“The Many Faces Go To War: Chapter 7”
By = Fayanora

Chapter Seven: Mahala Kalisha Kadu

Notes: Started putting dates on these chapters where possible, it helps me keep track of where I am in the story. (Something I figured out when writing my original fiction.) Dates are provided by HP Lexicon's Order of the Phoenix calendar.

FORMATTING FOR INTERNAL VOICES = Because the previous note about the styles was messing with the formatting, the following will be formatting for internal voices: 'Single quotes with no italics' will be Adira/Addy unless someone is quoting something, ~Text in tildes~ will be Chandra, (Parentheses for Al,) [Brackets will be Hypatia], % Percentage symbols for Iliana %, # Pound signs for Mother/Avani, # * Asterisks for Zoey, * and {curly brackets for Tier.} Apologies for any confusion this may cause.

Text in 'Italics and single quotes' is Parseltongue.

J. K. Rowling owns this sandbox, I'm only playing in it.

This chapter may contain some quotations from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and definitely has some quotes from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

This chapter ends on a bit of a down note, but the next chapter gets much better and funnier.

One last note: Don't skip the Prophet article in this chapter, it's not quite the same as canon. * Smirk *

*FAYANORA*

September 10th, 1995

The next day went much more smoothly with no Umbridge classes and no detentions this week, so far. Adira spent most of the day Out, though Iliana spent a few hours after curfew drawing up a Quidditch practice schedule. For the first hour, she went around the common room and even into the dorms to find all the players and reserve players to get as much information as she could about their weekly schedules. When she sat down to make the schedule, the bulk of their practice time would be on weekends, but there were a couple weekday practices as well.

She was still in the middle of this task when Dobby appeared with a CRACK, and she jumped enough that the quill went wildly over the parchment, ink making a mess of it. Several other people jumped and shouted in alarm as well.

“Dobby, don't DO that! If you're going to appear when I haven't called you, please pop quietly and several feet away so it doesn't startle me.”

“Sorry, Miss Iliana Potter, Miss. But Dobby is having a message and instructions from Dumbledore, Miss.”

“You're forgiven, as long as you're quiet in the future, okay Dobby?” He nodded, so she continued, “What does Dumbledore want, Dobby?”

Dobby handed her a note in Dumbledore's handwriting that said she was wanted in his office for an introduction to be made. And since it was after curfew, and he wanted to keep this meeting secret from Umbridge, Dobby was here to ferry her to his office.

She held up a finger to tell him to wait. He waited as she used her wand to fix the mistake his sudden appearance had caused, and finish drying it and putting it away. Then she grabbed her things and motioned him to follow her with a nod of her head. He followed her up into her room and watched her put her things away. Then she closed the door with her wand.

“Okay, Dobby, we can go now. But please try to do it quietly. Dumbledore wants this meeting to be a secret.”

There was a knock on the door.

“Who is it?”

“It's me,” Ron said. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

Ron came in, closing the door behind him. He stared a moment at Dobby, then looked at her questioningly. She handed him the note, which he read.

“Oh. Well that saves me asking what that was all about. I'll tell Hermione if I can do it quietly enough.”

“Thanks, Ron.”

Iliana took Dobby's hand and a couple seconds later felt like she was being squeezed through a very tight rubber tube, until she popped out with a relieved breath. She wobbled on her feet and pitched forward, looking like she was about to puke, but she managed to keep herself from doing so with concentration. She really hated puking; they all did.

“Ah, Miss Potter, glad to see you didn't have to make use of the bucket after all,” Dumbledore said. Only when he said this did she notice the bucket in front of her.

Standing up shakily, she nodded. “Thanks for thinking of it, though, headmaster.”

“You are quite welcome, my dear. Are you feeling better?”

Iliana sat down on a chair in front of his desk. “Yes, I'm doing okay.”

Dobby sighed and popped away quietly.

“Good,” Dumbledore said. “Because I wanted you to meet someone today. Please come in, Miss Kadu.”

The door opened. Iliana turned to look at the door, and saw a woman as black as a moonless night come into the room. She was instantly familiar to them.

“You! We saw you in a vision we had over the summer!”

The woman paused, regarding her with shrewd eyes. Then she closed the door behind her.

“How much did you see in this vision?”

“An entire conversation between you, the headmaster, and Professors McGonagall and Snape. Um... because of that vision, we made a contract-bound truce with Draco Malfoy.”

“Ah, good. So I won't have to repeat myself. You already know your sins.”

“Yes. It was... it made us feel sick, to realize you were right.”

The woman, Miss Kadu, sat down next to her on the other chair.

“Good. That means you are still decent people, despite your flaws.”

Iliana opened her mouth to speak, but froze in place, their form suddenly switching to Al's form. The instant he appeared, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he began speaking in the harsh tones of his Prophecy voice.

“In the dark midden, the halfling's horde, beats the hairy heart of the dark lord. Bound in an artifact made of gold, one of many hands to life he does hold. Ancient as the serpent king down in the deep, the promise the halfling could not keep. Keep the promise, kill the heart, and down the cross road you will start.”

When he snapped out of it, his eyes returning to normal, he blinked in surprise. The two adults blinked back at him, astonished.

“Did anyone catch that? I don't remember anything at all about it.”

Dumbledore got out a quill and wrote down the prophecy at once, handing it to Al to read.

“Not ringing any bells. I didn't get any images with that one.”

“Fear not, Alastair. It is not necessary. For a prophecy, that was remarkably straight-forward.”

“Really? Because it sounds like gibberish to me. The only 'halfling' I know of is hobbits, and I've not yet heard of those being real. And 'hairy heart'? What's that? Those are the key points, I think.”

“The 'hairy heart' is a reference to one of the tales of Beedle the Bard, old wizarding fables. The hairy heart story is thought by scholars in the know to be a reference to horcruxes. The mention of 'many hands to life he does hold' and 'down the cross road you will go' confirms this. As to 'halfling,' that is a house elf, I think. I suppose it could mean a goblin, but I don't see how that could be.”

“Really? What makes you think that?”

“Because Sirius told me that Kreacher the house elf is quite unwell in his mind, and is living in a nest like a midden heap, full of things he managed to rescue from the house before they could be thrown away.”

“And you think this horcrux is there, in Kreacher's nest?”

“It is worth a look. One moment, please.”

Dumbledore took a mirror out of his desk and called Sirius on it, telling him to come to the office and bring Kreacher. Sirius agreed, though in a confused way, and signed off. They waited.

“So uh, what's your full name? I can't recall.” Al asked the woman.

“Mahala Kalisha Kadu,” she said, holding out her hand.

“Alastair Potter,” he said, shaking her hand.

* Oh wow, she's gorgeous! * Zoey said.

“Zoey thinks you're gorgeous,” Al said. Then he cocked his head. “The rest of us agree.”

“Thank you, Alastair Potter,” she said.

A green fire appeared in the grate, and Sirius stepped through.

“Kreacher!” he called.

With a CRACK, Kreacher appeared.

“Master has brought Kreacher to the office of the Mudblood-loving old fool who runs the school. Kreacher is wondering why. And there is the freak that brought down the dark lord. Why is it here, Kreacher wonders?”

“Shut up, Kreacher,” Sirius commanded. Kreacher opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He glared at Sirius.

“Anyway, Dumbledore, why are we here? Why did you want both me and Kreacher?”

“Because as I was introducing Alastair to Miss Kadu here, Alastair had another prophecy.” Dumbledore handed Sirius the parchment for Sirius to read.

Sirius's eyes went wide. When he finished reading it, he looked at Mahala Kadu and then back at Dumbledore.

“He had this prophecy in front of the both of you?”

“Miss Kadu is in the know, about the horcruxes. When she was here over the summer, she figured it out on her own, so I had no choice but to confirm it. She is not helping directly with the horcrux hunt, but was interested in meeting the Potters and possibly training them.”

“Okay... so what does this have to do with me and Kreacher?”

“I believe the prophecy Alastair gave is saying that Kreacher has one of the horcruxes in his possession. Sirius, will you please order him to answer the questions that I ask him?”

“Yes, I can do that. Kreacher, you will answer any question Headmaster Dumbledore asks you, and you will answer it truthfully and fully, leaving nothing out. Do you understand? Answer my question.”

“Kreacher will do as Master wishes. Ungrateful Master that he is, breaking his mother's heart with his wicked ways.”

“Go ahead, Dumbledore.”

“Kreacher, do you have in your possession something that belonged to Lord Voldemort? Perhaps an object made of gold?”

Kreacher looked up at Dumbledore uncertainly. “Kreacher does not have anything from the dark lord. Not that Kreacher is aware of.”

“Kreacher, did you ever meet Lord Voldemort?”

This time, Kreacher looked scared. He twisted his hands like Dobby once did, and he was shaking.

“Answer him, Kreacher.”

“K-Kreacher... Kreacher is meeting the d-dark lord once. Years ago.”

“Did he want you to come with him for some reason, Kreacher? Did he ask Regulus Black for your services?” Sirius's head jerked up at these words.

Kreacher was shaking worse than ever, and there were tears in his eyes. “Th-the d-dark lord is... is asking M-Master R-Regulus... to be coming w-with him, for a task.”

“What was that task, Kreacher?”

“C-Can't... w-won't... M-Master Regulus trusted Kreacher... and Kreacher failed!”

“What was the task Regulus commanded of you for the dark lord, Kreacher?”

Kreacher was sitting on the floor now, crying into his hands. Sirius blinked at this in confusion, then sighed and squatted down next to him.

“Kreacher, what happened? Tell me what Voldemort wanted from Regulus that concerned you.”

The elf sat up, curled into a ball, placed his wet face between his knees, and began to rock backward and forward. When he spoke, his voice was muffled but quite distinct in the silent room.

“Master Sirius ran away, good riddance, for he was a bad boy and broke my Mistress’s heart with his lawless ways. But Master Regulus had proper order; he knew what was due to the name of Black and the dignity of his pure blood. For years he talked of the Dark Lord, who was going to bring the wizards out of hiding to rule the Muggles and the Muggle–borns… and when he was sixteen years old, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord. So proud, so proud, so happy to serve...

“And one day, a year after he joined, Master Regulus came down to the kitchen to see Kreacher. Master Regulus always liked Kreacher. And Master Regulus said... he said...”

The old elf rocked faster than ever.

“… he said that the Dark Lord required an elf.”

“Voldemort needed an elf?” Dumbledore repeated, looking at the others. Everyone was puzzled why that would be.

“Oh yes,” moaned Kreacher. “And Master Regulus had volunteered Kreacher. It was an honor, said Master Regulus, an honor for him and for Kreacher, who must be sure to do whatever the Dark Lord ordered him to do… and then to c–come home.”

Kreacher rocked still faster, his breath coming in sobs.

“So Kreacher went to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord did not tell Kreacher what they were to do, but took Kreacher with him to a cave beside the sea. And beyond the cave was a cavern, and in the cavern was a great black lake…”

The hairs on the back of Al's neck stood up. Kreacher’s croaking voice seemed to come to him from across the dark water. He saw what had happened as clearly as though he had been present.

“… There was a boat… There was a b–basin full of potion on the island. The D–Dark Lord made Kreacher drink it…”

The elf quaked from head to foot. Sirius's eyes were wider than Al had ever seen them.

“Kreacher drank, and as he drank he saw terrible thing… Kreacher’s insides burned… Kreacher cried for Master Regulus to save him, he cried for his Mistress Black, but the Dark Lord only laughed… He made Kreacher drink all the potion… He dropped a locket into the empty basin… He filled it with more potion.”

“And then the Dark Lord sailed away, leaving Kreacher on the island…”

Al could see it happening. He watched Voldemort’s white, snakelike face vanishing into darkness, those red eyes fixed pitilessly on the thrashing elf whose death would occur within minutes, whenever he succumbed to the desperate thirst that the burning poison caused its victim… But here, their imagination could go no further, for they could not see how Kreacher had escaped.

“Kreacher needed water, he crawled to the island’s edge and he drank from the black lake… and hands, dead hands, came out of the water and dragged Kreacher under the surface…”

“How did you get away?” Al asked, and he was not surprised to hear himself whispering.

Kreacher raised his ugly head and looked Harry with his great, bloodshot eyes.

“Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back,” he said.

“I know—but how did you escape the dead bodies?”

Kreacher did not seem to understand. But Sirius and Dumbledore did, judging by their faces.

“Al,” Sirius said, “a house elf's prime directive is their master's orders. Regulus told him to come home, so he did. He Disapparated home.”

“But how? Surely Voldemort wouldn't be stupid enough to let people just Apparate in and out of there. It sounds like he expected Kreacher to die in there.”

“Alastair,” Dumbledore said, “Voldemort is very arrogant, and House Elf Apparition is not the same as that of wizards and witches. House Elves can Apparate in Hogwarts, where wizards and witches cannot. Voldemort, in his arrogance, did not bother to learn enough about House Elves to know that Kreacher would be able to escape if ordered to. If he had not been so arrogant, he would have blocked House Elf Apparition as well. Though, if he were not so arrogant, he would not be Voldemort.”

“Oh. Well it's good you came back, Kreacher, but what happened after that? What did Regulus say when you told him what happened?”

“Answer him, Kreacher,” Sirius said in a much kinder tone than usual.

“Master Regulus was very worried, very worried,” croaked Kreacher. “Master Regulus told Kreacher to stay hidden and not to leave the house. And then… it was a little while later… Master Regulus came to find Kreacher in his cupboard one night, and Master Regulus was strange, not as he usually was, disturbed in his mind, Kreacher could tell… and he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave where Kreacher had gone with the Dark Lord…”

And so they had set off. Al could visualize them quite clearly, the frightened old elf and the thin, dark Seeker who had so resembled Sirius… Kreacher knew how to open the concealed entrance to the underground cavern, knew how to raise the tiny boat: this time it was his beloved Regulus who sailed with him to the island with its basin of poison…

“And he made you drink the poison?” said Al, disgusted.

But Kreacher shook his head and wept. Sirius's hands leapt to his mouth: He seemed to have understood something.

“M–Master Regulus took from his pocket a locket like the one the Dark Lord had,” said Kreacher, tears pouring down either side of his snoutlike nose. “And he told Kreacher to take it and, when the basin was empty, to switch the lockets…”

Kreacher’s sobs came in great rasps now; Al had to concentrate hard to understand him.

“And he ordered—Kreacher to leave—without him. And he told Kreacher—to go home—and never to tell my Mistress—what he had done—but to destroy—the first locket. And he drank—all the potion—and Kreacher swapped the lockets—and watched… as Master Regulus… was dragged beneath the water… and…”

“And he was killed by the Inferi,” Sirius said quietly.

The elf broke into fresh sobs, nodding in response to Sirius's words.

Sirius sat back and looked at Al. “I think I understand now why Hermione isn't fond of the fact House Elves have to obey everything. I suppose Regulus thought he was doing Kreacher a kindness by taking the potion himself, but if he could see Kreacher now...” Sirius sighed.

“Kreacher, I have more questions,” Dumbledore. “Please try to calm down so you can answer. You may weep more later. For now, we need to know how we can help you fulfill Regulus's orders.”

To Al's surprise, Kreacher obeyed, even though it hadn't been an order and Sirius hadn't been the one to say it. He wiped his eyes and waited quietly for the questions.

“Where is the locket now?”

“Kreacher has it in his room,” Kreacher said. “The Mudbloods and blood traitors was going to throw it away, as they was doing with all of the things from Masters' and Mistress's house. But Kreacher is saving many things from the rubbish bins, including Master Regulus's locket.”

“Kreacher, you did not fail your orders. Regulus clearly did not know this when he gave his orders, but you stood absolutely no chance of destroying that locket yourself. Few things could destroy something as evil as that, Kreacher. Fiendfyre and basilisk venom are the only two things I can think of that could do it. Fiendfyre is a wizard's spell, and basilisks are quite rare.

“So, Kreacher, if you will go retrieve the locket for us, I believe we have something in the castle which can destroy it. Isn't that correct, Alastair?”

The elf looked up in astonishment at Dumbledore, then at Sirius. Al, for his part, nodded.

“Kreacher,” Sirius said, “go get the locket and bring it here.”

Standing up and saluting Sirius, Kreacher popped away.

“Dobby?” Al said.

Dobby popped into view, looking around the room. “Yes, Alastair Potter Sir?”

“Do you know where Moaning Myrtle's bathroom is?”

“Yes, I is knowing it.”

“I need you to take me there. But first... Dumbledore? Is there anything that can contain basilisk venom?”

“I believe so. One moment.”

Dumbledore stood up and looked in one of his cabinets for a couple minutes. As he did, Kreacher reappeared, startling Dobby.

“Dobby, don't say anything,” Al said. “Kreacher is here with something important for us. Leave him be, please.”

“Of course, sir.” He confined himself to side-eyeing Kreacher warily.

“Aha! Here we are,” Dumbledore said.

He came back to the desk with a large pair of glass flasks that were glowing with hundreds of tiny runes. Al judged you could probably get half a gallon of liquid into all the pair of flasks combined.

“These flasks are enchanted to cause any liquid in them to float inside without touching the walls of the flasks. They should be more than sufficient to contain basilisk venom. Ah, Kreacher, let us see it, then.”

He looked to Sirius, who nodded. “Put it on the desk, Kreacher.” Kreacher nodded and set on the desk a heavy gold locket.

“Before you go, Alastair, Dobby, let me check to make sure this is what I think it is.”

For nearly ten whole minutes, Dumbledore ran various tests on the locket with his wand. But the dead giveaway was when it began to rattle like there was something alive inside of it.

“Yes, I fear this is exactly what I thought it was. Dobby, you may take Alastair to the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets, in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.”

Dobby was shaking. “Is... is Dobby going to be needing to... to go in the Chamber, sirs?”

“No,” Al said. “I'll go in myself. The basilisk knows me. Recently, too, thanks to Hypatia pretending to be me.”

Putting the flasks in his robes, Al took Dobby by the hand. With a CRACK of Apparition, they appeared in Myrtle's bathroom, and she screamed in surprise.

“Oh, it's you again,” she said when she saw him. “You scared me to-- well, you scared me a lot.”

“Sorry about that, Myrtle. But I had to get here fast, and in a way Umbridge wouldn't find out. I'm on a mission from Dumbledore.”

“Going down into the Chamber again?” she asked, shivering.

“Yes, I am.”

“Well good luck.”

Al went over to the sinks, found the right one, and hissed 'Open' in Parseltongue at the snake carved into the tap. Nothing happened, which confused him until he remembered Hypatia had changed the password. So he tried again, with her help: 'And the Earth becomes my throne, I adapt to the unknown, under wandering stars I've grown, by myself but not alone.'

It opened then, and as it did, he thought that the entrance had to have been remodeled by one of the Heirs at some point, because he was pretty sure when the castle was made, the height of toiletry was chamberpots, and people thought washing their hands would make them ill.

The sink sunk into the ground and slid aside, revealing the hole down to the Chamber.

[Ahem. Before you go down there, allow me to point something out I recently discovered.]

Taking control of his voice, Hypatia spoke more Parseltongue. 'Show the platform,' she said.

Part of the shaft opened up and slid aside, and out slid a stone platform with stone handrails. It slid up into place for a person to step inside it. Al walked into the platform and held onto the handrails. A moment later, the platform sank down the shaft. Very near the bottom, Al heard the sound of stone scraping against stone, and then the platform sank into an opening in the shaft that he could see because of faint light that glowed from the platform.

When the platform stopped moving, there was another door, human sized, with realistic looking snakes on its surface.

'Open,' he hissed. When it didn't respond, he tried the earlier password, the lyrics of some song from his time living with Sirius, and that worked.

The door opened like an ordinary door, but of its own accord at the sound of the password. On the other side, torches lit the way ahead. Curious, Al followed it to another door.

With Hypatia's guidance, he said, 'I am the Heir of Slytherin, come to defend the school.' The door opened, and he went inside.

Inside was a room he'd never seen before. It was large, with scores of mirrors arranged like the monitors of security rooms in TV shows, above a large control panel with hundreds of buttons, knobs, and switches. There was space for three seats, but only one chair, which floated there in midair like it was sitting on something invisible. Al waved his hand under it, but contacted nothing. It was levitating.

“What IS this place?”

[The Chamber of Secrets was intended as a panic room in case the castle was attacked. In the case of an attack during the school year, students take the slide down into the Chamber, the Heir comes down here, and they can see all over the castle and grounds with the magic mirrors, directing the basilisk to destroy the invading armies with its deadly gaze and its venom.]

He sat in the chair, and all the mirrors instantly lit up with different views of the castle, mostly corridors but also the Great Hall, the kitchens, and different points on the grounds.

“Holy crap,” he said, looking all around. He could see teachers and prefects patrolling the halls, Hagrid's hut barely visible as it was still dark inside, the Forbidden Forest, and the Black Lake.

Curious, Al read the writing on the buttons, which were in English somehow.

[Translation runes,] Hypatia explained. [Automatically translates the labels into the Heir's language.]

“Cool,” he said.

One button said 'Griffindor Common Room.' He pressed that, and one row of the mirrors changed view to show different views of the Griffindor common room. He saw Fred and George selling their trick sweets, Hermione trying to concentrate on her homework but being distracted by the twins, and Neville next to her doing the same. There wasn't any sound, though.

Next he tried the Slytherin common room. Where the Griffindor common room had looked loud and boisterous, everyone in Slytherin was quietly working or discussing things with other people. He saw Javier off on his own in one corner, working on what he thought was Transfiguration homework.

He pressed a button saying 'Forbidden Forest,' and the mirrors showed him multiple views of the inside of the forest. In one, there were centaurs gazing up at the stars. In another, a unicorn ran by. But in the central pair of mirrors on the bottom row was an artificially brightened view of something he recognized as the acromantula colony. This mirror differed from the others currently in that it now had text written large and bold and blood red across the bottom, saying 'THREAT DETECTED: ACROMANTULA COLONY.'

[It's got a good point,] Hypatia thought at him. [That colony is a threat waiting for an excuse to break out. What happens if Aragog dies? The colony would no longer have a reason to obey Hagrid.]

“Yeah, we should do something about that.”

[It's on my list as of now.]

“Huh. Well, as fascinating as this is, I need to talk to the basilisk.”

Al stood up, but the mirrors kept showing different views. He shrugged, not really caring how to turn it off, and looked around the room a moment. He saw another door out of there, labeled 'Basilisk chamber: proceed with caution.'

Taking a moment first to check the mirror view of that chamber and seeing it empty, Al went through the door and into the basilisk chamber. Closing his eyes, Al said, 'Oh mighty basilisk, can I have a word with you?'

The mouth of the statue of Salazar Slytherin opened up. Al closed his eyes just in case. He heard a bass THUMP as the basilisk hit the ground.

'Yes, Heir? What is it you want? I was napping.'

'Sorry about that. But you remember that other Heir, the one who was mistreating you?'

'Yes. You destroyed him.'

'I destroyed a piece of him. The rest of him is still out there, and he's recently come back to full power.'

'I see. What do you need from me?'

'I was going to ask you nicely if you would please give me some of your venom, in these flasks, so I can use them to destroy most of the other pieces of him so I can some day finally kill the last bit of him that's in his new body now. What do you say?'

'Well, Heir, I say I would be most glad to help you work towards vanquishing our mutual foe. Approach, Heir. You may open your eyes, I have mine closed.'

Al peeked through his eyes and saw the basilisk was telling the truth. It opened its mouth, exposing its fangs. Repressing a shudder, Al screwed up his Griffindor courage and walked up to the basilisk. He and Chandra used their wands to put the flasks in place, not risking their hands or lives to the chance of spilled venom.

'Go ahead,' he said.

~

Sirius was pacing across Dumbledore's office floor, growing more and more impatient the longer it took. Kreacher was staring at the locket with anticipation, flinching every now and then as it rattled like it was alive. Dumbledore was carving runes into a piece of wood on the desk.

“What's taking him so long? He should be back by now. What if he got bitten by that accursed snake? Or eaten. Or petrified! He could get stuck down there, and we'd never be able to help him!”

“Sirius, do calm down. Fawkes knows how to get down there, now that he knows where it is. He could rescue them if need be.”

“What if it's already too late? That venom works pretty fast.”

Dumbledore sighed. “Fine, if it will ease your---”

CRACK! Everyone jumped. Even Dumbledore flinched a little at the unexpected noise.

“Ta da!” Al said, holding up one of the flasks of basilisk venom in the hand that wasn't holding Dobby's hand.

Woozily, Al walked over to the desk and set down the flask, and pulled the other one out and set it down next to the other one. Then he flopped onto the seat.

“What took you so long? I was worried sick!”

“Got distracted by this really cool new room Hypatia showed me. It's a command center for a siege situation, it's awesome.”

“Excellent,” Dumbledore said, referring to the flasks. He tapped the wooden board he'd been carving runes into, and the runes lit up. He set one of the flasks upon it and pulled the glass stopper out of the top.

“It will be best, I think, if we don't risk touching it.”

Dumbledore approached the locket with a metal hook, but the locket started to jump away in little hops. It was no good, though; Dumbledore grabbed the thing by the chain with the hook. It jumped around in a panic as it hung from its chain. Dumbledore held it over the flask and dipped it toward the black venom. Its jumping around in a panic reminded Al faintly of the Dip scene in Who Framed Roger Rabbit, but considering it was a piece of Voldemort's soul, he felt no pity for it.

The chain wrapped itself around the top of the flask, preventing the horcrux from getting any closer to the basilisk venom. With a second metal hook, Dumbledore poked the horcrux down into the venom, where it screamed loud enough the others all covered their ears, thick black smoke billowing from the flask. But some ward in the board the flask sat on contained the smoke until it dissipated.

Dumbledore lifted the limp chain out of the venom and showed them where the locket itself had melted in half. As they watched, the other half fell off the chain and into the venom, which bubbled briefly before returning to normal.

“That makes two down,” he said. “I wish I knew for sure how many were left.”

“Damn him,” Al said. “Priceless historical artifact, and he went and shoved his filthy soul into it. Now it's gone forever.”

“Yes. I believe part of the reason why he chose such an artifact was to make people less likely to want to destroy the horcrux. But the locket was dead the moment he defiled it.”

“What an idiot he is,” Al said. “Why not just put your soul in an ordinary pebble and toss it into the Marianas trench? Then nobody could ever destroy it. You'd only need one of the damned things then.”

“I believe a part of Voldemort must have known that he might change his mind, even if it took a few centuries before he grew tired of life. He wanted a way to back out if he needed to. At least, I hope he did not do as you suggested. I do not think he did, as he is very arrogant.”

“Kreacher, you may return home now if you'd like,” Sirius said.

Kreacher nodded, bowed to Dumbledore, inclined his head at Sirius, and then Disapparated.

Mahala Kadu stared at the flask as Dumbledore put the stopped back in and returned both flasks to a secure cupboard, the same cupboard he'd gotten the flasks from in the first place. When he sat back down, she spoke, gravely.

“I will help you with your Voldemort problem. Directly.”

“You will?” Dumbledore asked, taken by surprise.

“Yes. I did not really believe he made even one horcrux, even though I knew he must have. Today, I saw proof. To think he's made multiple horcruxes... I shudder to think of it. An evil of that magnitude needs to be stopped.”

“Will you now join the Order of the Phoenix, Mahala?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Excellent. We can do that officially in the morning. We shall have to reschedule this meeting, too, so you can get to know the Potters better. Alastair, you may go back to Griffindor now.”

She nodded.

“Well, it's been nice meeting you,” Al said, shaking her hand.

“Likewise, Mr. Potter.”

“Dobby!” Al called.

“I is right here, sir. Dobby is not gone nowhere yet.”

“Oh. Sorry, I forgot.”

He took Dobby's hand, and once more was squeezed through a tube, landing in their bedroom.

“Well, I'm pooped,” Al said, and returned control to Iliana.

Iliana went back to scheduling Quidditch practices, at her desk in their room. She was just finishing up half an hour later when an unfamiliar owl tapped on her window. She got up and let it inside. It sat on the edge of her desk, and she untied the letter from its leg.

The envelope was blank. She warily checked the letter with several spells before opening it and seeing who it was from. It looked like arithmancy notes, with a short line in unfamiliar handwriting at the top saying “Here's the new equation, what do you think?” She couldn't make heads or tails of the maths on it. Hypatia, however, solved it pretty quickly in her head. It was a code for a password. She held her wand to the page and spoke the password, revealing a different letter.

Iliana or Adira or whoever,

Percy here. I'm writing to let you know that Umbridge and Fudge have pushed through a new educational decree, it finally passed today. Umbridge has been given the position of 'High Inquisitor of Hogwarts,' with the power to inspect other teachers and give them the sack if they're found wanting. That debacle with Cedric and the patronus seems to have worked better than we thought at discrediting Cedric, since the paper reported he was charged with using magic in front of Muggles and got off on a technicality. They've also been putting pressure on the Quidditch teams, blocking him from getting on any of the teams, which is what he wanted to be doing with himself for a few years at least. You should write him, convince him to join the Order instead. I know a lot of the Order were recruited right out of school, and he drew with you for the Tournament. I wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore already approached him and didn't tell me.

Keep your head down while she has power. We'll get through this. You-Know-Who will come out of hiding eventually, and when he does, the Ministry will wise up. Until then, she is a nasty piece of work and no matter how bad you think she can be, you're not even close. For your safety, and the safety of the people you love, keep your head down and your mouth shut in her class. I don't know how far she'll go, but I fear it's worse than you can imagine.

Also, don't trust owls from here on out. Once she's High Inquisitor, she'll be able to tamper with the mail. She can be very subtle when she wants to be, so don't trust anything said in owl letters after tonight.

Sorry that I don't know how you'll be able to warn the others without telling my family, but you'll think of something, you're ridiculously smart, if that spell you sent last time is anything to go by. You'll have to tell me how you did that. Just, not in the mail. For now, I think we should do as the Muggles call 'maintaining radio silence.' So do not respond to this letter. Not by owl, anyway. Nor the Muggle post, either.

Remain wary. Don't trust Umbridge. Don't trust the school elves, either; they'll have to obey her. And a reminder: don't tell my family I'm working with Dumbledore. Not yet.

Sincerely,
-Percy

PS = Burn this letter when you're done reading it.

Iliana read it a couple more times to be sure she remembered everything in it, then she Vanished it with her wand, as it was neater than burning it.

She went to bed that night worried about the days ahead.

~
September 11th, 1995

Adira had expected to have to comb Hermione's Daily Prophet carefully next morning to find the article Percy had mentioned in his letter. However, the departing delivery owl had barely cleared the top of the milk jug when Hermione let out a huge gasp and flattened the newspaper to reveal a large photograph of Dolores Umbridge, smiling widely and blinking slowly at them from beneath the headline.

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM
DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED
FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR

"Umbridge — 'High Inquisitor'?" said Adira darkly, her half-eaten piece of toast slipping from her fingers. "What does that mean?"

Hermione read aloud:

" 'In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

" 'The Minister has been growing unsettled about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time,' said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. 'He tells me he is now responding to concerns from anxious parents who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve of.' "

"This is not the first time in recent weeks that the Minister, Cornelius Fudge, has used new laws to effect improvements at the wizarding school. As recently as 30th August, Educational Decree Number Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current Headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person.

" 'That's how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts,' said Weasley last night. 'After Professor Remus Lupin was forced to resign due to recent changes in the laws, and Professor Binns said he was too happy with his retirement to return, Dumbledore couldn't find anyone to replace him, so the Minister put in Umbridge to properly re-educate students on a Ministry-approved version of History of Magic, and providing the Minister with on-the-ground intelligence about what's happening at Hogwarts.'

"It is this last function that the Ministry has now formalised with the passing of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, which creates the new position of Hogwarts High Inquisitor.

" 'This is a new phase in the Minister's plan to get to grips with what some are calling the falling standards at Hogwarts,' said Weasley. 'The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are meeting the Ministry's new standards. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post and we are happy to say that she has accepted.'

"The Ministry's new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts.

" "I feel much easier in my mind now that I know Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation,' said Mr Lucius Malfoy, 41, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. 'Many of us with our children's best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore's eccentric decisions in the last few years and are glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation.'

"Among those eccentric decisions are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the employment of werewolf Remus Lupin, half-giant Rubeus Hagrid and delusional ex-Auror, "Mad-Eye" Moody.

"Rumours abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts.

" 'I think the appointment of the Inquisitor is a first step towards ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose our confidence,' said a Ministry insider last night.

"Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest at the introduction of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts.

" 'Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge's office,' said Madam Marchbanks. 'This is a further, disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore.'

"(For a full account of Madam Marchbanks's alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page seventeen.)"

Hermione finished reading and looked across the table at the other two.

"So now we know how we ended up with Umbridge! Fudge passed this "Educational Decree" and forced her on us! And now he's given her the power to inspect the other teachers!" Hermione was breathing fast and her eyes were very bright. "I can't believe this. It's outrageous!"

“Yeah it is,” said Ron angrily.

Adira said nothing. She had not even mentioned Percy's secret messages to Hermione, for fear she would tell Ron. But Adira knew, and she had noticed some interesting wording in Percy's quotes. 'He tells me he is now responding to concerns from anxious parents,' 'the minister has been growing unsettled,' 're-educate students on a Ministry-approved version of History of Magic,' and even 'inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are meeting the Ministry's new standards,' were all subtle ways of sounding like he was still on the Minster's side, while sowing a seed of doubt in people's minds with his choice of words. If he'd really been on their side, she figured he'd say the Minister was 'uneasy' or 'concerned' rather than 'unsettled,' and she was surprised the Ministry let 're-educated' slip through the editing process, not to mention the part where it sounded almost like Percy was saying 'Ministry-approved version of history.' It was very clever, and very subtle. Muggle-borns might catch on, if they'd at least heard about George Orwell, but she doubted the wizarding-born people would notice, if it got into the papers that way.

(Good gods, why wasn't Percy a Slytherin?) Al thought.

She gave a barely perceptible nod in response. Percy was definitely someone who would have done well in Slytherin.

Adira glanced at Hermione, and noticed she was looking at the article with that look on her face that said something wasn't adding up for her. She mouthed the words 're-educate' and 'Ministry-approved version of History of Magic.' Adira repressed a smile; Hermione was clever, too.

Hermione turned to her. “What's the matter, Adira? You didn't respond. I'd have thought you would, if anybody would.” Her eyes darted to Adira's left hand with its scar from their detentions.

She shook her head slightly as if coming out of a daze and said, “Sorry, lost in thought. But yeah, as if the old toad needs any more power.”

It was a poor performance. Ron bought it, but Hermione was narrowing her eyes at Addy, who went back to her breakfast, trying to ignore her friend.

A grin was unfurling on Ron's face.

“What?” said Addy and Hermione together, staring at him.

“Oh, I can't wait to see McGonagall inspected,” said Ron happily. “Umbridge won't know what's hit her.”

The two girls laughed at this. Then the three of them got up and went to class.

On their way to their first class, Charms, Hermione said, “So you didn't tell me yesterday what you got on your moonstone essay for Professor Snape.”

“I didn't? Wow, I must have been preoccupied. He gave me an A. Not as good as I'd hoped for, but uh,” she checked to make sure nobody else was listening, “Hypatia isn't as good at Potions as Iliana is. If Iliana had done it, I bet we'd have gotten an O.”

“She did your homework for you?”

“Yeah, because of the detentions. It gave me Saturday morning free to spend with Luna.”

“Well, I guess that's okay. But you shouldn't make a habit of letting her do your--”

“What does it matter, Hermione? She's better at maths than the rest of us, and rituals, but she's the same or worse at other subjects. And anyway, she only did it this once, as much for herself as for us.”

Hermione seemed to accept this. Adira repressed a sigh. Really, what did it matter? They had a collective memory, so it wasn't exactly cheating.

Umbridge wasn't inspecting Charms yet, which they were relieved about. But she was there in Transfiguration with a little clipboard in her hand.

"Excellent," whispered Ron, as they sat down in their usual seats. "Let's see Umbridge get what she deserves."

Professor McGonagall marched into the room without giving the slightest indication that she knew Professor Umbridge was there.

That will do," she said and silence fell immediately. "Mr Finnigan, kindly come here and hand back the homework — Miss Brown, please take this box of mice — don't be silly, girl, they won't hurt you — and hand one to each student — "

"Hem, hem," said Professor Umbridge, employing the same silly little cough she had used to interrupt Dumbledore on the first night of term. Professor McGonagall ignored her. Seamus handed back Adira's essay; Adira took it without looking at him and saw, to her relief, that she had managed an 'E'.

"Right then, everyone, listen closely — Dean Thomas, if you do that to the mouse again I shall put you in detention — most of you have now successfully Vanished your conjured snails and even those who were left with a certain amount of shell have got the gist of the spell. Today, we shall be — "

"Hem, hem," said Professor Umbridge.

"Yes?" said Professor McGonagall, turning round, her eyebrows so close together they seemed to form one long, severe line.

"I was just wondering, Professor, whether you received my note telling you of the date and time of your inspec — "

"Obviously I received it, or I would have asked you what you are doing in my classroom," said Professor McGonagall, turning her back firmly on Professor Umbridge. Many of the students exchanged looks of glee. "As I was saying: today, we shall be practising the altogether more difficult Vanishment of conjured mice. Now, the Vanishing Spell — "

"Hem, hem."

"I wonder," said Professor McGonagall in cold fury, turning on Professor Umbridge, "how you expect to gain an idea of my usual teaching methods if you continue to interrupt me? You see, I do not generally permit people to talk when I am talking."

Professor Umbridge looked as though she had just been slapped in the face. She did not speak, but straightened the parchment on her clipboard and began scribbling furiously.

Looking supremely unconcerned, Professor McGonagall addressed the class once more.

"As I was saying: the Vanishing Spell becomes more difficult with the complexity of the animal to be Vanished, which is true whether the animal is real or, as in this instance, conjured. Conjured animals are generally easier to Vanish than real animals though, which is why we've been using conjured animals.

“Now the snail, as an invertebrate, does not present much of a challenge; the mouse, as a mammal, offers a much greater one. This is not, therefore, magic you can accomplish with your mind on your dinner. So — you know the incantation, let me see what you can do . . ."

"How she can lecture me about not losing my temper with Umbridge!" Adira muttered to Ron under her breath, but she was grinning.

Umbridge stayed seated in her little corner the whole time, taking notes. Everyone largely ignored her. When Professor McGonagall finally told them all to pack away, she rose with a grim expression on her face.

“Well, it's a start,” said Ron, holding up a long wriggling mouse-tail and dropping it back into the box Lavender was passing around.

Adira, for her part, had managed to Vanish the entire mouse, and had nothing to turn in. Losing their magic for months and getting it back seemed to have reset their Transfiguration abilities somewhat; it used to be that Zoey was great at wandless Transfiguration but none of them were much good at the wanded variety. But since the reset, they were now equally good at both, for some reason.

As they filed out of the classroom, Adira saw Professor Umbridge approach the teachers desk; she nudged Ron, who nudged Hermione in turn, and the three of them deliberately fell back to eavesdrop.

"How long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" Professor Umbridge asked.

"Thirty-nine years this December," said Professor McGonagall brusquely, snapping her bag shut.

Professor Umbridge made a note.

"Very well," she said, "you will receive the results of your inspection in ten days' time."

"I can hardly wait," said Professor McGonagall, in a coldly indifferent voice, and she strode off towards the door. "Hurry up, you three," she added, sweeping Adira, Ron and Hermione before her.

Adira could not help giving her a faint smile and could have sworn he received one in return.

She had thought - hoped, really - that the next time she would see Umbridge would be in her next History of Magic class, but she was wrong. When they walked down the lawns towards the Forest for Care of Magical Creatures, they found her and her clipboard waiting for them beside Professor Grubbly-Plank.

This inspection went mostly well. Umbridge asked Grubbly-Plank about where Hagrid was, but the woman said she had no idea, she'd just been asked to sub for him, and accepted. Adira was glad when Grubbly-Plank said Dumbledore was very good, and she was quite happy with how Hogwarts was run.

After questioning Grubbly-Plank about the creatures they'd be covering if Hagrid failed to show up, she nodded.

"Well, *you* seem to know what you're doing, at any rate," said Professor Umbridge, making a very obvious tick on her clipboard. Addy did not like the emphasis she put on 'you' and liked it even less when she put her next question to Goyle. "Now, I hear there have been injuries in this class?"

Malfoy looked over at Adira, then whispered something into Theo Knott's ear. Theo Knott snickered, then said, "Yes, Hagrid brought some strange creature called a bang-ended scoot to class, and there were lots of burns and a few stings from the foul creatures."

"True, but Chandra killed the lot of them in revulsion before any of the injuries got serious," Adira said.

Umbridge glared at her, clearly trying to work out a way to twist that into a detention-worthy offense, but failed, since Adira had kept her tone calm and polite. "Five points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn, Mr. Potter," she said.

For a moment, it looked like Grubbly-Plank was going to say something against this, but she seemed to decide not to.

Umbridge turned back to Grubbly-Plank. "Well, thank you very much, Professor Grubbly-Plank, I think that's all I need here. You will be receiving the results of your inspection within ten days."

"Jolly good," said Professor Grubbly-Plank, and Professor Umbridge set off back across the lawn to the castle.

"Sorry about not correcting her, Ms. Potter," Grubbly-Plank said when Umbridge was out of range, "but she could take away my substitute teacher's license if she wanted to."

“It's okay, Professor, I understand.”

~

The next day they had Divination. Al loved messing with Trelawney, so he came Out for this class, but he soon found this was a mistake. He was pulling out his dream diary in a seat at the very back of the shadowy Divination room when Ron elbowed him in the ribs and, looking round, he saw Professor Umbridge emerging through the trapdoor in the floor. The class, which had been talking cheerily, fell silent at once. The abrupt fall in the noise level made Professor Trelawney, who had been wafting about handing out copies of The Dream Oracle, look round.

“Good afternoon, Professor Trelawney,” said Professor Umbridge with her wide smile. “You received my note, I trust? Giving the time and date of your inspection?”

Professor Trelawney nodded curtly and, looking very disgruntled, turned her back on Professor Umbridge and continued to give out books. Still smiling, Professor Umbridge grasped the back of the nearest armchair and pulled it to the front of the class so that it was a few inches behind Professor Trelawney's seat. She then sat down, took her clipboard from her flowery bag and looked up expectantly, waiting for the class to begin.

Professor Trelawney pulled her shawls tight about her with slightly trembling hands and surveyed the class through her hugely magnifying lenses. She passed by Al, who gave her a thumbs-up and a bracing smile that Umbridge couldn't see. Trelawney looked confused a moment, then smiled briefly at Al.

“We shall be continuing our study of prophetic dreams today,” she said in a brave attempt at her usual mystic tones, though her voice shook slightly. “Divide into pairs, please, and interpret each others latest night-time visions with the aid of the Oracle.”

She made as though to sweep back to her seat, saw Professor Umbridge sitting right beside it, and immediately veered left towards Parvati and Lavender, who were already deep in discussion about Parvati's most recent dream.

Al opened his copy of 'The Dream Oracle,' watching Umbridge covertly. She was already making notes on her clipboard. After a few minutes she got to her feet and began to pace the room in Trelawney's wake, listening to her conversations with students and posing questions here and there. Al bent his head hurriedly over his book.

“Think of a dream, quick,” he told Ron, “in case the old toad comes our way.”

“I did it last time,” Ron protested, “it's your turn, you tell me one.”

“Fine, fine. Let's see... okay, so let's say I dreamed Umbridge was being carried off into the Forbidden Forest by a herd of centaurs.”

“That'll get you in detention for sure,” Ron said.

“Alright, then I dreamed that Peeves just stopped restraining himself one day and went on a rampage through the school.”

Ron chortled as he opened his 'Dream Oracle.'

“OK, we've got to add your age to the date you had the dream, the number of letters in the subject . . . would that be 'poltergeist,' 'destruction,' or 'chaos'?”

“Doesn't matter, just pick one.”

Al said, chancing a glance behind him. Professor Umbridge was now standing at Professor Trelawney's shoulder making notes while the Divination teacher questioned Neville about his dream diary.

“What night did you dream this again?” Ron said, immersed in calculations.

“I dunno, last night, whenever you like,” Al told him, trying to listen to what Umbridge was saying to Professor Trelawney. They were only a table away from him and Ron now. Professor Umbridge was making another note on her clipboard and Professor Trelawney was looking extremely put out.

“Now,” said Umbridge, looking up at Trelawney, “you've been in this post how long, exactly?”

Professor Trelawney scowled at her, arms crossed and shoulders hunched as though wishing to protect herself as much as possible from the indignity of the inspection. After a slight pause in which she seemed to decide that the question was not so offensive that she could reasonably ignore it, she said in a deeply resentful tone, “Nearly sixteen years.”

“Quite a period,” said Professor Umbridge, making a note on her clipboard. “So it was Professor Dumbledore who appointed you?”

“That's right,” said Professor Trelawney shortly.

Professor Umbridge made another note.

“And you are a great-great-granddaughter of the celebrated Seer Cassandra Trelawney?”

“Yes,” said Professor Trelawney, holding her head a little higher.

Another note on the clipboard. Al raised his eyebrows.

(Cassandra? Could it be...? But no, it couldn't be. Unless Trelawney had ancient Greek in her lineage. Which, given her appearance, isn't entirely out of the question. Diluted over time, for sure, since she's white, but...)

'What are you on about?' Adira asked Al.

(She could be related to the Cassandra from ancient Greek myths, the one that nobody ever believed.)

Adira didn't know what to say to this, but didn't have a chance to say anything anyway. The toad was croaking again.

"But I think — correct me if I am mistaken — that you are the first in your family since Cassandra to be possessed of Second Sight?"

"These things often skip — er — three generations," said Professor Trelawney.
Professor Umbridge's toadlike smile widened.

"Of course," she said sweetly, making yet another note. “Well, if you could just predict something for me, then?” And she looked up enquiringly, still smiling.

Professor Trelawney stiffened as though unable to believe her ears. "I don't understand you," she said, clutching convulsively at the shawl around her scrawny neck.

"I'd like you to make a prediction for me," said Professor Umbridge very clearly.

Al and Ron were not the only people now watching and listening sneakily from behind their books. Most of the class were staring transfixed at Professor Trelawney as she drew herself up to her lull height, her beads and bangles clinking.

Thinking quickly, Al raised his hand. Obviously relieved by the distraction, Trelawney called on him, bustling over to stand next to him, Umbridge following her. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

“I was just curious about something you said in a previous class, about my wishing to learn how to read the bones. I was wondering if you could give me a demonstration of the technique so I can see it in action?”

“Oh yes, of course my dear boy,” Trelawney said, smiling. Umbridge behind her was frowning as Trelawney went over to a cupboard and pulled out a pouch and leather cloth and brought them over to Al.

Trelawney pulled up a chair next to Al and unrolled the leather cloth before her. She took a bunch of bits and bobs, buttons and bones and even a raven claw out of the pouch and set them on the cloth.

“Please pick an object you feel represents you, Mr. Potter, and set it aside.”

Al looked over the objects carefully, his hand hovering over what he thought was a mouse skull, then over a silver button, but finally he chose the raven talon, setting it to the side. Trelawney nodded, gathered up the other pieces, and shook them in her hand for ten seconds before tossing them back on the leather cloth. She examined the pieces and the pattern they'd made carefully.

“Hem hem,” Umbridge said.

“Please, Professor, she's concentrating. Reading the bones is a difficult branch of Divination, and requires concentration.”

Umbridge glared at him again, but said nothing.

A full minute later, Trelawney sat up and looked at Al.

“These patterns are very fascinating. There was some confusion at first if they applied to all of you, or just to yourself, Alastair, but I have decided on the latter, for you are indeed clever, intelligent like the raven, but also a trickster, also fitting to the raven. Anyway, as you can see by the way this piece here is aligned compared to this one over here...”

Al repressed a grin. He'd taken some of Umbridge's power away by making Trelawney forget about the old toad for a few minutes.

“So in conclusion, Mr. Potter, I believe it is safe to say that you have hard times ahead. But the difficulties shall be rewarding in the end. Specifically, you shall risk your life many times, to save the lives of others. I believe the bones also indicate you will invent new spells that will save lives, and new potions of great power. Perhaps you will become a Healer?”

“I disagree, Professor Trelawney,” Umbrdige said sweetly. “He is a deranged trouble-maker and will likely end up in Azkaban long before he could qualify as a Healer.”

Ignoring Umbridge, Al said, “I think you're picking up on the whole collective, Professor Trelawney. I'm no good at the maths necessary for spell-crafting, and Iliana is the one who's good with Potions. But risking my life to save others, I can see myself doing that.”

“Well of course you can, Mr. Potter!” Umbridge snapped. “You are in Gryffindor! House of the Brave, but also House of the sanctimonious and delusional, given you ended up there.”

He looked up at her with a false smile. “Oh wow Professor Umbridge, I had no idea you were a Gryffindor too! Tell me, was Minister Fudge also a Gryffindor?”

She ground her teeth at him, her eyes bulging and her face going red. The few chuckles people had dared emit stopped abruptly at the sight. Trelawney was shaking and hugging herself again.

Umbridge bent down to face him, which wasn't far given her stature. “I will have you know I was a Hufflepuff, Mr. Potter! And a detention tonight for your cheek! Be in my office before dinner begins!”

Al put on a false appearance of hurt shock. “Professor! I'm terribly sorry if you thought that was cheek, I meant no offense.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I know cheek when I see it, Mr. Potter,” she said sweetly. “I guess I shall have to try extra hard to teach you manners.”

With that ominous statement, she stood up straight. The one good thing to come of the whole encounter, though, was she seemed to have forgotten all about the inspection she was doing, and walked out of the classroom early in a huff.

~

“Relax, guys; how much worse could it be for just one night?” Al asked after class.

“That's just it, I don't know. But I'm scared. She's already torturing you,” Hermione said.

“Oh. Yeah,” Al said, looking worried.

He sent his book-bag back to his room that night with Dobby. The elf looked worried and scared for him, but did as he asked without comment. He asked Dobby to leave him some sandwiches for after his detention, and Dobby nodded, popping away.

Al switched places with Chandra before going into Umbridge's office. He knocked on the door. “Come in,” she said sweetly.

He went inside, closing the door, but what he saw as he looked up made him freeze in his tracks with horror.

“NO!” he said, switching to Adira, then Al, then Iliana. “What is she doing here? What did she do to deserve this?”

Umbridge grinned. Luna looked at Iliana with confused concern. “Hello, Iliana,” Luna said. “You got a detention, too?”

Iliana had her wand out. She hadn't realized she'd done it, but there it was. Umbridge's grin just got wider.

“Oh dear, are you going to attack me, Mr. Potter?”

Luna turned to Umbridge. “Your eyesight must be clouded by shargalumfs, Professor Umbridge. Iliana is clearly a girl. But don't worry, spreading avocado butter on your face will scare away shargalumfs, and clear up your sight.”

“And that, right there, is your answer, Mr. Potter. I suppose it's fitting, two nutters dating one another. Bird of a feather flock together.”

“So she says somewhat mad-sounding things sometimes, so what? Until I was eleven, I thought unicorns and giant three-headed dogs were imaginary creatures. Who's to say Luna isn't just more perceptive than us? Anyway, even if it's imaginary, that's no reason to do... this.”

“Well I daresay you have a point, Mr. Potter. Her imaginary creatures weren't what got her in detention. And before you ask, she's not here just because of you. She's been making a nuisance of herself in class as well, questioning facts and spreading the same lies as you and Dumbledore.”

“So Cedric Diggory is a liar, too?”

“Oh yes, thank you for reminding me of that.” She sent a cat Patronus flying past Iliana and out the door. Iliana stared at the door, amazed such an evil woman was capable of casting such a Light spell as a Patronus.

A few moments later, Filch came in, with Cedric Diggory in tow. Iliana's eyes went wide.

“Cedric? What are you doing here? I thought you graduated!”

“What? No, I was in sixth year last year. This is my final year.” He looked at Umbridge. “Though I'm starting to think I might've been better off dropping out early.”

Iliana turned to Umbridge with angry tears rolling down her face. “You can't do it to all of us, there isn't enough room in here!”

“Oh, don't worry about that, Mr. Potter. Mr. Diggory has been having detentions with me every night since we began school. He's even worse about keeping his temper and his tongue than you are. And like you, the usual punishment has not been working quite as effectively as it could. Expelliarmus! Incarcerous!”

Taken by surprise, both Cedric and Iliana were disamed and tied up.

“You two are going to watch as Miss Lovegood here takes her punishment, since punishing you directly does not seem to be working.”

“NO!”

“What's wrong, Iliana? You sound much too upset for a simple detention,” Luna said.

Iliana shifted to Zoey's form, wriggling out of the ropes and reaching for Chandra's wand. But Umbridge beat them to it. “Incarcerous! Funem stricta!”

Zoey was tied up with more ropes, and the second spell tightened them. She tried shifting even smaller, but the ropes tightened to match, so she couldn't escape. She also didn't want to reveal her Animagus ability to this woman, and doubted it would work anyway. As much as they hated this woman, they made a note to remember that rope-tightening spell.

Umbridge cast the rope-tightening spell on Cedric's ropes as well, then used Sticking Charms to keep them from falling over and missing any of the punishment.

Iliana cried and Cedric shouted imprecations at Umbridge as the old toad handed the black quill to Luna, who hesitated, looking between it and Iliana's crying face. Umbridge silenced the both of them with her wand.

“Miss Lovegood, it is just lines. Your red-headed slattern is just being her usual over-dramatic self. You may ignore her.”

Luna was still hesitating. “Professor, I have never known Iliana to lie to me, and she always gives me the benefit of the doubt. I don't think I should touch that quill.”

“You will use the quill, Miss Lovegood, because I have the Minister's ear, and I can have him send Aurors into your house in search of illegal goods. Given your father's interest in imaginary animals and his gullibility, it should not be difficult to find something to arrest him for.”

This got Luna's attention, and made her eyes wide with fear. “Don't hurt my Daddy!” she said.

“Your father will be left alone for now, if you pick up the quill and write 'I will not tell lies' until I tell you to stop.”

Luna nodded, and picked up the quill. She began writing, and yelped with pain and surprise.

“It cut me! Professor, I need to--- wait, never mind. It's healing.”

“Yes, Miss Lovegood. It is a blood quill. It writes things in your own blood.”

“I'm fairly certain this is an illegal use of this object, Professor,” Luna said.

“Oh, I assure you it's fully legal. I picked up a fun little concept from Muggle law makers, called a 'rider.' Wording my anti-werewolf legislation just right, and I snuck through a law to make this use of the blood quill legal on minors. And you'll find, if you read the school charter, that there is no rule against corporal punishment. Dumbledore never changed the rules, he simply changed their enforcement. Now write, Miss Lovegood.”

It was much more difficult for Luna to write with the blood quill. She kept stopping each time for several minutes before realizing that it would hurt less to just write with the thrice-damned thing. So she did, with a look of defiant determination on her face that made Iliana proud, even if the effect was ruined by the tears running down Luna's cheeks.

As time dragged on, Iliana felt her fear and sorrow about this turn to anger. Al was angry too, but Iliana's own anger felt different. She also felt Adira's anger. Zoey – for all they were stuck in her form at the moment – had vanished, unable to stomach the situation. Chandra, too, was missing. They'd be back.

At some point in the night, Iliana noticed that their hair had turned red. When the old bitch finally let the three of them go at 1 in the morning, Luna looking even spacier than usual but in a worn-down, defeated sort of way, they found out from Cedric that they'd spent the last six hours as a six-year-old version of Iliana's form. She shifted to her regular size when they left Umbridge's office, hugging Luna protectively and crying again.

“We should move along,” Cedric said. “Thanks to Umbridge, I'm no longer a Prefect. It was the first thing she did as High Inquisitor, I think.”

“Yeah,” Iliana said, “Bye, Cedric.”

“Later, Iliana,” he said, leaving for the Hufflepuff dorms.

Iliana began walking along with Luna, holding her girlfriend's writing hand carefully in hers. She wanted to kiss it to try to make it better, but didn't want to risk it hurting more. It had healed anyway, though it was red and inflamed.

“We need to tell Flitwick about this,” Luna said. “Bullying is one thing, but this...”

“I would've done so already if I could,” Iliana said. “But there's a compulsion charm on it. It may be technically legal, but it would look bad for the Ministry if it got out. I'm researching how to lift compulsion charms. She didn't think to add a compulsion against that. I just can't ask for any help from someone who isn't already aware of the issue.”

“Well I'll help with the research, Iliana. And maybe Cedric can help, too. You should ask him about it later.”

“I will. But... I sensed something from you a moment ago. Are... is the bullying happening again?”

Luna nodded. “If I put stuff in my trunk, they can't steal it, the wards on it still work. But they've started putting disgusting things in my bed. Frog spawn, pig bladders... and worse.”

“Worse? Worse how?”

Luna just shuddered. “They also cast a spell on my shampoo the other day in the shower when my back was turned. It made my hair fall out. I had to have Madam Pomfrey help me regrow it.”

“I wish I could bring you to my dorm and keep you safe in there. But I'll have to settle for siccing Fred and George on them. Do you know who's doing it?”

“I can't be sure of all of them. My dorm-mates for sure; Maria Markov, Sally Jacobson, and Cerridwen Cartwright. Maria also has her friend Circe Lancaster bullying me, too.”

“You need to tell the Prefects.”

Luna shook her head. “I have. Only one of them did anything about it, and that just made the problem worse.”

“Then you need to tell Flitwick. If the Prefects aren't doing their job, he needs to know.”

“No. It'll just make things worse.”

“It might get the Prefects fired and replaced.”

“I'm sorry, Iliana, but that wouldn't help either. Everyone in Ravenclaw either bullies me or looks the other way. I'm the House outcast, too weird for any of them. I don't think the Prefects that did nothing were even being mean, I think they just didn't believe me. They think the creatures I talk about are imaginary, and so they think I'm a liar. It doesn't help that I can never look anyone in the eyes, it's too intense for me. In most people, failure to make eye contact is a sign of dishonesty. But I'm not like most people. And I don't lie. Lying is unnatural to me, it hurts. I believe everything I say.”

“I believe you, Luna.”

“Even about the creatures nobody else can see but me and Daddy?”

“I keep an open mind about those. I--”

“What are you two doing lurking about at one in the morning? Up to no good, are you?”

It was Filch, glaring at them by the light of his lamp. Mrs. Norris beside him meowed in an accusing tone.

“Mr. Filch, we had a detention with Professor Umbridge. We were just on our way back to our dorms.”

“Detention? Ha! Tell me another one. A detention going past curfew, what load of hippogriff dung. No, you're up to no good! Come with me to my office for your punishment.”

Iliana didn't have the patience for this. She took her wand out. “Petrificus totalus!” she said, overpowering the spell to catch both Filch and his cat at the same time.

“Obliviate,” she cast on Filch. She felt the memories of his last couple minutes flow through her brain. She erased them, with Hypatia's help, and replaced them with the idea that Mrs. Norris had found Peeves painting nipples on the suits of armor on the ground floor. She did the same to Mrs. Norris, and she and Luna took off before the two of them could snap out of it, casting a dispel on the petrifying spell as she rounded the corner.

“Dobby!”

Dobby appeared with a faint pop a couple feet in front of her. “Miss called--”

Iliana shoved Luna's hand into Dobby's and said, “Take her back to her dorm now before a teacher catches us, Dobby, please and thank you. Now!” Obliviating a squib like Filch was one thing, but if they ran into a teacher, they'd be up shite creek without a paddle.

Dobby nodded, and he and Luna disappeared with a pop. Iliana focused on their animagus power, and shifted into the form of a ginger cat, immediately running off to Griffindor.

It wasn't until she got there that she realized she'd have to shift back to human, wake up the Fat Lady, and give the password. Or so she thought.

[Let me,] Hypatia said. Iliana gave control of the body over to her.

A little ways down the corridor from the Fat Lady was, apparently, a secret passage into Griffindor that was only big enough for cats to get through. The impression of a cat's paw was embedded in the stone of the wall, barely visible even at this height; it would be invisible at human height. Hypatia touched their paw to the mark, and then ran right at the wall, phasing through it just like at platform nine and three-quarters. They came out through a hole to one side of the fireplace, behind the metal cylinder that held the fire poker in it, so you'd have to be standing right by the poker and looking down at the wall to see a cat coming through it. It all seemed a bit involved for normal cats to use, so she wondered if an animagus had put it there. Or maybe someone who owned a kneazle had put it there?

When they got back to their dorm room, Hypatia used a paw a crudely-carved cat's paw carved into the door. It glowed, and the door opened. They went inside, the door closed on its own, and they became human again.

Dobby popped quietly several feet in front of Iliana.

“Miss Luna Lovegood will be glad to see you is made it back safe, Miss. But she is asking Dobby to ask you why you is sending her with Dobby and not asking him to be coming back.”

“If you can do it without waking anyone up or letting anyone else overhear, Dobby, you can tell her that I can become a cat at will.”

“You is a cat animagus, Miss?”

“Something like that, yes. Thank you for your help, Dobby. Now go answer Luna's question, please. And let her know I'm back in my dorm.”

He nodded and popped away again.

She wished she had a two-way mirror set to call Luna on, but she didn't. Or something along similar lines. Then she could communicate securely with Luna, maybe even any time of the day. She really wanted to continue the conversation they'd been having when Filch had found them. She was still thinking about it half an hour later, just before falling asleep.

Endnotes: Okay so, intense chapter. Next chapter is a fun one, though, to make up for it. I mean, it's gonna start out a bit intense, but halfway through it gets fun. (Yes, I'm already almost done with the next chapter!)

Yes, I'm making Umbridge more horrible. Her downfall will be all the sweeter for it. Sorry for the seriousness lately, but fighting fascism is serious business. (And what Fudge and Umbridge were doing was indeed fascism, even if it was Fascism Lite.) For anyone wanting more humor in this story, I have some ideas for such in later chapters, to make it up to you.

Also yes, I headcanon Umbridge as a Hufflepuff. She's very loyal to Fudge, and I've always hated how almost all the villains were Slytherins in the books. (The three exceptions being two Ravenclaws and a Gryffindor.) I've also always loved the idea of a Hufflepuff villain. And given what I've read of her back story from Rowling, it's easy to see her as a Hufflepuff that went bad like rotten meat.

funem stricta = Google Translate Latin for “tight rope.”

I was going to have Umbridge go after Luna a chapter or so back, but it went off the rails when I did, so I rewrote that chapter and redid the idea differently here.

As to Cedric, reading another fanfic made me realize he would have been in school still, since he survived in this fic. I can't believe I forgot that. Anyway, given that they don't hang out in the same circles, it's believable the Potters could have missed the fact he was there for the ten days of school they've had thus far.

And finally yes: the Chamber of Secrets password is now in fact Metallica lyrics. The album is from 1992, and Sirius has been keeping up with Muggle music, so it's possible for Hypatia to have heard that song. I thought that stanza was fitting. :)