Harry Potter: The Witty Wizard

I really don't want him in the job, but it seems I have no choice in the matter. Gran does not want to let go of control of the House and she knows Uncle Algie will do as she tells him. At least that's what I suspect.

The next Wizengamot meeting is next Tuesday and Uncle Algie will be taking the Seat then.

Anyway, I hope you're having fun at Hermione's and you're keeping out of mischief. Please also be aware Headmaster Dumbledore is back at the castle. But, he's not Headmaster any more, just a normal professor. Watch your back, Harry. But I'm sure you already are.

Your friend,

Neville

Neville F Longbottom

Heir Apparent of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom

~ # ~

By the time he'd finished reading the letter, Harry was furious. He'd specifically told that blasted woman he didn't want to see that infanticidal git anywhere near the Longbottom Seat; and that's who she goes ahead and puts there in her place?

'Right!' he thought. 'She's had her warning. Time to get serious!'

"Sirius," he quietly muttered. "I know it's going to upset Andi but he's... No, she wants Sirius to stop gadding about so, now she's back in the Black family, she can go and do the search in his place."

"What are you muttering about?" he heard in Hermione's voice from behind.

Snap-spinning about, he saw it actually was Hermione.

"Woah!" she said, taking a quick step back. "I hope that anger's not directed at me!"

Squashing his emotions back under control with his eyes closed, he took a deep breath, released it and opened his eyes again. "No." he flatly replied.

As she came forward, she asked, "Do you mind telling me what's got you all hot and bothered, then?"

Instead of answering as he knew he'd lose his temper again, he snapped out his hand with the letter in it and offered it to her.

Taking the now crumpled and unfolded sheet of parchment, she read it through.

"Augusta Longbottom wants to put a man who 'accidentally'..." he sneered, "... almost killed her grandson and ward, Heir Apparent Neville Francis Longbottom of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom, onto the bloody Wizengamot!" he snarled.

"It says here, Neville only suspects it," she said.

"There's no reason for Augusta not to tell her grandson who it is unless it's to keep me from finding out about it," he snarled. "Plus, Neville is a day older than me and due to take the damned Seat for himself on the seventeenth anniversary of his birth. That's less than three years!

"And that stupid, bloody Rosier-born woman is playing games with the Seat of the family she married into that will soon belong to my friend and peer.

"More and more, I suspect she's effectively committed Line Theft by a legal channel that sits in the grey area. At the least, she's committed temporary Line Theft, even if that's not an actual crime!

"Well! The bitch is going to rue the day she decided I was not worth her effort and decided I'm now nothing more than jumped-up boy, who should let the experienced adults run things in his place!"

"Harry," she quietly said. "You need to calm down and tell me what the prob... no, I can see that. But, I can't see why it's such a big deal to you."

Harry whirled on her again and stared at her for a few moments before he gave a huff and said, "The next lesson from me to you is on the big two alliances - the Potter-Longbottom Alliance and the Black Alliance. You need to know both because, besides now being a representative of families in leading roles of both, it'll give you the context of why I'm incensed."

"Alright," she quietly replied. "That sounds like it will be enjoyable―"

He gave a snort of amusement and turned a wry grin on her. "Only you, Hermione, would think studying political and social alliances could be enjoyable."

"I enjoy learning something new," she returned. "And this is something new."

As Harry stood there, deep in thought of what he was going to do, she said, "How about you talk to me about something else for a minute or two. That should help."

"Hunh?" he asked, having been distracted. "Oh! I received two letters today." And whirled back to the table.

Picking up and holding up the letter he received from Marchbanks, he said, "I also received a letter from Lady... I mean, Headmistress Lady Marchbanks."

Looking at it in his hand she could see it didn't appear to have been opened. It had been, though - by the aurors.

"Have you even read it, yet?" she asked.

"Errr... no," he replied.

"Then, how about we do," she suggested. "It should be in answer to the letter you sent her yesterday about the house elves, ghosts and portraits spying on the students."

Surprised, he said, "Actually, you're probably right."

Then pulled out a chair again and sat before opening the already-broken Hogwarts seal and opening the letter up.

Reading through it, he found Marchbanks confirmed that 'someone' had been using the house elves, ghosts and portraits to spy. But also said it was only three students; he, Hermione and Ron. And the last two only when they were with him, Harry.

She'd now ordered them to stop doing that and report to her if anyone tried to give any of them a similar order. The letter made it clear there would be no spying on students while she was Headmistress.

"I'm not surprised on either main point," shrugged Harry.

Hermione thought, 'That's disturbing. But, at least the change of subject has calmed my Harry down again... My? Where'd that come from?'

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Harry wasn't the only one receiving a letter that day that angered them.

At Hogwarts, Dumbledore had been to breakfast before returning to his office. As he expected, his mail was waiting for him. One of the perks of being a professor was having your correspondence delivered direct to your office, rather than to the high table at breakfast. Only his copy of the Daily Prophet was delivered there; not even his copy of the Quibbler.

A quick shift through it all and he found one addressed to him in Harry Potter's handwriting.

Excited for news on the boy, he brushed all the rest aside and quickly opened it.

Eagerly beginning to read, his first reaction was a spike of anger at the address block on the top of the letter. However, his anger continued to rise as he read. Not even having considered clamping down on his Occlumency shields before reading and with his focus on the letter, he wasn't consciously aware of what was happening.

The more he read, the angrier he got. Then, as he reached the bottom of the letter and read the final line, his anger released in a great burst.

Jumping to his feet and flinging the offending parchment away across and over the desk half-crumpled, he screamed his anger to the room. As he did so, he snatched his wand out of his belt and began firing curses of all sorts at the parchment, only to miss each time.

He'd cast his fourth or fifth curse, pretty much all of them borderline dark, when Fawkes finally decided he'd had enough.

With a mighty scream of his own at Dumbledore's back, he severed the bond between them and disappeared in a flash of white-hot flame, almost plasma. The quick flash, lasting only a split second, was still hot enough to reduce the perch to slag, sear the back of Dumbledore's robes and frizzle the back of his long hair almost to a buzz-cut. The light of it was so bright it was as if many camera flash bulbs had gone off at the same time.

It was also hot enough that, if it had lasted any more than the tiny fraction of a second it did, would have instantly set everything in the room afire. Instead, just about everything was at least slightly scorched with the parchment on the desk either side of Dumbledore that had felt the direct blast was crisped without catching fire. His desk chair, having been closer to Fawkes at the time, had all the polish on the back, side closest and top edges burnt. It left the chair smelling of burnt polish with faint wisps of smoke rising off it.

The letter Dumbledore had just received from Harry was now on the floor about five feet in front of the desk and had been protected from the flash by the desk, itself.

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