Forsaken
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
50
Views:
2,160
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
50
Views:
2,160
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Pushing Buttons
Chapter 26 - Pushing Buttons
Blaise sat slouched down in the chair farthest from the fireplace in the commons room, his eyes glazed over. There were only two other kids in the room - a
couple of second-year girls with a book open between them and their wands out, each of them mimicking the other’s movements. He could tell from where
he was sitting they were doing the charm wrong. He almost got up to correct them but didn’t as he spotted Caitlyn coming up the girls’ staircase. She watched
them for a second before bending down and showing them how to do it properly. Blaise could see the shimmer of her bracelet as her hands moved
elegantly in her demonstration.
He sighed to himself as she glanced at him in the dark corner. She kindly told the girls to go to bed, telling them that if they wanted, she could help them the
next evening. Excited at the idea, the two girls jumped up and went down the stairs, chattering quietly. Caitlyn looked around as she slowly approached
Blaise.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly. Blaise nodded.
“You?” he asked. She shrugged her shoulders, loosening a strand of thick, black hair from her messy bun.
“Still in shock, I guess,” she answered, “about everything. Potter, Weasley -“ her voice dropped to a whisper, “-- having the Raven back with us -- it’s just a
little weird.”
“Yeah,” said Blaise. “Do you think they’re for real?”
“I hope so,” admitted Caitlyn hesitantly as she sat on the footstool by his feet. “Pansy seems to trust the Weasley girl, and she was really nice today on the
train. I haven’t been around Potter enough to watch him.” He nodded, his brow furrowing slightly. “How did your meeting with Weasley and Granger
go?”
“It was torture,” said Blaise quietly, resting his temple against his fist and propping his elbow on the arm of his chair. “Their fight with Potter really threw them
for a loop. They’re not going to cut me and Pansy any slack at all, and McGonagall will be on us like gold on galleons.” Caitlyn sighed sympathetically. She
looked up and met his intense gaze, her almond-shaped eyes reflecting the flames from the fireplace. She tried to stifle a yawn, raising her hand to cover her
mouth.
“You should get to bed,” said Blaise quietly. “It’s late.”
“Yes,” crooned a voice from the center of the room. “You two should get some rest - while you still can.” Blaise jumped up and stood in between the voice
and Caitlyn. He threw out his empty wand hand.
“Accio,” he hissed quickly. There was a clicking of a tongue.
“I’m not that stupid, Zabini,” said a distinctly male voice. Blaise sneered as Theodore Nott appeared out of thin air, lowering his wand from his head.
“Nott,” said Caitlyn harshly, hiding her apprehension about what he might have heard. “What are you doing still awake?”
“I came to talk some sense into the two of you,” he hissed worriedly. “If you continue to associate with the likes of Potter and Weasley, you will suffer the
same fate as they do.”
“Joined the crowd, have you, Theo?” said Blaise softly, his eyes flicking to the boy’s left arm. “You never did learn to think on your own.”
”My brain works just fine. It’s you two who are the idiots!” said Nott. “Do you think Potter can spare you from the Dark Lord’s wrath? You two and Parkinson
are going to get yourselves killed. And it will be much worse than what he did to Malfoy.” Caitlyn pushed past Blaise and slapped Nott hard across the face.
Nott slowly turned back towards her, a small trickle of blood running down from his lip.
“Coward,” she spat. “We’ve made our choice. Now leave us the hell alone.” Blaise drew his wand, but kept it tensely held by his side. Nott smirked at
her.
“You heard the lady,” growled Blaise. “Get moving or I will make you move.” Nott looked up at him and smiled, sending chills down Blaise’s spine.
“You two are going to regret this,” he said quietly. “And I will be there to watch.” He turned and walked unhurriedly towards the boys’ staircase. Blaise could
feel Caitlyn trembling beside him. He stepped behind her and gently put his hands on her arms.
“You still sure about this?” he whispered in her ear. She turned and looked up at him.
“Are you?” she asked, her fear shining in her eyes. Blaise nodded gently.
“He can’t scare me with his threats,” said Blaise, his voice more confident than he felt. “But I -“ he paused and took a deep breath. “I’m worried about you,
and Pansy. Making threats is one thing, but there will be some who decide that threats aren’t enough.” She walked over to the sofa and sat down, pulling
her knees up to her chest. Blaise sat down next to her, leaving a small gap between them. She scooted closer and rested her head on his chest.
“Why does everything have to be so complicated?” she whispered. “Why can’t we just be normal - go to school, graduate, get a job somewhere?” Blaise
sighed sadly and wrapped his arms around her. He couldn’t answer her questions, and knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t asking for any. He
looked down sharply at the feel of her shaking. He pulled away gently and lifted her face.
“Hey,” he whispered, gently brushing her tears away. “We’re going to get through this, alright? Everything - everything’ll be fine.”
“I’m so scared,” she said, her words barely audible. Blaise swallowed thickly, forcing his hands to stay steady as he cupped her face.
“Me too, Caity,” he murmured. Caitlyn leaned forward, resting her forehead against his neck. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, comforted by her
silent presence just as much as she was comforted by his. After a while, he held his hand out and lowered the flames of the fire until they were barely
burning. He brought his hand back to rest on Caitlyn’s neck, lightly nudging his fingers against the edge of her hair.
He smirked as he thought back to how he had completely fooled Longbottom into thinking there was something between him and Pansy. Pansy had told him
numerous times she wasn’t interested, but still - he was just a touch too wary of the Gryffindors to be all gung-ho about Longbottom making the moves on
her. Longbottom was so damn awkward anyway. His shoulders shook in silent laughter at that thought, causing Caitlyn to look up. She narrowed her eyes
at him.
“You have that look on your face,” she said. “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” he lied, his tone dripping with false innocence. She shook her head and untangled herself from his arms, her fingers trailing down to his
hand.
“Goodnight, Blaise,” she said patronizingly. She squeezed his hand briefly before turning towards the staircase.
“Night, Cate,” he said softly, watching after her until she disappeared down the girls’ staircase.
~~+~~+~~+~~
The next morning found Harry storming down the hall towards Minerva’s classroom for Transfiguration, trying to tame a bit of his irritation at the fact that she
had decided to teach and be Headmistress at the same time. He had hoped she had hired a new professor, although his hopefulness hadn’t gone so
far as to imagine Minerva hiring someone who actually liked him.
He stopped outside the closed door and leaned against the wall, looking down over Blaise’s shoulder as the other boy sat on the floor reading. Blaise
glanced up at him and shut the thick book, casually stuffing it back into his bag.
“You’re not going to do anything stupid today, are you, Potter?” he asked quietly. Harry grinned mischievously.
“Depends on your definition of stupid, I suppose,” he answered.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” muttered Blaise. He looked up at Harry and frowned a little. “Why do you even bother to go to class? I’m sure you could get into the
Auror Academy based on references alone.”
“I like to earn my place,” said Harry, checking his watch. “I hate being given things simply because I’m Harry bloody Potter.”
“Can I be Harry Potter then?” asked Blaise dejectedly. “I’d love to get a free ride to the Academy.” Harry tilted his head.
“Is that what you want to do after school,” he asked, “be an Auror?” Blaise shifted his gaze to the opposite wall and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Possibly,” he said cautiously, waiting for the taunts to fly. To his surprise, Harry just nodded.
“You should talk to Kingsley Shacklebolt,” said Harry easily. “He could give you a head start on some of the --” He fell silent as several Ravenclaws joined
the queue. Blaise got to his feet as Minerva strode briskly to the door and opened it. She walked up to her desk while the students filed in behind her. Harry
chose the very back desk in the corner of the room farthest from Minerva. Blaise sat at his usual table in the middle, saving a seat for Pansy. As the last bell
rang, a few Hufflepuffs burst into the room, breathless from running down the hallway. Harry rolled his eyes and slouched a little in his seat as Minerva
waved her wand at the door to close it.
“Welcome back,” she said tersely. “Please pass forward your essays from the summer and we’ll get started with some today’s lesson.” Harry pulled out his
essay and tapped it on Ernie McMillian’s shoulder in front of him. Ernie took it and stared in slight shock at the thickness of it. He looked up into Harry’s
smirking face and turned around at Michael Corner’s hissing at him to hurry up. Michael held out the armload of parchments to Minerva, who simply
grabbed Harry’s off the top. Harry took a deep breath and stayed calm as she allowed the parchment to unroll. The bottom edge hit the floor with a sharp
snap and rolled up against her feet.
“Potter, how long was this essay supposed to be?” she asked curtly.
“Seven feet, Professor,” he answered evenly.
“Yes,” she said angrily. “And how long is this madness you’ve handed in?”
“Fifteen,” he answered, fighting the triumphant grin that wanted to spread across his face at Hermione and Ron’s shocked faces. “I know it’s a bit longer than
you wanted, but I did a bit of outside reading over the -“
“I didn’t ask for an explanation, Potter,” she said, cutting him off. She tapped the essay with her wand to roll it back up and took the rest of them from
Michael’s arms. She set them on her desk and began her lesson on conjuring objects. Harry tuned her out for the most part, having already heard basically
the same lesson from Severus over two months ago. He snapped out of his musings at the sound of his name.
“Yes, Professor?” he said in a bored tone. Minerva walked over and stood by his desk.
“Can you explain why it is more difficult to conjure things from thin air than simply transfiguring one object into another?” she asked sharply. Hermione turned
in her seat and gave him a smug look.
“Because the molecular structure of air is much more unstable than that of solid objects,” Harry said evenly. “Air molecules are farther apart than they are in
solids, and must be brought together and bound into a stable atomic pattern in order for the spell to be successful. Then you have to transfigure the physical
properties of said atomic pattern in order to get the object you want. When you change one solid into another, you only have to change the physical
properties of the materials used, not its atomic density, which is why simple transfiguration spells wear off quicker than conjuring. Same thing applies to
conjuring solids from liquids, though it is slightly less difficult than air-to-solid transfiguration.” He completely ignored the floored look of everyone in the room,
choosing to pick idly at his fingernails. Pansy and Blaise exchanged an amused look. Minerva raised an eyebrow at Harry’s unfeigned look of boredom,
her eyes flicking to the completely empty desk in front of him.
“Fifteen points to Gryffindor,” she said quietly. “Perhaps you would care to give us a demonstration, Mr. Potter?” Harry shrugged his shoulder.
“A teacup, please,” she said. Harry rolled his eyes slightly and flicked his wand into his hand.
“Any color or material preference?” he asked, holding his wand above the table.
“No, Potter,” she said dangerously, “just conjure the cup.” He carelessly flicked his wand over the desktop in front of him. The students in the first row stood
up immediately, murmuring at the lavish tea set Harry had nonverbally conjured. Harry picked up the steaming pot bearing the Hogwarts crest and poured
some tea into a cup decorated with the Gryffindor shield, eliciting more gasps and awed mutters from his classmates.
“Sugar or cream?” he asked politely, unable to keep the satisfied smirk off his face. Several students chuckled, but fell silent at a swift glare from
Minerva.
“Ten points from Gryffindor,” she declared.
“Why?” he asked rudely, his temper finally getting the better of him. “I conjured your damn cup -“
“And another twenty for your language and attitude,” said Minerva loudly.
“Shit,” muttered Harry under his breath, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest and slamming his back against his chair.
“Are you done, Potter, or do we need to keep taking points off?” asked Minerva. Harry didn’t answer. He met her stony gaze with his own and said
nothing.
“Now then,” she said in a softer tone, “I want everyone to try one teacup. It doesn’t have to be fancy and it doesn’t have to have anything on it.” She
walked back up to her desk for a sheet of parchment and a quill.
The class ended with her taking twenty points from Slytherin for Blaise and Pansy making their teacups match Harry’s tea set.
~+~
Wednesday proved no better than Monday, as Harry stepped into the classroom after lunch for a double period of Defense. He plunked his bag on the floor
and pulled out the empty seat next to Neville. Neville smiled to himself as Harry sat down heavily and dropped his head onto the desk with a soft thud.
“Can you just kill me now?” moaned Harry. Neville chuckled.
“I take it your lunch with the Wicked Witch didn’t go well,” he observed. Harry scoffed towards the floor.
“Scrimgeour was there,” he muttered bitterly. “I was almost arrested.”
“Again, Potter?” asked Blaise as he sat down at the table next to Harry and Neville’s. “That’s what - three times Scrimgeour’s tried to have you locked
up?”
“He’s only threatened to do it twice,” corrected Harry, lifting his head off the table. “At least I didn’t actually hex him this time. I think that’s a point in my favor.”
Neville’s shoulders shook as he hid his face behind his hand.
Everyone but Harry jumped at the sound of the door slamming loudly. When the room was thrown into complete darkness, a scream ripped through the air.
Chairs scrapped against the floor as everyone stood up from their seats. Harry silently got up on the desk, watching a blue glow spread over the floor. It
turned red as it pooled around various sets of feet, tracking their every movement. He felt someone else get up on the desk beside him, then move away
towards the front of the classroom. Harry tapped his head with his wand and disillusioned himself. He crouched down and waited as more and more pairs of
feet were illuminated, showing them to be frantically moving around the room.
“You children are even denser than I thought,” said a haughty voice from the front of the room. “Although I only count thirteen pairs of feet despite having
eighteen names on my attendance roll.” At a flicker of purple light, Harry fell onto his back, gripping the sides of the desk as the spell rushed just inches from
his body.
“Oh, caught three more,” said the disembodied voice. “If you are glowing in any way, move to the back of the room, as you have failed this little exercise.
Now, to catch my other two wayward students.”
A clap echoed off the walls. Immediately, the room was bathed in late afternoon sunlight, revealing Radha standing next to the teacher’s desk. Harry lifted his
head and spotted Blaise flat on his stomach on the table in front of his own. Harry immediately sat up and began silently hopping on top of chairs as Radha
aimed a stunner at Blaise. Harry immediately cast a silent shield as Blaise rolled off the table onto the floor. The stunner hit the shield hard, twanging loudly
as it was absorbed.
“Ah, we have a show-off in the room,” said Radha quietly as she tapped her head with her wand and began quickly disappearing. Harry hit her with a
Paint charm, covering her robes in neon orange paint before curtaining the windows, throwing the room once again into total darkness. He smiled at seeing
the paint glow bright orange.
“Your cheek is going to get you killed someday, Potter,” said Radha.
“Probably,” said Harry. “But it makes things more fun.” Radha clapped again to allow the light back into the room and cancelled her Disillusionment
charm.
“Allow me to introduce myself to the rest of you,” she said loudly. “I am Professor Daniella Adams and, obviously, I’m here to teach you children Defense.
Since you all are seventh years, most of our time will be spent in mock combat situations like this. If I deem your progress unsatisfactory, you will be
relegated to the library for researching purposes, which you will document in the form of essays. The shield you just saw employed will not be taught in this
class, as it is Auror-grade material. However, --“
“It’s not that hard,” interrupted Harry. “It’s a just a standard Blanket shield. It’s a hell of a lot easier to learn than Box shields.”
“And a lot quicker to cast, apparently,” added Blaise as he got up from the floor. “What kind of spells does that one take, Potter?”
“It doesn’t take Slicing or Cutting hexes,” said Harry thoughtfully, tapping his head again to cast the counter to his Disillusionment charm and completely
ignoring the furious expression on Radha’s face. He rested his hand on his hip as he stood on the desk. “And it doesn’t protect you from flying or falling
debris. I wouldn’t use it for anything stronger than a Bone-Breaking hex just to be on the safe side. Box shields can take spells with a little more behind them,
but like you said, they take longer to cast.” Radha slashed her wand in front of her, banishing the paint on her robes as she stormed towards the back of the
room.
“Everyone in a seat, now!” she shouted. Everyone moved quickly towards the desks, staring in varying degrees of horror and amusement as Harry
walked over the tabletops to where he was sitting.
“Good grief,” muttered Radha angrily. She turned and looked down at Ron. “Did your last professor let him get away with acting like this?”
“Uh,” said Ron. “No. Snape didn’t like Harry at all.”
“Hate would be a better term,” said Harry tersely, knowing what the woman was driving at.
“I can’t imagine why,” said Radha sarcastically, walking up beside him. Harry kept his eyes to the front of the room, the blood pounding loudly in his ears.
Radha grinned maliciously and leaned down.
“You’re just as arrogant as your father was,” she said softly. “He too thought he owned this castle. I would be tempted to say that he got what he deserved.”
Harry’s entire body froze. He slowly turned his ashen face towards her.
“Is that right?” said Harry, his tone even and eerily calm.
“Am I going to be next?” said Neville bravely. “Because I can tell you that I’ve already heard all of the jokes about my parents being mental, so you might
want to go a different route with me.”
“And you forgot to mention my mother,” said Harry, his hands trembling as he reached down for his bag. “And Cedric Diggory. Sirius Black. Remus Lupin.
Emmaline Vance. Amelia Bones.” He stood up from his seat, his eyes level with Radha’s. He dropped the volume of his voice so that only she could hear
him.
“And what about your father?” he whispered viciously. “Did he deserve what he got?”
“Get out of my classroom,” said Radha fiercely. “Now!”
“Oh, not to worry, Professor,” said Harry glibly. “I’m dropping your class. It’s not like I would have learned anything anyway.” He slung his bag over his
shoulder and walked towards the door, slamming it against the wall as he threw it open. Neville calmly replaced his book and stood up, slightly shocked to
meet Blaise’s gaze from where the other boy stood next to his desk.
“I believe you just lost two more students, Professor,” said Blaise casually, giving Neville a small grin.
“Four, actually,” said Caitlyn as she stood and raised the strap of her shoulder bag over her head. She picked up her book as Pansy put a notebook in her
bag. “It was nice to meet you, Professor.”
“Fifty points from Slytherin,” snarled Radha. Her fierce eyes snapped to Neville’s unimpressed expression “And twenty from Gryffindor. If you four don’t sit
down now, I’ll -“
“You’ll what?” asked Blaise. “Notify the Headmistress? I may be wrong, but I’m sure Potter’s already in her office as we speak. McGonagall is still technically
his Head of House.”
“In fact,” said Neville, the adrenaline of what he was doing racing through his body. “You can take all the House points you want. I think Gryffindor had,
what -“ he turned to Ron and Hermione, who looked at him in undisguised horror and shock, respectively, “-a hundred and two as of this morning.”
“A hundred and eight,” said Dean Thomas hollowly.
“Impressive,” said Blaise appreciatively. “But we had almost a hundred and forty already. You Gryffindors really shouldn’t rely on Potter’s Quidditch skills
and bloody heroics for points.” He turned back to Radha. “So, Professor, you have over two hundred points to take away. Why stop at just sixty?”
“If you’re leaving, get out,” said Radha tersely, drawing her wand from her robe pocket. “Or I will make you go.”
“Professor Adams,” said a deep voice from the door. “The Headmistress would like to see you immediately.”
“Open your books to page 15,” said Radha imperiously. “Read until I get back. Weasley, Granger - you’re in charge.”
“Then we are definitely leaving,” said Pansy rudely. She gave Ron a bright smile as she passed. Kingsley stepped aside to let the four of them leave the
room and waited for Radha, who flew past him in a flurry of robes. His long legs easily kept up with her shorter stride.
“You know Severus is going to have your ass for this, Dani,” said Kingsley softly, using his nickname for her.
“Shut the hell up, Kingsley,” hissed Radha. “I don’t want to hear it.” Kingsley smiled to himself, hearing the guilt underlying her anger. He slowed to a stop
and watched her make her way towards the staircase.