Chapter 11

A Game of Cat and Dragons

"Ouch."

"Quiet."

"You stepped on my toes," Theo complained.

"Shhh… Or they'll catch us," Harry whispered back.

They walked on in silence.

It was already past curfew, and the dungeon's hallways were plunged into darkness, but for the light of a few torches here and there.

"You're sure Sirius wasn't just having you on? I mean, tickling a pear to get into the kitchens… come on," Theo said.

"He wouldn't… Or maybe he would, but I had a feeling he was sincere."

"Oh, a feeling. Silly me. That's definitely worth risking detention with Umbridge over, then. On our second night back, no less."

"I knew you'd agree."

They could only walk slowly, pressed together closely under Harry's invisibility cloak as they were. It was getting too small to cover the both of them. Harry remembered clearly how huge it had seemed, when he'd received it at Christmas back in first year - and how mystical. Silky like warm water to the touch, a shield of protection that he could carry with him even to the muggle world.

"-waste of my time!" Professor Snape's voice cut through the seemingly empty hallway.

They froze.

"Bugger," Theo said, barely above a whisper.

"Your arm," Harry mouthed, nodding towards Theo's uncovered elbow.

They shifted, struggling to move the cloak without making a sound.

They managed, but it was supremely uncomfortable. Harry had to hold his hand in an awkward position to keep the cloak in place, and Theo was standing so close that his breath tickled Harry's ear.

"I'm trying! I'm doing my best!" A second voice – Longbottom's – argued, and barely a moment later the boy stumbled out of the Potion Master's office.

"Remedial Potions," Theo whispered. Harry couldn't see his face, but was sure that his friend was grinning.

It had amused the Slytherins to no end when they'd heard that Longbottom was so incompetent in Potions that he needed extra tutoring - and from Snape no less.

"If this is your best, then we'd better all say our last prayers now." Snape's sallow face appeared in the open door. His dark eyes scanned the corridor, passing over Harry and Theo without seeing them, before focusing back on Longbottom.

Harry held very still, listening to Longbottom breathing loudly.

"Then what should I do, what can I change?" He sounded close to tears.

"Practice. Occlumency is a matter of the mind, Longbottom. There are no shortcuts, there is no work Granger can take off your hands."

Theo jerked in surprise, and Harry had to grab the cloak to keep it from slipping.

He had never in his life been so grateful for the invisibility cloak. He didn't even want to imagine what Snape would do to them if he caught them listening in on this conversation.

"I told you repeatedly to empty your mind. But it seems even following simple instructions goes beyond your capabilities. I don't know how to make myself any clearer, how to make you comprehend the importance of these lessons, but if you don't start improving, sooner or later the Dark Lord will take advantage of your connection."

The tension between them was palpable, a heavy cloud of bitterness and mutual resentment. Harry hardly dared to breath, and by the way Theo's fingernails were digging into his arm, it seemed his friend was feeling a little tense too.

"I'll try to-" Longbottom started timidly, but Snape didn't even let him finish his sentence.

"I don't want you to try, you have been trying for too long already. I suggest you start doing, for a change."

Longbottom didn't answer, and Harry suspected that by now the boy was too intimidated to even speak. Harry had experienced Snape's cutting criticism and harsh words first hand more times than he cared to remember, but he had never heard the Professor talk so contemptuously.

The silence stretched, and Harry became uncomfortably aware of how stiff he was standing. There was an itch in his right ear that just wouldn't go away. But then again, he'd rather be itching all over his body than allow Snape to catch them spying.

Finally Longbottom broke the silence. "I'll tr- um do, sir. I'll do it."

"See to it." Snape slammed the door shut.

They waited until Longbottom's dragging footsteps faded into the distance – could he move any slower? – only then did they dare move.

They remained hidden under the invisibility cloak, walking back to the Common Room in silence. Neither of them was any longer in the mood to go to the kitchens. When Harry took off the cloak, he got his first clear view of Theo's face. He looked just as confused as Harry felt.

The Common Room was empty at this time of the night, and they took a seat in its most secluded corner.

"So… Occlumency. Any idea what that is?"

"Nope." Harry's thoughts raced. Matter of the Mind. Possession. Connection. Dark Lord.

"I think I've heard the expression before, but I'm not sure. Obviously it's got something to do with the mind, maybe-"

"During the holidays," Harry said, interrupting his friend, "I overheard a conversation between Longbottom and the others. He seems to think he was possessed the night Arthur Weasley was attacked. He thinks he's the one who attacked him."

"Possessed? But by who-" Theo's face lost all colour. "The Dark Lord? You think that's what Snape meant by him taking advantage of some sort of connection?"

"I don't know." Harry felt too agitated to remain seated and started pacing up and down in front of the sofa. "Snape said it was a 'matter of the mind', and possession definitely is. But then again, if the Dark Lord could possess Longbottom anytime he wanted, then why is he still alive? Why doesn't he, I don't know, just make Longbottom jump off the Astronomy Tower?"

"He could be waiting for something. Maybe he has ulterior motives, the man's a bloody genius after all, and this… well, whatever it is, it definitely gives him an advantage. I mean, who says he isn't watching us all through Longbottom's eyes? Uses him to keep tabs on Dumbledore's side?"

"Or maybe Longbottom was never possessed. I mean... he was at Hogwarts at the time of the attack. He even said so himself."

"It doesn't make much sense, no," Theo said slowly. "All of this sounds completely mad. Yet, Snape warning him about this, teaching him some weird mind stuff… Makes it more credib-"

Theo abruptly stopped, a look of horror slipping over his face. He stood, grabbed Harry by the shoulder and forced him to stop pacing.

"You've got to quit Longbottom's Defence Club. Whatever you need, whenever you want to practice, you come to me. If the Dark Lord is aware of the connection, if he can posses Longbottom or is watching us through his eyes… It's too dangerous to associate with him any longer."

Harry nodded numbly. His brain was working on overdrive, analysing every encounter he'd had with Longbottom over the last few months. Had there ever been a sign of possession? Had he ever acted out of character?

Nothing came to mind, but that didn't mean much. The Dark Lord surely could remain undetected if he wanted to. And it wasn't like Harry knew what signs to look for.

"We've got to find out more about Occlumency," Harry said. "If the Dark Lord is walking around Hogwarts…"

"I'll write my father, see what he knows."

…

The week passed by without a reply from Mr Nott.

"I don't get it," Theo mumbled into his morning tea, watching the last of the post owls swoop down to the tables. "Father never takes this long to answer. Either he doesn't know or he doesn't want us to know."

Harry reached for the baked beans, and kept his voice low as he answered. "Then maybe we should try to investigate ourselves. It's Friday, so-"

"It's not as if we didn't try so far," Theo said. "We spent practically all of our free time in the library."

"But not in the Restricted Section."

Theo raised his eyebrows at Harry. "And pray tell, how do you plan to get in there? We'd need a pretty good explanation for a Professor to write us a slip."

"That, or an invisibility cloak." Harry grinned.

Slowly an answering smile formed on Theo's lips. "Yes, or that."

…

"Are you two staying up still? It's midnight already." Blaise yawned, stretching his arms.

"Yeah... I still need to finish Snape's essay," Harry said, demonstratively scribbling a few – nonsensical – words on his parchment.

"And I'm helping him. You know how hopeless he's at Potions," Theo added.

"Hey!" Harry threw one of the cushions at his friend. He wasn't that bad.

"Too true," Blaise said, earning an angry glare from Harry. "Night."

"You could have come up with something else," Harry grumbled, when Blaise had retired to the dorms.

Theo smiled mockingly. "It needed to be believable."

"You know, I'm not actually that bad, I even got an E last year. It's just that Snape hates-"

"I know, I know. In truth you're a genius. A Potions prodigy."

"Wanker." Harry closed his book with a snap, and pulled the invisibility cloak out of his bag. "Let's go."

At this time of the night, the hallways were deserted and dark, the only light coming from the waning moon outside.

They reached the first floor without encountering neither human nor ghost, and a frail, fluttery feeling of triumph started to grow in Harry, when, all of a sudden, Theo pulled him to a stop.

"Listen."

Harry pricked his ears, and indeed, there were voices, whispers, coming from somewhere to their right.

He swallowed heavily, and nearly jumped when shrill laughter broke the silence.

"Oh no you didn't!" A too high, female – and completely unfamiliar – voice called.

"Why, of course! Teaching a few trolls how to dance doesn't give him the right to criticise me! Me! In my time, oh you should have seen me, dancing at the Vienna State Opera."

"I'm sure you were fabulous. A little more wine, dear?"

They took a step towards the voices, and Harry sagged with relief.

It was only a portrait.

They reached the library without further interruptions, and headed straight for the Restricted Section, which was at the back of the library. It was dark there – unnaturally so – and they almost ran into the silky rope that separated it from the rest of the room.

"Lumos. Where do we start?" Harry asked, eying the rows upon rows of books of all colours and sizes. It didn't look like the books were sorted in any particular order, and sadly at Hogwarts he had no house elf to help him out.

"Not that one." Theo pointed at an old, mouldy book that oozed yellow liquid.

The moment Harry focused on it, a strong smell of decay filled his nose. He looked away, and the smell vanished. "No, definitely not."

"How about that one?" Theo reached out for a thick, red tome. It had no title, but a silver skull was drawn on its spine.

Before his fingers even touched the cover, fast-approaching footsteps disturbed the silence.

"Oh no." This was definitely no portrait.

Harry quickly drew the invisibility cloak back over their heads, and they tiptoed out of the Restricted Section, only to be faced with every student's worst nightmare.

Mere feet away, bathed in the light of the now burning torches, stood Filch. Filch in the company of a frilly monster in pink. Umbridge.

Theo's cold hand gripped Harry's so tight it was painful.

"You're sure there's somebody here, Argus?" Umbridge's voice was still raspy from sleep and lacked its usual, sugary overtones.

A cat meowed.

"Mrs Norris is, and she has an infallible instinct when it comes to stray students." Flich's voice was dripping with satisfaction.

"Oh yes, yes." Umbridge bent down to pet the traitorous creature. "Of course she has. Such a pretty, intelligent, brave kitty, yes, yes you are."

"They must be somewhere around here." Filch wrinkled his huge nose and breathed in deeply, as if trying to sniff them out.

"The Restricted Section, maybe?" Umbridge stood, and slowly walked towards the shelves to her right.

Harry exhaled in relief as Filch followed her, freeing their path. He tugged Theo's sleeve and they carefully, and slowly, very, very slowly, crept towards the exit.

"Meow."

They froze. Mrs Norris eyes, glowing like embers in the flickering light of the torches, were fixed on them.

"What is it, my dear?" Filch asked, stepping out from between the shelves. "Did you find them? Where are they?"

His eager little eyes searched the room, passing by them repeatedly.

"Maybe they are invisible." Umbridge's voice made the blood in Harry's veins freeze.

"Oh yes, yes." Filch was panting in excitement. "That must be it. Can you lead us to them, dearie? Show us the way."

Mrs Norris slowly heaved her bony behind from the ground, and, eyes still staring right at them, started to move. Harry's fingers closed around his wand.

Just a few more steps and they would be in the hallway… They were already standing right next to Mrs Pince's desk, where the neatly ordered stacks of parchment stood in mocking contrast to the mess they'd gotten themselves into.

Parchment.

A memory came to him. A spell he'd read in the Black library, months and months ago, a spell he'd never had the chance to try out.

"Hold the cloak," he said to Theo. It was barely audible, but loud enough to make every living being in the room, including the shabby, treacherous cat, stop in their tracks.

"Did you hear that?" Umbridge's voice had climbed an octave. Her vicious smile was at odds with the almost blissful expression on Filch's face.

Harry squeezed Theo's hand, and the other boy finally caught his bearing and released him to instead take hold of the cloak.

Harry pointed his wand at the stack of parchment on the desk, whispering the incantation.

The parchment started to rustle, distracting the adults (and cat) anew, and buying them the time Harry needed to make the curse work.

The scrolls became airborne, unrolled, and then folded into themselves again and again, until there was an army of tiny parchment dragons in their place, smoke pouring out of their nostrils, wings spread, ready to take flight.

Harry felt like the director of an orchestra as he watched the dragons rise higher into the air. He snapped his wand downward, and dozens of eyeless dragons with sharp claws, and tiny, fire spitting muzzles, shot past him and Theo, and descended on their shrieking opponents.

Harry only had time to watch one of the bigger specimen scorch Mrs Norris fur with an impressive burst of fire, before Theo pulled him away.

They ran down the hallway as if chased by the devil, only remembering to dampen the noise of their steps when they reached the dungeons, and as such Snape's territory.

Once inside the Common Room, they let the cloak fall to the ground. For a moment they stared at each other in silence, then, simultaneously burst into laughter.

There was a desperate quality to it, and Harry couldn't stop laughing, not even when his stomach started to hurt.

"That spell," Theo gasped, "brilliant. Just brilliant. Did you see Umbridge's face when that big one scratched her right across the cheek?"

"And Mrs Norris. Her fur was burning. There were actual flames."

"Merlin."

Only as he calmed down did Harry realise how wobbly and weak his knees felt. He sunk to the floor, and Theo sat down next to him.

"That was a close call."

"Too close." Harry agreed. "Guess we'll have to figure out another way in."

…

The next morning came earlier than any of them had expected, and in a form no student welcomed, with Snape's magically enhanced voice ringing through the dormitories.

"All students gather in the Common Room. Dressed."

While their dorm mates looked around confused, Harry felt like a heavy weight had settled in his stomach, and watching Theo get dressed with shaky hands, he could tell his friend felt the same.

"Snape sounds a bit irritated," Malfoy said with the nonchalance of the innocent. (Though that Snape favoured him probably didn't hurt either.)

"Irritated? More like stark raving mad. He must be, for waking us this early on a Saturday," said Blaise, disgruntledly trying to comb his hair with his fingers. He didn't look his usual impeccable self.

When they descended the stairs, most of their housemates were already gathered.

"Why, don't you look cute," Daphne said to Blaise when they joined the girls. "Quite the bedhead. Though nothing beats Harry's of course." She smiled at them sweetly.

Harry was about to rebut, but swallowed his words when Snape stalked into the room, his face set in a furious scowl.

All chatter died down immediately.

"Last night Professor Umbridge was attacked. Within Hogwarts. We have suspects, but to clear the matter up once and for all, all students are to gather in the Great Hall. I trust," Snape's eyes roved over them, resting on Harry only a tad longer, "that none of you were stupid enough to get involved in an incident of this nature."

It took everything Harry had, to keep himself from looking at Theo. They hadn't left any clues about their identity had they? But if Umbridge already suspected someone…

Could she have caught a glimpse of their faces when they were running away?

"Follow me."

Snape swirled around him, his robes snapping behind him angrily.

The Great Hall was bursting with students of all four houses, but it was a lot quieter than usual. Not even the Weasley twins were joking around.

Umbridge stood next to the High Table, a monstrous pink hat drawn deep into her face.

It couldn't conceal all her wounds though - a few angry red scratches that ran across her lips and looked as if they'd burst open at the tiniest movement, were clearly visible.

Harry could feel Theo's questioning stare on him, and scooted closer.

"A curse," he whispered. "Needs to heal naturally."

Theo's lip twitched. "You don't say."

Just then, a few students gasped loudly.

"Oh my god!" someone called.

"Is that-"

"Look!"

And soon enough, every head had turned towards the entrance of the Great Hall, where, looking like the last survivors of a terrible epidemic, Filch and Mrs Norris stood.

Filch's hair was partially burned away, and his face and hands were littered with burn marks and scratches. Some sort of orange, gooey paste was smeared all over his left cheek.

Mrs Norris fur was singed, and one of her eyes was hidden behind a bandage. She looked even shabbier than usual, like a breed between a house elf and a street cat.

Harry didn't even have to fake his reaction, as he too stared at them open mouthed. He hadn't known that the dragons could cause that much damage.

"Who of you miserable, rotten, murderous cretins blinded my cat?" Filch's shout of outrage broke the stunned silence, and triggered more or less quiet conversations around the hall.

"Who?!" he shouted again, as he hobbled towards the Head Table, giving each and every student in his line of sight a truly frightening glare.

McGonagall left her seat at the Head Table to stand next to Umbridge. The whispering receded.

"Last night," McGonagall said, "an unfortunate-"

"Unfortunate?" Umbridge interrupted shrilly. "Unfortunate?! This was a vicious and deliberate attack against me and as such the Ministry for Magic! Because of that each and every one of you will hand over their wand to be checked for misuse." A triumphant smile stretched across her face, as several students started arguing loudly.

Harry, for his part, felt like someone had tipped a bucket of ice water over his head.

Had she just implied that they could check which spells a wand had used?

If they could… what would be waiting for him?

Expulsion? Azkaban? Would they break his wand? Send him back to the Dursleys?

"She can't do that, can she?" A stupidly brave - or maybe just stupid - Gryffindor called out from the other side of the hall.

"Oh yes, yes my dear, I assure you I can," Umbridge said. "Hogwarts is the scene of a crime, and as such, I am not only permitted, but it is my duty to investigate this foul incident to the best of my ability."

She stepped off the platform and walked towards the student. "You can be the first."

She grabbed his wand.

"Priori Incantatem." She waved it, and the… ghost of a spell – Harry couldn't find a better word to describe it – formed on its tip.

When the curse she was looking for didn't appear, Umbridge carelessly threw the wand on the table, and moved on to the next student.

"I think it would be more efficient if you let us help you, Dolores," McGonagall said. She was standing at one end of Gryffindor table, near Longbottom and his friends, warily eying the proceedings.

Umbridge seemed to think on it for a moment, but then she smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Minerva. What an excellent idea. You can start down there," she pointed at the opposite side of the table. "I want to personally assure myself of Mr Longbottom's innocence."

With a part furious, part resigned look on her face, McGonagall walked down the long line of students.

At their table, Snape too started checking wands.

"Any ideas?" Harry whispered.

Theo shook his head. "Maybe if you said you've forgotten it in the dorms…" he suggested after thinking on it for a while.

"Snape will just summon it."

"You think? I mean, objectively, he does let us get away with a lot of things."

Snape was approaching fast.

"You think his bias for his house is stronger than his bias against me?"

Theo's silence was all the answer he needed. It wouldn't work.

Harry fished his wand out of his pocket. Maybe if he snapped it, said it was an accident…

The thought almost hurt him physically.

But on the other hand, if he did nothing, if he let them catch him, then they'd probably do the snapping for him, and send him to Azkaban on top…

Someone took his wand out of his hand. Harry looked up in surprise, just in time to see it disappear in the folds of Theo's robes.

"What are you…?" Harry whispered, but Theo simply thrust his own wand into Harry's hands.

And just in time.

"Mr Potter, your wand, please."

Harry handed Theo's wand over to Snape. The Professor narrowed his eyes. His lips twitched. Harry was sure that Snape knew that this was not, in fact, his wand.

"Priori incantatem." The echo of a Lumos Charm appeared, followed by a few other everyday spells. Wordlessly, Snape returned it.

"Mr Nott?" Snape held out his hand. Harry held his breath.

"I've forgotten my wand in the dorms, Professor." Theo looked straight at Snape, as if daring him to call him out on his lie. For a few endless seconds, Snape looked back and forth between Theo and Harry. He knew. And he knew, that they knew, that he knew.

"You forgot your wand? What kind of wizard are you, Nott?" Snape's tone was scathing, but low enough not to draw undue attention. "I expect that you deliver your wand to my office this afternoon. See to it that you don't forget."

Then Snape moved on.

"You are absolutely mad," Harry whispered. "Thank you."

…

Even though there was no conclusive proof, Umbridge had given Longbottom four weeks worth of detention following the statement of a young Ravenclaw student, who swore he had been out of bed at the time of the attack and had seen Longbottom near the library.

If rumours were to be believed, said student's father had been at the brink of losing his job due to some mysterious wrongdoing, but was now promoted within his department at the Ministry.

Harry and Theo had decided to postpone their next trip to the Restricted Section until they could get a Professor to write them a slip - which wouldn't be for a while, as they didn't want to arouse any suspicion.

School had almost returned to normal for Harry – no nightly adventures, no secret DADA clubs – when, on a cloudy morning two weeks later, the post brought the next big tumultuous news.

"Mass Breakout from Azkaban," Blaise read the Daily Prophet's front page out loud. At the same time, everybody else seemed to read it too. A palpable unease permeated the air.

Blaise put his paper on the table, so that they could all take a look.

Ten faces were scowling at them from the front page; a few of the wizards and one witch had been photographed in chains, all of them wore prison clothing. Above the photos, the headline read in bold letters:

MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN

MINISTRYFEARS BLACK IS 'RALLYING POINT' FOR OLD

DEATH EATERS

"Ridiculous," Harry muttered. "Seems the Ministry never tires of blaming Sirius for things he didn't do."

"Fudge's desperate," Theo said, lowering his voice so that only the three of them could hear. "I bet more people are willing to believe Dumbledore's side of the story now."

"Yeah, he needed an explanation, and fast," Blaise agreed.

"I hope that'll at least get them to chase after someone other than Sirius for a while."

"Maybe-" Theo started to say, but was interrupted by the arrival of a small, plain looking owl.

Harry recognised the writing on the envelope as Mr. Nott's, but he had never seen that bird before.

Theo made a few half-hearted attempts to take the letter, but the owl was sitting so oddly that it was just out of his reach.

"Let me get that." Harry reached for it, only to hastily withdraw his hand a moment later, almost hitting Blaise in the face with his elbow.

"Ouch," Harry said, sucking on his wounded finger, while Theo strained to get the letter himself. "What's it carrying, state secrets?"

After a series of ineffective – if comical looking – contortions, Theo finally grabbed the owl and sat it on the breakfast table.

"Sorry," Theo said. "Father trained him personally. Must be an important letter if he sends Pete."

While Pete helped himself to some bacon and eggs from Harry's plate, Theo slid closer and unfolded the letter.

Theodore,

I am well…

Harry skipped the pleasantries, looking for the relevant part. It turned out to be only one sentence. And a very disappointing one at that:

I have heard of the subject before, but don't know much about it.

Theo didn't seem to agree with Harry's assessment, and insistently tapped his finger on the bottom of the parchment.

PS: You should consider coming home for the holidays this spring. Your Aunt will be visiting.

"He wants you to come home, so what?"

Theo looked left and right, making sure that nobody was paying attention. Blaise was engrossed in the Daily Prophet, and Millicent and Pansy were whispering among themselves.

"That means he wants to tell me in person," Theo explained quietly. "My Aunt hates him, there is no way she's visiting."

Harry stared at his friend.

"Yeah, I know he's a bit paranoid." Theo huffed. "But with Umbridge inspecting our letters and whatnot, I don't think it's unwarranted." He folded the letter and neatly stuck it into one of his books. "It seems we're going to my place for the holidays."

"We?" Harry said.

Theo raised his eyebrows at him. "Of course. Knowing my father, he'll just point me to the right books and expect me figure out the rest. And I'm not doing all the grunt work by myself."

It's been more than just a little while, I know. Today I checked my profile for the first time in a while, and found a couple of reviews and PMs waiting, which motivated me to finish, revise and post this last chapter I'd started writing back in 2015. I don't know when the next chapter is going to follow, but I hope that you enjoyed this one. As always, (of the characters, writing style, plot, whatever else) are more than welcome.