The (Not-So-)Black Letters

Story: The (Not-So-)Black Letters

Summary: Harry sends a surprising letter to Headmaster Dumbledore. He's joined Voldemort. What Dumbledore doesn't understand is why Harry has to keep sending mail...mail that reads itself aloud, nonetheless...during breakfasts...at the Great Hall!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of his characters.

Hope you enjoy it!

I'm terribly sorry, both about being almost 2 days late in my update and for the chapter itself. While I planned on having a funny, easy-going chapter today, my muses decided it should be brooding and sad instead, and I could do nothing to stop them. I guess my own mood unduly influenced this update. At least the political side of things is coming along nicely. *sigh*. Again, I'm sorry. Next chapter should be up by Saturday -and it should be more humor-centered!.

I want to thank all my reviewers, and specially ladyedgecombe, dreamer27, Mya Malfoy, Bones, chrisddavies and SilverLion for their support. You are what keeps me updating, so please -don't forget to review! ;)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Hedwig flew into the Hall the following morning, blessed silence met her. The fifth table was missing and most teachers and students were feeling subdued, after the previous day’s excitement.

Parents and students alike had crowded the Headtable, and the members of the Board had had to push past the creaming throng of people to be able to deliver their summoning: it seemed there was to be an official investigation, as Dumbledore had been summoned for an official Hearing the following week. The citation’s announcement, which had taken place before the whole Hall and the press’ attentive eye, had calmed –if only slightly- the pressing crowd, which Dumbledore had evicted from the castle as soon as the Board left the school, along with the reporters.

Unfortunately –for him- that had ended the brief respite granted by his staff, as they no longer felt duty-bound to support the Headmaster, with the public eye away from Hogwarts’ walls. And what that meant was an angry staff questioning his every choice in the last forty years –mercifully, out of the students’ earshot. Even Fawkes had seemed upset at him.

It wasn’t until two in the morning that he’d managed to get the teachers out of his office, with the pretense of getting some sleep before the following morning’s letter.

Without heeding his wishes, his feet had taken him to the Great Hall that morning, just as had happened every day since the first letter arrived. But unlike the first days, Dumbledore’s dread of said letters was threatening his by now precarious control. He had been annoyed by the letters before, sure, but the last ones had hit too close to home –destroying everything the Headmaster had worked so hard to build. He still didn’t have the slightest clue as to how the brat had managed to uncover some of his best, and furthest-reaching plots, but the way he had not only known but managed to present actual evidence against him –it was deeply disturbing, and for the first time in years, Dumbledore felt a tendril of fear creeping into his mind.

The foe he was facing had, apparently, no weak points he could exploit; he, the Chessmaster, had been masterfully played, and he had the feeling the move that would end the game was not so far as he’d hoped. He had to react, and soon, but the whole thing was overwhelming –he just couldn’t face a war in so many fronts, with the looming pressure of the next move in a couple of minutes, a new problem rising every morning. He couldn’t plan against the unexpected; he’d remained unmatched for so long he no longer knew how to play against someone other than himself.

For the first time in many years, he felt his age acutely, making him feel tired beyond words. Maybe he had gotten too old to play this games, he mused, stroking his black beard absently.

When the black letter rose, he accepted it with a weary, defeated nod.

“Good morning, everybody.

I’d love to stay and chat, but the Twins got involved in something unsavory –it’s a wonder those two made it to adulthood- and my time is, right now, precious. My third’s year summary will have to wait for another day.

But there is something from third year I want you to remember –the Defence’s Professor. You remember him? Of average height, caramel eyes, brown hair...Turned into a wolf every full moon.

He was part of a very select group back in his teens, when he still attended school. A group of pranksters, friends, brothers in everything but blood. He was a Marauder.

Unfortunately, of the original four, not much remains. Prongs is dead, betrayed by Wormtail, who is not only not a marauder anymore but will soon be dead himself, and Pafdoot is dead too. Then we have Moony, the last marauder alive. But marauders aren’t supposed to betray the bonds that tie them together –and Moony chose to take the Headmaster’s side against the last of his brood. And so I, Harry James Potter, declare that Remus John Lupin is no longer welcome between the Marauders. Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin are therefore declared traitors of the worst kind. Their bonds will be snapped and shall remain forever broken.

Try to use your little werewolf pet to approach me again if you dare, Dumbles. I wont be so lenient again with an attempt against my person.

Yours,

Harry”

Silence spread through the Hall, as the students turned to each other, surprised by the solemn tone of the letter, and the betrayal it implied. Dumbledore had sent Professor Lupin to kill Harry?

Snape’s fury, if anyone had thought to look, would have stunned many. It wasn’t like the dark teacher at all to feel angry at an attempt against that Potter Brat’s life. What they didn’t know was that Snape had been hanging around the Dark Lord’s Headquarters lately, listening on his fellow Death Eaters’ opinion on the young man, and his loyalties were slowly, but surely, shifting.

Before bursting to flames, the letter rose once more, and this time it was the twins’ voice emerging from it.

“We’ll have to forgo today’s prank. It is a sad day, a solemn day, that should be held in the most serious regard. Let’s mourn the Marauder’s end. May their pranks be remembered forever.”

If Harry’s serious, almost desolate tone hadn’t been enough to make everyone strangely moved, the twins’ unusual seriousness would have done it. This time no one bothered to confront the Headmaster past a few reproachful glares, and the day ended on a note of subdued sadness.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

R&R? Please? Kill-Moony cookies for every reviewer!