Chapter 25: Accusations

Harry didn't even bother trying to hide his grin as he glanced at the headlines in the paper.

Government in Turmoil

Riots Continue – When will it stop?

Minister defends Undersecretary, but many remain unconvinced

Not surprisingly, the blood bigots had quickly closed ranks in shutting down any talk of an open investigation into Umbridge, likely due to the large amounts of incriminating information she held over them. Instead, Fudge had announced that a task force of dedicated Aurors specially chosen for their diligence and integrity would conduct a thorough inquiry. But that wasn't enough to satisfy the population at large.

Of course, if one were to read only the Daily Prophet, they would get the message that all was well, as the older newspaper was careful to follow the Ministry's line, downplaying the accusations and being quick to point out that there was little real evidence being offered. Fortunately, Veritas was there to tell the true story. And as the Ministry continued to deny the claims, Veritas printed more and more evidence to support their reports, including copies of the paperwork involved.

Umbridge herself hadn't been seen in Hogwarts since she ran from the Great Hall earlier that week. Officially, she still retained the posts of DADA instructor and High Inquisitor, but, in her absence, the students had been mostly left to themselves. It irritated Harry that the Hogwarts faculty hadn't been more decisive about the current situation. The Inquisitorial Squad was still allowed to remain in operation, though most were keeping their heads down, and there hadn't even been any word on a replacement teacher for class. Defense class had turned into a free period, with students not even bothering to show up.

Setting the paper down, he stood with a sigh. He'd agreed to meet Neville and Hermione in the library for one last study session before the Easter holidays, though now he was regretting it a little bit. He just couldn't focus on mundane schoolwork when there was so much to be done out in the real world. Still, he had to play the part of a dutiful student, if only to keep Dumbledore from growing suspicious about just how much power and influence Harry had accumulated despite the headmaster's interference.

Neville and Hermione were already hard at work when he finally arrived, taking a seat next to Neville at one of the tables in the back corner of the library.

"So, what are we doing today?" Harry asked.

Hermione, as usual, had taken charge of the study sessions. While Harry still had to remind her from time to time that he could make his own decisions, in this case, he felt it was best to just go with the flow. His female friend did have an excellent ability for planning and organizing, after all, and she had read a number of books relating to how the brain most effectively retained knowledge, so her study schedules had detailed plans to ensure plenty of time revising for maximum efficiency. Or, at least, that's what she said, and Harry certainly didn't have any knowledge to contradict her.

"We're going to be covering History for the first thirty minutes, then we'll switch to Transfiguration. After that, I'd like to talk with Harry about Divination for a while," the bushy-haired girl stated.

"You want my thoughts on Divination?" To say that Harry was surprised was an understatement of epic proportions. Neville appeared to share in his shock, judging by the incredulous look he was giving the girl.

"Well, you are in the class, and we will be tested…" Hermione's voice trailed off.

"Why are you still taking that class, Hermione?" Neville inquired.

Hermione squirmed just a little, and a slight blush came to her cheeks. "Well, I might have had some doubts in the beginning, but I do have to agree that there is some validity to it. After Parvati and Lavender's comments from a while back, I started looking into famous historical prophecies, and there is a strong case to be made that Divination has had a major impact on our history. In fact, I found a number of interesting reports of books of prophecy that were held in great esteem in the past. In fact, reports of one of them has even survived in non-magical culture as well. For example, I hadn't realized that The Book of Three, from Lloyd Alexander's Chronicles of Prydain, was actually based on a legend of a book of prophecy which some historians state was one of the clearest treatises on Britain's future, though, unfortunately, the book itself has been lost. But the fact that it, in all likelihood, did exist at one point suggests that…"

Harry cut her off. "Hermione, you're babbling. You've gotten a little better at lying over the past few years, but you're still not that good. You can't fool us. What's the real reason?"

Hermione glared at him for a moment before relenting as she let out a sigh. "You're right, even if there is some merit to the subject as a whole, it's clear that class with Trelawney is a waste of time. I've been thinking more and more lately about dropping the class, but at the beginning of the year, Trelawney claimed that she had foreseen that 'around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever'," the girl quoted in a surprisingly good imitation of the ominous, breathy tones their teacher used. "I'm going to hold on until the end of the year so that she can't say that her vision of the future was correct," the girl finished with a frown.

Harry had to stifle a laugh at that. It was such a Hermione thing to do.

It was Neville who broke the awkward silence at their friend's admission. "Well, we're supposed to be reviewing history. How do we want to do this?"

"I thought it would be good for us to go around in a circle and each of us asks the other two a question from the material Professor Binns has covered in class," Hermione said quickly, eagerly grasping the change of subject. "I'll start. Neville, what was the most unusual aspect of the Goblin Rebellion of 1587?"

The blond boy frowned in thought. "Was that the one with the young, non-magical woman of great strength and combat ability who turned the tide during the fighting in London, completely disrupting the goblin offensive?"

"Correct," Hermione replied with a nod. "Harry, your turn to ask a question."

Harry frantically flipped his binder open to the correct section and looked for a good question. "Okay, what building was used as the base of operations for the wizards during the rebellion of 1612?"

Time passed quickly, and soon they were headed back to Gryffindor Tower. They hadn't taken more than a dozen steps, however, when an angry voice stopped them.

"Potter, did you really think you could get away with that? Did you think no one would see?"

Harry turned, confused, to find Daphne Greengrass glaring at him. "Open your muggle contraption," she ordered with a sneer.

Though he was thoroughly puzzled, Harry complied without comment. He knew that Greengrass was just acting. She had, after all, been slipping him pieces of information all year long, though he doubted that she knew he knew that she was the one.

Greengrass snatched the binder from his hands and opened one of the zipper pouches, pulling out a rather nice quill he had purchased during one of his trips to Scrivenshaft's in Hogsmeade over the summer. "You stole this," the girl accused him, "and don't try to deny it." She placed the quill in her bag, then handed the binder back to Harry. "That will be thirty points from Gryffindor." She smirked. "You should be more careful with your possessions. Double check to make sure that you don't have anything else that doesn't belong to you. It would be such a shame if Gryffindor's Golden Boy were arrested for petty theft," she finished with a sneer as she turned and walked away.

"What was that about?" Hermione wondered as the trio watched the Slytherin leave.

Harry made no response, though he had a suspicion.

"Well, we should get back to the tower," Neville finally said, sounding a little shaken. Harry remembered that his friend had said that he and Daphne were on good terms when they were younger, and wondered what it must be like to see people you had known as young children take such different paths in life. Of course, if his suspicions were correct, Daphne's chosen path wasn't quite as far from their own as his friends might think.

They finally arrived at the tower, and Harry wasted no time going up to the dorm away from the curious glances of the common room, with Neville and Hermione following him confusedly. He checked quickly to ensure that they were alone in the room, then opened the binder, inspecting the zippered pouch Daphne had searched.

Not surprisingly, a small, folded piece of parchment had been left inside.

Hermione and Neville gasped in understanding, as Harry began to read.

Potter,

Yes, I'm your secret informant. I'm guessing you already figured that out.

Umbridge has been in contact with the Inquisitorial Squad and is planning something with Pansy Parkinson. I don't know what, but it won't be good for you. Be careful.

Harry kept a close watch on the Slytherin table the next morning at breakfast. As he had expected, Pansy Parkinson was glancing over at him more frequently than normal, and her expression could only be described as a malicious smirk.

Daphne had been correct. Parkinson was up to something. The question was what, and when would she act?

Harry frowned in thought. Tomorrow, most of the students would be leaving for the Easter holidays, though Harry would be staying, along with Hermione and Neville, to Harry's surprise, as the blond boy usually returned home at Easter time. Would Parkinson be staying as well? That seemed unlikely. Most of the Slytherins spent the Easter holidays with their families, though many of them called it something else. Harry couldn't remember what, though. Beltane, perhaps?

He gave up on that train of thought. Magical holidays didn't matter – only the present threat. He would need to be on guard. If she did plan to act before leaving for the holidays, Parkinson had twenty-four hours to act.

Class that day was a dull affair. Everyone was too focused on the upcoming break to pay much attention in classes, and the teachers knew it. He had finished Divination (once more rolling his eyes as Hermione made a lame excuse to sneak off so she could use her time-turner) and was looking forward to food, idly wondering if a real foreteller would be able to predict what Pansy was planning.

Harry was walking toward the Great Hall for lunch when the hairs on the back of his neck stood. He was being watched, he knew it, though he couldn't say for sure how he knew. He paused, his hand slowly drifting to his wand, when a flash of light in the corner of his eye had him diving to the ground, safely dodging the spell that had nearly hit him. He was surprised to note that it had not been anything particularly harmful, just a stinging hex, but that didn't mean anything. There was no reason to assume that his attacker wouldn't use a more dangerous spell next.

He kept his wand at the ready as he moved forward toward the side corridor where the spell had come from, glancing around him occasionally to ensure he wasn't ambushed. He spun around the corner, wand pointed with the incantation for a stunner on his lips. But there was no need. The narrow hallway was deserted.

Harry frowned as he noticed something on the ground. Still cautious of a trap, he moved to pick up the object, nearly dropping it in shock as he recognized the item.

A scrap of paper had been pinned underneath, and he picked it up as well. His mind raced as he read the short message.

You're going to need this.

He recognized the handwriting. How could he not? After all, it was his own.

He looked once more at the object in his hand, one of the magical flashbang grenades Chad had created for DragonFire, already charged, primed and ready to detonate.

A thousand thoughts flashed through the dark-haired teen's mind, all of which boiled down to one question. What in the name of Merlin is going on here?

Harry entered the Great Hall, trying not to let anyone see the concern he felt. He had several theories about what was happening, and none of them were good.

Still, he tried to act normal, though it was clear from the looks Hermione and Neville were shooting him that he wasn't succeeding as well as he had hoped.

It was just after he had finished his first plate that the main doors to the Hall opened, and all conversation ceased. Students looked up to see the Pink Toad herself enter, a triumphant sneer on her face as she gazed in his direction, followed by the entire Inquisitorial Squad and two Aurors, all of them with wands drawn.

Harry glanced over at the head table where the professors sat. Not surprisingly, while they all seemed surprised and, in some cases, angry, none of them said anything. In fact, though he obviously couldn't prove it, Harry got the impression that Dumbledore was very deliberately not looking his way.

I guess that means I'm on my own here, the teen realized.

"Harry Potter, come here," Umbridge ordered, much to the surprise of most of the occupants of the room.

Harry considered ignoring the command, but quickly decided that it would be best to play along for now. "Why, Professor Umbridge, what a pleasant surprise to see you here again," he said with a smile. "I feared we wouldn't have that opportunity after you fled the premises when news of your actions was revealed."

He felt a swell of satisfaction as the loathsome woman's face reddened at the reminder of earlier embarrassment.

"I have been cleared of all wrong-doing by a thorough investigation, and will once more be filling my duties here at Hogwarts," Umbridge stated in a simpering voice, speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear. "As for the fraudulent claims in the propaganda piece that ironically claims the name 'Veritas', they have all been shown to be misunderstandings at best, and outright lies at worst. As such, that poor excuse for a newspaper has been banned by the Ministry, as it is clearly the work of subversives intent on undermining the very government that protects our great society."

It was clear that the majority of the students were no more excited about this than he was, but Harry ignored the angry mutters this announcement elicited. After all, that wasn't why Umbridge was here today.

"Though it is surprising that you are so concerned about the accusations against me, given your own heinous actions," the High Inquisitor continued. "Miss Parkinson, is this him?"

"Yes," Pansy said, her voice tremulous, though Harry could detect a not-so-hidden undercurrent of malevolent glee. "That's him. That's the one who tried to rape me."

Only the knowledge that this was all part of the plan kept Harry calm as he was escorted to Umbridge's office. After all, things had to happen a certain way, because, clearly, they already had. He hoped that made sense. After all, he was basing everything on a wild assumption, with only a piece of paper and a magical grenade as clues.

When they finally arrived, he was forced to sit on a wooden chair in the center of the room, with the Inquisitorial Squad all around him. The Auror Harry didn't know took a position at the door, while the one he did, the exceptionally corrupt Gibbon, stood near Umbridge.

"You tried to accuse me of crimes over the summer, and I managed to successfully defend myself then," Harry said, keeping his voice level with some effort. "What makes you think that this will be any different?"

"We have a witness this time," Umbridge said sweetly, gesturing to Pansy.

Harry scoffed. "Anyone with half a brain knows she's lying. And all I have to do is take veritaserum to prove it."

"Veritaserum isn't allowed in underage trials, for the suspect's own good," Umbridge replied, her voice turning sympathetic and almost pious at the end.

"You really shouldn't do this, Pansy," Harry warned. "You're lying, and I'll prove it. This isn't going to end well for you."

"You're right, I'm lying," Parkinson gloated. "But nobody will believe you over me. All I have to do is stand there and shed a few tears about how the horrible boy attacked me, and they won't hesitate to throw you to the dementors."

"That's if you even survive that long. Who knows what might happen in the meantime?" Gibbon mused thoughtfully. "After all, prisoners die trying to escape all the time."

"And even if somehow the charges Miss Parkinson will be laying against you are not sufficient, we have plenty of evidence of your other crimes," Umbridge said triumphantly. "We know you are one of the criminals known as Justice who tortured the students last year, and that you are in league with the murderers who attacked an upstanding business in Knockturn Alley."

Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise. Does she have any real evidence, or is that just a guess? Unfortunately, there was no way to be sure.

Dumbledore's inaction earlier made it obvious that he would make no effort to help Harry. At least, not at this juncture. Perhaps he would swoop in at the last minute to save the day, but Harry had no desire to wait, helpless, in the hope that the headmaster would finally do the right thing.

No, he had the tools that he needed, supplied by himself. He just had to figure out how to make it all work.

His life depended on it.

A/N – Yes, I'm stopping there. Sorry for the cliffhanger, and for the shorter than normal chapter, but with what's coming next, I decided this is the best place to end it. Also, my apologies about missing last week. It took a while to get this chapter to work the way I wanted.