Raised to the Third Power

"That will be all." The fifth-year Gryffindors stood up and began to file out of the Transfiguration classroom. "Potter, I want a word with you," Professor McGonagall added as an afterthought.

"We'll wait," muttered Ron under his breath. Hermione nodded her agreement.

"You don't have to wait," Harry answered. "I don't want you to be late."

Ron was prepared to argue. "As I said, we'll wait!"

"You can't go wandering about withou—" Hermione began, but she was cut off by Harry, Ron, and Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall's objection naturally took precedence. "POTTER! NOW!" she snapped.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized hastily as he returned to the front of the classroom. He felt rather than saw Hermione and Ron exit in the face of their professor's ire.

"That's all right," McGonagall assured him. Her voice remained stern, but no longer held the hint of anger that had set her three students to instantly obeying her commands. "You're to come to my office immediately after your last class."

The blood drained from Harry's face. He had done nothing wrong as of late, and if McGonagall wanted to see him about prefectorial matters, she would have summoned Hermione as well. Obviously, McGonagall had bad news for him. He did his best to look relaxed and indifferent, but he must have failed miserably, because McGonagall gave a short laugh. "There's no reason to look so somber, Harry. It's only a meeting with a reporter from the Daily Prophet."

"Why?"

"A human interest piece, I would imagine."

"Why don't I get to decide whether or not I want to talk to them, then?" Harry asked rather more tartly than he had intended.

"You can, of course," replied McGonagall. The hint of anger had returned to her voice. "However, Professor Dumbledore is asking you to do the interview as a special favor to him. He was so sure that you would not refuse him that he has already instructed the reporter to arrive this evening."

Suddenly, Harry felt as miserable as he had in his life. Professor Dumbledore had been very lenient with Harry despite the long lists of rules that Harry had broken. Had Dumbledore been less kind, Harry would have been back with the Dursleys on Privet drive long ago. Additionally, Dumbledore had gone out of his way to see that Harry inherited his father's invisibility cloak and had often taken time out from being the most powerful wizard in the world to talk to Harry.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered for the second time in as many minutes.

"It's all right, Harry," McGonagall repeated, not unkindly.

"May I ask what they're going to ask me about?" Harry questioned as politely as he could.

McGonagall sighed. "If you're enjoying school. Your friends, your romantic entanglements, Quidditch. Being a prefect. They won't ask you about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or your parents. You can mention your opinions on the war if you would like. Dumbledore wants you to, I believe. The entire wizarding community is mildly obsessed with you, Harry."

"No kidding."

"You can take their minds off the Dark Lord, and you can also convince them to fight harder. You've been very sheltered. You've almost never spoken publicly. Dumbledore feels that it's time for you to begin to . . . use your celebrity for the common good."

Harry nodded. "I understand."

"You can bring Ron and Hermione with you if you and they would like. Or another of your friends."

"I don't think so." Harry's least favorite thing about being famous was the effect it had on his friends. Ron occasionally became upset at being treated as nothing more than "Harry Potter's best friend," and Hermione had been branded a seductress by the very newspaper to which Professor McGonagall was now suggesting that Harry grant an interview. Harry had also spent almost two weeks listening to his classmates make lewd suggestions, some of which he did not entirely understand, about him and his two best friends, and he had no intention of allowing these rumors to be printed by the Daily Prophet.

"It might make the situation more comfortable for you."

Harry doubted that, but he did not share his thoughts with Professor McGonagall. Instead, he simply left the room and headed for History of Magic.

Predictably, Ron and Hermione were waiting for him in the corridor just outside the Transfiguration room. "You shouldn't have waited," Harry muttered as they set off for Professor Binns' classroom at a run.

"Yes, we should have," retorted Hermione.

"You're going to have to take points from yourself, Prefect," Harry informed her.

"Professor Binns can take them," said Hermione matter-of-factly. "But he won't. He probably won't even notice us."

"He can't even get our names right," added Ron. "Besides, our Head of House knows we weren't skiving off. She's the one who made you late."

They slowed down as they heard the familiar, sickening drone of the ghost's voice. Harry and Ron stopped moving entirely; Hermione tossed them a long-suffering glance and slipped into the room ahead of them.

Hermione had been correct. Professor Binns did not even acknowledge their arrival. The other students, however, looked up with interest. Harry sat down next to Seamus and cast a quick glance at his parchment to see if he had actually deemed any of Binns' lecture worth writing down. Seamus grinned and shoved his parchment closer to Harry.

Seamus had written the words "This is boring" perhaps sixteen times across the page, but most of the space was taken up by a hideous sketch of a banshee. "Needs work," was written next to the banshee in handwriting Harry recognized as belonging to Dean.

Harry nodded his thanks, and Seamus, after making sure that they were unobserved by their professor, whispered "Is everything all right?"

Glancing around in turn, Harry muttered. "Yeah. She just wants me to talk to the Daily Prophet."

Seamus sniggered. "The price of fame."

"I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to it," Harry scowled in reply.

"Are you sure you don't want Hermione and me to come?" asked Ron, who had sat down on Harry's other side.

"Were you eavesdropping?"

"Naturally." Ron grinned.

"Be quiet," interrupted Hermione with a hiss.

"It's just History of Magic," Ron protested, flicking Hermione's quill from her fingers as he spoke. Ironically, it was Hermione's grab for the quill that finally prompted the ghost to raise his eyes from his notes.

"I would like you to pay attention to the class, or it will be points from Gryffindor." Hermione blushed furiously, but no one else appeared to feel terribly reprimanded.

Seamus, in particular, looked highly amused. "We're sorry, Professor," he said loudly. "It's just that the Daily Prophet wants to interview Harry and he needs help deciding what to say. Professor McGonagall said he could take his friends along but he wants all the publicity for himself."

"Well, Mr. Potter, I'd prefer that you discuss this problem elsewhere," said Binns in his usual monotone.

"Yes, Sir." Harry managed not to blush as Hermione had. "Thanks, Seamus," he growled under his breath.

"You're welcome," replied Seamus cheerily.

Ron grinned at Seamus over Harry's lowered head.

Harry decided that it would be in his best interests not to make eye contact with Seamus or Ron for the rest of the allotted class time. In desperation, he actually took notes on the lecture even though he knew full well that Binns was reading almost word-for-word from A History of Magic.

When the excruciatingly dull lecture ended at last, Harry heaved a sigh of relief before remembering that he now had to speak with a reporter. Hermione had obviously not forgotten. "Are you *sure* you don't want us to come?" she asked earnestly as she gathered her books.

"Yes."

"Positive?"

"Positive. You don't want them to call you a 'scarlet woman' again, do you?"

"Hey!" injected Ron.

"I don't care. I didn't care then and I don't care now," said Hermione firmly. The three were in the corridor now and walking towards their Head of House's office.

"I do," answered Harry simply.

"What about me?" Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned as one.

"Parvati?" asked Harry, surprised.

"Glad you remember me."

"Why—" Harry cut himself off. He could not think of a polite way to phrase his question. Parvati seemed to understand nonetheless.

"My being there isn't going to start rumors about anything. People might say that we're dating, but that's it, and everyone at Hogwarts will know we aren't. No one else matters. And I can distract the reporter from you a little bit if things go in a direction you don't want them to."

"She means she'll keep you from saying anything stupid," clarified Hermione. Hermione's appreciation for Parvati had increased tenfold in recent weeks as she had realized that Parvati's "ditz-like" qualities were not entirely without uses. Parvati and Hermione smiled at each other. "Take her with you," Hermione added.

"You should," Ron agreed. They had kept walking as they spoke, and now their destination rose up before them. "We'll wait for you."

Harry rolled his eyes and was near telling Ron and Hermione off for insisting on escorting him everywhere when the door opened as if of its own accord.

"Come in, Potter," Professor McGonagall's voice called. Harry nodded to Parvati, and she entered beside him. "Miss Patil," added the professor with some surprise.

"You said I could bring a friend."

"So I did. I was unaware that the two of you were so close."

"We aren't," Harry began, but then thought better of attempting to explain a plan that he himself did not entirely understand.

McGonagall seemed to think better of asking for clarification. "The reporter is inside. So is your godfather, Potter."

"Sirius?" asked Harry, delighted. Sirius had remained in Ireland for many more days than he had planned, and Harry had been concerned for his safety.

"Sirius. He just arrived a few moments ago and insisted on being present."

"He would," said Harry affectionately. He and Parvati stepped further into the office and came face to face with Sirius and a woman whom Harry presumed was the reporter. "Hi, Sirius." Harry refrained from flinging himself into his godfather's arms in the company of Parvati and the reporter.

"Hello, Harry," said Sirius, looking as if he was even less eager to be taking part in this interview than Harry himself was. "This is Daphne Collins of the Daily Prophet."

"Nice to meet you," said Harry, extending his hand to shake that of Daphne.

"And I am honored to meet you." Her gaze was slightly disconcerting. "Is this one of the Patil twins?" she added. The gaze shifted to Parvati, who looked as if she was fighting against the urge to step backwards.

"This is my friend Parvati," Harry put in quickly but uncomfortably. "Parvati, this is my godfather, Sirius."

"Hi," said Parvati uncomfortably. Sirius had met Parvati's twin sister Padma when Padma had been impersonating Parvati under the Imperius Curse, but he had never met Parvati herself.

Daphne Collins instantly began rapidly firing questions at Harry and occasionally at Parvati. As promised, each time a question seemed to be too personal, Parvati managed to inject a comment that steered the discussion elsewhere. Sirius, for his part, glared at the reporter without saying a word until twenty minutes had passed. "I'm sorry," he said then, "but it's been twenty minutes. Harry and Parvati have a busy evening." The reporter rose to leave and was rushed through the door by Sirius.

"That was fun," said Harry sarcastically.

Parvati shrugged. "It wasn't so bad." She squirmed uneasily. "Aren't Ron and Hermione waiting for you?"

"Probably." Parvati and Harry stood up as well. Harry barely had time to consider that for someone like Fred or George Weasley, being left alone in McGonagall's office would present a wealth of opportunities before Parvati gave a squeal of fright. "What?"

"Nothing. A snake."

"Where?"

"It just went outside." Parvati gestured to the door, which Sirius and the reporter had left open. "Where we're going." She made a face as Harry pushed the door the rest of the way open.

It is you, hissed the snake.

"You know me?" Harry asked, forgetting everything else that had happened that day.

How could I not?

"Are there many snakes in this castle?"

Not so many now. Will you help me?

"Help you how?"

Don't let them kill me. They want to kill me.

"Who does?"

The older ones.

"Which older ones?"

In this castle. The snake seemed exasperated.

"The professors?"

Yes.

"Why--"

Can you make her stop screaming?

Harry paused, confused. He could hear no screaming.

"I don't hear any screaming."

Never mind. Harry could have sworn the snake was smirking. For a brief moment, it reminded him of Professor Snape.

The next thing Harry noticed was his head connecting with a wall. He looked up confusedly and saw Ron standing over him. "CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?" Ron bellowed.

"Yes," said Harry. "Why wouldn't I be able to hear you?"

"Why, indeed," scowled Hermione. Harry now saw that she was standing beside Ron. Parvati was still present as well, but she was cowering inside the threshold of Professor McGonagall's office and looking as if she might slam the door at any moment. "Did you have to hit him that hard?" Hermione continued, turning the full force of her glare on Ron.

"It worked, didn't it?" Ron's voice had not yet returned to its usual volume.

"I don't see why you'd bother trying to snap Harry out of it only to crack his head open."

"My head is not cracked open!" Harry protested.

"See?" asked Ron gloatingly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry and Ron understood her unspoken comment perfectly: Boys. "Are you all right, Parvati?" she asked aloud.

Parvati nodded shakily. "Yes. I just couldn't get through to him like you did when he went into the trance. I over-reacted when I started screaming."

"No, you didn't," Hermione corrected.

Ron nodded in agreement. "If you hadn't made any noise, we wouldn't have known what this stupid prat was up to."

"Hey!" protested Harry.

Ron shrugged. "It's true. You'd think you'd've stopped talking to every snake you meet by now."

"I have to find out--" Harry began to protest, but he was cut off by Parvati.

"Lavender's waiting for me," she said anxiously. Ron, Harry, and Hermione promised to see her later, secure in the knowledge that Lavender was not waiting and Parvati simply did not want to be a part of this conversation. They could hardly blame her.

Hermione opened her mouth as if to begin scolding Harry, but Harry raised a warning hand. "We've had this argument already."

"And we'll have it again," Hermione agreed.

"But not now."

"It's as good a time as any."

Harry made a face. "It's really not."

"What do you suggest we do instead? Find another snake for you to talk to? Maybe next time you won't be able to stop speaking Parseltongue at all, and you won't have to argue with me ever again!"

"Let's go work on Loyalty Oaths."

"Let's," Ron agreed. Hermione looked from Ron's face to Harry's, and without a word the three set off to search out an abandoned classroom. None of them especially wanted to face the crowded Great Hall or eat their evening meal.

Their work did not pass long uninterrupted, however.

"Didn't your professor tell you not to play with those spells? They aren't to be trifled with." Remus Lupin entered the room.

Hermione looked nervous. "We're sorry--"

"He's kidding," Harry injected.

"No, I'm not," said Remus, but his eyes were twinkling.

"Are you going to send us back to the Great Hall?" asked Ron, offering up a winning smile in the hopes that he would receive an answer in the negative.

"Eventually."

"How eventually?"

"When I find out why Harry didn't stick around to talk to his godfather after his interview."

Harry made an effort not to let his jaw actually drop. "I forgot."

"That's clear," said Remus at the same time as Ron asked

"Sirius is here?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"We're back to looking for secret passages we didn't manage to find when we were students," Remus clarified. He smiled wryly. "It's considerably more fun than working in Ireland. Now," his gaze hardened "What happened between the end of Harry's interview and my interrupting your rule-breaking session?"

"I saw a snake," Harry admitted. He hoped not to explain the extent of his interaction with the animal to Remus, but lying to the man was not something with which he felt comfortable.

Remus nodded. "I know that you reported speaking to a snake to Dumbledore before I left. Is this the second time?"

"It's the fifth," Hermione answered for Harry. Harry glared at Hermione, and Ron did the same. Remus merely looked interested.

"The fifth?" he prompted, focusing the whole of his attention on the girl before him.

"Yes."

"Have these incidents progressed in any way? Become more frequent? Become longer?"

"Every time it happens, it's harder for Ron and me to get Harry to start speaking English again. And I don't think anyone but us can do it at all. Parvati couldn't, today."

"Interesting." Remus still looked only mildly intrigued by the information Hermione was giving him, but Harry and Ron knew that in this case appearances were deceiving. "I trust that you've told Professor Dumbledore about this?"

"No," whispered Hermione.

"I trust that you will tell him before I see him this evening?"

"Yes," Hermione answered.

"Good. Now get out of this part of the castle. It isn't safe." Remus swept from the room, leaving Hermione to face the growing anger of Harry and Ron alone.