Chapter 72: SchemingSummary:Hazel and Grindelwald scheme and feel smug.
Chapter TextAt nine o'clock Hazel arrived at Grindelwald's office, and like before the door opened as she was about to knock. She went inside, finding a spartan office space dominated by a massive desk of some dark hardwood. A fireplace roared, and the windows were wide open to the snow-covered grounds outside. "Sir, do you heat up easily?"
"Miss Potter." He was adjusting the cuffs of his suit, a different one from what he had worn to dinner. She was glad Victorian fashion was out of, well, fashion. "It is not so much that I heat up easily, as that spending fifty years in a drafty tower cell forces one to acclimatize to the chill. But do sit down."
Rather than the desk, he gestured to a smaller table off to one side, upon which a tea service was waiting for them. "Let us review your goals for tonight's session, shall we?"
"Yes sir." She went and took a seat, and he did likewise. "I have returned the Elder Wand to Professor Dumbledore, and tonight I wish to bait Tom Riddle and make him panic. The loss of Nagini should have panicked him already, since I gathered from previous eavesdropping that she was a source of potion ingredients he required to sustain him. However, I shall taunt him with knowledge of the Prophecy, and then accidentally reveal the existence of the Elder Wand. Dumbledore and I believe he will then direct his resources and soldiers to hunting it down, and they will learn that Dumbledore has been in possession of it for several decades."
She paused to sip her tea, after confirming her rings did not react to it. "Riddle will attack Dumbledore and claim the Wand for himself, and then, believing himself omnipotent, he will attempt to attack me. But since I am the Mistress of Death and the Wand's ultimate master, his attack will fail, and we theorize he will only succeed in destroying the piece of his soul lodged in my forehead. After that, I and my allies will weaken and subdue him, and I will end his life with my revolver."
Grindelwald nodded, and his smile was grim. "An excellent strategy, Miss Potter. May I suggest, however, that you let Riddle believe the trap is of his own making? You are, after all, his last remaining tie to immortality, and I do not believe he has lost all sense of self-preservation."
Shit. Maybe she shouldn't have left herself for last? Well, it's not like she could have predicted Voldemort would turn his fucking snake into a Horcrux, or that Arthur would have used lethal force against the thing, so this wasn't on her. "And he knows I'm his last Horcrux too."
Grindelwald merely smiled wider. "It is still quite simple, my dear. Wait for him to attack someone whom he wishes dead, and jump in the way of his Killing Curse."
"If I'm doing that then I could-"
But she cut herself off, astounded at the audacity of the idea now forming in her head. She continued more slowly. "I could go with Dumbledore, under the Cloak of Invisibility. I could watch them duel, which would be worth watching in any event so I should probably bring reporters with me. Then, once Riddle claims the Wand, he'll turn it on Dumbledore and attempt to kill him-"
"-whereupon you leap forth, take the Curse yourself, shed the shards of that creature's soul, and blow his fool head off with your Muggle contraption!" Grindelwald cackled. "A delightfully Gryffindorish plan in its simplicity! And so much could go wrong!"
"Then you'd better be there to make sure everything stays on track!"
"Oh, I'd be violating so many rules of my parole, they'd send me right back to Nurmengard if they ever found out. But to hell with it! Albus will shield me, and some things are worth the risk!" The old warlord seemed positively giddy at the prospect of facing Riddle, and to be honest, Hazel was feeling a bit giddy herself.
"So what about timing, sir? Can we get right into it, or should we wait?"
Grindelwald leaned back, eyes narrowed as he considered the possibilities. "We can set the bait tonight. It will take Riddle some time to verify the existence of the Elder Wand, and track it down to Albus. His Azkaban rescuees will soon be ready to serve too, so it would be best for England if they were preoccupied with chasing ghost stories."
"Alright then, sounds like we're doing it tonight."
"No more waiting, we do this now." He flicked his wand, and the skull on the shelf floated towards them; Hazel noticed it had some tubes poking out of it. "This is a hookah of my own devising, its enchantments will allow me to see what you see during your sojourn into Riddle's mind. I have blended a mixture tonight that will enhance your mental offense, as well as defense. Also, your rings may react depending on how sensitive they are, but that is simply because of the additives; when we're done I shall teach you a purging charm that will cleanse your lungs, mouth, and throat of any residue."
"Alright." She watched as he lit the skull with a flick of his wand, and when she took the stem her rings twitched, but did not squeeze down like they would have if it were true poison. "So, what, I put this in my mouth and suck on it?" He nodded, and she did so, pulling for a few moments before the smoke reached the stem; she coughed as it hit her lungs, but it hit her mind immediately, and she kept puffing. "You couldn't achieve this effect with tea, like last time?"
"The mental effects, yes, but not the projection; I wish to see what you see, and offer guidance if it be necessary."
"Oh, okay." Hazel kept puffing until her head was all swimmy, then she leaned back, closing her eyes, reaching out with Legilimency; it was the same as before, all she had to do was follow the slimy residue outside the castle…
Her expeditions before had been vague and indistinct, out of focus, but this time everything was sharp. She saw Snape holding the door, and nine cloaked figures entering the room, lining up, bowing to one knee. At her side were the same pale fingers she was used to seeing, clutching the arm rests of a chair. Throne? She knew right away she was inside Voldemort's head.
He was speaking: "Our friends, our loyal friends. Rabastan, Rodolphus, Antonin, Thorfinn, Amycus, Alecto, Upton, Mulroy, Hadrian. We are pleased to see you all hale and hearty once more. Please, stand."
The first to rise and throw his hood back was a tall wizard with Eastern European features and a slight accent. "My Lord, the pleasure is being ours. Tell us how we may serve!"
The second to rise was Rodolphus Lestrange, whom Hazel had once seen in a Pensieve memory. "My lord, where is my- where is Bellatrix?"
Voldemort chuckled. "Your wife? She serves us in other ways, as does the Rakepick woman. Put them out of your mind, Rodolphus, we have far more interesting affairs to discuss tonight~"
Hazel tried not to think too hard about what those other ways might be. She heard Grindelwald laugh. "Focus, Potter. Now is the time to interrupt. Do not hold back!"
This time, her attempt to take control was successful. She wasn't sure if it was because of her powers as Mistress of Death, or from the crap she was smoking, or even because she was possessing Voldemort directly rather than by proxy. Whatever it was, she encountered little resistance.
Whatever instructions he was giving were cut off abruptly. She felt him in the back of his own mind, confused and furious. She looked down at his body and grimaced. "Gross!"
What is the meaning of this?! Potter?!
"Shut up, old man, the grownups are talking." It was incredibly surreal, standing here before the confused Death Eaters, in Voldemort's creaky old body, speaking in his high, cold voice. She drew his wand. "Rabastan, approach."
"M-My lord?" Rabastan bore a passing resemblance to his brother, a resemblance that would not save him tonight.
Hazel aimed the wand. "Avada Kedavra."
A flash of green light, and the man fell over, dead. Rodolphus howled in fury and whipped his own wand out, but she was ready for him! "Crucio!"
The panicking Death Eaters didn't know which way to turn. One of them, the hulking Rowle, backed away to the door. "Snape! Do something!"
Snape merely sneered. " Do what, precisely? Die? It is not my place to question our Lord's whims."
Hazel lowered the wand and released Rodolphus from the torture. "Snape! Tell me how much of that Prophecy you overheard, would you kindly?"
The others were even more confused, but Snape, who knew Hazel's speech patterns well enough, realized instantly what was going on; she could tell by the subtle shift in his expression. But he didn't let on. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…"
"And the Dark Lord will mark her as his equal, but she will have power the Dark Lord knows not! You hear me, old man? Power the Dark Lord knows not!"
W-What are you saying, Potter? How did you come by this?! She felt him trying to reverse the connection, pry her mind open, and rebuffed him with a laugh.
"Good luck, old man~!" With one last laugh she withdrew, and Voldemort staggered as he suddenly regained control of his body. Hazel made herself small so she could watch the aftermath.
Voldemort straightened swiftly, and regarded the still-panicked Death Eaters with a cold eye. "This is the price of disloyalty. Now go, all of you. Seek out this power the Dark Lord knows not!"
The eight surviving minions could not flee fast enough. Snape remained, cool and inscrutable as always. "My Lord."
"Shut the door, Severus." Snape did so, and sealed it with the same locking and muffling charms Hazel liked to use. "Potter was here, in my head. In my body!"
"I noticed, my Lord. But I did not dare speak, for it would have weakened your position." He approached Voldemort and cast numerous diagnostic charms. "She seems to be gone, for now. I shall arrange for mind-bolstering herbs to be delivered immediately, so you can improve your mental defenses against further intrusion."
"Yes… yes, Severus… We curse the luck that prevented us from learning the full weight of that damned Prophecy. And to think that she simply walked into the Ministry and took it for herself!"
"Horrendous luck indeed, my Lord."
Hazel decided to withdraw fully at that point, confident there was nothing more useful to be gained tonight. Her mind flew back into her body, and it was a much gentler landing this time. "Well, Professor?"
"Impeccably done, Miss Potter. Now, how do you intend to divert his attention to chasing the Elder Wand?"
"I'll send a letter to Dumbledore, asking him to arrange an exclusive interview with Rita Skeeter. And I should also inform him of the greater change in plans too." Not even waiting to come down, she reached for quill and parchment and began writing.
Professor Dumbledore,
There's been a change in plans. Tomorrow I need you to arrange an interview with Rita Skeeter as quickly as possible; she's been out of work lately, so this shouldn't be hard. During this interview, you need to mention the Elder Wand and the Deathly Hallows, and ensure they get printed.
Also, when it comes time for your confrontation with Voldemort, I need to be present. I will spend most of the duel under the Cloak of Invisibility, and when he "claims" the wand you need to goad him into trying to kill you with it. This way I can step in and take the Killing Curse in your place; Grindelwald helped me realize that even with the Elder Wand, Voldemort would not dare make further attempts on my life, since I am the last Horcrux tying him to immortality.
It is more likely he will attempt to capture me, and we cannot allow that.
Send an immediate reply back with Winky.
-HJP
She then rolled and sealed the letter and summoned Winky. "Winky!" The elf appeared and bowed. "Take this to Dumbledore immediately, and wait for him to respond. Make sure he's alone, however."
"Right away, Mistress Hazel!" Winky accepted the scroll, curtseyed and blinked away.
Grindelwald poured tea, and they whiled away the time until Hazel sobered up. Winky popped back into existence, a new letter in hand, and Hazel accepted it with a pat on her head and opened it up:
Miss Potter,
I can't say I agree with this new permutation, but your reasoning is sound, so I have no choice. I shall arrange for the interview first thing in the morning, and pull strings to ensure it is published as widely and quickly as possible.
Your servant,
-Albus Dumbledore
"Good, everything is in motion." Hazel put the letter down with a sigh. "Now for the hardest part: waiting. Wait for the interview to go live, wait for Riddle and his goons to track down the Wand, hope we have enough forewarning for me to get to where they'll be, wait for the fight to end the right way…"
"Yes, quite a few moving parts." Grindelwald seemed sympathetic as he poured more tea. "However, I can assure you that waiting is the best thing you can do for the moment. If events proceed as I have foreseen, everything will be done and dusted before your next birthday."
Hazel finished her tea and stood. "I appreciate your help tonight, Professor. Good night, and I'll see you in class."
"Indeed you shall." He nodded in reply to her bow, and she left without another word.
Anticipation bubbled in her guts as she strode through the empty corridors to the Slytherin common room. Everything was coming to a head soon, this whole charade would be over and done with. Voldemort would be dead, her friends would be alive. Well, the friends who counted anyway.
Which friends didn't count? Ronald? Draco? Neville?
It was strange to realize she was actively consorting all of her male friends into a "doesn't count" group. Less strange to realize none of her female friends were going there because she was fucking them. Except for Millicent, but she counted.
Hazel spent the rest of the walk rationalizing this, and by the time she reached the common room she was well and truly worked up. So she did her evening workout, then dragged Daphne to the showers for a long, hot, wet shag.
Chapter 73: More LessonsSummary:A few lessons, a few minor revelations, etc. Nothing world-shaking, not yet anyway.
Chapter TextThree days later, Skeeter's interview with Dumbledore was in every newspaper and magazine published in wizarding England, a testament both to Dumbledore's influence and the number of editors Skeeter could blackmail. Hazel skimmed the article, glossing over the self-congratulatory drivel; phrases like "object of immense power" and "the very nature of power itself" stood out to her, and she wondered how much of this had been written by a Quick-Quotes Quill.
Well, whatever. She took lunch in her dorm, and got the mirror out to check with Sirius. "Sirius Black."
Moments later, he appeared. "Hazel? What's the matter?"
"Nothing much. Did you guys see that interview with Dumbledore?"
He scoffed. "Everyone saw that interview! People go crazy over anything to do with Dumbledore, especially with Fudge still clinging to power!"
Seriously? "Weren't you guys planning to have him assassinated?"
"We were, but we decided martyring him was a bad idea. Why are you asking about the interview, anyway?"
She smirked. "I might have had a hand in making it happen, actually. It's part of a larger scheme to lure Voldemort into a trap."
"Oh? Lemme guess, you're gonna use this Elder Wand thing as bait and then tear him to pieces?"
"Something like that, yeah."
"Huh. I guess you guys know what you're doing."
Hazel cocked an eyebrow. Something was off, usually he'd be more overprotective by now. "Everything alright, Sirius?"
"Huh? Oh, it's no-" He cut himself off, visibly dithering, then scowled. "Fuck it, you're old enough to hear this. I met someone new at my Muggle job a few days back, and we're going out on Friday. Remus is on board, he's been saying I need to get out more anyway. I think he's just anxious to hook up with Tonks."
Hazel cocked another eyebrow. "Nymphadora Tonks? Wow, I never would have put those two together. They didn't seem to have any chemistry when I was visiting."
"Right? I'm glad I'm not the only one!" He laughed his bark-like laugh. "I guess it's because they've been cooped up inside a lot lately. Remus is younger than he looks, and Tonks isn't scared of his furry little problem."
"Ten sickles says once the weather improves, you lot will be going to war again." Maybe even sooner, if their ploy with the Wand paid off and got Voldemort's goons distracted. But Sirius didn't need to know that. "Well, good luck on your date."
"Thanks. Take care, kiddo." The connection went dark, and Hazel went on with her day.
Care of Magical Creatures was interesting, that week. Charlie was showing them thestrals, the strange, fleshless, winged horse-like creatures Hazel had been able to see since her second year. Neville and most of the Slytherins could see them too, and Hazel suspected they might have witnessed their parents murdering beloved servants or some such.
Charlie, who had probably seen quite a few coworkers snuff it in his time as a dragon keeper, had no trouble leading the lesson once Hagrid summoned them out of the Forbidden Forest with half a dead cow and a funny shrieking cry. "Forget everything you think you know about thestrals! They're dead useful, they are. Loyal to a fault, perfect sense of direction once trained, and they can carry up to twice their own weight in passengers or cargo."
Ron was frowning. "But why can't everyone see them?"
It was Hagrid who answered. "Cuz, Ron, on'y folk what seen 'n un'erstood death can see 'em."
"Oh… but I saw Fred's pet scorpion snuff it once!"
Hermione stepped on Ron's foot, and he yelped but didn't interrupt again.
To be fair, it was an unnerving sight even if one could see the things, with their bulging white eyes and funny, toothless mouths. Instead of teeth they had sharp beaks like birds, with which they plucked at the cow carcass, tearing off bits of flesh. She imagined that was the worst part, for those who couldn't see the things.
And of course, Charlie had to give them another lecture on OWLs, which were looming closer than ever. Hazel had frankly forgotten all about them, what with everything going on outside the castle. She wasn't the least bit worried about passing stupid tests, but she couldn't let on about it; the others were looking to her to set an example, after all.
Besides, she didn't care to be on the receiving end of one of Hermione's rants about academic integrity or whatever the fuck. Much better to stand back and listen as she ranted at some other fool instead. And there was no shortage of fools in Gryffindor!
Best of all, when she got too wound up, Hazel or Ginny or any of the other girls could swoop in with a snog and a squeeze to short-circuit her annoyance and make her calm down again. A calm Hermione was the best Hermione, as everyone agreed.
That night, Hazel ignored the curious looks of her girls and went to bed early, curious to see if Voldemort and his followers were reacting to today's news. She curled up beneath the sheets, put up the usual privacy charms, and sank into Legilimency…
A dark chamber, cloaked figures… in the corner of sight, pale fingers gripped arm rests…
A high, cold voice… "The Elder Wand, you said?"
One of the cloaked figures spoke up quickly, his voice familiar… "Yes, my Lord. At least, this is what the papers claimed. The Elder Wand has been the source of Dumbledore's unbeatable power for decades."
The pale fingers squeezed tighter on the arm rests… "Surely this is a trap. They expect us to waste our time searching for this Elder Wand, searching for Dumbledore."
Another cloaked figure stirred… "My Lord, I can confirm that it is not a mere fairy tale. The Elder Wand is real, it has dominated-"
The pale fingers lifted, pointed, flicked… the cloaked figure writhed and screamed… "We did not claim to disbelieve, Lucius! We paid attention in those abominable History lessons, just like the rest of you! And clearly, so has Potter!"
"What will you do, my Lord?"
The pale fingers lowered, the cloaked figure collapsed… "It is obviously a trap. There is no other explanation for why the old fool has waited so long to speak of it, and so publicly too. What does he intend to do? Lure us into public scrutiny? Attempt to kill or capture us?"
The other cloaked figures shifted nervously, but the first remained steady… "Dumbledore knows he cannot kill you, my Lord, not without putting Potter at risk as well. Surely he intends to capture you, but for what purpose, even I cannot discern."
"Very well, Severus." The pale fingers flexed and loosened… "The lure of an unbeatable wand is a strong one, especially when gripped in the hands of a very mortal, very beatable old wizard."
An unusually small figure fidgeted beneath his overlarge cloak… "M-My Lord! Are you seriously considering it?!"
"Why not? Dumbledore is old and frail, and even in our current state, we are strong enough for him. We will find him, attack him, claim the Wand, and use its power to restore our health. Then…"
"Then?"
The pale fingers flexed, then the body attached to them stood up… "Then, we march on Hogwarts. We march on Potter. We shall devise a way to extract our soul from her body, and create Horcruxes anew. All of you, go forth. Find Dumbledore, but do not attack. Lure him to us, if possible."
The figures bowed and scraped and departed quickly…
Hazel withdrew and opened her eyes. Why was he so obsessed with getting back at her and Dumbledore? Wasn't he above all that? Maybe she'd infected him with her hormones when she fucked up his resurrection. Well, that was what he got for relying on a teenager to cooperate with his bullshit.
Eager to derail that train of thought before it left the station, she poked her head out the curtains. "Oi, who wants to shag tonight?"
"Me!" said three voices at once, followed by an argument only one participant took seriously, about who got shagged or fingered last.
Hazel let it drag out, then went for the jugular. "Daphne, get over here. Pansy and Tracey, shag each other if you're so horny." Daphne happily climbed into Hazel's bed, and Pansy grumbled but settled in with Tracey willingly enough.
The night went by quickly after that, and Hazel forgot what she wanted to forget.
In the morning Hazel woke up using Daphne for a pillow, which was a lovely way to wake up. Leaving her behind wasn't so lovely, but she'd manage. She did her morning things and went up to breakfast, where the morning paper was waiting for her. She flipped it open and glanced at the front page, absently assembling breakfast sandwiches out of croissants, eggs, bacon and hot sauce with wandless magic.
"Christ Almighty, is Fudge ever gonna give up?" The man dominated the front of the paper, gesticulating furiously. Apparently he had given a whole-ass speech in response to Dumbledore's interview, surrounded by his filthy mercenaries and warlocks. The others at the table were muttering and shaking their heads, and Hazel ate with one hand and read the paper with the other. Most of Fudge's speech was bullshit, but bits of it stood out: "There IS no Elder Wand!" "We NEED security!" "I'm going to MAKE THE MINISTRY GREAT AGAIN!"
Draco tossed his paper aside with a sneer. "If Father still had influence in the Ministry he'd have removed Fudge months ago, this kind of instability is horrible for business."
Hazel cocked an eyebrow. "What business? I thought the Malfoys just lived off their ancestral gold?"
That earned her a glare. "Don't be a degenerate. We had investments, charities, philanthropic things. Sure, most of it was to keep our name out of the mud, but our money did legitimate good in the world too. Mother kept it going, but she also had to remove the bulk of our wealth to France to keep it out of Fudge's reach, and so that the instability around England wouldn't impoverish us."
That instantly set off alarms in Hazel's head. "Should I have done the same with my gold?"
"I'd bet anything Sirius or your account manager already thought of that. Sirius is your legal guardian, right? He can make decisions on your behalf."
Hazel tried to rationalize the panic away. Sirius only had ready access to some of her wealth, the rest was reserved for her discretion, or else tied up in local companies and investments. And Griphook wouldn't be able to carry out mass divestments to escape Britain without her say-so, would he? The last time she had corresponded with him was regarding Fred and George's mail order prank business; the last time they had spoken in person was regarding the Crouch estate.
"How does it work? Does he have emergency taxation powers, civil forfeiture?"
Draco shrugged. "I'm not sure, to be honest."
She decided to write to Griphook right away, finished breakfast and hurried to Charms, where she could sit down and dash off something quick before class started. Flitwick was there, of course, preparing for the day's lecture with his usual good cheer. "Eager to get started, are we, Miss Potter?"
"Yes sir, but that's not why I'm in a hurry this morning. I needed a few minutes to write a letter and I didn't have time to run all the way back to my dorm and then to the Owlery before class."
"Fair enough, fair enough!" He went back to his work, and Hazel bent over a fresh sheet of parchment.
Griphook,
I apologize for the curtness of this missive, but it has come to my attention that Fudge may have some taxation powers or civil forfeiture authority or something, allowing him access to privately held gold or properties. Have his people attempted to seize anything belonging to me or my godfather?
Even if they haven't, I wish you to begin divestment procedures to get a decent portion of my gold out of England. Fudge can't last much longer (though we've been saying that for months), but we have no guarantee the next administration won't go off the rails.
Please reply as soon as you can,
-HJP
She rolled the scroll and sealed it so only Griphook could open it, then quietly summoned Winky. "Winky, give this to Hedwig in the Owlery, tell her to take it to Griphook. When she gets back with a reply, bring it straight to me, even if I'm in class. Understood?"
"Yes, Mistress Hazel." Winky took the scroll, curtseyed, and disappeared again. Moments later, class began, and Flitwick didn't say another word about her early arrival. He was in full OWL prep mode, and they had to be, too. Today, he was teaching them the Eradication Charm, useful for dismissing constructs and erasing images left behind by magic. As usual, Hazel learned it quickly, and helped the others who were still struggling.
After lunch, Winky brought a rather heavy reply from Griphook, and Hazel ducked into an empty classroom to read it.
Heir Potter,
You may rest assured that the Ministry has made no such efforts, and we would rebuke them in no uncertain terms if they tried. Only a full vote of the Wizengamot may authorize a breach of our vaults, and as you are well aware, the Wizengamot has been dissolved.
Your holdings outside the bank are likewise protected. Minister Fudge is in no position to attempt to navigate the bureaucratic nightmare that precludes the seizure and condemnation of an Heir's property, not when his Senior Undersecretary is still in confinement. Capitalism trumps authoritarianism, in this case.
If, however, you are still worried, simply confirm your prior authorization and I shall begin making foreign investments to diversify your holdings. You have the option of indicating your preferences, or you may rely on my discretion; I assure you, your financial wellbeing is my top priority.
On another matter, the rebuilding of your family home in Godric's Hollow has been completed, and the deeds transferred to your primary vault. I have enclosed copies of the receipts and work orders, as well as photographs of the house and the construction process. Lord Black has the originals, naturally.
Griphook V
Senior Account Manager
The work orders and receipts were a bunch of gibberish to her. The photographs were far more interesting, and she regarded them keenly. Every step of the process had been meticulously recorded for posterity, from the initial demolition, clearing and leveling of the site, and tearing out the old foundation. Planting a new foundation, setting wards and permanent charms, the new construction, even linking the building to Muggle utilities like water and power.
The end result was a quaint cottage on the outside, but a palatial mansion on the inside that put Grimmauld Place to shame. It even had a Muggle Mode for when locals came to visit, which would conceal the obvious magical features, fold up the extra-dimensional spaces, and make everything seem like a regular, boring old cottage. It also came with a full array of Muggle-Repelling Charms that could be switched on or off, and the forward-facing areas were suggested to be Muggle-friendly as a matter of course anyway, if only so the telly and appliances didn't get overloaded.
As useful as magic was, there were some things Hazel figured she'd be more comfortable doing the Muggle way. Clothes, for one thing. And even with bottomless purses, a credit card was much more graceful than carrying a bunch of coinage around; sure, a few high-end shops did something similar by billing Gringotts directly, but common magical shops still demanded direct payment. Also, plumbing! She'd heard once that mages used to just shit themselves and vanish the evidence afterward, which was gross, but maybe easier to get away with when one wore voluminous robes everywhere.
Now that she had successfully squicked herself, Hazel put the photos and paperwork back in the envelope and put it away, and went back to her day. Arithmancy was coming up and Vector had little patience for tardiness.
Chapter 74: Tea with McGonagallSummary:Exactly what it says on the tin.
Chapter TextThe rest of January went by this way, a haze of snogging and shagging, homework, patrols, and the occasional jaunt into Voldemort's mind. Hazel began to wonder if he had become exclusively nocturnal; he never seemed to be active during the day anymore, and she'd gotten into the habit of peeking.
For comparison she used Legilimency on other sleeping people too, and noticed their minds were still active. Even in deep sleep, there was activity, however slow. But Voldemort's mind was dead during the day, his thoughts and memories open to her. Was he so deeply asleep that his mind went still? Was she wriggling through some gap in his Occlumency? Or maybe it was the herbs Snape had procured for him, supposedly to help keep her out?
Her mind whirled as it sought out explanations, and she let it whirl. Maybe he was a vampire! Maybe he needed super-strength potions to sleep! Maybe he used Occlumency so she only saw what he wanted her to see!
…that last one was stupid. If he were using Occlumency she wouldn't be allowed in at all, let alone be able to access his thoughts and memories. And it contradicted one of her previous ideas. "Fuck, my mind is so stupid sometimes."
February came around, and there were suddenly a lot of girls interested in her, girls Hazel had never shown any interest in. Hazel wasn't too snooty for a little attention, and she knew damn well they were looking for a Valentine's Day date. She doubted half of them were lesbians, or even bisexual; they just wanted to be seen out and about with Hazel Potter. Either that or some boy was hounding them for a date and getting her on their side was the first thing they thought of to make the boys back off.
So she smiled, and hugged them and snogged them, and made sure the boys lurking in the background saw it, and if the girl in question got a bit starry-eyed, why, she kissed her some more and led her off to some empty classroom to see if she was as straight as she thought she was.
As for her actual plans for Valentine's Day? It was a Wednesday this year, so maybe she'd sneak off for a shag or two here and there, and there was a Hogsmeade trip that weekend which was the real goal of all these girls. She knew exactly what they were counting on; that she'd lure them off for tea and crumpets at Madam Puddifoot's, kiss them over chocolates, maybe snog them stupid in the alley out back.
And she had been content to let them all count on that, until a paper house cat leapt up and landed on her shoulder, at lunch on the first Friday of the month. "Oh, hello there." It nuzzled her cheek and began unfolding, and she reached up to pluck it off her shoulder.
Daphne giggled. "Another secret admirer, Hazel?"
Hazel made a shooing motion in her direction, and unfolded the paper all the way. In spidery handwriting she read:
Miss Potter,
Please join me for tea, this afternoon before supper.
-Headmistress McGonagall
"Not a secret admirer, just the Headmistress asking me for tea."
Daphne and the others winced, but Hazel just balled the note up and stuck it in her pocket. She wondered what the Headmistress wanted, but knew better than to voice her musings aloud. It was likely something official, since she had signed it as the Headmistress.
After her final class of the day, Ancient Runes, Hazel went up to McGonagall's office, where the gargoyle eyed her up. "Silver lining." It stepped aside when she said those words, and she took the stone staircase up.
McGonagall was waiting for her, a full tea service arrayed on the desk. "Right on time, Miss Potter. Do have a seat."
"Yes ma'am." She sat down and helped herself, and they sat in silence for a few minutes, dressing their tea up and sipping from it. "I'm guessing you didn't invite me for a social call?"
That earned her an arched eyebrow, and she tried not to cringe. McGonagall sighed and set her cup aside. "Business first, I see. Very well. Dumbledore has informed me that your presence is required outside the school, specifically at the Ministry of Magic, during the Hogsmeade weekend in two weeks' time. He did not deign to inform me why."
Hazel knew in an instant what it was for; that was the day of the ambush! But she kept her features tightly schooled. "I surely have no idea either, Headmistress."
That eyebrow arched up again, and Hazel felt very small. "Five points from Slytherin for lying."
"Alright, fine, I have a suspicion as to why. But if Dumbledore didn't inform you, I doubt I can."
"Forgive me for being frank, but since when do you respect any authority that isn't your own?"
Hazel tried not to laugh, and failed, and choked on her tea when she tried to sip from it and cover up her reaction at the same time. McGonagall let her suffer for a few moments, then calmly jabbed her wand forward. "Anapneo."
Her throat cleared in an instant, though she massaged her neck for a few moments longer. "Ugh, thanks, Professor…"
"Now, do you wish to tell me what is going on, or shall we continue our little game?"
"Fine, but you won't believe me. You remember Dumbledore telling the whole world about the Elder Wand last month? That was part of a trap for Voldemort." She ignored McGonagall's undignified shuddering. "A trap that Dumbledore intends to spring in two weeks."
"And why on earth do you need to be there??"
"Because I'm the Mistress of Death, the wand's true master, and when Vol- dammit, fine, when Riddle claims the Elder Wand for himself and attempts to kill Dumbledore with it, I'm going to leap in his path and take the Killing Curse in his place. The Wand won't allow me to be harmed; instead it will destroy the shards of Riddle's soul that are lodged in my forehead and serving as a Horcrux, tying him to life. Then we'll subdue him and I'll blow his head off with my revolver."
"Your- revolver?"
"Yes, Headmistress, my revolver."
McGonagall stared at her for several moments, then pinched the bridge of her nose and heaved the most long-suffering sigh Hazel had ever heard. "I swear to Merlin, that is the most preposterous plan I've ever heard in my life, and believe you me, I've heard some whoppers from you Potters in my day." She got a grip on herself and had another cup of tea. "I don't know what's worse, the plan itself or the fact that Dumbledore agreed to it. I guess that's war for you."
"Professor Grindelwald helped me come up with it, you know."
"Of course he did. And I suppose he's going to violate his parole as well as multiple international treaties to be there for the duel?"
"I surely have no idea, Headmistress. Just as old men shouldn't concern themselves with the affairs of young ladies, the opposite is equally valid."
McGonagall fumed in silence, sipping her tea and muttering to herself. Finally she set her cup down with a clink. "I've changed my mind. The most horrifying part of all this is the fact that you have a Muggle firearm and you are no more or less dangerous than you would be if you did not have it."
Hazel smiled at that. "I'm flattered, Headmistress. So do I have your permission to leave the castle?"
"I doubt I could stop you, so I'll save us all the trouble of you trying to sneak out and give my permission. Be back as soon as you can, and check in with me the moment you return, no matter how late it may be."
"I'll try to remember, Professor." Though it wasn't for another two weeks, and with everything going on, she might very well forget.
McGonagall nodded, then visibly shifted gears as she broached a less fraught topic. "With that out of the way, are you finding your schedule bearable, Miss Potter?"
Hazel let herself relax. "Barely. I shouldn't have taken twelve classes, but I'm in too deep now to back out. They're all so interesting!"
"I would imagine the new teachers are making things more interesting as well."
"Oh yes, especially Professor Murk and Professor H-" But she cut herself off before mentioning Penny's name, sensing a potential trap.
McGonagall noticed, of course. "Were you saying something about Professor Haywood, Miss Potter?"
"Er." Hazel desperately searched her expression for any hint that she had heard about the incident, but saw nothing except polite interest. "I… she…"
"Miss Potter?"
"She rebuked me a while back, Headmistress. I'm afraid I had gotten a bit too familiar with her."
"Oh, is that all?" McGonagall relaxed slightly, and leaned back. "That is a consequence of adopting an informal teaching style, I will admit. I trust you have since respected her boundaries, as well as those of all our staff?"
"Yes, Headmistress. And I apologized."
"Very good. How are you finding your other duties?"
"Well, patrols are boring. I cracked down when I first started, and I think the troublemakers learned not to be out and about when it's one of my nights. And Quidditch is exciting now that my team is properly broken in to my standards."
McGonagall smiled slightly. "I should variate the patrol schedules, to keep students on their toes. And what of your underground dueling club?"
Hazel couldn't keep herself from flinching; even with Umbridge out of the way, it still caught her off guard when other professors mentioned The Study Group. "We're still meeting up, of course. I haven't had the time to properly bring back the Dueling Club, and I probably won't for some time. Everyone else is busy too, and I probably shouldn't mention our schedule."
"Perish the thought." McGonagall poured them both one last cup of tea. "Well, I do believe that's everything, Miss Potter. I apologize for keeping you from your supper."
"No worries, Headmistress, I'll grab a bite from the kitchen on my way back to the dungeons."
She finished her tea, had one final biscuit, then stood and bowed. "Thank you for your concern, Headmistress, and for your permission to leave."
"Of course. Be well, Miss Potter."
Hazel turned and left, heading down to the kitchens. The house-elves were overjoyed to see her, as usual, and happily plied her with ice-cold milk and shepherd's pie and steamed broccoli and whatever else she wanted.
"So, Moxy, how's Regina?"
Moxy wilted slightly. "Miss Hazel is always asking Moxy about big greenie. Big greenie is still asleep, so Moxy is very carefully scrubbing her scales and cleaning up her den! Moxy is making sure there are plenty of apples and hogs, preserved with magic for when she wakes up!"
"Excellent, thank you Moxy."
Moxy shivered from the praise. "Miss Hazel is too kind! Can Moxy bring Miss Hazel anything else?"
"How about some mint ice cream?"
Seconds later a large bowl of the best home-made mint ice cream Hazel had ever tasted was in front of her, and she finished her dinner before digging in with gusto.
Chapter 75: WinnowingSummary:Hazel violates opsec and pays dearly for it.
Chapter TextThe next two weeks went by at a crawl. Hazel was constantly on edge, jittering from anticipation of the fateful Saturday ahead. Her girlfriends noticed, and did their best to keep her distracted, and that worked a little.
On Valentine's Day, she made a deliberate decision to put off the day's homework assignments so she could spend more time messing around. The only one who wasn't completely enthusiastic about this decision was Hermione, because she insisted on revising for OWLs even though they were still months away. "Hazel, you can't spend all your time shagging, you have to focus eventually!"
Hazel pouted, but kept her hands to herself. "You're so boring, Hermione~"
That didn't help her case any, if the renewed glare and the crackling hair were any indication. She quickly backed off. "Alright, alright. Sorry."
"You'd better be." Hermione calmed down and went back to her work. "What's going on with you, anyway? You've been going through girls a lot faster lately."
Hazel was suddenly nervous. Had she been so transparent? "Uh, nothing's going on?"
"Bullshit, Hazel, we've all noticed." Now her glare was more personal. "You've been acting weird for two weeks now, ever since McGonagall had you up for tea. All jittery and nervous and horny. Now tell me what's going on!"
"You won't believe me if I did tell you."
"Tell me anyway."
"Fine! You remember how I had Dumbledore's wand for a while? Well, I earned it off him by launching a surprise attack and nearly killing him!" She ignored Hermione's indignant gasp and kept speaking over her, stage whispering to keep Pince off their backs. "And it was the Elder Wand! From Mr Lovegood's story, from all those Dark wizard tales we've been memorizing for History of Magic! And maybe you didn't know about my Cloak? It's another Hallow! And the Resurrection Stone? Also a Hallow, and an heirloom of Voldemort's wizard family, the Gaunts!"
Hermione clearly didn't know what to believe, so she defaulted to her preferred cynicism. "You can't prove any of this, Hazel!"
"I can too!" She used her new powers to conjure the Resurrection Stone, and it appeared on her hand. "Now, tell me the name of someone dead whom you'd really like to speak with."
"Uh… Jeanne Girard, my grandmother from my mum's side, but what does this-"
Hazel was already turning the stone thrice in her hand. And there appeared an elderly woman in a militia uniform, not quite ghost but not quite alive. "What does the Mistress of Death want with me?"
"Not me, miss, your granddaughter."
Jeanne turned to an utterly gobsmacked Hermione. "Ah. This is nice."
"G-Grandma?!"
"Keep your voice down, dear." Jeanne seemed amused as Pince appeared out of nowhere to hiss at them. "So, was there something you wanted to ask me?"
"Um…" Clearly there were a lot of things Hermione wanted to ask, but just as clearly, she hadn't actually expected Hazel to pull it off. "H-How did you die?"
"Cancer, dear, as you very well know. You also very well know that they found symptoms of lead poisoning after the autopsy."
Hazel tuned out the rest of the conversation. It was mostly Hermione wanting to know about Jeanne's experiences during World War 2, which she'd never gotten a chance to ask about as Jeanne had died when Hermione was five. Or so Hazel gathered.
She glanced at the clock and saw it was nearly dinner time. "Oi, Granger, let's go eat."
"Oh, alright." She leaned in and hugged her grandma. "Is it alright if Hazel brings you back later, gran-mère?"
"Of course, but don't make a habit of it. Even the Mistress of Death is bound by Death's laws." Jeanne hugged her in return, gave Hazel a nod, and Hazel nodded back before letting her go.
Hermione was silent as she packed her things, and followed Hazel out of the library. Three hallways down, she spoke up. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Logic and rationality have no place in a world where people can teleport and dragons exist."
"Bullshit. Magic is still governed by laws, just not the kind of laws you're used to." Hazel gave her a quick one-armed hug. "So, where was I?"
"I think I can guess the rest. You're the Mistress of Death now, so you're going to join the Order in attacking V-Voldemort's forces this weekend?"
"Eh, it won't be quite that cut and dry, but that's the gist of it."
"Take us with you!"
"Us?"
"Yes! You know, The Study Group! This is what we've been preparing for all year!" Hermione had that shining eagerness in her eyes now, that Hazel never could quite say no to.
Fortunately, it wasn't on her to say no. "I'm not the one who can decide that, Hermione. You need to speak to the Headmistress and get permission for everyone to come."
That stymied her for all of five seconds, then she brightened up again. "Alright, I'll get her permission for me to go, then we'll sneak everyone else out with us! We can ride brooms or thestrals or something!"
"Hermione, you realize people could die this weekend, right? Do you really wanna risk all your friends and lovers?"
"It's not my risk to take, Hazel, it's all of ours. Anyway, I don't need McGonagall's permission, because I'm of age!"
"You don't need my permission for what, Miss Granger?"
Hazel and Hermione both nearly leapt out of their skins, then turned to see McGonagall standing behind them, fighting to keep a stern expression on her face. "I see today's youth are as self-absorbed as ever."
"How much of that did you overhear, Headmistress?"
"Enough to realize Miss Potter is attempting to keep all the glory for herself."
Hazel knew she was teasing, but the remark still stung. "Hardly, ma'am, I'm trying to keep all my friends from dying!"
"And as Miss Granger so eloquently put it, the risk is not yours alone. That being said, I will not try and stop you or your militia from fighting, however I will impose restrictions: no one under fourth year may accompany you, and no one who is not fully informed and consenting to the risks."
This was not what Hazel had been counting on. She was going to have to reveal more of the plan, it was the only way to talk them down. "Listen, both of you! This is supposed to be a surprise attack! Just me, Dumbledore, Grindelwald, maybe a few of the Order's best fighters! But a full quarter of Hogwarts' students won't be all that sneaky!"
"Then we won't bring everyone, just those who are good enough." Hermione was back to being infuriatingly reasonable, now that she sensed victory.
"And who gets to decide that? Because if it's up to me, none of you are good enough!" She rounded on McGonagall. "And aren't you being a bit too permissive? This isn't a field trip, this is life and death!"
That earned her a severe glare. "I am well aware of the stakes, Miss Potter. I am also aware that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is weakened and vulnerable, and his forces are in disarray. And I trust that the students you've been training all year will have the good sense to recognize when to attack and when to fall back." She paused, and arched a devastating eyebrow. "You havetrained them in tactics, correct?"
She tried not to flinch back from that eyebrow. "As much as I could, considering I'm not a trained Auror."
"And neither are your foes. My conditions still stand." McGonagall gave them both a nod and swept on by, leaving Hazel and Hermione behind.
Hermione was visibly smug. "Well, that sorts that. I'll start talking to-"
"No." Hazel got her master coin out and fiddled with the numbers. "We do this tonight, right after dinner."
"What? But I've got so much home-"
"I've got homework too, Granger! But this is war! Do you think the Death Eaters are gonna wait for you to finish your essay before trying to kill you?!"
Dinner was tense. Everyone was looking her way, even people who weren't in The Study Group. She guessed it wasn't exactly a secret anymore, and that students had been gossiping about it now that Umbridge was out of power. She was still salty about being overruled, so she ate with both hands above the table.
After dinner, Hazel hurried to be the first one to the Room of Requirement, but she was annoyed to find Fred and George waiting for her in the corridor. "Everything alright, Hazel?"
"No, lads, it's not alright." She paced before the entrance. No training tonight, I need a place to talk to everyone, to lay down the law…
The Room gave her a chamber not unlike Grindelwald's classroom, with a central lectern surrounded by circular benches and desks, and lit by flickering torches in the four colors of Hogwarts. Fred and George were impressed. "Our Dear Leader has something to say tonight!"
Hazel stood at the lectern, and the twins took seats. Shortly, the rest of The Study Group filed into the Room. Some seemed curious, a few were visibly put out by the short notice of tonight's meeting. She was surprised to see Davies and Stimpson in the crowd too, weren't they and the other seventh-years backing out?
Once everyone was seated, Hazel took a deep breath. She was about to violate every rule of operational security, but fuck it. She'd been bullied into this anyway. "No training tonight, you lot, just me with something to fucking say and you can blame Granger for the short notice." A wave of mutinous muttering swept the crowd, but she ignored it. "You've all been wondering what my plans are for this weekend's Hogsmeade trip, and I've tried to be cagey about it. Because the truth is? I'm not going out with anyone!"
The mutinous muttering increased in pitch and volume, and still she ignored it. "Because I'll be with Albus Dumbledore that day, putting an end to this fucking war! Voldemort is weak, and we're gonna strike while the iron is hot! But since your Headmistress is a Gryffindor to her bones she said I had to invite most of you lot to come along. But not all of you!"
The muttering broke out into chatter, and she had to put her wand to her throat in a silent Sonorus to override them. "QUIET! I'm not bringing everyone along; this is an ambush! A sneak attack! Voldemort won't be alone, he'll have his Death Eaters and all his best fighters, because he thinks he's ambushing Dumbledore!"
No one was interrupting her, not even Hermione. "But like I said, not all of you. Fourth-years and up only! And let me make this clear: this isn't a field trip or a training exercise, this is the real fucking deal! Voldemort himself, and Bellatrix Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov, all those bastards!"
Draco put his hand up. "My Father, too?"
Ron joined in. "And Peter Pettigrew?"
Hazel rolled her eyes. "Obviously I don't know everyone who's gonna be there, but the odds are good, yes. Now let me finish." She glared at them until they simmered down, then resumed pacing. "So like I said! There's a better-than-average chance you could die if you come with us, so think long and hard if you're willing to throw your life away for this. If you're too young, file out now."
There was a great deal of mutinous muttering as Dennis Creevey and Aria Zabini led the other underclassmen out of the Room. It was much less crowded without them. "As for the rest of you, you've got half an hour to make up your minds. After that, we're gonna run drills every night until Saturday to make sure we're all ready to go. I don't care about homework or Quidditch or OWLs or NEWTs or any of that school shit, understand? I'll worry about that stuff if I make it back alive, and so will you!"
Fred and George, who didn't give a shit about school anyway, were the first to get up and stand behind her. Ginny was hot on their heels, and after a moment Draco moved to join them too. One by one the others stood up as well, even the other seventh-years, until only Pansy and Ron were left sitting.
Pansy was idly checking her nails. "I'm not good enough, and don't you dare pretend otherwise."
"Fair enough, this is strictly for volunteers." Hazel looked to Ron, who was visibly ill. "You alright, Ronald?"
"No, I…" He swallowed heavily and ran a hand through his messy hair. "I had a horrible dream just last night, where we all went to attack someone, and… and…" He glanced at Lavender, who was looking back at him sympathetically. "And I died, okay? Someone else was being attacked, and I threw myself in front of the curse, and I died."
Ginny broke ranks to go stand by her brother. "Who was it, Ron?"
"I couldn't tell, the dream didn't have that much detail… all I saw was dark hair…"
Dark hair, eh. Hazel had dark hair. Padma and Parvati had dark hair. Then again, Bella Lestrange and most of the Death Eaters had dark hair too, so maybe he had seen the attacker. "Look Ron, if you don't wanna come, that's all there is to it. No one's gonna think less of you, or call you a coward. Not to your face anyway."
"O-Okay." His relief was palpable, and Hazel wondered where the line between I'm scared to die but fuck it, I'm going anyway, and I KNOW I'm gonna fucking die and holy shit I'm not READY, was.
That being said, Hazel gave it even chances that the other Gryffindors would talk shit about Ron behind his back, about how he gave up on the best chance to fight an actual bad guy any of them would ever get, all because of a bad dream. Never mind that Ron's dreams had a habit of coming true.
Back on track, she had to pare the volunteers down; there were too damn many of them. "I appreciate everyone's enthusiasm, but there's still too many of you. We can not bring too many people on this ambush, or it'll go wrong. So let's run drills so I can see who's good enough."
There was a sudden thrill of purpose in the group now. They knew this wasn't just a drill for Hazel to be sadistic; this was for all the marbles. She felt a stab of pride as the Room reconfigured itself to the usual format. Ron and Pansy joined in too, just out of solidarity.
And Hazel pushed them to their limits. Warmups, drills, duels, more drills, more duels. One by one the group shrank, until she was left with twelve people: Ginny, Hermione, Luna, Cho, Susan, Hannah and Pansy (to their obvious surprise), and Fred, George, Ron, Draco and Neville. All of them puffing and blowing, some looking surprised they managed to keep up.
Hazel cocked an eyebrow at Pansy and Ron. "Are you two sure you don't wanna come along?"
Pansy sniffed disdainfully, trying to hide how out of breath she was. "I guess I'll come, if only to keep an eye on Draco~"
Ron hesitated, then gave in. "Fine, if you'll have me along. Just… keep an eye on me, okay?"
"What about the rest of us?" That was Dean, still puffing and blowing with the rest of the dropouts.
Hazel hesitated. There were already a lot of people in the know about the ambush, and she didn't trust them to keep their mouths shut for two days. Then she remembered Hermione's jinxed paper and relaxed, reassuring herself that anyone who blabbed would be afflicted by it.
Before she could say anything, Hermione spoke up. "You lot are the lucky ones, understand? We're not going off to play heroes, we might die this weekend. So go on a date, get drunk, do whatever. And for heaven's sake don't go blabbing or you'll have Hazel and I to answer to!"
That seemed to set them straight, and everyone began filing out of the room. A few minutes later, Hazel stretched, exchanged a few looks with her girls, then eyed the guys. "You lads clear out too, hm? We need some more time alone~"
They rolled their eyes, but went for the door. Hazel had just started unbuttoning her blouse when Neville yelped. "Ah! Uh, Hazel!"
"Dammit." Everyone hastily restored their appearances as Hazel hurried to see what the guys were freaking out about. "What the hell do you g- ah!"
Lounging about in the corridor outside, perfectly silent, were the new teachers. Penny, Ismelda, Talbott, Barnaby, and Charlie. Tonks and an unfamiliar woman were with them, too. Hazel had an idea who the woman was. "You're Maya Forthaven, aren't you?"
Chapter 76: Last Minute SchemingSummary:Hazel meets another legendary Hogwarts figure.
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextThe strange woman cocked an eyebrow, then chuckled. "I see my reputation precedes me, as usual. Yes, I'm Maya." Maya was tall, taller than Hazel, with light brown skin and large, greenish-hazel eyes. She wore official-looking clothes and seemed to have a permanent smirk on her dark red lips, which Hazel tried not to stare at.
"And you're here because…?"
Talbott shook his head. "Why do you think we're here? You're supposed to be smart, Potter, act like it."
The other students, deciding this was her battle, were taking off down the hall without her. Traitors. Hazel tried to suss it out. "All but two of you answer to the Headmistress, and one of you answers to Dumbledore. So one of those two must have asked you to keep an eye on us."
Tonks laughed. "Madam Bones, actually. You thought a pair of old lovers and some ex-Aurors could help you stand against Voldemort? Fuck that, Bones caught wind and grabbed Dumbledore by his ear until he spilled the whole plan!"
"Then she ordered Tonks and Maya to drop what they were doing and come out here, and made him tell us to join them." That was Ismelda, who looked thrilled at the chance to do something lethal.
"You guys realize it's not happening until Saturday, right?"
Penny shrugged. "We can still be excited. Plus, Rakepick is supposed to be there, and we've all got a bone to pick with her."
Talbott scowled. "Yes, this is for Rowan."
Barnaby cheered. "For Rowan!"
Hazel was confused. "Hang on, you lot are only going because of Rakepick?"
"Of course! Bad enough she escaped Azkaban after what she did, we're gonna ki- OOF!"
Charlie had jabbed the big man with his elbow. "Put a sock in it, Barns, you dunno what you're on about."
Maya stood straight and regarded her friends sternly. "We're not killing anyone, got it? The only person dying on Saturday is Voldemort, and that's on this lot, not us. Rakepick comes alive."
"Ten sickles says she's just bought and paid for, not really loyal to Voldemort. Does that sound right?"
They all shrugged, and Maya looked thoughtful. "Sounds right to me. She was probably just using the Death Eaters to recover from her imprisonment."
"So what are you gonna do with her?"
The group shared uneasy glances. "We're… a bit divided on that, actually."
Talbott looked a bit put out. "Ismelda, Tonks, and myself think she should go back to Azkaban."
Penny was only slightly cheerier. "While Barnaby, Charlie and I all think Azkaban is a horrible place and she's had enough punishment."
"And what about you, Maya?"
Maya huffed an irritated sigh. "I'm torn, honestly. I met her in Azkaban once and she was hardly the dreadful figure I remembered, but at the same time she did kill my best friend in cold blood."
"Well, she's a mercenary at heart, right? Offer her a pardon and enough gold and she'll switch sides, betray Voldemort and his goons."
"No one likes a traitor, though!"
"Then stand back and let me Crucio her a little, that'll set her straight."
That made them really uneasy, except for Ismelda. She had a proud smirk. "Technically we're your teachers and we shouldn't encourage that sort of behavior, but fuck it. You're already killing a man, may as well go all out~"
"Ismelda! Don't encourage her!" Penny glared at her, then at Hazel. "Miss Potter, you will allow us to handle Patricia Rakepick, and that's all there is to say. You worry about your own villain!"
"Jeez, Penny, no need to go full McGonagall on the poor girl!" Barnaby chortled and clapped her on the shoulder, hard enough to make her stagger. "You see what we meant, Maya? She's just like you, only evil! And all those girls slinking off when we first got here? Those were her- oof!"
"Dammit, Barns…" Charlie and his elbow to the rescue again.
"Should I be worried or scared about how much you all know about my private life?"
"Relax, Potter, we're not spying on you. Your love life is about as subtle as a rabid troll~"
"Gee, thanks, Professor Murk."
"Alright, leave the kid alone." Thanks to her metamorph powers, Tonks was doing an excellent impression of Snape, and everyone flinched. "Potter, get to bed. The rest of you go back to whatever you were doing. Maya, come with me."
Still feeling very confused, Hazel bowed and did as she was told, retreating from the meeting and heading downstairs to the Slytherin common room. Along the way she tried to rationalize the evening's events to herself. She didn't believe for a second that Dumbledore had been bullied by Madam Bones into ordering all these people to be sent along, so he must have been planning to send them anyway.
Then again, knowing the professors even a little, they likely would have gone no matter what anyone said, thirsty as they were for a chance at Rakepick.
Then she wondered if maybe Dumbledore meant for news of the ambush to get out. On the surface it sounded preposterous; what good would it do to advertise the date and time of an ambush? Then she thought it through, and realized it was Voldemort doing the ambushing. She further realized that staging the ambush in the Ministry would ensure plentiful witnesses, and the Atrium would provide ample cover for her friends to duck and hide, and for herself to wait for the opportune moment. And before the fighting started, Tonks and Maya could pretend to be leading a field trip or intern interview or something, and the teachers could claim to be visiting old friends.
It made perfect sense to spread the word as far as possible, she realized. Voldemort knew it was a trap, and his greed and lust for immortality were overriding what little sense he had left. But he wasn't truly stupid, he would bring as many of his own forces to the battle as he could, knowing Dumbledore was also throwing everything he had into it.
So then, why allow students to join? Did he not care? Or maybe he had that much faith in her ability to train and prepare the members of The Study Group?
She decided to give up on that train of thought. Dumbledore's stratagems were so far outside her comprehension that it wasn't even funny, but clearly he had accounted for the presence of her friends somehow. How? Somehow. Fucking old men anyway.
She was still in a funk when she arrived in the Slytherin common room. Her friends noticed, and exchanged uneasy glances. Pansy was the first to speak. "What took you so long, Hazel? We've been waiting here for hours!"
"You have not." Hazel threw herself into an empty chair and brooded. "Dumbledore's playing games, and I'm scared someone might die for them."
Pansy went paler than usual. "What do you mean, games?"
"That woman who was standing with our teachers? That was Maya Forthaven!"
Everyone recognized the name immediately, and Hazel cursed herself again for not paying attention before. Blaise let out a low whistle. "Damn, Forthaven herself. Last I heard she was too deep in some super-secret Ministry law program to ever come up for air."
Daphne leaned forward. "But what's she got to do with why our teachers were lurking outside the Room of Requirement?"
"Dumbledore got on the bad side of Madam Bones, and she told Tonks and Maya to come out here, and then she told him to tell the teachers to meet them, and they're gonna be there at the ambush too, keeping an eye on us."
Pansy's eyes went wide. "Huh? That's not possible, how did they know? We only decided tonight!"
"Yeah, that's what I don't get either. Dumbledore knows me too well, it makes sense he'd know the rest of you also."
"There you are then, he's looking after us. In his own weirdly prescient way." Pansy seemed comforted, and insisted on burrowing into Hazel's side and not letting go.
Hazel hugged her, but still felt sick. Two days. Two days until this was ending, one way or another. She nudged Pansy off and tried to compartmentalize the bad mood away; she really did have homework to do, and for all her talk about not giving a fuck, she really didn't want to fall behind too far.
Thursday and Friday raced by in a haze, broken up only by the occasional shag, or Quidditch practice, or drilling her team into the fucking bricks. None of them thought of giving up, not even Pansy or Ron; Pansy's hesitation had been burned away by the realization that yes, actually she could keep up with Hazel's standards. And Ron was still worried, sure, but he had apparently made peace with the possibility of dying if it meant keeping one of his friends alive.
He wasn't so dumb as to announce this far and wide, of course. In fact the only one he confided in was Hazel, Friday evening after their last round of drills. "I'm not scared anymore. Does that sound weird? I've made peace with possibly dying."
She regarded him with open eyes, and saw a gangly, awkward boy with an acne breakout and too much hair, who didn't seem to have learned what a hair tie was yet. He had circles under his eyes, but he was at peace in a way she admired. "I'm proud of you, Ron. And between you and me, I've been having that same kind of crisis myself, ever since I learned about those mad Horcrux things."
Ron frowned. "What do they have to do with you?"
Hazel hesitated, wondering if telling Ron was a good idea. But she shook her head; the Horcruxes were common knowledge now, no sense keeping more secrets. "You have to keep this to yourself, Ron, promise? Promise?"
"Y-Yeah, I promise."
"Alright." She took a deep breath, and looked him dead in the eye. "The Horcruxes have everything to do with me, because I am one."
He gaped at her, then his gaze trailed up to the scars on her forehead. "Fuck, Hazel. I really wish that didn't make sense, but it does. Those scars are from you absorbing pieces of him, aren't they?"
"Yeah. Every time a Horcrux of his is destroyed with me in the vicinity, the bit of soul inside latches onto me, because when I was a baby and the Killing Curse went wrong, it rebounded back on Voldemort. It didn't kill him, but it annihilated his body, and a piece of his soul was blown off. And that piece latched onto me, since I was the only living thing left in the room. And because I'm a Gaunt."
He didn't seem too fazed by that last revelation. He was probably used to everyone being related to everyone else. "Alright, so what's the plan for tomorrow? The real plan, I mean."
Hazel made sure they were alone, and put up privacy charms just to be sure. "The real plan is for Dumbledore and Voldemort to get into it at the Ministry, and Dumbledore will be using my wand. They'll duel, Voldemort will win and claim the wand, turn it on Dumbledore. Dumbledore goads him into using the Killing Curse. I step in the way, since I'll be lurking under the Cloak of Invisibility. The Curse won't kill me because my wand will refuse to hurt me, and it'll target the soul shards in my forehead instead. Then he'll be mortal and I can blow his head off with my revolver."
Ron's mouth was open so wide he could catch flies. "Your…"
"Revolver, yes. That's why I'd been sneaking down to the basement at Sirius' house all summer with Mad-Eye."
"Merlin's most baggy Y-fronts, Hazel. That's fucking nuts!"
"You're damn right it's fucking nuts!" She laughed at the look on his face. "And before you ask, yes, I know that wand won't betray me!"
"I wasn't gonna ask that, but sure, since you brought it up." He paused, and made another connection. "Oh, that's that Elder Wand thing Dumbledore talked about in the paper."
"Bingo! Remember over the holidays when everyone thought I attacked him from behind? That actually happened, and it's when I won the Wand. He nearly died, but he knew I'd attack him sooner or later."
"Fucking hell, Hazel…" His face had gone through so many cycles of disbelief in the past few minutes, she was surprised his facial muscles still worked. "You're mental, you are legitimately mental. Attacking Dumbledore… Dumbledore…"
"Yeah yeah, whatever. Don't make me regret telling you any of this, understand?"
"No, I won't tell anyone, promise. But… but what's ourpurpose for being there?"
Hazel shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe he knew you lot would go out of your way to show up anyhow. Or maybe you're just extra pawns on the chessboard. Maybe this, maybe that, maybe the other."
He stared at her in silence, then shook his head. "Hopefully this all works out, or else your bad decisions will get a lot of people killed."
"They aren't just my bad decisions. And you can still change your mind about going."
He was visibly conflicted for another long moment, then he shook his head again. "No, I made up my mind, I won't back out now. Why did you tell me all this, anyway?"
"So that you don't get it in your head to do something stupid to save Dumbledore. Try and save anyone else, but not him."
He wasn't reassured, but he accepted it. "O-Okay."
"Alright then. Get some rest, tomorrow the world goes to hell." She clapped him on the shoulder and watched him leave; after a moment she left too, taking the secret passages to the Slytherin common room.
Notes:In case it wasn't clear, Maya Forthaven is supposed to be "Jacob's sibling" from Hogwarts Mystery.