ACT2CH23 - Power (Patreon)

For most witches and wizards, Sunday was a day of spending time with family. If you were a teenager and at Hogwarts, it was the day you lounged around in the Common room, playing chess or gobstones, or catching up on homework. If you were Hermione Granger, you were reading ahead, probably trying to mug things up for the next month in advance.

And if you were Harry Potter, you’d be lying on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, spreadeagled and somewhat short of breath after a particularly vicious training regimen.

Oh, and talking to your godfather through a certain enchanted mirror.

Harry idly noticed Hecate biting into the giant basilisk carcass, the three heads impaling their fangs through the basilisk skin, which was impressive in a primal sort of way given how basilisk skin were supposed to be nigh impenetrable. It was doubly impressive since Hecate was, no matter how you looked at it, a swindling babe as far as magical snakes were concerned.

Said swindling babe was happily munching through the basilisk carcass, which was interesting since Newt Scamander’s book said nothing about runespoors being scavengers. It wouldn’t matter much, he supposed, because unlike everything else, the basilisk meat wouldn’t exactly sell for much, preservation charms or not.

“Well, we all knew that the bitch was trouble,” said Sirius, scratching his beard from the other side of the mirror. “But it isn’t your problem. You didn’t change the OWL syllabus, Fudge did. Neither did you hire that hag to teach at Hogwarts. If Dumbledore himself is staying his hand, I hardly think there’s anything that you need to bother—”

“I am bothered by this, Sirius,” Harry asserted.

“Why? You don’t even attend her classes.”

“And that’s the problem,” Harry said. “It’s like she’s making everyone else suffer. And no matter what you say, everyone knows that she’s here because of my trial. She’s here because Fudge’s a paranoid bastard. All of this, making her the Defense Professor, changing the OWL syllabi, and now all this… I don’t have to take her classes and I don’t, but everyone else does. Susan told me that her friends are afraid of flunking their OWLs, and  even if they don’t, they’d turn out to be useless at battle because Umbridge won’t teach them anything. We both know that Voldemort will make a public appearance sooner or later, and start another war. These students… they’d be sitting ducks because no one taught them anything.”

“I’ll say it again, Harry. You’re not the Minister of Magic. Fudge is. If they cannot see the truth now, it’s on them.”

A frown marred his face. “And that’s the goddamn problem.”

His godfather curled a brow.

“It’s… it’s just nothing has changed. Remember what you told me about the last war? The government was a complete and utter failure back then, and it’s the same if not worse now. Voldemort is brilliant, powerful and skilled enough to fight Albus fucking Dumbledore and stay undefeated. He’s persuasive enough to make the Lords and Ladies of Ancient Houses bow before him and let him brand them like cattle. Look at the sheer number of people he killed in the last war and… and…” His voice grew more impassioned. “Nothing has changed. The same people are in power. A single media that is biassed in the government’s favour. The same bias towards muggleborn, halfblood and creature-borns. The same people in power.”

“We’re doing what we can, Harry, you’ve to realise that not much can be done until he shows up in public —”

Harry sneered. “Sirius, when Voldemort shows himself in public, it is already over. Honestly, I think if I were Voldemort, I’d just let things stew as they are. Let the Ministry cripple the future generations. Let the Wizengamot cripple the DMLE and Auror squads. Let people like Runcorn and Umbridge indoctrinate and pollute the students with their bigoted views. And then He shows up, he doesn’t even need to try. These people would just hand him this country on a silver platter. He doesn’t even need to fight a war because he’d already have won it.”

He expected Sirius to agree with him, and if not, then give him a different perspective of the situation. He  was a damned war veteran. He knew better.

Instead the man laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Harry growled.

“You are,” said Sirius, eliciting another growl from him. “It’s so obvious that you are taking it personally. I understand your fears about Him, and  we’re doing our best. Joshua and I have some plans running, thanks to your brand new Secretary.”

Harry suppressed the urge to palm his face. Having Percy Weasley as his secretary wasn’t something he had ever seen coming.

“Did you really have to make it that way, Sirius? You could have easily made him manage yours.”

“Ah-ah-ah!” his godfather wiggled a finger. “You aren’t pushing this on me, Harry. Plus, I’ve already got a secretary.”

“Who is it, Professor Lupin?”

Something dark flickered across his godfather’s face, and then it was gone just as quickly “No,” he said. “He’s… working with the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore still thinks he has a chance with convincing the werewolves.”

“Sirius,” Harry lowered his voice. “What aren’t you telling me?”

His godfather sighed. “I’m afraid it’s doomed to fail.  Dumbledore is being obstinate. He believes he can convince everyone, even werewolves. Werewolves do not like discussion, Harry. They are beings of strength and follow the law of the jungle. No matter how much they might look human, the truth is, the curse transforms them into something else over time.”

“That’s just bullshit—”

“No,” Sirius growled. “It isn’t. A werewolf isn’t just a wolf animagus, Harry, or just a curse that transforms you into a beast once every full moon. A werewolf is a predator, and even as a human, its subconscious impulses are those of a beast. They respect strength, they respect danger and they respect hierarchy, one made through sheer power. Remus may have had a Hogwarts education, but the truth is, he’s weak. Always has been. He has always shunned the wolf part of him, and the wolf has shunned him back. It’s why he’s so weak, so undecided, so willing to let others take charge, so… so willing to run away, because that is what the weak do.”

Harry frowned. “So you’re saying…”

“I’m afraid Remus will just end up needlessly dying in this foolish endeavour. You’re right about one thing, Harry. Nothing has changed because the same people are in power. But here’s where you’re wrong. The same people are in power because the victors did not understand one simple thing. For someone that has held the title of the most powerful wizard in Britain for ages, Albus Dumbledore just doesn’t seem to understand one tiny fact.”

“Which is?”

“Power does not come from words. It comes from having a wand pointed between your eyes. More wands, the better.”

Harry frowned. Susan’s words came to mind. Seeing the students fumble around without anyone to teach him how to fight made him feel terrible inside. Especially with Susan’s earnest request. She might not have phrased it outright, but he knew what she wanted. She wanted him to teach her. Teach them.

“I know you think I despise him for what he did, Harry,” said Sirius softly. “And it’s true. But Remus was… is also my friend, and I do not want to see him killed. But if he doesn’t see reason, there’s only so much I can do.”

Harry stayed silent.

“But enough about me,” said Sirius with a sniff. “It’s obvious you want to go help your classmates, so go help them. What’s stopping you?”

Harry clenched his fists. Sirius was right. There was nothing stopping him from helping them. And therein lay the problem.

“I… can’t.”

Sirius crooked an eyebrow. “Can’t?”

“...Can’t, or rather, I shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re right. It isn’t my job to solve their problems.”

“Harry,” said Sirius softly. “Every single thing you’ve done over the past four years has been because you poked your nose into other people's problems.”

Harry scowled. “That was different.”

“Oh, so you can poke into others’ problems and all’s hunky-dory, but if others want you to solve your problems, it’s a problem? You have complicated rules, Harry.”

He ignored it with the disdain it deserved.

“Look,” said his godfather. “I get it. You don’t want to help them, and you’ve got reasons, and I understand. Hell, I just told you it’s not your problem in the first place. But I don’t see why you’re worrying so much about it? Just say no.”

I….” Harry trailed off, conflicted. “It’s just, I don’t know how to talk about it to Susan. I mean, telling her no to the face…”

“Wow, kiddo, you really move fast. First a veela, then Daphne and now Susan?” He swept an imaginary tear of his eyes. “Your old man would’ve been really proud  that you chose to walk in your godfather’s steps.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m not a serial womaniser, Sirius. And there’s nothing between me and her. It’s worse enough that Ron and the others think there’s something going on between us, when there isn’t. I mean, Susan is just a new friend, that’s all. Can’t I have new friends without… you know, complicating matters?”

“Look pup,” said Sirius, “I don’t want to make your decisions for you, but it’s completely natural to make new friends. And I get it. Things have changed a lot since this summer. You got to live with your awesome godfather, took the initiative of bedding a veela when this poor sod couldn’t take you to the veela massage cabins in the Bahamas, got betrothed to another sweet bird…”

“Not helping,” Harry murmured.

“Point is you’ve grown and made new connections. People you met over the summer, people who came to your birthday party and everything that followed, it’s obvious you are going to move into new friend circles. And that means that sometimes you just fall apart with old ones.”

“But I don’t—”

Sirius raised both hands in surrender. “Not saying that you have to, just that it’s natural if it happens. That shouldn’t stop you from trying to make new ones.”

“I… guess.” Harry admitted. “It’s just that Ron thinks I’m being a bit of a… dick. He thinks I’m leading Susan around.”

Sirius arched an eyebrow. “Are you?”

“No!” Harry vehemently disagreed. “I mean, she’s not exactly a fangirl like Ginny Weasley or Colin or worse, Romilda Vane, and she’s really good at Defence and has a good head on her shoulders. And I like her. As a friend. And I don’t want to bugger this up. I mean, the Bones are our allies, aren’t they?”

“That’s a mighty problem you’ve got there, Harry,” said Sirius wryly. “And you’d better sort things out in your head about this real fast, ‘cause you’re gonna see Susan around a lot.”

This time it was Harry’s turn to be surprised.

“I’m dating Amelia,” said Sirius.

He blinked.

“You’re dating the Director of Law Enforcement.”

“That’s what I said.”

Harry barked out a laugh. “What does she see in a dog like you?”

“I see what you did there.

“Serio— I mean, how did that even happen?”

“I guess you’ve got to be a girl to notice this, but I’m roguishly handsome,” said Sirius who had no shame in beating his own drum. “Originally we thought about taking things slow, but given the situation, waiting will give us nothing. War has a way of doing that, you know. Most young married couples wanted to get started early, afraid they’d not survive in the war. And let me tell you it made things really embarrassing for visitors. Why there was that time when I dropped in and found Lily and James on the dining table rutting. Never knew Lily-flower was such a screamer.”

Harry wanted to gag. “Too much information, Sirius.”

“Oh, grow up,” said his godfather with a laugh. “You’re now a Lord, Harry. And that means sitting on the adult table, doing adult things. Both mine and Amelia’s lives froze back in 1981, when I got imprisoned and her fiance was killed by Death Eaters, and somehow, we managed to kindle that flame back in each other. It might not look like it, but I’ve got needs, Harry. And Amelia’s got them too. Always knew there was a wildcat behind that bitchy attitude.”

Harry rolled his eyes at the dreamy smile plastered on the man’s face. “I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know.” He repeated that like a mantra over and over again. “I don’t want to know if Susan is going to have another little cousin in nine months.”

Sirius gave him a perverse smile. “From what I’ve heard, you’re nowhere behind, kiddo. Bedding a veela was one thing, but student and naughty teacher at Hogwarts? My my, Harry, your father would be so proud.”

To Sirius’s consternation, instead of blushing and denying it like most teenagers of his age tended to do when faced with romantic issues, Harry just clammed up tighter than a Gringotts vault.

“We’re not talking about my love life.”

“Prude.” said Sirius grumpily. “What that veela sees in you I’ll never know. James would’ve strutted around like a peacock in your place. Not that he didn’t. Did I mention Lily was a scream—”

“Sirius!”

“Fine! Fine! Spoil my fun, why don’t you?” His godfather grumbled. “How’s your training coming along?”

And just like that, Harry deflated like a punctured balloon. “Fine, I guess.”

“Which means not fine. What happened? Snape is still giving you trouble?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “If Snape didn’t give me trouble, I’d start checking for imperius curses. No, he’s actually… being very thorough. He says that I’ve got a lot more power than the average guy, but my performance is inconsistent. He keeps going on about being more efficient with my magic and how skill matters more than strength. Every single time I’ve duelled him, he barely uses any advanced magic, and tells me to use my head instead of firing powerful spells like an overpowered buffoon.”

“And you dislike that?”

Harry shook his head. “Not at all. He told me we’d move to stronger spells once I’ve gained consistency, and that’s fine. It’s just…

“Just what?”

“It’s just that I feel like I’m going nowhere.”

“You’re overthinking things, godson,” said Sirius Black, “It took me over two years of gruelling training to get the pass from old Mad-Eye. Compared to that, you’ve had what… two months now?”

“That’s not the point, Sirius.”

“Please then, arrive at the point.”

“You don’t need to be a kickass hitwizard to understand the difference between your and my situation. I’ve worked hard, Sirius. I’ve done everything you asked me, and I’m doing everything that Snape asks, but it feels like I’m getting nowhere yet. All these years I thought I was good at DADA, but now…”

Sirius frowned. “Harry, just why do you think you’re bad at this?”

Harry scowled. “Snape has me training with Auror equipment. You know, the one that looks like the bullseye thingy—”

“And what of it?”

“He told me that even the most pathetic Death Eaters out there hit at least five reds in a throw of ten. I’ve been practising every single day, Sirius, for hours on end. But the best I’ve been able to get is three reds in a single lap.”

An inscrutable expression flickered across his godfather’s voice. “Only… three, huh?”

Harry growled. “And that’s my problem.”

“Hmmm, I have to admit, it is pretty low,” said Sirius, scratching his beard again. “Tell me they are operating at full speed at the very least.”

“Obviously,” Harry mumbled. He had the sneaking suspicion that his godfather was hiding something. “As if Snape would expect anything less.”

Sirius made a muffled choking sound.

“And I try. Believe me, I try. Snape makes me practise three days every week, but I do the same every single night after dinner until I’m exhausted, but no matter what I do, I just can’t get it past three. I cast all the spells perfectly, and he still wouldn’t stop calling me pathetic. Seriously, it’s like every time I take a step forward, I go three steps back. I don’t know why I’m even trying—” He paused at the sudden strangling sound Sirius made, and narrowed his eyes. “What aren’t you telling me, Padfoot?”

His godfather looked back silently for four seconds, and then cracked up. He dropped the mirror, but Harry could perfectly hear him fall down against the couch, wheezing with laughter.

“What’s so FUNNY?”

“Oh! Oh Merlin! Wait, wait I can do this, Snape —”

And then he fell down again, giggling hysterically.

Harry scowled. “You’re just being mean!”

Sirius snorted some more, before he finally gained his breath. “Harry, the bullseye you’re talking about? They have green, blue and pink with red in the centre, right?”

“Yeah, and what of it?”

His godfather chuckled. “Harry, you’re supposed to hit the Pink layer. Hitting the red means you’ve outgrown the exercise. Hit-wizards are trained to hit pink five times a row, not red.”

“But—” Harry began, flabbergasted. “Snape said —”

Sirius snorted. “Snape’s taking the mickey out of you. He must have deactivated the auto-stop function, so it keeps going.”

“But that means —”

“Means Harry, you’re already scoring on the level of most hit-wizards out there and more,” said Sirius. “Snivellus has been fucking with  you the whole time and you didn’t even realise it.”

“...”