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The Secret Society Chapter 16: Leaving Hogwarts
🕑 Added 2023-03-13 02:06:17 +0000 UTCHarry had dark circles under his eyes as he tried not to doze off. However, Umbridge’s spectacular teaching method made it more challenging than it should have been.
Even his desire to act like the perfect future Ministry stooge couldn’t stop his eyes from closing.
“Mr. Potter!”
Harry’s eyes shot open, realizing that class had ended and the students were already filing out. He cursed in his mind for not drinking a pepper-up potion to prevent this from happening, but it was too late for any regrets. He put a guilty look on his face as he looked at Umbridge.
“Professor Umbridge,” Harry sounded apologetic, “I hope you forgive me for being inattentive.”
“I don’t appreciate my students treating my classroom as a place to nap, Mr. Potter. Especially one that is as promising as you.”
Harry looked away from her as if he was ashamed. Hearing her chiding tone, he wasn’t too concerned that Umbridge would see him in a bad light. Besides, this could be used to increase her favor toward him ahead of schedule.
“… Professor, I know this isn’t an acceptable excuse, but I spent most of the night tailing Longbottom.”
“Longbottom?” Umbridge’s interest wasn’t hidden, “Now, why would you do that? I wasn’t aware you had any dealings with… the boy.”
“I don’t,” Harry shook his head frantically as if he was terrified that she would think otherwise, “Longbottom is always up to no good, but the staff always ignored it. With the Ministry stepping in, I hoped I could find him doing something I could report.”
Harry kept up the nervous look on his face as Umbridge slowly thought over what he said. It was honestly a bit too long of a wait. It was hard to act inferior to such a deficient witch.
“I commend you for your enthusiasm, Mr. Potter,” Umbridge finally replied, “But don’t think I missed that you were out after curfew. That is something I expect from Mr. Longbottom, not you.”
“Ah, sorry,” Harry apologized sheepishly.
“However, in light of your good intentions, I’ll let you off with a warning,” Umbridge said with what she thought was a comforting smile, “In the future, use this.”
Harry watched Umbridge take a small pass from her desk drawer and hand it to him.
“It’ll allow you to ignore curfew. If you feel Mr. Longbottom is acting suspiciously, you can investigate without fear of getting punished.”
Harry stared at the pass in his hands for a few seconds before smiling gratefully at Umbridge. “I won’t let you down, Professor. It’ll only be a matter of time before I catch either Longbottom or his friends.”
“Good,” Umbridge nodded, “Now, off you go, Mr. Potter. I don’t want to keep you for too long.”
“Thank you again, Professor,” Harry said before leaving the class.
The pass Harry had received wasn’t expected. All he had intended to do was use his drowsiness to conveniently increase Umbridge’s favor for him instead of having it cause a problem. This was an unforeseen reward.
As far as Harry knew, only the Head of House could give out a pass like this. If Umbridge was only a Defense professor, she wouldn’t be capable of doing so. It looked like the Ministry could pull some strings inside Hogwarts, even with Dumbledore watching over it. It was likely that Malfoy’s father was the cause after he became bolder as one of the governors this year.
Understandable since his master had recently come back from the dead.
Harry pushed those thoughts out of his mind and anxiously walked to the Great Hall. His research on Thompson’s curse had carried late into the night until he had unintentionally nodded off to sleep. That would have been fine if he had found out what afflicted Thompson, but Harry had come up empty. He must have come across it in a book he didn’t own.
Unfortunately, by the time Harry had woken up, breakfast was already over, so he couldn’t see if Thompson was affected by the removal of the Stone like he suspected. Harry also had to skip lunch due to having to make arrangements to leave for Paris later that day, so dinner would be his chance to satisfy his curiosity.
Harry sat in the seat Greengrass had saved for him and greeted her distractedly while searching for Thompson. It took him a good minute to realize she wasn’t in her usual seat.
“Looking for Thompson?” Daphne asked when she saw his attention elsewhere.
Harry nodded as his eyes roved the Ravenclaw table for the girl. He was starting to think that he wouldn’t be able to see her until he returned from Paris.
“Look at the Hufflepuff table. She’s sitting with the sixth years.”
Before Harry even looked at the Hufflepuff table, he knew who Thompson would be sitting next to. The two boys that she had been talking to at the station. The ones that Harry thought would be the pureblood saps that would be her target.
“She’s in a different mood compared to the last two days. Did you do something?”
Harry nodded while trying to focus on Thompson’s face, but she was seated too far away to catch any details. “You could say that.”
Harry wondered if removing the Stone was like depriving an addict. Thompson changed her habits rather quickly by not sitting at the Ravenclaw table. From what he remembered, she always kept a distance from her targets in public. Perhaps the removal magnified whatever curse she was under, if Lovegood was telling the truth.
“Greengrass,” Harry’s serious tone made her look at him warily, “Keep an eye out for your sister for the next few days.”
“Why?” Daphne asked sharply, “Is Thompson targeting her? Maybe you should stay and take care of it. The auction isn’t nearly as important.”
“It’s just an abundance of caution,” Harry shook his head, “Thompson has other targets in mind.”
Daphne frowned at Harry before looking at Astoria, who was staring straight at her and smiled widely when their eyes met. She wondered if her little sister would be just as happy when she locked her up for the weekend.
“Fine. If you turn out to be wrong….”
“You’ll have to cover for me while I’m gone,” Harry said, ignoring the blatant threat.
“Do I?” Daphne raised an eyebrow, “Careful, Potter. It almost feels like you’re mistaking what our relationship is.”
“Trust me, that would be impossible,” Harry’s voice was dry, “After what you did to your ‘friend,’ I doubt anyone would be foolish enough to replace that empty spot.”
Daphne’s eye twitched as she considered whether she was being insulted. It was likely she was, but there wasn’t much she could argue about when it was the truth. There weren’t many that dared to befriend her after that.
“As you say, Potter. Since you happily pointed out our relationship, what do I get in return for helping you?”
“What do you get?” Harry repeated, and he looked at her incredulously, “Did you forget that my trip to Paris is beneficial to you?”
Daphne shrugged as she waited for him to offer her something.
“No, Greengrass. I won’t offer you another chance at the Room for this. I already feel that I’m being generous by traveling to Paris, of all places.”
Daphne rolled her eyes and said, “Fine, I suppose I could help you this one time without a deal.”
“You’re truly generous, Greengrass,” Harry said before ignoring her in favor of his dinner.
Dumbledore was supposed to be gone until Monday, so everything was working out in his favor. He could get to Paris and return with little possibility of being caught.
The only issue was the way Harry would leave Britain. Apparition was out of the question since he didn’t know how to do it in the first place, the floo network was only available for domestic travel, and muggle methods were too slow. That left only one option.
Portkey.
However, Harry could not get one that was properly registered with the Ministry due to him being a student, so he had to look for the black market variety.
Thankfully, those were all the rage these days, with the Dark Lord rumors creating unease among Britain’s brighter witches and wizards.
Harry snuck out the Hogwarts under his cloak with his most valuable belongings in the magically enhanced pouch on his waist. With him being gone for a few days, there was no reason to risk leaving anything behind when they could easily be carried.
It would be a disaster if a Professor broke into his room for whatever reason and found what he possessed. Especially some of the books he found in the Room or the Sorrow Stone.
Harry walked to a rarely visited part of Hogsmeade and cast the voice-changing charm on himself when he saw a lone figure waiting.
“Portkey?”
Harry saw the man jump in shock and drop a tattered hat to the ground.
“W-Who’s there? Show yourself, lady!”
Harry changed his voice to sound feminine, his go-to pick, to make it sound as different as possible from his natural voice.
“That won’t be necessary,” Harry narrowed his eyes at the dodgy man, “Do you have the portkey or not?”
“Bloody hell. Why can’t I deal with a normal bloke once in a while,” The man muttered as he picked up the hat he dropped, “Here. A portkey to Paris. That’ll be two hundred galleons.”
Harry shifted to get out of the man’s line of sight and dropped a pouch of gold on the ground. “There you are. You can leave the hat on the ground.”
Harry watched him place the hat next to the dropped gold before pocketing the payment. He ignored the continuous curses that were being muttered by the man until he apparated away.
It wasn’t the most secure of plans to use a portkey made this way. Still, the seller was highly rated… considering the circumstances. Harry had gathered a ninety-nine percent success rate, with the remaining percent being failures that took you on a ride before depositing you where you started.
An annoyance but nothing dangerous.
Harry picked up the hat and walked to an area near the Shrieking Shack before pulling off his cloak and storing it. The portkey was scheduled to leave in a few minutes, and he had no desire to lose his family heirloom on the way.
When the hat started glowing a soft white, Harry took a deep breath and prepared himself for the uncomfortable sensation that accompanied most magical travel.
The world around Harry began to spin and swirl, blurring into a dizzying array of colors and shapes. He closed his eyes and held tight, bracing himself for the stomach-emptying experience ahead.
Occlumency came in quite handy in this situation as Harry closed himself off to the nauseating sensation and emptied his mind. It was only when the wind died down, the noises grew softer, and the colors around him began to solidify once more that Harry started to pay attention to his surroundings again.
Harry could see the ground rapidly growing closer. He shifted his position upright for a softer landing and gently touched back on the ground, finding himself on the outskirts of Paris. He straightened his clothes and pulled out his wand.
If he remembers correctly, the French equivalent of The Knight Bus was summoned differently.
Harry took out a galleon and cleared his throat before bending down to tap his wand on the ground. “L’Express Magique.”
*BANG*
Harry grimaced at the jarring noise of a small explosion right in front of him. That was one thing it shared with The Knight Bus.
“Bonjour monsieur, bienvenue à bord du L'Express Magique!”
“Er, Hello,” Harry replied in English, suddenly realizing the auction might also be in French. In fact, it was likely that was true. He just hoped they provided translators.
“Oh? An Eenglishman! ‘Ow rare!”
“How much to Maison Sorcellerie?” Harry cut through the possible small talk.
“You are ‘olding a galleon, no?”
Harry didn’t realize that the fare was what he summoned the bus with. He reluctantly handed the gold coin to the conductor and stepped onboard.
Harry froze momentarily at what he saw before heading down the aisle to take a seat. He wasn’t sure who decorated the bus like this, but they must have been so far up their own arse that they didn’t realize how ridiculous it was to decorate a bus like a Merlin-damned palace.
It honestly looked like someone transplanted the Palace of Versailles into the interior of a bus. It went as far as to include ornate gold and silver accents, plush velvet seats, and crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.
Harry was a little comforted that the French were as bonkers as his own countrymen with their tastes.
“Prochain arrêt, Maison Sorcellerie!”
Harry held onto the railing as the bus started to pick up speed and disappeared from muggle eyes.
He really, really hated magical transportation.
