealed. “Severus is quite creative in keeping them busy in his ‘detentions’ throughout the year. As set as they are on going into business for themselves, I’m surprised they even came back this year – but it is probably the threat of Molly’s spoon to their backsides if they didn’t that decided them.” He watched as the train picked up speed, waving a few times to his various progeny as they stuck their heads out the windows and called back to their parents. “Well, that’s that for another year. Good to see you again, Narcissa – yes and you too, Calista,” he said, stroking the little girl’s curls before offering Molly his arm and walking back towards the barrier.
Narcissa waited until the train had gone around a bend and was no longer in sight before she turned on the spot, Apparating to the Malfoy Manor.
)O-O(
“Hey, guys,” Harry greeted the twins as they met in the train corridor. The compartment his friends had appropriated was quite jammed with kids and he’d needed some breathing room so had opted to take a walk.
“Harry-kins, what...”
“...can we do you out of?” they twin-spoke him.
Harry grinned. This was perfect. He looked around, making sure they were alone for a few moments before waving them closer.
“Actually, the question is: what can I do for you?” he hinted.
“Gred, I’m intrigued...”
“So’m I, Forge. What could our honorary little brother be up to?” They both crossed their arms and gazed down on Harry who was still a few inches shorter than them.
He reached into his blazer pocket and drew out the bag of Tri-Wizard winnings. He eyed it a moment before grabbing George’s hand and firmly depositing the bag into it.
“Harry...”
“...Is this what we think this is?” They looked in awe upon the official Games Ministry stamp on the outside of the bag.
Harry crossed his arms in turn, giving them no chance to return it. “If you think that it is my earnings from the Tri-Wizard tourney, you’d be correct. Look, I don’t need the money – and I certainly don’t want it after the way I was forced to obtain it. Half of it should be Cedric’s – but he refused it as well. Dad convinced me to wait until I could find a worthy cause that could use the money. I believe that with Voldemort’s return and all the seriousness that the war will inevitably bring, we need some laughter to fall back upon. And Zonko’s really needs the competition – their products are becoming very lame. I expect you to use those galleons in a productive manner befitting a pair of Loki’s devotees, such as yourselves.”
“We are definitely not worthy,” they whispered as one in awe.
“But we will gladly take up your gauntlet. We even have our eye on some premises in Diagon Alley...”
“...and loads of ideas for product lines. We were planning on introducing some in school this year,”
“Simply in a product testing mode, of course,” Fred promised, innocently. Harry didn’t trust that statement at all.
“In fact, have some of our samples – it’s never too early to stock up in case we’ve gained another lame teacher this year!” George said, pulling out a small box jam-packed with various candies of all shapes, sizes and colours. “The descriptions are on the lid – this is our sampler box. As our first and largest investor, we insist that you take it with you. Now, we must be off...”
“So many things to do...”
“... children to corrupt.”
“But you won’t regret this, Harry. Anything we make, you can have for free –“
“For life!” they stated together as they clasped his hands, pumping his arms in enthusiasm before grinning and heading back down the corridor.
Harry shook his head - and the feeling back into his arms - and took off in the opposite direction heading back to his compartment and his friends. He felt as if a huge weight had just been lifted off of his chest – and he felt happy.
)O-O(
“So, we are definitely starting the defence group back up?” Neville asked as the large group of friends walked up the staircase towards the Great Hall doors on their way to the Welcoming Feast.
“Absolutely. Dad said he would sponsor the group as a study group,” Harry said. “Has anyone heard who our new DADA teacher is? Ron – why’d you stop?” Harry asked as he bumped into his friend who’d stopped at the doorway to the Great Hall.
Ron gulped audibly and pointed towards the head table. “Because I think I know the answer to your question... It’s Bill!” His friends crowded around him, peering into the hall at the head table. Only protests and prodding from other students queuing up behind them got the group moving and splitting up to their various tables, Ron still flabbergasted at the sight of his oldest brother sitting next to Snape in the Defence Professor’s spot. Then he spotted his brother’s other eating companion and stopped again, causing Harry and Hermione to run into him a second time.
“Ron, will you stop that!” Hermione huffed, forcing her way past her oblivious friend and taking a seat at the table. She finally grabbed his arm in frustration and yanked him onto the bench as well. “What were you looking at?”
“She’s back...” he murmured, somewhat entranced.
“Who’s back?” she said, exasperated.
“Fleur Delacour!” Ron exclaimed and all the boys at the table whipped their heads around, pinning their sights on the French beauty, lately from Beuxbatons Academy.
Hermione gazed on the quarter-Veela for a moment. “She’s dressed in a nursing assistant’s uniform – she must be helping out Madam Pomfrey this term. I see she’s kept up her friendship with Bill,” she said in an uninterested voice.
“Anyone know who that woman is next to Dumbledore? Only she’s looking very chummy with him,” Harry asked, taking in the third new face at the Head Table. This one was a squat woman whose fashion sense seemed grossly out of place in the earthy colours of the school. She was dressed all in pink, including a large pink bow on her dishwater blond hair, and matching shoes peeked out from underneath the table. She was in an animated conversation with the Headmaster, simpering all over him.
“No idea,” Hermione stated. “But I’m sure we will soon find out. Look, Dumbledore’s getting up.”
Instead, it was time for the sorting and after all thirty-five fresh new faces were sorted into their houses, the tables filled with mounds of food that distracted everyone from the enigmas that were sitting at the teachers’ long table. Ron had piled his plate high and was quickly making inroads into the enormous amount of food, complaining about how his parents and brothers were always keeping important information from him. Ginny and Hermione studiously ignored him, preferring to talk to those who could be understood without trying to talk around a mouth stuffed to the brim.
Every now and then, Hermione would flash Draco a smile across the tables, rolling her eyes at Ron’s antics. Draco laughed and, in turn, pointed out Ron to Luna and Anthony.
Soon enough, the plates and platters were magically removed and Dumbledore rose once again to give out start of term announcements.
“Welcome once again to a new term at Hogwarts!” he began. “We have a few introductions and start of term announcements to make before I can release you to your pillows. Mr Filch has added twenty new items to his banned list; the revised list is posted in each common room this year instead of on his office door in the hopes that some of you may actually heed its contents.” He peered over his glasses directly at the Weasley twins who unashamedly grinned back at him.
“All students are reminded that the Forbidden Forest is actually forbidden. Third years are reminded to have their Hogsmeade permission slips signed by their parents or guardians before they may participate in an excursion to the town and, as you can see, we have three new faces gracing our head table behind me. Two of them are known to many of you. I would like to reintroduce Miss Fleur Delacour, who was here last year as a participant in the Tri-Wizard Tourney.” Polite applause greeted her introduction and she sat down, blushing prettily. “She will be helping Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary.
“Next to her is your new Defence of the Dark Arts teacher, an Alumnus and former Head boy from the class of Eighty-six, Bill Weasley.” Cheers rang from the Gryffindor table with the chant of “Weasley, Weasley” being started by Fred and George and picked up by the rest of the upper years. Bill laughed, bowed to the adoration, then finally used his hands in a quieting motion to get the students to hush down before sitting back down himself.
“Yes, and we have a guest administrator visiting us this year; Under-Secretary Dolores Umbridge from the Ministry of Magic. She will be helping me evaluate our schools methods of teaching to make sure we are within Ministry guidelines and requirements. I’m sure you will all join me in giving her a warm welcome.”
“Ministry teaching guidelines?” Ron asked sotto voce as the room clapped half-heartedly for the stranger. “I thought Hogwarts was self governed!”
Hermione looked questioningly up at the smiling woman who was beaming at the entire hall, her smile more of a self-satisfied smirk. “It is, Ron,” she hissed back. “It’s always been independent of the Ministry. The board of Governors makes the decisions regarding our curriculum. With her here, the Ministry is trying to infiltrate the school. My question is: who decided she needed to come? The Ministry, the Governors or Dumbledore?”
Harry could not miss the glares his father and his head of house were giving the pink woman as she stood to accept the weak applause. She looked as if she was about to say something but Dumbledore quickly overrode her, dismissing everyone to their dormitories for the night. Ron and Hermione, both of whom sported shiny new Gryffindor Prefect badges on their robes, led the first years away letting the rest of the house meander back to the portrait hole on their own.
)O-O(
Harry stomped up the stairs to the dormitory, his emotions near the breaking point. First night back and already several gits had tried to label him a liar when they flourished press clippings in his face that called into question his story about Voldemort being back in power.
He slammed the door open to the room, bouncing it off the stone wall where it nearly ricocheted back into his face. That’s all he needed, another scar to match the first one. He ripped off his tie and flung it on his chair, the pullover following soon after. A discrete cough behind him had him whipping around, wand at the ready until he saw it was Neville. He grunted at his friend, not trusting his voice at this point, and continued with his slap-dash manner of changing his clothes – kicking off his shoes and hearing them hit the wall with a satisfying smack.
“Ermm, Hermione sent up here to see if you were alright,” Neville explained. Harry gave him a Snape look number four: Sarcastic disbelief.
“Peachy,” he added with a tone that matched the raised eyebrow. “Love being called an attention seeking prat and a liar.” He flipped open his trunk lid and hunted for the nearest pair of pyjamas, tossing them on the bed along with his shower bag and slamming the trunk closed. He really liked the way the sound reverberated off the stone walls, making Neville wince. “What do they need for proof? Voldemort standing in front of them with a wand pointed at their heads and an AK on his lips? My father and Auror Moody were there – Merlin, eight other Aurors were there and they all corroborated my story. What else do they need?” As Neville opened his mouth to comment, Harry waved it shut. “Don’t answer that. It’s obvious the Ministry is trying to cover it up – good luck to them. And while they’re dithering in their parlours, Voldemort is standing outside the door just waiting for the light to go off before storming the place. Why do I even try? No, don’t answer that either.”
Neville stood there, frustration clear on his face as his friend ranted.
“I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. Maybe tomorrow will be better, although I really doubt it. Truly, is it too much to ask to have one normal year? Don’t answer that...” he muttered as he walked past the sighing Neville, night clothes and shower bag in his arms. He closed the bathroom door – loudly – and stood under the hot water until he turned into a prune.
)O-O(
Severus could feel Harry’s irritation thrumming along their connection and monitored the situation from afar. Every slam of an object reverberated down the golden thread and Severus could feel the magic building from there. Expecting a blow-up, he anticipated being called to the Lion’s Den in order to bring peace to the chaos – but it never materialised. Instead, Harry drowned his anger in the hot water and, soon after, Severus felt his son drift into dreamland. If only they were going to be pleasant dreams – but, as usual, they weren’t.
The incident in the Common Room sparked the nightmares. Unfortunately, their connection did not let Severus see what the content was. However, he had long ago charmed the boys’ dorm beds to let him know when violent nightmares occurred. He would wake up immediately and floo to the House in question arriving – usually - in time to gently wake the child and offer comfort and Dreamless Sleep potion before they managed to wake their dorm mates.
Tonight he arrived to an empty Common Room littered with books, games and magazines as well as tossed sweet wrappers and wadded up bits of parchment that had missed nearby waste-bins. Obviously the House-elves had yet to arrive for their nightly duty. He silently picked his way amongst the detritus and ghosted up the spiral staircase bypassing several other doors until he came to Harry’s dormitory.
Easing the door open, he was greeted by the sounds of snores from the other four beds and the sounds of his son tossing about in his sleep. He slowly approached the bed, his low lumos casting grey shadows across the rest of the room. Silicia raised her head from her coiled position around the bedpost, hissing her distress at him. He nodded at her as he silently warded the area around Harry’s bed so that they wouldn’t wake the others, perching himself on the edge of the mattress and reaching out a hand to gently wake him. As soon as his fingers touched Harry’s shoulder his son jerked back violently, waking suddenly and looking disoriented, biting back a cry of fright. He scrambled to the far corner of the mattress, huddled upon himself and breathing rapidly, obviously not recognizing Severus in his addled state.
“Harry,” Severus said quietly, “it is just me; it’s Dad.”
Shivering in the night air, Harry fought his way back to full awareness, his breaths ragged and gulping as his eyes darted around trying to make sense of the oddly lit room. Severus intensified his wand light, bringing things into clearer focus and Harry’s gaze finally landed on the figure across from him.
“Dad?” he whispered, as if not sure that was who was really there.
“Yes, Harry, it’s me. You were having a nightmare, do you remember?” he asked while conjuring a glass and filling it with a whispered aguamenti. He handed the water to Harry who took it with a shaking hand and gulped greedily from its depths. Lowering the nearly empty glass, he drew it close to his chest and huddled around it, nodding his head in answer.
“A little. Not much though, and its fading quickly. I’m just left with really disturbing feelings – like last night.”
Severus raised his eyebrow. “Last night?” He inwardly cursed; he’d forgotten to key Narcissa into the monitoring charms for the boys while she’d overseen them at the Manor. He could be forgiven somewhat, it had been weeks since either Draco or Harry had experienced any nightmares of the violent sort and the charm on the Manor only reached to him when he was there. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Was it the same dream?”
Harry, calmer now and starting to relax, shrugged. “It feels the same, a little worse actually, but I can’t remember anything at all of what they were about. I – I just get an impression...” he faltered as his face scrunched up while trying to capture the fading memory. “No, now it’s gone. Sorry,” he apologized, peering over at his father.
“No matter. Here is some Dreamless Sleep so you can get some rest.” Placing a small phial on the bedside table, he held the covers up so Harry could arrange himself back into the centre of the mattress before tucking them back around the teen. He handed the tiny bottle over and watched as it was consumed entirely, taking the empty back and hiding it in an inner pocket. He reached out and brushed the hair away from his son’s face as the potion took affect and Harry’s eyes began to droop. When he thought Harry had succumbed, he started to rise but was stopped by a hand gripping his robes. He looked over to see green eyes staring at him.
“Dad... thanks,” his son whispered, this time in gratitude. Severus let a slight smile touch his lips as he bent over to place a kiss on the boy’s forehead and the hand relaxed its grip, dropping back to the covers and a little sigh of relief was released from his son’s lips as he drifted back to sleep. Severus drew the covers back up and nox-ed his wand before gliding back out of the room, as silently as he’d entered.
)O-O(
Draco looked around his father’s workout room which had been expanded, the racks of weapons and workout equipment pushed to the corners and gymnastic mats now took up the centre portion of the room. The Defence study group surrounded the mats, murmuring to each other as they gathered in small groupings. The Snape brothers and their closest friends had commandeered one corner. They were all waiting for Snape to appear, wondering what the professor had in store for them.
Draco mused that if they added any more to their group, they would need a larger room. This one had been expanded to its limits, as it was, and it was still uncomfortably cosy. He reflected on the past few days as they had settled back into a new term and its routines.
Things had obviously changed in the world, even if the Ministry was attempting to put a benign face on it. Disappearances had already begun and the news that Karkorof’s body had been found in a remote sheep herder’s hut in the Scottish highlands had headlined the Daily Prophet just that morning. Bill Weasley had turned out to be a godsend to the Defence curriculum, setting up clear course objectives for each year and making sure each year was well grounded before moving on to new material. As most of the students were discovering, the Ministry observer – Dolores Umbridge – was a very un-welcome addition to the staff.
She had already begun observing and questioning the teachers about their expertise in the fields they were teaching; what their course objectives were for each level and –this was the kicker – what relevance it would have in the outside world. It had only been one week and already the woman had reduced Professors Burbage and Trelawney to tears. McGonagall went around with a near permanent scowl on her face, and Severus had been the only teacher who’d managed to glare at her until she squeaked and hightailed it out of his classroom. He was the only one she now studiously avoided. About the only staff that did not seem concerned that she was there were Filch, the caretaker, and Dumbledore - who was overly polite to the witch. She also seemed to have contempt for people who had magical beings in their genetic makeup like Fleur, Flitwick and Hagrid.
Although she couldn’t really do much to Hagrid at the moment as he’d yet to make an appearance. Dumbledore had sent him on some sort of mission over the summer. He’d been due back before classes had started, but had yet to show up and the headmaster had to make a snap decision the first week of classes to hire a substitute until the half-giant could be found. Fang, his boarhound, had stayed behind with Professor Sprout but spent most of his days laying near the entrance to his master’s hut, misery and longing for his friend evident on his face.
As it was fifth year for most of the study group attendees, they were already feeling the stress from their upcoming O.W.L. exams which would determine what they would be studying for the last two years of their schooling. Ron was under the gun from his mother, having earned a prefecture, and was expected to perform better than the twins who’d managed to scrap by with only a handful of OWLs between the pair of them. Draco himself was already being hounded by his girlfriend, Hermione, into spending more free time in the library. The group of friends had permanently taken over a study room in the back of the library and Hermione had already moved in dozens of books for handy research and revising. He felt it was going be a very long year.
Everyone jumped as the door banged open and Severus, accompanied by Bill Weasley, entered the room.
“As you know, we intended to continue the summer defence group through the school term,” Severus began as he paced the centre of the room. “You are our core group. You will be the examples for your classmates. All of you are cognizant of the danger that exists beyond these walls – whether the Ministry wishes to acknowledge it or not. You need the skills that will keep you, your friends and your family alive!” He paused; scanning the room and making each student feel as if they were being examined under a microscope. Several shuffled their feet as they felt his gaze strike them.
Harry and Draco were used to this, however, and just met his gaze without shrinking. He acknowledged them with a final nod. “Now, these first few sessions will be held here. But we want to expand this group – we will need a bigger space. In a few weeks we will be meeting in the Room of Requirement - also known as the “Come and go” room – located on the seventh floor. Professor Weasley and I will be taking turns monitoring the group and setting projects, but you will be the ones teaching the younger students and your friends who are not as up to speed as you are. Your assignment, for each one of you, for the lesson two weeks from now is to bring three of your friends with you. Now, Professor Weasley and I are going to demonstrate some new shields for you then you will break up into pairs and practice. Observe!”
The two teachers faced each other across the mats, wands at the ready – arms loose, prepared to snap up in a blink of an eye. Taking measure, Severus underhanded a spell towards Bill, which was blocked with a shield that flared purple, absorbing the impact of the curse. Appreciative murmuring was heard around the room and Draco looked over at his brother who had an intense look of concentration on his face.
“Pair up!” Professor Weasley soon announced after teaching the movements to the group and Draco found himself being grabbed by the upper arm by his brother and marched over to an open space on the mats. He tossed a “What can I do?” look back at Hermione who huffed good-naturedly and paired off with Ginny Weasley. That was someone who had blown everyone, except her brothers, away with her magical strength this summer. However, as Luna pointed out, she was the seventh offspring of a seventh offspring – her father and her mother were both seventh children. She had become one of the most powerful witches in the entire school – her hexes already legendary.
Draco turned back to his brother, concentrating on the shield form that Bill had demonstrated for them. It was a twist with your wand in... that direction and a flick back the other way... He practiced a few moments before Harry sent a jinx toward him and he reacted quickly, but without enough power and the Jinx, while slowed down, still managed to make it through his shield causing him to break out in spots all over his face. He frowned at his brother who was giggling across from him.
“Really? A pox jinx? That was all you could think of?” he accused the giggling maniac. This only made Harry laugh louder. He soon sobered up, though, when Draco sent a stunner in his direction and he had to hastily erect his shield. Like his brother, his wasn’t powered enough and the curse got through and managed to knock him back a few inches.
In fact, the only student who managed not to create a weak shield on their first try was Ginny Weasley. Hers flared purple as it fully absorbed the jinx Hermione had shot at her and she was grinning from ear to ear at the praise her eldest brother was giving her.
“What is going on here?” a shrill voice cut through the room, and all sound ceased as heads turned, unbelieving, toward the doorway to behold Madam Umbridge standing there in all her pink glory, livid, clipboard gripped in white knuckled hands.
“Pardon?” Bill Weasley asked politely as he paced towards her, Severus coming in from the other side of the room looking very much like a great cat stalking its prey. Students judiciously moved towards the back of the room, far away from the inevitable confrontation.
Faced with the handsome Defence teacher, Umbridge puffed up like an adder. “I asked what was going on here! Why are all these students gathered here in the dungeon practicing dark spells!”
“Dark spells? I hardly think that the Astroviolacens shield qualifies as a ‘Dark spell’,” Bill speculated. “In fact, it has been a part of the curriculum of this school for the last seventy years.”
“For NEWT level students only!” she shrieked, her high voice ringing in the room causing several of the students to wince in pain as their ears hurt. “I only see four students that qualify as NEWT level,” she pointed out.
“Yes, well, all the students in this sanctioned study group are advanced students of defence, well beyond their classmates in skill and knowledge. We are making sure that they stay challenged by supervising and leading this group. It is well within our purview as teachers,” Severus clarified. By now both professors were blocking her view of the exercise room and crowding her back out the door.
“We shall see about that!” she spluttered. “There are many things wrong in this school and my report back to Dumbledore and the Minister shall reflect that. Teaching students Auror level spells indeed. What need have they to learn these spells? What use could it possibly have for young students?”
Harry, who was nearby mumbled sarcastically to his brother, “Oh, I don’t know... protect ourselves when we’re attacked by dark wizards – hypothetically of course.”
“Oh, of course,” Draco replied, rolling his eyes. But Umbridge had heard them, as had their father who glared at them behind Weasley’s back.
“And who do you think would be attacking students, Mr Potter?” she directed toward Harry.
All three Snapes turned their glares towards the woman. “That’s Mr Potter-Snape!” Harry growled back, peeved. Really, it had been three years since Harry and Severus had discovered their heritage – why was the rest of the world so slow in remembering it? “And I don’t know – Maybe Voldemort? Since he’s only tried to kill me three times now... And tried to kill Cedric last spring... But maybe I was wrong; maybe I only thought I was transported to a creepy graveyard where a whole bunch of Death Eaters showed up and my blood was used to restore Voldemort to his body. Maybe I just imagined that he duelled me until my father and Auror Moody showed up with eight other Aurors to fight those imaginary Death Eaters. Dad, were those fake Death Eaters last spring?” Harry directed towards his father who was trying hard not to gape openly at his cheeky son. The father quickly recovered, though.
“Oh, no, they were quite real. I recognised quite a number of them, in fact, including the Dark Lord himself.” He returned his stare to the woman fuming in his doorway. She was turning a very nice shade of purple and he took note of her left carotid pulsing in her neck.
“Lies!” she hissed through clenched teeth. “All lies!” She turned back towards Harry. “You should be punished for the lies you are spreading, you naughty child!”
“Oh, I assure you, Madam Undersecretary, this is the unvarnished truth. There shall be no punishments given for speaking the truth. And we,” Severus indicated towards Bill and himself, “intend to make sure that these students can protect themselves when He comes for this school – and I can say unequivocally, He will come for this school.” Bells chimed overhead signalling the twenty minute warning before curfew was enforced. “Now if you don’t mind, several of these students have quite a long hike to return to their dorms. I need to release them now and you are blocking their route.”
“This is not the end of this, Snape!” she warned as she stormed off in a huff.
“I’m sure it’s not...” he murmured as he watched to make sure she continued towards the stairs leading from the dungeon. “Alright, time to head back. Boys, are you staying?” he asked as the children begin flowing out of the room, murmuring amongst themselves and followed discretely by Bill Weasley to make sure the Undersecretary didn’t accost the children on their way back to their houses.
“If you don’t mind?” Draco asked after getting a confirming nod from his brother.
“Not at all. Let’s get this straightened up first.” He waited until the last stragglers had said good night to the brothers then waved his wand, restoring the room to its former configuration and size. When the last wall had scraped its way back into place and the last mat folded and stacked, he led his sons out the door, nox-ing the lights behind him.