Lordship Crisis Ep. 35 (Patreon)

A new format tonight.

“There are eyes on us.” Harry muttered to Neville as they crossed the Great Hall towards the Slytherin table. Neville huffed a small laugh.

“There are always eyes on you, Harry. You’re not getting shy now, are you?” 

“You have performance anxiety, Potter?” Draco didn’t turn back to face Harry from his spot in the front of the pack, but Harry could still see the telltale tilt of his head that Harry knew meant he was smirking. 

“You wish.” 

The tilt deepened.

“Now why on earth would I wish that?”

Daphne walked next to Harry, Susan next to Neville, and Theo behind them. The other four had built a protective barrier around the Gryffindors, ferrying them safely to the center of the Slytherin table, where an empty space had been left for them. 

Harry stared at the table, suddenly all too aware of the way the volume in the Great Hall had dropped, every eye in the room a weight on his shoulder. 

“Sit, Harry.” Draco said quietly from his right side. “Don’t look at the head table. Don’t show them your hesitation. Just sit down.” 

Slowly, Harry sat. 

One by one, his friends joined. 

He felt safe, Harry realized, flanked as he was on either side by Draco and Neville.

Had they done that on purpose? He wondered. How many times have they struck this configuration without him noticing? 

“We’re not making a scene, right?” Susan asked from her place across the table from him. “So let’s actually eat. Neville, can you pass me the chicken?” 

And so a tentative balance was struck. Staunchly ignoring the eyes they all felt, the six of them fell into a mimicry of casual conversation, taking on the texture of their quiet evenings spent together in abandoned classrooms and empty fields behind the castle. 

“Hem hem”

Harry’s blood ran cold as the soft clearing of a throat echoed through his ears. 

“It seems some of you students have gotten turned around as to where you sit, haven’t you?” Professor Umbridge her too-wide smile down at the group. 

“Hardly, Professor. We’ve simply invited some of our cohort to sit with us for dinner.” Daphne smiled up at her.

“Is that so?” The toad-like grin stretching across Umbridge’s face deepened. “I didn’t realize you and Mr. Potter were so close, Ms. Greengrass.” 

“Black.” The word tumbled out of Harry’s mouth before he could stop himself. 

“Excuse me?” Umbridge’s brow furrowed in confusion. Harry let himself press on. 

“My name? It’s Potter-Black, not just Potter. My Father was exonerated today, as I’m certain you are aware, Professor, and I would like to use his name.” 

His eyes slid past her up to the Great Hall, and locked eyes with the Headmaster.

“By the entire staff.” 

He knew Dumbledore had heard him. 

“Professor,” Susan began, pulling his attention back to the table, “There is nowhere in the rules that state we can’t-”

“It is perfectly fine, Ms. Bones.” Umbridge cut her off, a calculating glint in her eye. “Carry on with your dinner. I merely wanted to check and ensure everyone was where they wanted to be.” 

Her eyes bore down on him. 

Harry didn’t so much as blink.

“I’m precisely where I want to be, Professor.” He said, voice steady. 

She stared him down for a long moment, before finally nodding, hedging back towards the head table. 

“What the hell was that?” Daphne asked. Susan shook her head,

“Government interference, making sure we aren’t giving away anything stupid about the court meetings.” She explained. 

“Do you think Umbridge got more from what I said than I gave her?” Harry asked the group quietly. 

“She absolutely thinks you just admitted to being a Death Eater, bud.” Neville replied. 

‘Fuuuuck.”