Chapter 52: Secretly Decided in SecrecySummary:Please welcome your new Divination Professor!
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextThe next morning there was yet another article in the Daily Prophet about Grindelwald; apparently the site of his parole had been secretly decided in secrecy, but of course they were keeping it a secret. Hazel couldn't pay it too much mind, she had other things on her plate. Like breakfast, but also the fact that Trelawney was more harried than ever. Umbridge was following her nonstop, writing down everything she did, looking for even the smallest infractions to write her up for; clearly she wanted an airtight case for the woman's dismissal.
Midway through lunch, with thick fog curling around outside the windows and the ceiling of the Great Hall shrouded in gray, the show began with screaming from the entrance hall. Hazel knew immediately it was Trelawney, and she got to her feet to go watch, leading the rest of the students out of the Great Hall.
Sure enough, there they were. Trelawney in the center, her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other. She looked quite mad with her hair sticking up on end, her glasses askew on her nose, and her shawls and scarves trailing behind her. Two large steamer trunks lay on the floor, both looking like they'd been haphazardly packed; one of them lay upside down, edges dented, as if they had been thrown down the stairs.
At the foot of those stairs was Umbridge, and for the second time in Hazel's memory she wore a tight look on her face as opposed to her usual loose, pouchy expressions. It was a look of sheer glee, though dimly tempered by frustration at having to sort this out with so many witnesses. "Surely you must have foreseen this, Professor Trelawney? Or should I say, Ms Trelawney?"
"I refuse to accept this!" Tears were pouring down Trelawney's face, and she shook with what seemed to be honest grief. "This can't be happening! You c-can't sack me! Hogwarts is my home!"
"It was your home, but no longer." Hazel was revolted by the sight of her wide mouth stretching in a smile of enjoyment, which stretched wider as Trelawney collapsed atop her trunks. "An hour ago, the Minister countersigned the order for your dismissal. Now remove yourself from this hall, you are embarrassing us."
She made no move to enforce the order, however; she seemed to take more enjoyment from watching Trelawney suffer, from watching her shudder and moan in her grief. Hazel looked around briefly; everyone was conned by the sight before them, especially Lavender and Parvati, who were clinging to each other and crying silently.
Sharp footsteps broke through the muttering. It was Flitwick, hurrying forward as fast as his short legs could carry him. "Take heart, dear Sybill, you're not leaving the castle. Come now, blow your nose, there's a lass."
Umbridge shifted her gaze to the Deputy Headmaster. "Aren't you a bit remiss in giving her false hope, Professor Flitwick? On whose authority do you claim she will not be required to leave the castle?"
"Mine, of course." McGonagall had spoken up at last, and she too strode forward. "Filius, take her trunks back upstairs, we don't have time for this charade to continue."
Umbridge was taken aback, but she rallied quickly. "Hem, hem! May I remind you, Minerva, that I have an Order of Dismissal, signed by myself and the Minister? May I further remind you that I have the authority, as High Inquisitor, to inspect and sack any teacher whom I feel has not met the standards set by the Ministry? Ms Trelawney does not meet our standards, therefore she is dismissed!"
"Certainly, you have every right to dismiss my teachers." McGonagall was being infuriatingly reasonable, and Hazel could see her acquiescence was getting on Umbridge's nerves. "However, the authority to banish any resident of the castle, faculty, staff, student or otherwise, still resides with the Headmistress. And I did not authorize Sybill's removal from the castle."
"No, Minerva, I'll leave, I know when I'm not wan-"
"Hush, dear, I have spoken. Filius, Pomona, escort her back upstairs."
"You will do no such thing!" Umbridge's voice had risen to a shriek, and her wand was out. "You dare challenge my authority?! I'll have all of you sacked and replaced! Especially you, Minerva! We all know you're just a placeholder for Dumbledore!"
The front doors swung open with a bang, and there, in the fog, was a familiar figure. "Your ignorance is astounding as ever, Dolores." It was Dumbledore himself, and he strode forward, quite at his ease. "Minerva is no placeholder, she is the Headmistress, recognized by Hogwarts itself. And only she may dismiss professors from the castle, as you are well aware."
"Well- well where will she stay when the Minister's appointed replacement arrives and requires her lodgings?!"
"That won't be an issue." Dumbledore was still smiling pleasantly, as if this was nothing more than a civil discussion between friends. "Minerva has found a new Divination professor, and he is hardly the type to be climbing up all those stairs and ladders."
"What do you mean ?! You can't just- Need I remind you of MY AUTHORITY, Dumbledore?!"
"You need not. You only have the authority to replace our professors if the Headmistress cannot herself find a replacement. And in this case, she has succeeded. Minerva?"
"Indeed, Albus. He was right behind you, wasn't he?"
From the fog outside came the sound of hoofbeats on cobblestones, and a carriage came into view moments later, drawn by enormous black horses. Four large men, grim-faced Aurors in the uniform and insignia of the German Ministerium für Magie, jumped out first, escorting a fifth man bound by chains. It was this fifth man who immediately drew everyone's attention; those who had paid attention in Murk's classes gasped in recognition.
He was very, very old, perhaps as old as Dumbledore. He had mismatched eyes, one brown and one silver, and an undercut hairstyle with the front spiked up and the back slicked back. He wore an outdated suit that was nonetheless immaculately tailored and preserved, its black fibers gleaming in the light from the castle; Hazel didn't know much about sartorialism, but she figured it might be Victorian, with a vest and baggy trousers and an ascot. Or was it a cravat? Whatever. Despite the chains that bound him, he walked with the kind of confidence Hazel could only dream of exuding.
No one said a word as the Aurors led the man inside, and presented him to McGonagall. She accepted the man's chains with a stiff nod, then unlocked the chains and released the man with a sweep of her wand. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Grindelwald."
There was a sudden uptick of noise from the assembled students, and a yelp of fright from Umbridge, but the old people paid no heed. "My thanks, Headmistress." Grindelwald certainly didn't sound old. He flexed his hands, looking down at them; Hazel could see a pale strip of skin at his wrists, as if he'd been in chains for many years. "And my thanks to you as well, old friend, for securing such a fine retirement home for me."
This was spoken to Dumbledore, who merely nodded in reply and handed the man a wand. Not the Elder Wand, but a dark and crooked thing, several inches long. He accepted it and held it aloft. "Thirteen inches, ebony and thestral hair. Ollivander?"
"Indeed, Gellert, finished just this morning. I hope it agrees with you?"
"Very much so, Albus." The two men embraced, and there were gasps from the audience of students.
Hazel glanced at Umbridge, who had been struck dumb by the arrival of the old warlord. But she flinched when she noticed Hazel looking, and cleared her throat. "Hem, hem. Surely this must be a joke, Dumbledore. This man, this man, here of all places? Teaching!?"
"It is not a joke, Dolores. The International Confederation authorized his placement almost as soon as the German Ministry approved his parole. They are not to blame if Fudge wasn't paying attention to his diplomatic packets."
Grindelwald turned and regarded Umbridge carefully, the full weight of his mismatched gaze bearing down on her. "You bureaucrats are all the same, aren't you? Hiding behind titles and rules as if they'll save you when the storm comes."
Umbridge stiffened. "Are you threatening me, Mr Grindelwald!?"
"Professor Grindelwald to you, Dolores." McGonagall sounded stern. "Come, sir, your quarters and classroom have been prepared. Sybill, you may return to your tower at your leisure."
"Gladly." Trelawney had dropped the hysterical act and was back to her former self, flicking her wand and drawing her trunks behind her.
Umbridge stood there, staring impotently, then she rounded on Dumbledore. "And you! Where have you been?"
"Being of service, of course." He bowed cordially. "I wished to make myself present to ensure there were no misunderstandings about Gellert's presence. I shall depart once I am assured he is settled in and there are no outstanding objections."
Umbridge looked as if she had plenty of objections to lodge, but Hazel chose that moment to remind her who was really in charge with a subtle draft around her ankles and a surge of heat at the collar of her cardigan. She decided to flee instead.
Hazel watched her leave, then looked up at Dumbledore. She could think about Grindelwald later; right now she had to get answers. "Sir? Could I have a word with you before you leave again?"
"Certainly, my dear. Shall we step outside?" He gestured ahead, and she walked out the door, where she watched the German Aurors climb back into the carriage and take off into the fog once again. The doors closed with a creak, and they were alone. "Well?"
"First off, sir, you said you were going to reveal that you knew about the Horcruxes and that you were hunting for them. But I've had a few glimpses into Voldemort's mind since then, and he doesn't seem to have noticed. Have you really revealed yourself to him yet?"
His eyes twinkled. "Indeed I have, and during the day his rage is terrible indeed. But with three of the things destroyed and the bits of soul removed from his reach, his remaining soul is quite withered. He has created his final Horcrux."
"Yes sir. But there's still one left, right? Have you destroyed it yet?"
"No, Hazel, I have not. I believe I know where it is, but the protections surrounding it are too powerful for even me to penetrate."
He was lying, but she couldn't say quite how. "Sir, you remember when I purged the locket, how my head hurt and it felt like I had been invaded? Do you think… was that the piece of soul from the Horcrux? Have I been absorbing Voldemort's soul this whole time?"
The twinkle vanished from his eye, and she knew she was on the right track. "What makes you think that, my dear?"
She spoke slowly, as old suspicions resurfaced. "Every time a Horcrux was purged or destroyed, my head hurt, and my scars expanded. Though it also expands when I encounter Voldemort, it expands more when those things are destroyed. And I know that the only way to preserve the soul when a Horcrux is destroyed is to have another one nearby for the shard to be absorbed by. So it logically follows that I've been absorbing those pieces because I had one in me already."
He was looking down at her in all seriousness. "That would be the logical presumption, yes. Where do you suppose you first acquired a piece of his soul? That is to say, when do you assume you became a Horcrux?"
Hearing it said out loud like that put a shiver down her spine, but it also brought clarity to her thoughts. "I think… when he tried to kill me as a baby? My mother's sacrifice forced the spell to rebound, and maybe his soul was already so weak and shredded that another piece accidentally fell off, latched onto me? That was when I got the original scar, so that's the only possible event that makes sense."
"I fear you are correct, my dear. How did it take you so long to realize this?"
She could only shrug. "I guess because my head hurt when I first had an inkling of it and I had other things going on, like helping Percy, and by the time I had room to think I'd forgotten all about it."
"A fair and accurate assumption. I see you have yet to learn proper time management." That twinkle was back in his eye, if only for a moment.
She rolled her eyes. "Yes sir. The question now is, how do I get rid of his soul?"
"How indeed?" He was looking away, but still listening, and she figured he wanted her to work it out for herself. Which meant it was probably something shocking and awful.
She looked away herself and thought about it. "Well, we know that unless the Horcrux is a relic of the Gaunts, or some inheritance I have power over from Slytherin's blood, all we can do is destroy the vessel. And I'd rather not be destroyed, you know?"
"Perish the thought."
"Right. Failing that I suppose I could point my wand at my forehead and try the Killing Curse? Though I'm not sure I'm actively suicidal so that might not even work."
"I have no doubt you would know right away if you were, my dear. As your teacher I must caution against such extreme measures."
Was he being sarcastic? She glared up at him, but he was looking away into the fog, his expression giving away absolutely nothing. Scowling, she looked away again too. "I wonder if taking my blood had some other effect. He wanted it because he thought he could replicate my mother's protection, or something; instead it messed up all kinds of shit."
"Ah, there I believe you are wrong. It wasn't the blood itself, but the means by which it was acquired. What did you say the words of the ritual were?"
"Uh… Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will…something or other. Resurrect your foe, I think is what it said. But I didn't let them forcibly take it, I gave it up to them willingly."
"Correct, and that is what fouled the ritual and weakened Voldemort."
"Whatever, we're getting sidetracked. How to purge his soul shards…"
They lapsed into another silence, Hazel thinking hard. "Maybe I could make a Horcrux of my own, sir? Force the pieces of soul into an object?"
"Perhaps you could, but I would urge you to consider some other way first. The process is repugnant, and you would have to sacrifice a small portion of your own soul in order to properly lure the foreign shards along with it."
Hazel didn't see a problem with that, but she figured it would be best to keep that opinion to herself. "Maybe blood magic then? He used blood magic to bring himself back, after all."
Dumbledore considered that for a moment, then shook his head. "Strictly speaking he was already back, he merely needed your blood to construct a new body. No, we are dealing with soul magic, my dear, which is a largely unexplored realm of magic."
Unexplored magic, eh. She turned and regarded him very closely. "Sounds like something the Department of Mysteries might be interested in, huh?"
He just chuckled. "Perhaps, perhaps."
"What else is down there, sir?"
"Oh, this and that. And I'm sorry to say but we're out of time, my dear. Do mind your studies."
She scowled up at him. "You're evading the question, sir."
"Indeed I am! Take care, my dear." He bowed over her hand and turned on his heel, striding off into the mists; he disappeared quickly, leaving Hazel alone outside the doors.
Hazel huffed a sigh, then turned and went back inside. She'd figure it out soon enough.
Notes:These chapters are exciting so I thought I would post them at once. Enjoy!
Chapter 53: Two Kinds of EvilSummary:Hazel has two meetings. One is much more eventful than the other.
Notes:Take heed that there is a brief bit of torture in this chapter, via the Cruciatus Curse.
Chapter TextHazel finished lunch and went about her day, and after dinner decided to go check out the new Divination classroom. It was on the first floor, a concession to Grindelwald's age, though Hazel doubted he was really so infirm, so who was making the concession?
The door was ajar, but she went to knock anyway. A voice spoke just as she was raising her hand. "Enter." She lowered her hand, shrugged and walked inside.
The first thing she noticed was how well-lit the room was; every window was open and uncovered, allowing the dying light to stream in, and there were torches spaced regularly along the walls. The fireplace behind the desk roared merrily, pushing against the cold seeping in from the open windows. The walls were bare, with bookcases full of strange tomes and relics from Grindelwald's past; Hazel noted a wand, a skull, a tattered black banner with the sign of the Deathly Hallows in silver.
Gone were the mismatched round tables and comfy chairs; instead there were curved benches and tables making half-circles around a central lectern. It took her a moment to realize the rows of benches and tables were staggered in height, allowing everyone a view of the lecturer at the center.
Grindelwald himself was standing by the desk, staring at a chart. As Hazel approached he looked up with a smile. "Miss Potter. I was expecting you." He flicked his new wand, and the chart rolled itself up and stowed itself away. "Albus has led me to expect much from our first meeting."
Hazel wasn't sure what to think of that. "I'm not in the habit of honoring promises others make on my behalf, Professor."
"Very wise." He rounded the desk and moved to the center. "Come, stand in the light."
"Which li-" Above the lectern a ball of green light appeared, the exact shade of the Killing Curse. Feeling nervous, she stood on the dais, beneath the ball of light.
Grindelwald's silver eye seemed to gleam as the light reflected off of it, and she felt his scrutiny like he was peering into her very soul. "Hm… no great gift of the Sight. But you are a child of prophecy nonetheless. Destinies hinge on your word and deed, Potter."
Hazel glowered. "I didn't come here for flattery, Professor."
"Then why did you come here?"
She hesitated. To check out the new classroom sounded trite in her head, even though it was the truth. She hesitated a moment too long, and Grindelwald chuckled. "Not that it matters. You're here now, Miss Potter, and you have a great deal of thoughts in your head. Share them with me."
She glanced meaningfully at his desk, then back at him. "They're thirsty thoughts too, you know."
He chuckled again. "Of course they are. Let us hydrate." He led the way to the desk, flicking his wand to lower the intensity of the fire, and summoned a tray. "Pick your poison, my dear. Tea, butterbeer, firewhiskey, peppermint whiskey?"
"I'll take the peppermint whiskey, thanks." He nodded and poured them each a shot, and she took hers with a nod; her rings didn't react, so she had a sip of the cool drink. "Hm, you are very trusting."
"Not really, I've got enchanted rings that warn me of anything that could harm me."
"Good, good. So, your heavy, thirsty thoughts."
She had another sip, then set the glass down. "What I have to say to you must remain in strictest confidence, sir, am I understood?"
"Understood." He toasted her demand.
"Good. Then, the heaviest thought is that… I might be a Horcrux."
He snorted slightly. "Indeed? Where is your evidence for such an assumption?"
"A, I've been destroying Voldemort's Horcruxes since my second year here. B, every time I destroy one these scars on my forehead get bigger and I feel a brief sensation of being invaded. And C, I was able to purge the Horcruxes from their objects without destroying them, by invoking my ancestral rights and powers as Heir of Slytherin."
Grindelwald held up a hand. "Refer to that man by his given name in my presence, please. He does not deserve the moniker of Dark Lord."
"Tom Riddle, then."
He poured them both a fresh measure of whiskey. "You must be aware of the intricacies behind Horcruxes, Miss Potter."
"I am, and my theory is that because I am one, when I purge or destroy one of his, the bits of soul inside are latching onto the bits in my scar. That explains the pain and sense of invasion I feel each time."
"Assuming your theory is correct, what does this mean for your fight against Riddle?"
"Sorry, my fight?"
He rolled his eyes. "Yes, Potter, your fight. Riddle believes you are a threat, therefore he'll come for you no matter your protests. Or else what are you training your little student militia group for?"
"H-How do you know about that?!"
He chuckled smugly. "I'm a Seer, remember? Also you just admitted it to me." He laughed again at the outrage on her face. "Ah, the idiocy of teenagers. Remember this, Potter: old age and treachery will always triumph over youth and exuberance."
She couldn't help but sulk, but pragmatically had to admit he was right. "Whatever, old man. What's with Riddle's obsession with me anyway?"
Before Grindelwald could answer, there was a knock at the door. He called for them to enter, and it turned out to be Draco. "Professor, I'm here for Hazel. It's time for our patrols."
Hazel cursed the time, but Grindelwald merely smiled. "Fret not, Miss Potter, I shall not disappear. Come speak to me after class again tomorrow."
"Yes sir." She bowed and turned to leave, glaring at Draco as she approached; he gave her a bland stare in return, and shut the door as she left the room. "You've got impeccable timing, Draco, we were discussing Voldemort and it was just getting juicy."
To his credit he looked truly sorry. "Yes, well, Umbridge was making noise earlier and we can't afford to piss her off, so let's just keep our heads down and do our jobs. Like he said, you can speak to him again tomorrow."
"Ugh! Fine." Part of her hoped for some morons to try and break curfew so she could give them a piece of her mind.
Instead she got Zacharias Smith, on his way to the prefects' bathroom after what must have been a cold and miserable practice. "Smith?"
He whirled about, but relaxed when he saw her. "Ah, Potter. Sorry, I know it's late, but practice ran over and I wanted a bath before bed."
"I don't care." They were going the same way, so she fell in next to him. "How'd it go?"
"It was awful!" Clearly he'd been waiting for someone to ask. "Those two muscle-heads are undermining my authority at every turn, scaring the girls off the team with their sexist bullshit and acting like they're above me! The team is collapsing, Potter, at this rate I'm tempted to forfeit our match next month and save Hufflepuff the disgrace."
"Wow, that sucks. But, can I be honest?"
He huffed a sigh. "I know what you're gonna say. I'm a shit captain, right?"
"Compared to me? Yes, you are. But everyone's a shit captain compared to me."
That brought a chuckle. "Humility like that, the Sorting Hat should've put you with us!"
She chuckled too. "Yeah yeah. But listen, Umbridge isn't gonna be around much longer, once she's gone Crabbe and Goyle will go back to normal and I'll take you guys under my wing, just like I did with Johnson and the lions back in third year. How's that sound?"
"Why would you do that?"
"Because I don't believe in easy victories I haven't earned, that's why."
They turned a corner and ran into Umbridge, who was surrounded by members of the Inquisitorial Squad and looking quite smug indeed. Hazel saw Crabbe and Goyle, but also Edgecombe, Cormac McClaggen, and a few other Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors she didn't recognize. "Hem, hem! What was that you were saying just now, Miss Potter? About how I wouldn't be here much longer?"
Hazel grinned a feral grin. "Please, Professor, don't be stupid. Fudge won't be Minister forever, especially now that Grindelwald is in England and he couldn't do anything to prevent it. And once he's gone, you're going with him!"
The hag's face contorted. "Open defiance! Anti-Ministry sedition! Two hundred points from Slytherin and detention with me for a month! GET THEM!"
Her goons swarmed forward, but Hazel was ready. She shoved Smith out of the way and whipped out her wand, conjuring a heavy blast of wind that knocked them all backwards again. Dammit. She hadn't wanted to act so soon, but things were accelerating yet again!
"You think your rules and detentions will stop me, Umbitch?" She made another gust of wind, keeping the Squad out of the way. "Go ahead, make my day. Take points? Sinistra will just put them back. Give me detentions? I'll skip them and beat up anybody you send after me. Go after my family? I'd like to see you fucking try, Sirius will show you just how nasty the Blacks can be!"
Umbridge was alone. Her minions had been knocked out of the fight, and even Crabbe and Goyle were smart enough to stay down. Smith was no help. "You deluded, nasty little girl! You dare stand up to the Ministry?! EXPELLI-!"
"Wrong answer!" Hazel stopped her from casting by wrapping her scarf around her mouth. "Try again!"
She pulled the scarf off and threw it aside. "Why can't you girls just LEARN TO GET ALONG?! STUPE-"
"NO!" Again she canceled her spell, this time by silencing her directly. All the while she was moving forward, boxing Umbridge into a corner. "Try harder!"
The hag struggled to cast non-verbally, and Hazel simply deflected her weak-ass spells. "What's up, can't cast with your mouth closed?"
"Potter, look out!" That was Zacharias! Hazel looked around, saw Crabbe and Goyle sneaking around to get her from either side!
They charged; she ducked and struck back with knees and elbows, forcing them to blunder into each other until she could slam one of them face-first into the wall and kick the second in the head. It only took a few ferocious moments, but it was enough time for Umbridge to get her feet under her again. "Incarcerous!"
Heavy black ropes appeared from nowhere, binding Hazel tightly. Her wand clattered uselessly to the floor as she fell over; out the corner of her eye she saw Zacharias sprinting away in the direction of the Headmistress' office, and the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad getting up as it became clear Hazel was restrained and helpless.
"You disgusting little slut." Umbridge was beside herself now, looming over Hazel with her toad-like mouth stretched in a gleeful smile. "I'll have to teach you what happens to silly girls who think they can play a man's game! CRUCIO!"
The pain tore through her body like fire, lighting up every nerve ending, but all she could think was Finally! She bit down hard to keep herself from screaming, even as the curse made her writhe and contort, muscles spasming impotently.
Umbridge was still standing there, casting the Curse, her expression lit up with sadistic pleasure. "This is where defiance gets you, Potter! If not me, then whichever man eventually takes you as his wife! No one likes a woman who pretends to be a man! Look at you, loud and brazen, carrying scars you didn't earn!"
"Fuck you, I earned every single one of the-!"
"SHUT UP!" The Curse came even stronger, and Hazel had to clamp down on her own jaw again.
Marietta came up behind Umbridge, nervous and tentative. "Uh, Professor, maybe she's-"
"No! I decide when she's had enough!" She had truly gone around the bend, Hazel thought dimly, in the last corner of her mind that wasn't consumed by the pain. "She hasn't even screamed yet!"
"DOLORES!" A sudden spell knocked the wand out of her hand, and the pain stopped immediately. It was McGonagall! With Burbage and Sinistra in tow! "What in heaven's name is going on here!"
"Sedition!" Caught red-handed, Umbridge was unrepentant, even as the still-conscious members of the Inquisitorial Squad were dashing off down the hall. "This little harlot was plotting against me! Against the Ministry!"
Sinistra and Burbage moved to prevent the fleeing students from escaping, while Zacharias put himself between Umbridge and Hazel. "We were not! She was escorting me to the prefects' bathroom and we got to talking about our latest practice, and-!"
"You can report the specifics later, Mr Smith." McGonagall had her wand out and trained squarely on Umbridge. "Nothing can justify using the Cruciatus Curse on a student. You will come with me before the Board of Governors, Dolores, and you will be banished from Hogwarts forevermore!"
Umbridge started to speak again, but Hazel had had enough of her; a flick of her finger silenced her. McGonagall bound her in ropes and released Hazel from her own bindings, though she was slow to stand up thanks to how tight they were and from being tortured. "Mr Smith, escort Miss Potter to the hospital wing, and disregard any comments or instructions she might give to the contrary."
"What about this lot?" The other two professors had returned with the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad, and Crabbe and Goyle were slowly coming round.
McGonagall regarded them all with equal disdain. "We'll handle them in the morning. All of you, return to your dormitories immediately. Aurora, escort Dolores to the holding cells."
"Let's go, Potter." Zacharias moved to take Hazel by the arm, but she shrugged him off and went under her own power, only limping a little. There wasn't much Pomfrey could do, other than to give her a potion for the pain and ensure she had a private bed for the night.
"I'll be fine, I've had periods worse than what she did to me." Hazel tried to downplay it as the potion took effect and she changed into the pajamas Pomfrey provided, but the matron was having none of it.
Hazel laid down readily enough, though. She was tired after a full day's bullshit. And tomorrow would bring even more.
Chapter 54: Not Very ReassuringSummary:Hazel does a shit job reassuring those who matter most.
Chapter TextEveryone knew what happened by morning. Umbridge was in a cell beneath the dungeons, her little goon squad was in disgrace, and Hazel was a hero once again for standing up to the hag and enduring her fury. Hazel ate breakfast quickly; she had to get down and call Sirius on the mirror before he got a distorted version of events and got it through his head that he had to come up to the castle personally.
Of course, all her girls were beside themselves with worry. Pansy was the worst. "Is it true?! Did that pink hag really tie you up and Crucio you last night?!"
"Yeah, Pansy, she really did."
Pansy shrieked. "That bitch! I'm going to go down there and kill her!"
"You'll have to get in line." Daphne was furious, and none of her other close friends looked any better. Even Luna had a worried little frown on her face.
Hazel rolled her eyes. "Look, chill, all of you. She had nothing on Voldemort, I've had periods worse than what she did to me!"
"That's not very reassuring!"
Even Ginny and Hermione came all the way over, with Ron and Neville in tow. It got to where Hazel became so overwhelmed she let out a shriek of her own. "I'm fine,dammit! Everyone go back to your seats before I start throwing hexes!" Fortunately that convinced them to ease off, and she finished breakfast in peace and hurried down to her dorm.
The mirror was buzzing when she opened the trunk, and she sighed, knowing what was about to happen. She put up extra privacy and muffling charms before grabbing the mirror and activating it. "Sirius."
"Hazel!" He and Remus were both there, looking angry and worried. "Fuck, kid! What the fuck happened up there last night?!"
She sighed again; yep, just as predicted. "I was with Zacharias Smith, we were badmouthing Umbridge as usual. She happened to overhear us with a bunch of her goons, one thing led to another, there was a fight and I got tied up and Crucio'd while that troll screamed at me about how girls ought to know their place or whatever the fuck kind of 50s garbage she was high on."
Remus muttered something that sounded like "British understatement, my ass" but his tone was too low for her to make out clearly. "So is that why Crabbe and Goyle were both concussed and seven other students too scared of what happened to testify?"
"If you already knew what happened, why were you freaking out just now?"
Sirius made an impatient gesture with his fingers. "Never mind that, we can freak out if we wanna. Are you gonna be okay?"
It was Hazel's turn to make an impatient gesture. "Jesus, you're just like everyone else! Yes, I'll be fine, that hag had nothing on Voldemort. I've had periods worse than what she did to me!"
Remus shook his head. "That's not very reassuring, you know. Where is she now?"
"The same holding cells we had Barty Jr locked up in. She'll probably be there for a while, I doubt the Ministry is in any state to receive and sentence her now."
"No, they're not. Grindelwald's arrival might be what finally tips Fudge's administration over the edge, people are furious about it. They weren't warned, no additional security is in place. The only thing keeping the peace is the fact that Dumbledore is going to give a statement to the press this afternoon, so they'll probably put out a special edition of the Evening Prophet."
Hazel knew the paper's editors only put out evening editions when something really important happened, and the arrival of an ancient warlord in England was bound to count for that.
Come to think of it, had they put one out last night? She didn't remember. Maybe the news hadn't even broken before today. No, it had to have made the news at least this morning, or else people wouldn't be "furious" about it as Remus had said.
She decided to look for the day's paper as soon as she was done talking to Sirius and Remus. "I spoke to Grindelwald last night, you know, he seems alright. I really believe he's repented of what he did before."
Sirius chuckled. "That or he's good enough to fool you, kiddo. You're still just a student, he's been around since before your grandfather was a twinkle in his daddy's eye."
The indirect reminder of Morfin Gaunt was enough to ruin Hazel's mood. "Right. Well, I've got to get going, people are still worried about me. Love you both."
If they noticed the abrupt dismissal for what it was, they didn't say anything. "Love you too, kiddo. Take care." The mirror went dark, and Hazel sulked for a few minutes. She wasn't even dead or bleeding, so what the hell was everyone freaked out about?
A sudden cramp from below told her no, actually she was bleeding. She sighed and reached for her pad, cleaning it with a quick charm before sticking it in her knickers. In truth her claim about periods was bullshit, she'd been on Pomfrey's pills since before she even started her periods, but they didn't need to know that.
With that sorted out, she went to the common room to peruse the morning paper. Sure enough, Grindelwald's appointment was front page news. PROFESSOR GRINDELWALD TEACHING DIVINATION AT HOGWARTS the headline screamed.
Hazel skimmed the article. It seemed to have all the relevant facts, giving a brief synopsis of the events leading up to Grindelwald's release; apparently, Germany had elected a progressive slate of officials in their most recent Ministry elections, and their highest priority had been criminal justice reform. And of course, who could be a better test case than the ultimate war criminal?
Naturally, Skeeter had to put her own slant on things. She gave just as much ink to playing up the chaos at the British Ministry, claiming they had no recourse in Grindelwald's assignment and that none of them had anything to say on the matter. And why would they? They were too busy keeping the lights on and the government afloat while Fudge and Madam Bones fought it out.
The rest of the paper was given over to street interviews looking for opinions on Grindelwald. Reading between the lines, Hazel could assume most of the interviewees, even after months of breathless coverage on the parole hearings, replied with variations of "Gellert who?" before they were told who he was and what he had done. Those who did recognize the name right away were elderly witches and wizards, and they mostly condemned the man's release as well as the Ministry's lack of response. A very vocal minority used the issue to pontificate on criminal justice reform, railing against Azkaban and the punitive nature of the Wizengamot's trials.
But the apathy didn't last long. People were outraged because the paper told them to be outraged, and after months of press blackouts the Prophet was firmly against Fudge. Skeeter and the other reporters made sure the people they interviewed were too. "If this doesn't get rid of Fudge, I dunno what will."
Hazel wondered if this was part of why Dumbledore had allowed his old friend to settle in England; there was no doubt in her mind that if he had been against it, the German Ministry and the ICW would have found somewhere else to settle him for his parole. But it seemed perfect in her mind; Fudge was on his last gasp, he had resorted to hiring fucking mercenaries and dark wizards to enforce his regime (she was getting tired of that phrase!), his Senior Undersecretary was in a high school drunk tank, and people were finally fed up with him when he couldn't prevent the ICW from putting the last Dark Lord right in their backyard.
Not once did it occur to her to actually be worried about Grindelwald himself. Why would she be? She had to assume the Germans and the ICW knew what they were doing when they held hearings, she had to assume the German people and the constituents of the other ICW members wanted the old warlord to be released. Therefore, either his repentance was genuine or Dumbledore was playing a very long, very shitty game. From here, it was hard to say which was which.
Either way, it wasn't her problem. Her problem was Umbridge, and the piles of homework her professors were assigning in the leadup to Christmas break, and this mystery weapon Voldemort was after. Not even Grindelwald was her problem until next term; since it was so late in the year, McGonagall had decided to cancel Divination so that Trelawney and Grindelwald could collaborate on the curriculum. Hazel wondered why Trelawney didn't ask to be reinstated; it was only Umbridge who had sacked her, and Umbridge had no power anymore.
Maybe she wanted a vacation from teaching? Not much of a vacation, to be honest, since she was staying on at Hogwarts and retaining her duties as Head of Ravenclaw. Again, not her problem.
With Umbridge under arrest, life at Hogwarts was slowly returning to normal. The various Educational Decrees were summarily set aside, the Inquisitorial Squad was disbanded and punished (though Hazel had to intervene to keep Marietta out of trouble, since she had been her spy), the boys who had taken her permissive attitude as carte blanche to mistreat girls quickly learned respect again (some at the tips of those girls' wands, to be sure).
The question of who would teach Defense was answered quickly, when Hazel and the others walked in and found every trace of Umbridge removed as if it had never been. The classroom was bare, windows thrown wide to admit the chilly air from outside. Standing at the front was Professor Trelawney, who had dispensed with the usual robes and scarves and shawls in favor of a form-fitting Muggle power suit and skirt. She had her hair pulled back and her usual glasses were gone; she looked competent and powerful, a far cry from the Divination professor they all thought they knew.
Once everyone was seated, Trelawney took roll, then tossed the parchment aside. "So! This isn't my usual specialty, but Defense is a mandatory class and we've got some catching up to do!" She flicked her wand and sent copies of a real Defense textbook to everyone: Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts by Galatea Merrythought. "Now, let's see how much catching up we have to do."
Fortunately, everyone in the class were members of The Study Group, and they all performed flawlessly. Trelawney was surprised, but she didn't let it show. "Well done, all of you, I guess Miss Potter's underground dueling club paid off." Hazel tried not to show her own surprise, but Trelawney was moving on before anyone could comment. "That being said, I hadn't planned on anything but catching up today, so we'll call it a free period."
Some students did homework for other classes, but most of them gathered in clumps for gossip and chatter. Hazel, though, approached Trelawney. "Professor, how did you know about The Study Group?"
Trelawney scoffed. "Come now, Miss Potter. I'm a Seer, remember? And anyone who knows you even half as well as I or any of your regular teachers knows you would have assumed you'd be doing something of the sort anyway."
"Then I'm glad Umbridge didn't know me very well."
Trelawney nodded. "Truth be told, this really isn't my area of expertise, for all that I can put on a good show for the younger years. So I'll be relying on you and the others in your little group to do most of the teaching in OWL year and above. By the sound of it you've already been teaching yourselves."
"I've been teaching dueling since second year, I feel like."
After classes, Hazel decided to head down to the holding cells to lord it over Umbridge a bit more. But first she figured she should get permission, so she went upstairs to ask the Headmistress. She gave the password ("Phoenix Feather!") and took the spiral stairs up.
Luckily, McGonagall was seated at her desk. She smiled slightly when she saw it was Hazel. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Potter?"
Hazel smiled back and crossed the room, sitting down. "I wanted to ask about Umbridge, Headmistress. What's being done about her?"
The smile faded slightly, and McGonagall huffed a sigh. "At the moment? Nothing. Kingsley assured me that as soon as the Ministry is back under control, he'll personally see to it she has a trial. But that could be weeks from now; even after Fudge is ousted, the Order and the Aurors will have to work together to purge his loyalists and ensure a fair, proper government is put in place. So she's staying here for the foreseeable future."
Hazel nodded. "Would it be alright if I went down and paid her a visit?"
McGonagall peered intently at her for a long moment. "And what would your intentions be for such a visit, Potter?"
She giggled and saw no point in lying. "Well, I won, and I wanted to brag and rub it in, you know? The whole Slytherin thing?"
The Headmistress looked very unimpressed, then shook her head. "Of course you would. I probably should forbid it, but you'd probably go down there anyway. Just… don't push her too far."
"Yes, Headmistress." Hazel bowed and left. She waited until she was in the hall downstairs before breaking out into giggles; this was gonna be awesome!
Chapter 55: Vicious MockerySummary:Hazel and Umbridge have at it.
Chapter TextOn the way down, Hazel realized she had a golden opportunity to confirm a sneaking suspicion about Umbridge she'd had ever since the "hearing" that summer, on whether or not she had in fact dispatched the Dementors to Little Whinging that kicked the whole mess off. If Umbridge was still unstable, she could use that against her; if not, it would be easy to destabilize her again.
Hazel arrived upon a rather surprising scene. Filch and Grindelwald were supervising as a house-elf fed and watered the pink hag, who appeared mulish but reluctantly cooperative. She wondered if Umbridge was intimidated by Grindelwald, who was standing still as a statue with his arms crossed, mismatched eyes watching her every move.
Eventually the house-elf disappeared and Filch limped away, and Hazel stepped forward. "Madam Umbridge."
The hag glared, but quickly asserted her usual saccharine facade. "That's Professor Umbridge to you, Potter~"
Yep, still unstable. "I have some questions for you."
"And I shall be delighted to refuse to answer~!"
Grindelwald smiled. "You might as well answer her, Dolores, I've seen it. Save us all some time and just get it over with."
Umbridge just sneered at that, and Hazel rolled her eyes. "What's with the defiance, Umbridge? You lost. They caught you red-handed, using the Cruciatus Curse on me."
Umbridge only sneered harder. "You deserved it, Potter! I heard you plotting sedition! And I know you've been gaslighting me, messing with my surroundings and violating the dress code! You and those other sluts!"
"Jesus, Umbridge, try a different insult."
"Tart! Whore! Silly little girl! Scarred little freak!"
Freak? Hazel had to laugh at that. "Whatever you say, Umbridge. Let's get down to business. Those Dementors that attacked us last summer, who sent them?"
Bizarrely, the question seemed to calm her down. "Why, it was Weasley, of course. It was his seal and signature on the orders, after all~"
"Really? Did anyone ever verify that he had actually signed it? Because I bet if we inspect his memories we won't find any proof he gave those orders."
"Memories are unreliable, Potter. A wizard of Weasley's caliber could easily modify his own thoughts to conceal such actions."
Grindelwald chuckled. "True, but even an accomplished wizard would leave traces of tampering. Only someone as powerful as Dumbledore or myself could edit memories without leaving evidence behind."
Umbridge fumed, unable to challenge Grindelwald due to his power and gender. "Fine, it was me! Everyone was bleating about silencing you, you slag, but no one had the nerve to actually do anything! Sending Dementors was perfect!"
Hazel nodded. "If I fought them off you could hang the Statute of Secrecy around my neck and send me away for good, if I didn't fight them off I'd be a soulless husk and never threaten anyone ever again. Head you win, tails I lose."
"Exactly! I admit, I underestimated you, Potter. I thought you'd be more like your foolish parents, not a real Slytherin. But once I'm free I won't make the same mistake again!"
"You'll never be free, Umbitch." Hazel stepped forward, leaning against the bars and looming over her. "I'm in your head now. Every loud noise, every time something goes wrong, you'll think of me." A twitch of her finger untied the hag's shoes and twisted the laces together.
"Foolish gir- LAGH!" The hag stepped back, and was promptly tripped up. Grindelwald burst out laughing at the sight. "How dare you?!"
Hazel feigned innocence. "Me? I didn't do anything. You must have tied your own laces together somehow~"
Umbridge seethed as she fumbled with her own laces. "You're just a, a… a bitch! That's what you are, Potter! Nothing but a crude, fumbling, slutty little-!"
Hazel twitched her finger again and cut the hag off mid-rant. "That's enough bile out of you. Fudge is finished, you can count on that. Next time you leave this cell, you're going straight to Azkaban, and you can count on that too!"
She turned and strode out of the cell block, and Grindelwald followed after ensuring the wards and locks were in place. "Do you suppose there's an Evening Prophet with Dumbledore's press conference, sir?"
"I have no doubt there is, Miss Potter. I was able to attend, with a minder, and he said a great deal without saying anything at all."
"Fair enough. So! Let's resume our conversation, shall we?"
"If you insist. You were asking as to Riddle's obsession with you, I believe?" She nodded eagerly, and he took a moment to compose his thoughts. "There was a prophecy, made in February of 1980, the year you were born. It spoke of Dark Lords, and of those who would have the power to destroy him."
"Yes?" Hazel was excited at the idea of finally getting answers. "And??"
The old man smiled. "And unfortunately, Albus has forbidden me to speak any further on the matter."
Dammit! "That meddlesome old goat! He's got no right to keep things from me!"
"Respectfully, Miss Potter, he has every right to keep things from you, so long as you share a mental connection with Riddle. The details of the prophecy cannot fall into his hands, under any circumstances."
Hazel fumed. "He knows perfectly well that I can close off my mind at will, and that proper Legilimency requires things like eye contact and physical closeness."
"And under normal circumstances you would be precisely correct. Not to mention the wards and protections woven into the very stones of Hogwarts itself, shielding young minds from external influence. Your mind, however, is so tightly wound up with Riddle's that these protections are bypassed; neither of you should be able to access the other."
"Yet here I am, accessing his mind." She put aside her feelings to think it through. "But only at night, I've noticed."
"Perhaps Riddle is only letting you see what he wishes you to see?"
She considered that, then shook her head. "No, I don't think he knows I'm there. I think it's just because I'm asleep and my mental defenses are weak. It doesn't happen all the time."
Grindelwald's eyes gleamed. "Have you considered attempting to actively access his mind?"
Hazel paused; she genuinely hadn't. "No, actually. That sounds risky, though I'm sure there's a difference between active and passive Legilimency."
"True, an accomplished Occlumens can discern either, though passive Legilimency is much harder to detect. However, Dumbledore spoke highly of your mental abilities, and I believe you can accomplish this. If you agree, then come to my quarters after dinner and we'll discuss this further."
Hazel was apprehensive about the thought of directly entering Voldemort's mind, on purpose instead of by accident, but she couldn't deny a dark and visceral thrill at the thought. "I'll be there, sir, but I have to put a dent in my assignments and do my patrols first."
Dinner was subdued, with a great many copies of the Evening Prophet being handed around. Hazel read hers; as Grindelwald had indicated, Dumbledore said a lot and didn't say anything at all. He acknowledged his history and past relationship with the man, made the right noises about repentance and second chances, and roundly condemned the recent Ministry descent into authoritarianism.
Speaking of the Ministry, the paper had further updates regarding the situation there. Fudge had issued a written statement condemning Grindelwald's appointment at Hogwarts and was vowing to investigate and possibly remove the former warlord from the country. In response to protests around the Ministry he had ordered his militia of mercenaries and dark wizards to lock the building down, and had no direct response to the unrest and disorder. He also had no comment on Dolores Umbridge's imprisonment or the circumstances leading up to it.
Draco shook his head. "He really is determined to go down with the ship, isn't he? We're on the verge of civil war."
Hazel had to agree. "He has to be running out of emergency powers and provisions to activate, right?"
Pansy sniffed. "Hopefully a new government will take the time to rescind all those powers. That one man could do all this for so long makes us look like fools."
Blaise rolled his eyes. "He's lucky he hasn't been assassinated yet."
It was hard to take December seriously, since they only had a few weeks of classes. Hazel knew from experience that those weeks would crawl by at a slog, and the two-week break would be over before they knew it. But they were still getting loads of homework, and no one had as much as Hazel did; some nights it felt like she was back in her third year, overambitious and well on her way to a breakdown.
Fortunately she had much healthier ways of venting stress. Like shooting, or Luna, or Pansy. Or Ginny, or Hannah, or Hermione, or…
Yeah, she'd be at it all night if she listed all her lovers, so best to take it easy.
During a break in assignments she made a mental list of her remaining priorities. Staying ahead of homework was an ongoing struggle; she hadn't made much progress in learning what this weapon was that Voldemort was obsessed with; motorcycle and driving training was proceeding apace; Quidditch was in the bag; Grindelwald remained a mystery, albeit a helpful one.
As for The Study Group, she wondered if people would even want to keep going with it, with Umbridge gone. There was always a slim chance she could get free, but Hazel doubted it. Then she remembered the circumstances: civil war brewing beyond the walls, and frail, foppish Trelawney now teaching Defense. Competent she might be, she was hardly the intimidating figure students would expect for such a crucial subject in a time of war. But she, Hazel, was. In that light there was a very good chance they'd all want to stick around!
So she reassessed her priorities, and one rose to the top: this weapon Voldemort was after. Hopefully this meeting with Grindelwald would shed some light on the mystery. At this point she could safely assume the 'weapon' was the prophecy, and that it had to do with herself and Voldemort somehow.
Once her assignments were finished she did her patrols, and since she was impatient to see the old warlord she had no mercy for the second-year brats she found sneaking out of Ravenclaw Tower. "Back to your dorms! Twenty points each from Ravenclaw and detention with Filch tomorrow night!"
Luckily they were cowed into heading back, and the rest of her patrol was uneventful. When her time was up she went downstairs, nodding to Roger Davies as he was on his own patrol. She reached Grindelwald's quarters, and the door opened before she could knock.
The old warlord was waiting for her, in a Victorian era black silk dressing gown. "Right on time, Miss Potter. Sit, let us have tea before we get down to business."
"Sure." She sat down across from him as he poured, and she added sugar to taste. "Mm, not bad."
"It is from Mexico, in fact. They have a very deep herbal tea culture down there, going back to the time of the Maya." He went on about the Maya for a time, and they drank tea and ate biscuits. Hazel wondered what the point was, or if he was just showing off.
Eventually , the pot ran dry, and he set the tea aside. "Now then, are you feeling quite relaxed?"
"Yes sir. Some kind of herbal combination in that tea?"
"Quite so. This state of relaxation will be useful for what we intend to do tonight. Now, you are aware that Occlumency and Legilimency are two sides of the same discipline?"
"I am, sir. Occlumency focuses on the self, Legilimency focuses on others. Defense, and offense."
"Good. Let us begin."
Chapter 56: NaginiSummary:Some crazy shit happens, and poor Hazel can barely keep up.
Chapter Text"First, enter an Occlumency state and look for gaps or weaknesses in your mental fortress."
Hazel did this every night, but maybe the tea would help her zero in. So she closed her eyes, found her castle, slipped inside. She wondered if it would be the same as when she isolated the headache in third year, and looked for the same sort of oily presence. Sure enough, the same places the headache had been creeping in back then were weak again now, too. "I found a few weak points, sir."
"Good. Examine them closely for signs of interference or external influence."
She looked more closely, and sure enough she found a few traces in the air, foul smelling and grungy. "I found them, sir."
"Those are the traces left behind by your nightly visits to Riddle. Now, attempt to use Legilimency to follow those traces outside yourself."
"Okay…" She made her mental self small, small enough to slip through the cracks, and went outside the fortress. The traces led outward, faint but visible. She used them like ropes and pulled herself onward, moving very quickly. There was a solid wall of gleaming silver ahead, extending forever in all directions, but the traces slipped right through it, and so too did she. Those were the Hogwarts wards meant to prevent this exact thing, she realized.
"I'm having an out-of-body experience, aren't I?"
"Indeed you are. Keep going."
Hazel kept going, following the traces at the speed of thought. She arrived at a body, and to her surprise it wasn't Voldemort but… a snake? "It must be Nagini…"
She couldn't see Grindelwald's reaction, but she heard him draw a startled breath. But his voice was steady as he spoke on. "Can you tell where you are?"
"No, I- wait, we're in the Ministry." Everything was dark, and the light was weird, but she was certain this was the stone corridor leading to the Department of Mysteries. "The Department of Mysteries!"
"Are you alone?"
"Ye- no! Someone else is there, at the far end!" The snake put its tongue out, tasted the air, the person's scent: it tasted masculine, the person was asleep. The snake didn't recognize them, but Hazel knew it was Arthur Weasley. "Is he guarding the entrance?"
The snake moved forward, trying to get around the man despite the urge to bite, to feed, to kill . He was dozing off, a silvery cloak slipping off his body and pooling around his ankles. But the snake got too close; Arthur stirred, woke up quickly, leapt to his feet! The snake had no choice!
"No!" Hazel surged forward, trying to possess the snake! It hissed and reared up, trying to fight Hazel off! The snake's mind was reinforced, and Hazel couldn't get a grip despite her affinity for snakes, but she prevented it from attacking before Arthur could strike back!
He began casting spells! Flashes of red that bounce off the snake's scales! The snake shook off Hazel's influence and lunged, sinking its fangs into his body, over and over! BLOOD! DEATH!
Suddenly a flash of green light as he tried the Killing Curse! It worked, and the snake was killed on the spot! Hazel was blasted out of the snake, rocketing hundreds of miles instantly, landing back in her body, but she had brought a piece of the snake with her! Her scars seared with pain and she felt the same sort of presence as when she had purged the locket!
Fighting against the pain and panic, she tried to assert her Occlumency barriers to force the presence out! "Professor! Imperio!"
Grindelwald didn't hesitate; he drew his wand and used the Curse on her immediately, and with his help she forced the presence away. He lifted the Curse, and she forced herself to calm down, taking deep breaths until her heart stopped racing. "Okay, okay… I'm not sure whatever it was is gone, but I'll be fine…"
She opened her eyes to see him standing over her, trembling with excitement. "What in Merlin's name happened, Miss Potter??"
With a great deal of panting and pausing, Hazel explained. "Nagini was trying to sneak into the Department of Mysteries, but Mr Weasley was there, and he woke up and tried to stop her. She made to bite him but I stopped her for a few seconds! I couldn't get a firm grip on her mind though, and she bit him anyway, but he managed to kill her with the Killing Curse."
Grindelwald nodded slowly. "Arthur's people must be informed immediately. I apologize, but our little teaching session must be put on hold." He flicked his wand, conjured a large silvery bird; it was too bright for Hazel to make out any details, but she thought it might be a phoenix, similar to Dumbledore's. "Arthur Weasley attacked, possibly dying! Send aid immediately!" The construct absorbed the message and vanished.
"Who did you warn, sir?"
"Mad-Eye Moody, he's the one in charge of assignments, he'll know exactly where Arthur is and how to get to him without letting anyone know you were there. Now come, you should get back to your dorm."
"To hell with that, I need to let Ginny and the others know!" She tore out of the room and ran for Gryffindor Tower, but then she changed her mind and ran for Professor Burbage's quarters instead. She skidded in front of the door and pounded on it. "Professor! Professor, wake up!"
She pounded until the door banged open, and there was Professor Burbage, looking quite cross indeed. "What in Merlin's name is the fuss, Potter?!"
"I need to get into Gryffindor Tower, Arthur Weasley's been attacked and his kids need to know!"
To her credit, she didn't ask how Hazel knew; she flicked her wand, conjured a second dressing gown about herself and hurried to the Fat Lady, who swung open automatically at the sight of the Head of House to reveal a round hole in the wall.
Hazel had never been inside the Gryffindor common room. It was… cluttered, with an overabundance of crimson and gold that made her eyes hurt. She had an impression of a great many overstuffed and quite squashy armchairs, which contributed to the cluttered appearance, though she didn't have time to study the details.
Burbage wasn't stopping to look around, and Hazel hurried to catch up to her as she took the spiraling mahogany staircase two steps at a time. She stopped before one dorm and poked her head in. "Weasley! Get your arse out here, double-time!"
She repeated the same at a different dorm, though she yelled for two Weasleys instead of one. Then she hurried across to the girls' dorms to rouse Ginny, and Hermione too even though she wasn't a Weasley (she was as good as one, in any event).
Fred and George had beaten them to the common room, and Hazel suspected they hadn't been asleep yet. Ron stumbled down at the same time they did, with Ginny and Hermione bringing up the rear. Burbage clapped her hands. "Brace yourselves, you lot. Potter?"
"Thanks, Professor." She turned to face the Weasleys, and Hermione. "Your dad's been attacked. I saw it in a vision as it was happening. Grindelwald alerted Mad-Eye and they're moving to rescue him now."
They all went pale, even Hermione. Fred and George immediately started muttering to one another; Ginny tottered forward and held Hazel tight, nearly falling into her, and she hugged her back; Hermione fretted for a moment before approaching her too, and Hazel hugged her on the other side. That left Ron looking a bit forlorn. "So, um, attacked how?"
Hazel looked him in the eye. "By a giant snake. Voldemort's giant snake, to be exact. Fortunately Mr Weasley was able to kill it, but not before it bit him three times."
Gasps and increased murmurs.
"Mum probably already knows-"
"-our family clock, you know?"
At Hazel's confused look, Ginny sighed. "Mum's got a clock that doesn't tell time, it tells where each of us are. Home, work, school, Quidditch, hospital, prison, dentist, traveling, overseas, in court, lost…"
Ron made a choked sound. "...and mortal peril. It makes an alarm whenever anyone's in mortal peril." He chuckled wetly. "Mum had to disable Charlie's alarm, working around dragons means he's in mortal peril a lot."
The portrait hole swung open, and McGonagall strode inside, followed closely by Grindelwald. "Potter's told you all?" They nodded. "Good, good. Molly knew the second it happened and is raising hell, and I assigned Everard to alert the right people at the Ministry."
Hazel dimly assumed Everard was one of the headmaster portraits, and that he had a second portrait at the Ministry, but she didn't have time to consider it. She sat down heavily in one of the squashy armchairs; it really was comfy, and she wondered if maybe she could get some like it in Slytherin colors for her own common room.
The weight of the vision settled over her like a damp cloak, leaving her with a headache. She could still feel the echo of the snake's strikes, almost as if she'd been bitten.
Ginny and Hermione both lingered close. Fred and George's murmurs were growing more urgent, and Ron was rubbing at his face like he wasn't sure if he wanted to cry or punch something.
Hazel stayed seated by the fire, where she felt a pressure in her mind; another vision? She didn't really want to put up with more of Voldemort's crap, but they needed all the intelligence they could get. So she relaxed, opened her defenses, reached out…
A dark chamber, cloaked figures… in the corner of sight, pale fingers gripped arm rests…
A high, cold voice, animated in fury… "We have lost Nagini."
One of the cloaked figures spoke up quickly, his voice familiar… "My Lord, I did attempt to warn you."
The pale fingers squeezed tighter on the arm rests… "Indeed, Severus. Our displeasure is not aimed at you."
Another cloaked figure stirred… "My Lord, why was the snake important? You can get potion ingredients from-"
The pale fingers lifted, pointed, flicked… the cloaked figure writhed and screamed… "We tire of repeating ourselves. Nagini was no mere snake! You know we made her a Horcrux, the last Horcrux we could make!"
The pale fingers lowered, the cloaked figure fell to his knees… "You are a fool, Lucius, and you are on your last chance. Begone from our presence."
The figure scurried away, cursing under his breath… "Severus, how go our efforts elsewhere?"
"Our Azkaban rescuees are slowly recovering, my Lord. I am pushing them as fast as I dare to, they cannot be pushed any harder or else-"
"Yes, yes. What of the Ministry? We had other agents at work besides Nagini."
The cloaked figure paused… "Our efforts at the Ministry are… not going so well. Attempts to infiltrate the Hall of Prophecy have all met with failure; Rookwood's assertion is so far proving correct, only the subjects of a particular prophecy are able to remove the recording. Two Unspeakables have been sent to St Mungo's after we forced them to try and retrieve it for us. Once Weasley and Nagini are found, the remaining Unspeakables will doubtless put more efficient security in place."
"They must have known, Severus. They resisted even your attempts to place them under the Imperius Curse for this purpose, after all."
"Yes, my Lord."
The pale fingers clenched and unclenched, trembling with repressed rage… "We curse that fool Dumbledore for revealing our weaknesses to the world. We had desired to keep them hidden, secret, safe. Now there is only one left, and we are no closer to that damned prophecy!"
Hazel withdrew, opening her eyes. Nagini had been a Horcrux, and now she had even more of Voldemort's soul inside her head. She was the only thing tying that bastard to life, and she had no idea how to undo that. The obvious answer was to give up and die, to sacrifice her own life so that Voldemort's soul could be untethered and he could be mortal once again.
And wouldn't that just be convenient? Jam a wand to her head, flash of green light, boom. No more Horcrux, no more Hazel, and shortly thereafter, no more Voldemort. Well. Fuck that. Fuck that with a ten-foot pole! Hazel had no intention of sacrificing anything, least of all herself!
She thought back to the last conversation she'd had with Dumbledore, the previous night when Grindelwald appeared. He had made all the right noises of support and care, but he had also been weird and socratic, as if trying to lead her thoughts in a certain direction. Which they had certainly gone down.
Anger flared up in her, and she let its warmth scorch her soul for a few moments. She wouldn't give herself up so easily, no matter how many old men thought they could manipulate her into doing so.
Something Voldemort said came to mind then: "We are no closer to that damned prophecy!" Was that why he'd sent Nagini to the Ministry? Did they have some sort of record hall down there? She couldn't imagine any other reason why he would risk one of his last links to life so recklessly; all his other attempts had failed, his agents and operatives defeated.
She recalled the difficulty she'd had in trying to redirect Nagini, and wondered if maybe it had been because Voldemort was already there, already guiding her actions and restraining her instincts. Then it made sense; he had sent her because he could be her, could assume direct control of her. He had sent her precisely because all other attempts, agents and operatives had failed, but he hadn't counted on Arthur being willing and able to use the Killing Curse.
So there was definitely something down there he wanted, and she felt she could assume it was the prophecy. What was she going to do about it?
The others were making plans to leave early for Grimmauld Place, though of course they referred to it as "Sirius' house" due to the Fidelius Charm. She debated joining them; on the one hand she'd be safer at Hogwarts and she could continue researching shit, on the other hand she'd be in the thick of the action at Grimmauld Place and-
-and she'd be closer to the Ministry!
The idea thundered into her head, fully formed, all at once. Sneak into the Ministry of Magic, creep down to the Department of Mysteries, find where they keep the prophecies and steal hers! Then she could finally see what Dumbledore and the rest of the Order were keeping from her!
God, sometimes she really did love herself.