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Returning to Sanity	By : AchillesTheGeek Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 31212 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter books or films, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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66 The Return of Sneaky Tactics
Monday 10 August
Rosier got to the office on Monday morning to find that his visits to Barnes and Rookwood the previous day had only just been in time. On his desk was what looked like an innocuous report of Auror responses to wizarding transits between the United Kingdom and continental Europe; but the report was in fact written by one of his best contacts in the Auror department. He cast Revelio on the document, and the real report, charmed to only be visible to him, appeared.
He sat back in his dragon-hide chair, one of the few things in the office he had kept from Anofeles' days, and read the report carefully. There had been an emergency hearing late on Sunday night and both Barnes and Rookwood were now safely back in Azkaban, he learnt. Good. They couldn't interfere from there. However, medical testimony had been brought to show that Umbridge was not up to it. Her mental state was still fragile; she would need healing, and a comprehensive review of her case, given that it now appeared that she might have been yet another victim of a Yaxley-style Imperius.
The Acting Head of DIMC smiled. It was not a nice smile. These developments played into his hands nicely, he felt. Umbridge would be near to hand, and if he used his contacts wisely he should be able to spend time with her without suspicion; while the other two were out of the picture entirely. The only problem was that the witch had been moved to St Mungo's – inevitable, he supposed, but somewhat inconvenient.
Unless … Unless his old mother's lumbago got suddenly worse. The healers had said to bring her in if there was discomfort, as she had taken pain-relieving potions for so long that the only ones that really helped her were so strong that they had to be administered by hospital staff. Which would necessitate a few days' residence in St Mungo's; and then, of course, her dutiful son would be honour-bound to visit her. And as a senior person at the Ministry, he would naturally enquire after persons of interest to the Ministry.
What a happy thing that he knew undetectable charms that would inflame just the tissues he chose. At this thought, his smile grew even more unpleasant.

Robin Banks was a man with a mission. The situation was a little delicate. Now that the ritual was over, he knew that Rosier would cut all ties with Eva Thillin. But word of events in Hogwarts could still get back to him. They needed to keep him in the dark about the fact that they knew about the conspiracy, at least until they had identified everyone who was part of the plot.
At the same time, Eva Thillin running around loose at Hogwarts could still make mischief; and he could not justify that. Nor would he accept it. They needed to weed out all of Rosier's agents at the Ministry; but the safety of the student body was paramount. Better to miss ten stooges than have one more student harmed, as far as he was concerned.
Accordingly, after breakfast on Monday he approached the Beauxbatons contingent, all smiles, and asked Madame Dubois if he might possibly have a private word in his office with Eva. The chaperone looked at him sniffily; but she could not really refuse the request of a Professor to see one of his students.
Eva, for her part, was looking exceedingly glum. The Thibaults were still having nothing to do with her, and while the other girls were not being particularly unfriendly, they had never been buddies either; so the girl was feeling very alone and unloved. A feeling which was not helped by the smiling face of her Defense Professor inviting her to his office. The man was, after all, an Auror; and she had an instinctive distrust of authority of any kind.
Ten minutes later, Eva, looking rather shaken, was sitting in the young Professor's office.
"Now, Mademoiselle Thillin," the Auror began, fixing quite a stern look on her. "I think you can guess why I have called you in today?"
"Non, monsieur," she replied.
Robin grimaced. Well, he hadn't expected her to break down easily.
"Then," he said, "perhaps I should remind you of a conversation that you had recently."
He took out a crystal from the small bag on his desk, and cast Repetitatas, and what was recognisably Thillin's voice started up.
"I tell you, eet is getting too 'ard to do anything, That Auror—"
At this point, the girl in front of him had gone white as a sheet, and Robin, not a cruel man, stopped the recording.
"You know!" she hissed.
"Yes, Mademoiselle," he replied. "We know Rosier is your contact inside the Ministry. We know he supplied you with the candle and the coins. We know you used Corner's antipathy to Harry and Draco to convince the Ravenclaws to go all out, and gave Corner the coin that should have burnt Harry Potter to death. We know that you placed the candle in Hermione Granger's room, and cast the charm to provoke her jealousy."
"Zo," Eva replied, looking down at the floor. "Eez zis where you arrest me and put me in – what is it called – Az-kah-barn?"
"By rights," Robin replied, "that is exactly what I should do. However, we still want to find out more about exactly what your Ministry contact is up to; and if we brought you to trial he would know immediately that we were on to him. But I can't really leave you free to wreak havoc here at Hogwarts. Accordingly, I have been authorised to make you an offer. We will continue the tracking spells on you; you will agree to co-operate with our investigation, refrain from contacting Mr Rosier, or indeed anyone else outside Hogwarts without my permission, and you will swear on your magic not to deliberately harm any person at Hogwarts other than in necessary self-defense. In return, instead of sending you straight to Azkaban, which we certainly could do given that the attack on Mr Potter amounted to attempted murder, we will allow you to complete your studies here."
"You mean I would not be tried?" Thillin said sharply.
"That I cannot guarantee," Robin replied. "Mr Potter and Miss Granger remain free to bring the matters formally to the Auror Department's attention, in which case we would have to proceed. But we would certainly explain at any trial that you agreed to assist us in our investigation, and so were materially involved in apprehending the imposters in the Ministry."
Thillin considered the offer carefully. But really, if she was honest with herself, there wasn't much choice. A certain prison-cell immediately compared to at least a temporary reprieve?
"Very well," she said. "What do I 'ave to do?"
Robin blew out a breath. The main sticking point was over, it seemed.
"Repeat after me," he said, and led the young witch through an oath on her magic exactly as he had outlined before.
"Very well," he said, once the oath was complete. "You may go."
"Really?" she said. "Um, what about classes? The students, they still do not trust me, I think."
"That is true, Mademoiselle. Frankly, I suggest that you seek an interview with Mr Potter and Miss Granger, explain to them that we have had this little chat, and give them a full apology."
"But – it was, you say, attempted murder? Will zey not 'ex me out of ze castle?"
"I don't believe so," Robin said, a little twinkle in his eye. "You will find that Mr Potter is a very forgiving man, Mademoiselle. As for Miss Granger, I think she may agree to follow his lead."
At this point, the Auror's face became very stern. "But do not abuse any offered forgiveness," he said forcefully. "We will still be watching you."

At lunchtime, Ron made a point to sit between Hermione and Harry.
"So, mate," he said to his best friend, "have the three of you decided whether you're going to do these exams?"
Harry looked a little divided. Of course, he wanted to do the exams; but after so many summers spent by himself at the Dursleys', while his friends were having fun with their families, he could quite see things from Ron's point of view and how that would leave him stuck all by himself.
"I kind of think we have to," he replied. "It's such an amazing opportunity. But it will leave you in classes without Hermione or me."
"Yeah," Ron said. "I was hoping – maybe you could tutor me? And we could see if the Headmistress would let me try too?"
Harry and Hermione both thought about this for a few seconds, so, surprisingly enough, it was Draco who spoke first.
"I think that is an excellent idea," the blond replied.
"You do?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Draco continued. "We have to revise the courses; what better way than by tutoring other people doing it? And maybe even mentoring in class. That way, we'd be sure to keep up with the practical work we actually need to know by September."
"That's brilliant," Hermione chipped in. "We could certainly do it in Potions, say, and Charms; do you think DADA?"
"Well, I kind of already do," Harry pointed out, "so yeah, I don't see why not. Maybe we could get a proposal together for the Headmistress? I mean, if they have to give exams, surely they don't mind if there are a few more taking them?"
"All right," Draco said, taking out a piece of parchment, "shall we ask her if we can discuss it after Potions?"
The others agreed, and Draco wrote a quick note, and, remembering that his father told him that the Ministry used paper aeroplanes for internal correspondence, decided to go one better and charmed the parchment into an appropriate form, which he then launched and watched with delight as it flew over to the staff table.
A moment later, the Headmistress was very surprised by the arrival of a paper dragonfly in front of her lunch. She unfolded it, read the note written on it, and smiled over at Draco and Harry; then wrote a short reply and Charmed it into a crane for the return journey.
Draco smiled at the innocent one-upmanship as he opened the letter.
"We're on," he said.

Professor Slughorn and Potions Master Borage were immediately taken with the idea of having their better students mentor the weaker ones. But, in order to avoid conflicts of interest, they insisted that the affianced people were not allowed to mentor their fiancés. As a result, new pairings were established immediately.
Along the front row, Ron, now that he could not be Hermione's partner, was partnered with Harry, while Draco was now Neville's partner. The teachers insisted that Harry and Draco remain in close proximity, though they did not explain their reasons to the class. Harry could see perfectly well why they needed to be close: that way, they would be able to activate the Shield if there was any further trouble. But he appreciated the fact that this was not spelled out; there was really no reason to tell the students that they were relying on this extra level of defence, especially as that would point out that they were still chary of trusting everyone. Constant vigilance was a good watch-word, but it was important to have at least the appearance of mutual good faith.
Meanwhile, Hermione, having lost Ron, her previous Potions partner, to Harry, was invited to choose who to mentor. To everyone's evident surprise, she picked Susan Bones. Harry grinned at her; Susan, like him, was an orphan, her whole family apart from her Aunt Amelia having been killed by Voldemort in the First Wizarding War, and Amelia having been killed in the second; with no family connections, and belonging to Hufflepuff, she tended to get overlooked a lot by the other students, but she must have some potential to have made it into sixth year potions.
By the end of the class, they had managed to successfully brew three of the NEWT level potions that also happened to be useful for Madam Pomfrey. Slughorn was delighted to notice that both Ron Weasley and Susan Bones had been taking careful note of their new partners, and had managed to brew the potions perfectly. He was especially impressed by Susan Bones; her aunt had been the Head of the important Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and feared and respected by all, before Voldemort had killed her. He was quietly convinced that, with her name, she would go places. He did not have the same opinion of Ron; he really only cared about people of influence, or people with potential, and the Weasleys didn't really strike him as the Right Sort, even if, by some strange quirk of history, Ron's father had managed to become Deputy Minister for Magic. Slughorn privately considered that this was simply Kingsley being nice, and wouldn't last. Nonetheless, Ron Weasley was a good friend of Harry Potter, and Harry Potter definitely was a person of influence. Perhaps even, at the moment, the person of influence. And so far, Harry Potter had resisted all of Horace Slughorn's attempts to cultivate him. No matter; Slughorn was patient; he would work through Ron Weasley. A little judicious flattery might well do the trick.
"Well done, Mr Weasley," he gushed, holding the phial that contained Ron's potion sample next to Harry's. "You may have the makings of an unsuspected potions prodigy yet! As you can see, your potion is the same colour as Mr Potter's; perhaps just a touch lighter, but well on the way to greatness."
"Thank you, sir," Ron replied, struggling to keep a straight face.
"Of course!" Slughorn said with a twinkle in his eye as he put all the potion samples into the stasis bag that was used to hold submitted phials. "Nothing you don't deserve!" he continued, as he waved them good-bye and went through the connecting door into the Potion Professor's office.
By this time, the usual six fast friends – Harry, Draco, Ron, Hermione, Blaise and Pansy – had regrouped and they left the class together. Once they were safely away from the room, Ron fell against one of the walls doubled-up in laughter.
"It wasn't that funny," Draco observed.
"No," Ron said through gales of laughter, speaking in short bursts as he exhaled, "it's just – pompous ass - he never took – any notice of me – in sixth year…"
"And?" Pansy asked, bemused.
"And he's only doing it now to get to me," Harry said, his face frowning. "It's pretty rich, really."
"Yeah, but," Ron replied, slowly getting himself back under control, "we all know – he's not going to get you – and compared to the drama of the year so far, he's pretty harmless."
Harry grinned at that, "Yeah," he replied, "mostly harmless."

The group made their way to the Headmistress's office, where they found McGonagall and Professor Flitwick waiting for them.
"Come in! Come in!" the Charms professor twittered, conjuring chairs for all of them. Once they were all seated, the Headmistress Summoned tea for them all, and fixed them with a wry smile.
"Well, Mr Malfoy," she began, "I understand you have a proposal for me?"
"Well, Headmistress," Draco replied, putting on his best Malfoy manners, "Harry and Hermione and I are very grateful for the great honour you have given us in putting our names forward for the Aptitude tests; we were just wondering if there might be a possibility of examining other students at the same time?"
McGonagall's smile widened just a fraction. "Other students, such as Mr Weasley, Miss Parkinson and Mr Zabini?"
Blaise looked nonplussed. "Actually, Headmistress," he said, "we were just thinking of Ron. After all, if these three pass their exams, presumably they won't be here for the last five months of the programme? And while we would miss Draco – and Harry – Pansy and I would have each other, while Mr Weasley would not have any close friends."
"There'd still be Neville," Ron replied.
McGonagall's eyes twinkled and Harry suddenly noticed how much like Professor Dumbledore she was becoming. Not that she was likely to dress in his garish robes any time soon; just that she was growing into the role, rather magnificently.
"I quite understand your concerns, Mr Zabini, and I can tell you that we share them, to some extent," she replied. "Though the three students, should they pass the exams, will still be required to complete their Muggle Studies projects before they can matriculate. But they will have much more free time, and will probably spend much of it away from the Castle to complete their projects, so there will be a lot less social interaction between them and the other students. Of course, these concerns cannot be the determining factor in academic matters; but equally, now that the exams have to be set, and sat, and marked, it is not a great matter if there are three students or ten actually sitting them.
"On the other hand, I do feel it would be unfair to offer the exams to Mr Weasley alone. I believe you have instituted a mentoring system?"
"Yes," Hermione replied, and explained the tutoring and mentoring that they had discussed at breakfast. The Headmistress maintained her stoic demeanor, but Professor Flitwick became more and more excited as the explanation went on.
"This is wonderful!" he said. "It makes me very happy as a Ravenclaw to find people prepared to share their knowledge!"
"I agree," the Headmistress remarked drily, "even though I am not a Ravenclaw. What was the notice period, Filius?"
"Three weeks," he replied.
"So we have until the twenty-fourth of August?"
"Yes."
The Headmistress doodled for a moment on the blotter in front of her.
"All right," she said eventually. "I think we can do it this way. Set up your tutoring and mentoring. The staff will watch you over the next two weeks. We will also have you sit the NEWTS Assessment Test, which we have devised internally here at Hogwarts, on Saturday the twenty-second. Any student whose grades improve sufficiently in our estimation and who performs at final seventh year level on the test will have their name put forward with a recommendation to the Wizarding Examinations Board that Aptitude Tests be offered. Is that acceptable?"
"That's brilliant!" Ron replied.
"Should we tell the other students?" Pansy asked.
Minerva smiled at her. "There's no need," she replied. "I shall announce it at dinner tonight."
"Right!" Hermione said, jumping to her feet, suddenly all business-like. "Ron, Blaise, Pansy, you have a lot of work to do. Draco, Harry, we have a lot of tutoring to do. We need to get onto it! Thank you, Headmistress, Professor."
She strode out of the office at a cracking pace and the others were half-way down the staircase before they really clocked what was happening. As the door shut on them, Flitwick and McGonagall dissolved into very uncharacteristic fits of giggles.
"That girl will go far," Flitwick said, once he had got himself back under control.
"Indeed," McGonagall agreed. "A natural leader in her way. I think Arthur's got it right; she will definitely turn the Ministry on its head and give it a good shake-up when she gets there. More tea?"
Meanwhile, as the students reached the bottom of the stairs, Ron had finally managed to catch up to Hermione, and gently touched her on her arm.
"Er, all right, Hermione," Ron said placatingly. "But don't forget Saturday."
"What's happening on Saturday?" Harry asked.
"Oh blimey!" Ron said. "I was supposed to tell you – it's Ginny's birthday tomorrow, and Mum wants everyone there on Saturday evening to celebrate."
Harry looked questioningly at Draco, who nodded. "Of course we'll be there," the blond said. "Any ideas for a present?"
"Well, actually," Ron said, dropping his voice, "we were kind of thinking …"

Eva Thillin came up to Harry that evening as the group was studying together in the library. The six who had been in McGonagall's office were close together; but, given McGonagall's announcement at dinner regarding the planned testing, many other students had joined them, hoping that they could indeed bring their work up to the standard to allow them to be examined early.
"Excuse me, Monsieur Pottair," Eva began. "Could I 'ave a word?"
Harry looked up at her carefully. He had had word from Robin that he was going to confront the girl, but did not know whether he had already done so. As he did so, he felt the others shifting around him, and knew that Draco and Ron were watching the girl with suspicion too. But, given that they said nothing, Harry gathered that they would leave the choice whether or not to speak with her in his hands.
"Of course," he said, determined not to be impolite. He stood up and led her to a desk a couple of steps away, but still within close reach of Draco and the other students. "How about we take a seat over here?"
She looked at him appraisingly for a second.
"I 'ad 'oped for somewhere a leetle more private," she admitted sadly, as she took the seat he had pulled out for her, "but I understand if you are not 'appy with that. Monsieur Potter—"
"Please, call me Harry," he interrupted, taking a seat across from her.
She smiled at him; but it was still a sad smile. "Zank you, 'Arry. I do not feel I deserve it. I zink you know, yes?"
Harry arched his eyebrows, but said nothing.
"I zink you know that I was the one with ze coins, and ze candle," she said, looking at her clasped hands in front of her, refusing to meet his eyes.
"Why?" Harry asked softly.
"I do not think I can make you understand," she said, her voice also softening and becoming wistful. She sat silently for a few seconds, then gathered her courage together and looked at him.
"I am poor, Monsieur. My parents were Muggles and died soon after I was born, and I was taken into an orphanage. When it was discovered I was magical, ze 'Eadmistress of Beauxbatons, Madame Maxime, she took me in. But all ze girls knew I was a – what is the word? 'Charity case'?"
Harry nodded in answer.
"So I was never popular. Maybe zey thought my poverty would infect zem. Certainly, zey thought I was not a proper lady, and many of them treated me like dirt. I did not 'ave ze right clothes, ze right make-up, ze right bearing, ze right deportment," she continued, hissing as she said each of the right things she did not have.
Harry sighed. "I understand," he said, and something in his voice attracted her attention as, for the first time, she looked into his eyes. After a few seconds of staring, she came to herself.
"Yes," she said quietly, "I think perhaps you do."
They sat together in silent reverie for a few seconds, before the moment was broken.
"And do you think that excuses your behaviour?" Draco, who had watched the whole exchange closely, demanded. He knew that Harry was likely to forgive the witch too easily; she needed to know what the others thought as well.
"Non, Monsieur Malfoy," she replied softly. "I tell you these things so you will understand. Understand how, when a pure-blood wizard gave me attention and promised me money for doing what he said were 'a few little jobs for 'im', I could not refuse. Why would I? He promised me position and wealth; and all he asked was for me to bring zum objects into the Castle for 'im. 'E said the idea was to surprise the 'onoured students with some special presents. Zo I gave the coin to Monsieur Corner; I thought 'e would give him to you, zen 'e cursed it and tried to 'urt you! And zen ze candle to 'Ermione; I did not know the charm would make 'er jealous, I swear. And ze man, 'e was not so nice, zen. 'E told me I would go to Azkaban if I told anyone. And today, Monsieur Banks, 'e said I would go to Azkaban if I did not tell! Alors, I told 'im. And 'e said to stay away from ze man, and to ask your forgiveness. Zo, I 'ave come to ask you monsieur, and—" here she looked over at Hermione – "you mademoiselle, to forgive me. I am so sorry. I 'ad to do what 'e said once the coin was thrown. Please, I beg you, please forgive me."
Harry looked at her coolly. It was all very pretty, and beautifully done; but somehow he just wasn't quite sure. Something didn't ring true.
"I'm not sure," he admitted. "I will have to think about it. In the meantime, Miss Thillin, perhaps we should not interact. If Robin is leaving you alone, I will too, and so will my friends," and here Harry glared at the others, who meekly nodded assent, "but I suggest you leave us alone. Do we have a deal?"
Eva took a deep breath. She had hoped for a better outcome; but at least they weren't enemies, and there was still a chance to convince him she had changed.
"OK," she replied with a sigh. "Zank you."
With that, she rose, turned, and left the library with perfect poise.
"Blimey," Seamus said to Dean, "she can carry herself like that, and those other girls criticised her deportment?"
Dean giggled. It seemed the Irishman was smitten. Again. He wasn't particularly worried; Seamus seemed to fall in and out of love fairly frequently, but he always came back to Dean in the end.

"Are you sure you're all right there, mother?" Rosier asked.
"Yes, thank you, dear," the elderly lady said from her sick-bed as the medi-witches fussed around her, checking that she was resting properly, that her spine was supported, and that the inflammation-reducing potion was doing its job.
"Forgive me, sir," her healer said, walking up to him, "thank you for staying, so many people just dump their relatives in our care and leave us to settle them; but I think now she needs rest, and the sleeping potion will kick in soon."
"What?" Rosier said, looking for all the world like the dutiful son who was focused only on his mother. "Oh, oh, yes, I understand. I'll be off then. Mother," he said, turning back to the bed, "I'm very busy tomorrow, but I'll try and pop in tomorrow night. Is there anything you need?"
"No, thank you, my lovely boy," she replied, but her eyelids were already drooping and Rosier could see she would be fast asleep very soon. He lovingly tucked her arm under the covers, kissed her on the cheek, mouthed 'thank you' to the healer and medi-witches, and walked out of the room.
As soon as he was away from the ward, his features relaxed into a predatory smirk. Thank goodness that charade was over! No-one had questioned a thing; they all believed he was the distraught son hoping they could cure his beloved mother, instead of the person who had caused the old harpy's present discomfort. He made his way quietly and efficiently to the secure ward where Umbridge was being kept.
Unfortunately, the Auror on duty was not one of his protégés; so he identified himself, and asked if he could see Umbridge. When asked, why, he trotted out the rigmarole he had decided on that, as the witch had been at Hogwarts for a year and was know to have a personal vendetta against Harry Potter, the Department of International Magical Co-operation had a considerable interest in the case as her actions would be monitored closely by the international community lest she pose a threat to him or to the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students currently at Hogwarts.
Happily, the man bought the story, and he entered the ward, and Umbridge's room without any further difficulty. But this caused the next unpleasant discovery of the evening as he recognised the Auror on duty: Glinda Dalben-Chun, the woman who had been chaperoning the three Beauxbatons students the last time he had talked to Eva. His eyes narrowed. The woman was a senior Auror; what was she doing here?
"Good evening, Mr Rosier," the Auror said politely. "As you can see, I have been asked to assist Madam Umbridge; a female Auror was asked for, and most of them are on active duty. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"
"Oh," said Rosier, collecting himself. It didn't sound like the woman was a plant, then. "Um, I had hoped to have a private word with Madam Umbridge. Just to reassure myself that she was being treated correctly."
"I understand," the Auror replied, and Rosier found himself wondering just how much she did understand. "But unfortunately, the patient herself seems terrified of men and will not allow them to be with her unless a woman is present."
"Surely not," Rosier said in his smarmiest tones, and turned to address Umbridge herself. "May I have a word with you? In private?"
Umbridge perked up a bit at being addressed, but her eyes narrowed.
"Will the nice lady be there?" she asked, wide-eyed.
"I think better not," Rosier replied carefully.
"No! No! No talking to the nasty man without the nice lady!" Umbridge shrieked, and then pulled the covers over her head.
"I see,' Rosier said, much more calmly than he felt. He turned to address the Auror. "I had hoped that you were exaggerating; but as it is …"
His voice trailed off, and Glinda gave him a warm smile.
"I'm sorry," she said. "We will let you know when she is more herself."
"Thank you," Rosier said, and, there really being nothing else to do, made his exit.
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Returning to Sanity