Prologue

Harry Potter and the Request for Help

Prologue

By Luke Schierer

*The very worst part of this second week’s worth of detentions was, just as George had predicted, Angelina’s reaction. She cornered him just as he arrived at the Gryffindor table for breakfast on Tuesday and shouted so loudly that Professor McGonagall came sweeping down upon the pair of them from the staff table.

“Miss Johnson, how dare you make such a racket in the Great Hall! Five points from Gryffindor!”

“But Professor he’s gone and landed himself in detention again --”

“What’s this, Potter?” said Professor McGonagall sharply, rounding on Harry. “Detention? From whom?”

“From Professor Umbridge,” muttered Harry, not meeting Professor McGonagall’s beady, square-framed eyes.

“Are you telling me,” she said, lowering her voice so that the group of curious Ravenclaws behind them could not hear, “that after the warning I gave you last Monday you lost your temper in Professor Umbridge’s class again?"

“Yes,” Harry muttered, speaking to the floor.

“Potter, you must get a grip on yourself! You are heading for serious trouble! Another five points from Gryffindor!”

“But what? Professor, no!” Harry said, furious at this injustice. “I’m already being punished by her, why do you have to take points as well?”

“Because detentions do not appear to have any effect on you whatsoever!” said Professor McGonagall tartly. “No, not another word of complaint, Potter! And as for you, Miss Johnson, you will confine your shouting matches to the Quidditch pitch in future or risk losing the team Captaincy!”

She strode back toward the staff table. Angelina gave Harry a look of deepest disgust and stalked away, upon which Harry flung himself onto the bench beside Ron, fuming.

“She’s taken points off Gryffindor because I’m having my hand sliced open every night! How is that fair, how ?”

“I know, mate,” said Ron sympathetically, tipping bacon onto Harry’s plate, “she’s bang out of order.”

Hermione, however, merely rustled the pages of her Daily Prophet and said nothing.

“You think McGonagall was right, do you?” said Harry angrily to the picture of Cornelius Fudge obscuring Hermione’s face.

“I wish she hadn’t taken points from you, but I think she’s right to warn you not to lose your temper with Umbridge,” said Hermione’s voice, while Fudge gesticulated forcefully from the front page, clearly giving some kind of speech. *

Harry sat fuming, when for some reason, he remembered something Professor Dumbledore had said years before: "Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it." Abruptly, before he could lose his nerve, he stood up and started walking up towards the head table. He was not really sure why, it was as if something was whispering in his ear, telling him what to do. It was not the floating disconnected feeling he remembered from either when Voldemort had used the Imperius Curse, or when the false Professor Moody had taught them about it. No, this was a very different sensation, somehow making him feel more in control, not less, even as he realised he had absolutely no clue what he was doing.

"Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it" the seemed to whisper in his ear, again repeating Professor Dumbledore's words from long ago as Harry reached the head table. The professors were looking at him oddly, and the hall had become very quiet, the students no doubt wondering what he was up to. Harry turned to face the hall, and, before any of the professors could interrupt, called out

"I've been told that help will always be given at Hogwarts, and so I, Harry James Potter, do call upon Hogwarts to help me now. Protect me from professors that mean me harm. Help me to defend myself from those who insult and attack me. I call upon Hogwarts to fulfil her charter and provide for all students a place to learn magic, not to be used and abused as pawns in a game we barely understand."

He was not really sure where the words came from, but as he said them, Harry realised they were exactly the right words. He might not have planned to say anything like that, it did not even really sound like something he would say, and yet, he realised he meant it. And so, he decided to continue following the script being whispered into his ear.

"Let my years here be as books. Let those who must act be forced to hear them. Let my story be used to bring justice to those who should have protected this school. Let the students of this school face those who have failed them. Let none leave until the full weight be known to all. Hogwarts, answer my plea!"

As he finished, the doors to the entrance hall slammed shut with a great boom. The walls grew so that the windows closed to slits so narrow that even Pig, Ron's owl, would have trouble getting through. A series of cracks echoed, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, Remus Lupin, Lucius Malfoy, Amelia Bones, Minister Fudge, and around 15 others suddenly appeared at in the Hall. Almost unnoticed in the commotion, seven books, along with the Sorting Hat, dropped quietly onto the owl podium before the headmaster's throne.

"But it isn't possible to apparate in Hogwarts..." Harry heard Hermione's shocked whisper across the otherwise silent hall.

Sirius quickly changed into Padfoot, using the confusion as the newly arrived adults started yelling, each asking for answers about how and why they had suddenly be pulled to appear in the Great Hall to hide in the shadows behind the high table.

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore stood and shot purple firecrackers from his wand. He looked down gravely at Harry, though Harry noted that the Professor was still avoiding his eyes. "Harry, my boy, what have you done?"

"Isn't obvious Professor?" The Sorting Hat answered before Harry could say anything. "Mr. Potter has called on Hogwarts for assistance, and assistance is being provided."

"I'm sure this really isn't necessary, I'm sure Harry did not intend to inconvenience everyone and disrupt the entire school this way." Professor Dumbledore gave his best impression of the kind grandfather, while inwardly he contemplated the seven books uneasily.

"On the contrary Professor, Hogwarts could not have responded unless Mr. Potter was entirely sincere in his need for assistance. Mr. Potter's plea for justice, safety and education has been judged to have merit by Hogwarts herself. We shall listen as the evidence in these seven books representing Mr. Potter's interactions with Hogwart's staff and his time here is presented. The students shall bear witness as you, the staff, the Board of Governors, and the Ministry are judged. Where any are found to be in violation of his or her oaths to Hogwarts, he or she shall be held accountable. Where justice can only be found beyond Hogwart's walls, then at very least Mr. Potter can rest knowing that all the adults here present shall have affirmed, on pain of losing their magic, not to deny the truths here presented ever again."

"Hem. Hem. As Senior Undersecretary of the Ministry of Magic, I demand that this nonsense cease at once and that Mr. Potter be arrested at once for threatening Ministry Officials." Umbridge's normally simpering voice had taken on a hard edge.

"Attempt to disrupt or prevent these proceedings again, Madam Under-Secretary, and you shall be the first to lose your magic." the Sorting Hat returned. "Having once made his plea, Mr. Potter is no more in control over, nor at fault for, these proceedings than you are. Now, unless one of you wants to volunteer to be an example, I suggest that all the adults raise their wands and swear the following:

I do swear to listen to the evidence presented by the life books of Harry James Potter, to take note of the crimes committed against him, and against other students Hogwarts has been charged to protect and educate, and to bear true and faithful witness to the same whenever called upon to do so."

One of the adults, who bore a striking resemblance to Marcus Flint, who had been captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team Harry's first year, spoke up. "How do we know that the evidence we hear from these books is true? This might be an elaborate trick by Dumbledore to take control."

Professor McGonagall spoke up angrily "Mr. Flint weren't you paying attention when Professor Dumbledore attempted to convince the Mr. Potter and the Hat not to continue with this, this, trial for lack of a better word?"

A tiny stooped witch with a face so lined it looked as though it had been draped in cobwebs snapped "Don't be any stupider than you have to be Flint. If you had paid attention when you were briefed as a member of the Board of Governors, you would know that the Sorting Hat is the official voice of Hogwarts, and cannot be influenced or coerced by the headmaster. Any attempt to do so would result in the headmaster being summarily ejected from the school."

A square-jawed witch with a monocle that Harry recognised from his trial as Madam Bones agreed "If you paid attention, Professor Dumbledore is as much on trial, to use Professor McGonagall's term, here as anyone else. And in any case, if we truly doubt the authenticity of the evidence, I feel confident that Hogwarts would allow us to call in an Unspeakable to validate it for us as it is presented."

"That is acceptable. If I summon the head Unspeakable from the Department of Mysteries to validate the books, will you then swear the oath?" The Sorting Hat seemed to stare at the man now identified as Mr. Flint from the Board of Governors. When he, visibly reluctant, nodded, there was another loud crack and a tall wizard in a dark blue robe appeared.

"Mr. Croaker, as the head Unspeakable in charge of research into time, please validate that these books contain a true accounting of events relating to Harry Potter's interactions with Hogwarts, its staff, and/or anything that has or shall come under the purview of the seven years he is normally to attend Hogwarts." the Sorting Hat instructed.

Croaker walked forward as if it were an every day occurrence for him to be suddenly teleported into the middle of the Great Hall of Hogwarts. He waved his wand over the books collectively in complicated patterns for a while. He then took each book, one a time, and waved his wand in yet more patterns over the individual books. He split them into three piles, the first four books into one pile, the fifth book went by itself in the middle, then the last two books in a pile to right.

"I, Saul Croaker, head Unspeakable in charge of research into time, do swear that the books in this first pile," pointing to the pile of four books, "are a true accounting of the events relating to Harry Potter's interactions with Hogwarts, and its staff prior up through the end of his fourth year of attendance with minimal extra information necessary to understand the same. I further swear that the book in this second pile," pointing to the middle pile, "contains a true accounting, mixed however between what has happened so far, and what would have happened had no impacts to the time line occurred. Lastly, I like-wise swear that the books of this last pile contain a true accounting of what would have happened had no impacts to the time line occurred."

A rumble of muttering broke out as the unspeakable finished. Eventually one of the older Ravenclaws called out "You mean that those books are a sort of future history? They tell us what will happen?"

"No." Croaker shook his head. "They tell you what would have happened. Even if we do not open them, the very fact that they appeared has changed the future. The events that will actually occur will differ in some way because the existence of these books disturbs time such that something must change. If we open the books, the more we learn about what would have happened, the greater the differences there will be between the books and what will actually happen."

"What use are they then?" another student called out. "If reading them will change everything, why bother with them?"

"That depends on your motivation for reading them. It could be that there is no point. It could be that there is something to be learned from what might have been even if it will not happen. It is not for me to judge if you should read the books." Croaker seemed indifferent to the scepticism rumbling around.

Professor Vector spoke up "What then is the motivation for reading them in this particular case. The Hat has said we will be judged, but two of these books, and some part of a third, have not happened yet. Are we to be judged on what we might do? That hardly seems just."

"If we read only what has happened so far, some of you will insist that your actions are necessary. To fully judge you as staff of Hogwarts, or as Governors of Hogwarts, or as Ministry officials in charge of Hogwarts will require seeing not just what you have done, but also what would have resulted from your actions if Hogwarts had not interfered. It is not future crimes you will be judged on, but rather that the future will yield information about your efficacy, efficiency and motivations that will inevitably assist with the defence of some, the condemnation of others, and perhaps even some of both for the majority."

It was clear that, while no one wanted to disagree with the Hat, none of the adults was really happy with that answer. After a moment the Hat continued.

"Professor Dumbledore, in light of Unspeakable Croaker's oath, do you have any doubts as to the authenticity of the evidence to be presented?"

Professor Dumbledore sat back and stroked his beard. "I do not doubt Unspeakable Croaker's oath." He said eventually.

"Will you then swear the oath?"

There was another long pause. "Is it really necessary?" "It is." the Hat returned, clearly glaring. Another pause, as Professor Dumbledore glared back at the hat, a battle of wills seemingly going on between them. Finally, "I will."

"Chairman Abbott, will you swear the oath?"

There was a stir as one of the older men stepped forward. "I see no reason to doubt Unspeakable Croaker. I will swear the oath."

"Minister Fudge, will you swear the oath?"

Fudge was clearly uncomfortable. He kept glancing, first at Umbridge, then at Malfoy senior, eyes darting around looking for an escape as he twisted his bowler hat. The Hat pressed him further. "Surely Minister, you want to see the Hogwarts staff held to the highest standards. Surely you wouldn't want the students to report back to their parents that you refused to support telling the truth."

Fudge looked sickly. "I'll swear the oath." He stammered.

"Good." The Hat said cheerfully. If the headmaster, the Minister, and the Chairman all agree, surely no one else can object. Now all of you, raise your wands and repeat after me. Yes, you too Mr. Malfoy. Raise your wand."

The Hat repeated the oath line by line. It took a few of them several tries, and a great deal of brow beating by the Hat, but eventually the Hat was satisfied that every adult had correctly sworn the oath.

"Now, Professor Flitwick, if you would please cast the dictation charm on the first chapter of the first book, we can get started." The Hat was clearly smug.