Chapter Fifteen of 'Winged Victory'- On Point

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Chapter Fifteen—On Point

“Are you all right?”

“Of course. Why?”

Theo pauses before stepping around the corner. He didn’t mean to get here early enough to hear the discussion that Weasley and Granger are apparently having with Harry, but he’s not displeased that he did.

“You just seemed really upset about being assigned detention by Umbridge.”

“I mean, she did it for no reason. And after what she did to Ron…”

“You have to make sure that doesn’t happen to you, Harry.”

Theo rolls his eyes. Does Granger think that Theo would let anyone use a Blood Quill on Harry? Theo was protecting him when Weasley and Granger were still running around nursing hurt feelings about the Goblet of bloody Fire.

Theo restrains his feelings after a moment, though, and shakes his head. No, he can’t think like that for long, or he’ll be so irritated that he’ll lash out at Weasley and Granger. They’re under his protection because they’re Harry’s.

He manages to get a look around the corner without revealing himself, and sees Harry awkwardly patting Granger’s shoulder. Theo sighs. He might be doing his best to accept Weasley and Granger as part of Harry’s life, but it’s just typical, in Theo’s consideration, that Harry has to be the one to comfort Granger about something that’s primarily affecting him.

But again, Theo can do nothing with those feelings, so he might as well push them away.

“I’m going to be fine,” Harry says.

“How can you know that?”

“I just will.”

Granger whinges some more about how awful she feels and how terrible everything is and how Harry didn’t deserve detention, and Harry just nods and pats her vaguely. Theo hides a laugh in his sleeve. At least Harry doesn’t feel as compelled as he did to try and soothe Granger’s feelings every time she gets upset.

“What are you doing peering around the corner like that, Nott?”

Obviously Theo hasn’t done as good a job of remaining unseen as he could have, after all. He puts on an apologetic look and steps around the corner. “I just wanted to make sure that you were okay, Harry, and ready to walk to your detention.”

“Umbridge got you doing her dirty work now, Nott?”

Theo turns and looks at Weasley without the kind of hatred he would like to use. He just looks, and Weasley is the one who fidgets and stares at the floor and glances away.

“I’m going to make sure that no one thinks that this is a good time for something mysterious to happen to Harry on the way to his detention,” Theo says, and turns back to Harry. He doesn’t resist the urge to extend his arm like he did when he was escorting Harry to the Yule Ball last year. “Shall we, my lord?”

Harry coos and flutters his eyelashes. “Of course, my lord,” he says, and takes Theo’s arm, and walks towards the corner with him.

Weasley and Granger are silent behind them. Theo shoots a glance over his shoulder and sees them standing with their mouths open. They aren’t even looking at each other, but they’re mirroring each other’s expressions perfectly.

He waits to laugh until he gets around the corner, but then he leans against Harry and does so.

Harry grins at him. “Thanks for not snapping at Ron the way I know you wanted to.”

“We’re both in your life, and neither of us is going to leave. If he’s the immature one, I don’t need to be the immature one back.”

“And you still hope that someday he’s going to be so immature or put so much emphasis on annoying you that I’ll get fed up and leave him behind.”

“You know me so well, Harry. I love you.”

“You’re not even denying it?

“Do you want me to lie to you, Harry?”

Harry shoots him a look that mingles exasperation and love, and Theo warms himself beside the fire of it as they walk through the corridors for as long as he can. But Harry halts long before they get to Umbridge’s office, and turns to Theo to stare solemnly into his face.

“What plan do you have?”

“I need your reaction to be as authentic as possible in case they demand Pensieve memories from us, so I’d rather not tell you.”

“They would do that?”

“Well, maybe not under ordinary circumstances. But the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Be-Threatened-By-Ministry-Officials and his boyfriend who’s already tried to alert the professors to her illegal use of Veritaserum? Yes, I think they’ll question us.”

“But that means they could request the Pensieve memory of this conversation, as well.”

“Not if they don’t know it exists.” Theo takes a step closer to Harry and lowers his voice. “And I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan to tell them. You’re not planning to tell them, are you, Harry?”

Harry’s breathing is becoming loud and fast, and his eyes are glazed. Theo sighs. He wishes he could stand here and pull Harry into him and think about nothing but how warm his boyfriend’s skin is and how much they could touch each other.

But this is still a corridor in a (relatively) public part of the school, and they will create more suspicion if they’re late for the detention that Umbridge has assigned Harry.

“Come on,” Theo says, and pulls back. “She’ll be expecting you, and we’ll want to make sure that she doesn’t see me, not when she already dislikes me.”

Harry gives him a long, steady look. Theo waits patiently. Ultimately, Harry is the one who has to make the decision. If he does demand to know the plan, Theo will tell him. But he was telling the truth about wanting Harry’s reaction to look natural.

In the end, Harry chooses trust in Theo, as he always does, only clasping his shoulder and leaning in close enough to steal a kiss before he turns and marches down the corridor, his face set in arrogant lines.

Theo trails behind him, smiling.

He was telling the truth about wanting Harry’s reaction to look natural. But he also wants to see the expression Harry will wear when he sees the method Theo has chosen to protect him.

Theo deserves some reward for having to put up with Umbridge this long and going through the interrogation that’s surely going to descend on them from the Ministry.

*

“Mr. Potter. Do come in, do come in.”

Theo stands far enough behind Harry that Umbridge won’t see him, but so that he can see into the office. He hears the mewing of the kitten plates she keeps on the wall as the door opens further, and he aims his wand with utmost care.

So much has to go well for this to work the way he wants it to, but on the other hand, they haven’t been able to come up with better plans, and there are things that will get them investigated if they try them, even if the spells are superficially simpler.

And Theo throws himself into it as he casts the curse, his will to make this work flowing down his wand along with the magic, along with the words flowing through his mind as he thinks, Finis fortunae.

The spell leaps over Harry’s shoulder, nearly clipping him, and crashes into Umbridge. Theo can feel it moving, but there’s no visible sign.

And then—

Umbridge is standing with her hand on the corner of her desk. As she moves a step forwards, her hand slips. She cries out as she leans sideways, and the corner of the desk promptly catches her in the ribs.

She staggers, and her foot comes down on something small on the floor that Theo can’t actually see. Her ankle rolls.

She staggers and gasps, not able to cry out properly, and then she hits something else and tilts sideways. Her head is the thing that slams into the wood of the desk this time, and down she goes, her head also bouncing off the floor with a hollow thunk.

Silence.

Harry stares, and then turns around and gapes at Theo with his mouth open. Theo comes forwards with every appearance of concern and bends down next to Umbridge, waving a hand around as if he doesn’t know where he should touch her. “Professor Umbridge?” he asks loudly.

Nothing happens, of course. Theo heard the sound as her head met the floor, and he also knows what he was willing to happen. Her skull should be cracked now, with her brain perhaps already swelling.

But it will look better if he checks, so he shakes Umbridge by the shoulders, lightly, body tense as if he’s expecting her to leap up and scream at him, and then he draws back and gives Harry a slightly panicked look. “Maybe we ought to run and get a professor?” he suggests.

“Right,” Harry agrees, a little dazedly.

He tosses Theo the expression Theo was waiting for as he turns around to leave. He’s impressed and shocked and wondering what kind of magic Theo could either use or teach him.

It’s everything Theo hoped for.

He turns and stares down at Umbridge as he hears Harry’s running footsteps fade up the corridor. He makes sure to keep the right, fearful expression on his face, but no one can change the gloating that echoes like a gong through his being.

It’s only a faint echo of the satisfaction that Theo felt when he killed his father, but still, he’s enjoying the hell out of the moment.

“Veritaserum and Blood Quills,” he whispers, and shakes his head. “Terrible things to happen to anyone, Professor. Just terrible.”

*

The Ministry insists on sending investigators to Hogwarts to look into Umbridge’s death, of course.

Theo expected that. He sits through an “interview” that’s more of a blustering session with Minister Fudge than anything else, and he and Harry probably wouldn’t even be there if not for who Harry is.

Theo just leans his chin in his palm and waits with a few bored blinks for Fudge to ask him a direct question, which he finally does. “Why did you go with Mr. Potter to his detention, Mr. Nott?” he snaps, spinning around to glare at Theo. “Hoping to get Professor Umbridge in trouble, were you?”

“No, sir. It’s because she’d tried to use Veritaserum on me in my own detention, so I wanted to make sure to protect Harry from that.”

McGonagall sucks in a shocked breath and stands up straight. Fudge splutters. Dumbledore bolts upright behind his desk.

“What?” Fudge demands. “You must be lying, boy!”

Theo shrugs a little. Snape is standing behind him, but turning around to meet his eyes would be a little obvious. “No, sir. I managed to manipulate the potion with magic so that I didn’t drink it, and I did tell Professor Snape about it. But I suppose he must be so busy that he forgot to pass the warning on.”

A ringing silence descends on the Headmaster’s office. Theo doesn’t look at Harry this time, mostly because he knows they would both burst out laughing.

“She wasn’t—she wasn’t using Veritaserum!”

“She was, sir,” Harry says, in the kind of soft firm voice that he seems to have learned makes people listen to him. “And she used a Blood Quill on my friend Ron’s hand. I thought that maybe that would get some people involved, since Ron is a pureblood, but I don’t know if he told his parents.”

“Albus!”

McGonagall is breathing fire. Theo doesn’t roll his eyes, but he wants to. She either didn’t care to know or chose not to care before this.

“You let this woman do these things, and told us there was nothing we could do? Why did you say that?” McGonagall gestures towards Fudge, who looks visibly shaken, maybe just because Harry isn’t ranting and yelling the way he thinks someone who hates the Ministry would. “See how even the Minister is upset about it!”

“Of course, if this was—this was—” Fudge clears his throat. “I suppose that we’ll find the Veritaserum and Blood Quills in her office if we search?”

“I don’t know where she kept all her supplies, sir. They might have been in her quarters instead. But you’ll probably find something there now, since she assigned Harry detention tonight for looking up from the book too much.”

“She what?” Fudge whispers.

“It’s okay, sir,” Harry says, the picture of pathetic bravery. “I’m used to it. Professor Snape assigns me detention a lot for similar reasons.”

Heat tears through Theo like the claws of a dragon. He turns his head this time, and meets Harry’s eyes even as Fudge starts shouting questions and the professors start arguing with him.

Harry smiles back, ducking his head a little, as if Theo’s attention is too much for him.

He took advantage of an opportunity he didn’t even know he would have to get vengeance on a personal enemy in a way no one can even object to.

I want to fuck him so much right now.

With effort, Theo drags his gaze away from Harry and turns it to Professor Snape. The man is snarling with hatred, glaring at Harry, who is utterly indifferent to everything. That’s the problem with spewing so much hatred on a daily basis for things like breathing too hard in class, Theo thinks. The target of your ire isn’t affected when you really are angry.

“Wouldn’t be proper—”

“Now, Cornelius, it’s not as bad as all that—”

“Do wonder what kind of school you’re running here, Albus, I wonder that very much—”

That’s the most intelligent thing I’ve ever heard Fudge say, Theo thinks.

At last the adults stop arguing and go back to glaring at each other, or Theo, or Harry, or some combination. Theo leans lazily back in his chair and brings his arm around so that it touches the back of Harry’s. He caresses Harry’s spine with his nails through his boyfriend’s robes.

Harry’s face turns a delightful red color, and McGonagall glares at them suspiciously. But she can’t prove anything, and Theo turns around with a slightly bored smile when Dumbledore speaks directly to him.

“Why did you not tell me about the Veritaserum and the Blood Quills already, Mr. Nott?”

“Well, I made the report to Professor Snape, of course, sir. He’s my Head of House.”

“I did not know about it.”

“Oh. That’s too bad, sir.”

Let Fudge wonder if Dumbledore’s professors regularly lie to and keep things from him. From the red, constipated expression on his face, he’s not wondering right now, but he should be soon.

“You need to not handle things on your own,” is what Dumbledore says next, his voice ringing like iron. “You should have come to us.”

That’s probably meant to make Theo or Harry splutter about how unfair it was that the professors ignored them in the first place, and reveal that they had something to do with Umbridge’s fall. But Theo has played this game with greater masters, because they were closer to him emotionally, than Albus Dumbledore will ever be. Theo just lets his eyes widen and shifts uncomfortably. “You think that we hurt her, sir?”

“Yes, I do.”

“What are you talking about, Albus?” Fudge is swiveling back and forth between them like a Muggle toy Harry showed Theo memories of. Pathetic. “You think that Dolores’s fall was no fall?”

“I think,” Dumbledore says, eyes drilling into Theo while Theo avoids looking into them directly, “that I would be greatly interested to see these boys’ memories.”

“Of course, sir,” Harry says. “So we’re entering a formal investigation at this point and you’ll be requesting memories based on that?”

Dumbledore hesitates. Theo wishes he could hug Harry.

A formal investigation has rules. It might mean that Veritaserum is on the table—although it won’t be the first option, since both Theo and Harry are underage—but it also means that Dumbledore can’t just use evidence like peering into someone’s head to base his accusations on. And the trial will need to take place in the Wizengamot, with its Pensieves that can show many people at once the same memory.

And a formal investigation pries into all the contexts, including why Dumbledore would make the accusation of Theo and Harry doing something to Umbridge in the first place. Which will bring up the Blood Quills and the Veritaserum.

Theo smiles angelically at Dumbledore. After a moment, the man glances away from him.

“Of course we do not need a formal investigation,” he says, and he sounds tired. It might convince someone else. There are a number of stupid people in the room. But Theo just sits and waits, and the Headmaster turns to face Fudge. “You certainly uncovered no evidence of anyone cursing Professor Umbridge in her office, I assume?”

“No. No, of course not!”

“Good…”

Theo doesn’t pay as much attention to the rest of the conversation. He has what he wants. And he’s not so interested in the reactions of Fudge and McGonagall—who will ultimately do whatever Dumbledore tells them—as he is in Snape’s reaction. He turns around in his chair and doesn’t even bother to hide that he’s staring.

For a second, Snape meets his eyes. Theo prepares to dart his gaze away if Snape tries any Legilimency, but the man simply snarls.

Then he whirls on his heel and strides from the office.

Theo nods a little as he leans closer to Harry. He doubts Snape will suffer any worse consequences than a scolding by the Minister, but it doesn’t matter. He’s had that. And if he hates Theo now as much as he’s always hated Harry?

We can get rid of him, too. If we have to.