The Speaker and His Wraiths

Turning the Tables

Consequences Aren't Always Negative

Umbridge dragged Harry through the castle, and she seemed to make a bit of a show of it as numerous students stared at them with wide and oh so innocent doe eyes as they rushed by. She grinned the whole way, ignoring Harry's bored and disinterested expression completely.

When they reached the gargoyles guarding the Headmaster's office, Harry briefly entertained the notion that Umbridge wouldn't know the password. She did, however, and it was as ridiculous as ever.

"Fizzing Whizbee." Umbridge said in a sing-songy tone, and Harry grimaced at the sound of it. She really was happy, wasn't she? Disgusting.

They climbed the steps before Umbridge practically threw the door open, and when Harry was dragged inside he noticed the room was full of people.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, serene and smiling as ever; Professor McGonagall stood beside him, her usually stern expression twisted with concern and anger. Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge was clearly anxious as he rocked back and forth on his heels, a bright smile split across his features; Percy Weasley was there too, clearly in attendance to take notes as he stood in a corner with a quill and parchment, watching with keen eyes behind square spectacles.

For Harry, seeing the man who'd nearly killed Draco was most shocking of all. It was Kingsley Shacklebolt, according to a few of his Wraiths who recognized the man during their parley with Voldemort, an Auror for the Ministry. He'd attempted to blow Draco up, and Harry had almost let it happen. Draco would probably be dead if not for Voldemort, and the man who'd thrown a deadly explosive curse of white sparks that could cave in ribcages was standing there as an Auror by the Minister's side. The second Auror Harry didn't recognize, so he merely skipped over the man.

Another astonishing revelation, the portraits were awake. Every slumbering and spying Headteacher was wide awake, staring down at Harry with both accusational and interested gazes. Some of them whispered to their neighbors through the frames, much to Harry's amusement. He was glad he was intriguing to them, at least; if they'd finally decided to acknowledge him by giving him their waking attention they should at least be entertained.

"Well, well, well..." Fudge grinned, wicked satisfaction on his face. Harry gave him a sarcastic salute in return.

"He was headed back to Gryffindor Tower." Umbridge said sweetly, and as her hand tightened on his arm Harry finally yanked it away from her. She didn't stop him, thankfully. Harry would've had to break her arm again if she tried. "The Davies boy cornered him."

"Did he?" Fudge nodded approvingly, "I must remember to inform his parents of this triumph. Well, Potter, I expect you know why you're here?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn't. His throat was tight and no sound came out. Expressionlessly, Harry glanced over at Dumbledore. The Headmaster was looking just past Harry's shoulder, and he shook his head so minutely Harry would've missed it if he'd been able to look away.

"Nope." Harry said, taking a stuttering breath as his lungs and mouth cooperated. "Not a clue."

"I beg your pardon?" Fudge blinked, "You don't know?"

"Nope." Harry repeated, and he barely kept a straight face at the childishly confused expression Fudge aimed at Umbridge. Dumbledore shifted, and Harry glanced at him to see an approving twitch of a nod and the ghost of a wink.

That was not a good fucking sign.

"So you have no idea why Professor Umbridge has brought you to this office?" Fudge asked, regaining some of his composure to quip at him with disbelieving sarcasm. "You are not aware you have broken any school rules?"