The Master of Death

Chapter33: Observations

Sunday was pretty uneventful, and Harry mostly used the time to sort through his ideas of how to make Sirius' trial public knowledge without causing people to burn him on a stake. The remainder of the day, he and Ron went to the Quidditch pitch to train the red-heads abilities as a keeper. He wasn't as skilled as Oliver Wood had been, but played decently enough if he wasn't too nervous.
Death was watching from the bleachers and even sat on top of the hoops for some time, which caused Harry to have half a heart attack at first.

It was Monday during the third lesson – Harry was sitting in front of his cauldron which contained a spotless potion – when he was forcefully reminded that he had forgotten to finish his essay for Snape. The professor towered over him threateningly. Not that Harry was intimidated, but he had a hard time suppressing the groan that was about to leave his lips at Snape's words. "Detention Potter. Maybe that will teach you some discipline. Seven pm," and with a sneer, he added, "I've got a few toads that need to be disembowelled. Don't be late."

"You couldn't have reminded me, could you?" Harry hissed at Death after Snape had turned away. The being met Harry's glare with only a smirk.

A few tables further down, Draco sniggered. "Oh, fuck off Malfoy," Harry said loudly over his table. It was time that the guy grew up a little bit. Ron next to him snorted.

"Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape retorted smoothly without even looking up as he inspected Parkinson's potion.

"Harry," Hermione hissed. Ron grinned at him.

Harry rolled his eyes as he was met with the dark stares of the other Gryffindors.

After Potions followed Divination, during which Professor Trelawney predicted that Harry would die a gruesome death and that he would soon meet a dangerous stranger, who – what surprise – also wanted to kill him. It didn't help that she was still on probation.
Defence against the Dark Arts was even worse. Umbridge watched him like a hawk and she pressed her lips together when Harry did nothing, that would justify inviting him to another detention. He even kept his mouth shut, when she made a few comments about Diggory's death that had people whisper in shock and Dean Thomas jumping up from his chair, and yet Harry was simply staring at the dry pages of his DADA book. It didn't keep Umbridge from trying though. Even after the lesson had ended, Harry still found himself in an ongoing state of irritation.

The ghosts of Hogwarts - who were already avoiding him - turned around as soon as they saw him and during Dinner, Neville obliviously declared that the bench on which they were sitting had to be really old if it already had started to rot.

Only then, Harry reigned his magic in and he went to the common room to finish his potions essay before he went to face Snape for his detention.

It turned out, it wasn't Snape waiting in front of his office but Filch, who promptly went and led Harry to the trophy room. The awards and medals in there always caught some dust and it was a regular punishment for Hogwarts students to have to clean them without magic. After Filch had put down a bucket with cleaning utensils, he confiscated Harry's wand. "I'll be back in one to two hours. And I will know if you didn't clean anything," he said, while a purring Mrs Norris rubbed herself against his legs.

Harry watched Filch turn his back and disappear in the dim-lit hallway.

Mrs Norris' eyes were like torches as she stared at Harry. But a look from Death and she hissed, before following her owner.

"Well, it could've gone worse," Harry said and turned to Death, who was leaning against a wall.

"Better than disembowelling toads, at least." The being watched amused as Harry materialized the elder wand and cast a "scourgify" over the whole room. "Now the question is, what was so important that Snape can't handle my detention himself?" Harry said. Death raised an eyebrow.