I'm the What, Now?

by befoulmetalroosa

Summary:

Sirius didn't run that Hallowe'en night. Instead, he assumes his duties as godfather, throwing a spanner in Dumbledore's plans. With the help of the Malfoys, the wizarding world is freed of the Dark Lord. Only, one man refuses to believe that his world is now safe, and will do anything to see himself elevated to the status of a god.

Chapter 1

Sirius apparated to Godric's Hollow, grey eyes wide on the destroyed cottage. "Oh, Merlin," he moaned softly, trembling in fear. Shaking himself out of his momentary fugue, he darted into the house, knowing he had but moments before Dumbledore or the Order arrived. He bounded up the stairs to the second floor, skidding to a halt outside the nursery.

There, by the crib, lay the lifeless body of Lily Potter. Tears ran unchecked down the animagus' face as he stared at his dead friend. He'd barely glanced at James as he ran through the house, mind intent on getting to Harry. His eyes tracked across the floor, widening at the pile of ash and burnt clothing; the only evidence that someone else had been in the room. Snarling, Sirius stormed over to the pile and kicked it, scattering the dust into the wind, before he turned back to the crib.

Stepping carefully around Lily's body, he lifted his godson into his arms, using a corner of the bed sheet to wipe at the blood running sluggishly down the baby's face. Harry calmed instantly once he was in his Uncle Padfoot's arms, leaning forward to wrap pudgy arms around the older man's neck. Black looked around the room for anything that might be worth taking, before exiting out the large hole in the side of the house.

He levitated himself gently down to the ground, then, holding tightly to his godson, he turned on the spot, apparating to the Leaky Cauldron. Once inside, he got a room key from Tom and charged upstairs, entering the room and locking the door. Remus stood from the bed, face anxious as he darted over to Padfoot. "Is he all right, Siri?" the man asked desperately, pulling the child from his godfather's arms.

"He's fine, except for that cut on his forehead," Black replied as he began to pack up the few belongings the men had with them. "We need to go now, before Albus finds us." Nodding, Remus held out the untraceable portkey, waiting for Sirius. The animagus wrapped his hand around Harry's arm and placed the baby's hand on the Frisbee, making sure that his own knuckles were also touching the plastic disk. "Toujors pur," he murmured, bracing for the yank behind the navel as they were whisked away to safety.

They landed in Black Manor, on the outskirts of Paris. The stone citadel was warded to the teeth, making it invisible and unplottable. House elves quickly popped into the foyer, taking the child and guiding the adults to their suites, where they were pampered and fussed over before they fell into bed, exhausted.

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In Godric's Hollow, an old wizard was throwing the temper tantrum of the millennium. He'd gotten there a scant few minutes after Sirius had apparated away, and was now infuriated that his puppet had slipped his strings before he'd been able to tighten them. Hagrid hadn't arrived yet; still trying to find a way to get there so that he could transport little Harry to the safe house that Dumbledore had arranged.

"Blast and damn!" the old man snarled as he stared at the empty cot. "Who in blazing hell had gotten here before me? And where the ruddy hell is Hagrid, for Merlin's sake?" Casting his senses out, he found the magic of apparition outside the cottage, in the front yard, and hurriedly used his magic to track the destination. Frowning when he received the information, he immediately apparated away, landing in the bar of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Did someone check in recently?" he barked to Tom, the barman. Though Sirius had extracted a promise from the barkeep to not mention anything, the cowering man couldn't refuse Albus anything, and so told him.

"Sirius Black apparated in maybe ten minutes ago. He took room key twelve, and is up there now."

"Thank you," the headmaster barked as he charged up the stairs and down the hall. He used his magic to unlock the door and barged into room twelve, blue eyes darting frantically around, looking for any sign of the animagus or the child. Finding nothing there, he extended his magical senses once again, trying to find the magic that had transported the pair away. He couldn't sense any traces of magic whatsoever, and screamed in frustration as he realized that Sirius had most likely used an untraceable portkey.

He apparated straight back to Hogwarts, storming up the stairs and into his office. He sat behind the desk and scowled, thoughts whirling as he tried to figure out a way to somehow track his patsy's whereabouts. He thought of scrying, but knew that the Blacks had a number of heavily warded manors that couldn't be plotted, so his mind turned elsewhere. I'll just have to keep my ear to the ground, and hope that they show up somewhere.

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Narcissa sat in the drawing room at Black Manor, invited there by Sirius. It was information provided to her by Lucius that ensured that Sirius would be in Godric's Hollow in time to rescue his godson. "Why am I here, cousin?" she asked softly. "I know that you hold no kinship for my family or me."

"That's not true, Cissa," Sirius told the blonde softly, Harry playing on the rug before them. Every now and then, Narcissa would look at the little boy with a fond smile, before slamming her mask back into place. "It was because of you and your husband that I was able to get to Harry before Albus could. If Lucius hadn't have told me of the attack through you, I would have lost my godson."

"Lucius no longer wishes to be at the monster's beck and call," she told the animagus, voice quivering. "He thought to tell you of the attack, so that you may look kindly upon him, and perhaps be willing to help Severus and he escape the clutches of the Dark Lord forever."

"Does he have any idea how to do that?" In response, Narcissa pulled an old diary from the bag she had carried into the manor. The house elves had scanned it using their magic, and had seen nothing but the cursed item. They reported to their master that it was free of any harmful curses. She handed the book to Sirius silently, shuddering at the feel of the dark magic that radiated from it. The animagus took it from her hands, and started sneezing violently. He quickly tossed it into the fire, frowning when it didn't burn.

"I'm allergic to black magic," he told the woman sheepishly, still watching the diary. "It's not burning, which means it has some rather powerful protections around it."

"It is a horcrux," she said softly, smiling slightly at the dumbfounded shock that appeared on Sirius' face. "It contains a piece of the monster's soul, and ensures that he will rise again. Neither Lucius nor I wish for that to happen. We do not wish for Draco to have to face being forced into slavery by the Dark Lord." Sirius shot a controlled fiendfyre at the fireplace, ensuring that Harry was out of the way first, and watched as the diary went up in flames, the soul piece attached to it screaming in agony as it was burned away.

"Do you know how many there are?" he asked softly.

"Bella has a cup in her vault that the Dark Lord was especially concerned about," Narcissa answered slowly. "We heard about Ravenclaw's missing diadem, and had spoken to the Grey Lady about it. She told us that the Dark Lord had charmed her into revealing its location while he was still a student. We know that Slytherin had a locket, and we're sure that he would have used that, since he is, after all, Slytherin's heir.

"The Dark Lord was very concerned about something called the Deathly Hallows, which were hinted at in The Tales of Beedle the Bard. One of the stories, titled The Tale of the Three Brothers, speaks about how the brothers cheated Death using their magic, so, in 'reward' for their ingenuity, they were granted boons. One brother chose an unbeatable wand, one brother chose a ring to bring back the dead, and one chose an invisibility cloak that not even Death can see through. Supposedly ownership of the wand, the ring, and the cloak would grant the holder mastery over Death."

"So you think that He Who Must Not Be Named used one of these hallows as a horcrux?"

"Indeed," she replied with a small smile. "We were able to get a look at his family tree, and traced it back to the Peverells. We then looked at the Peverell family tree. There was Antioch, Cadmus, and Ignotus. We saw that Cadmus was the Dark Lord's great many times over grandfather, and we also saw that Ignotus was Harry's great many times over grandfather. Through marriage, we all are interrelated with the Peverells, but the Dark Lord and Harry have a more solid connection. Since Cadmus was given the ring of resurrection, it is logical to assume that this is what was used as a horcrux."

"Why did we not see this level of intelligence at school, Cissa?" Sirius asked, impressed. Narcissa blushed and coughed, relaxing further at the complete acceptance she was receiving from her cousin.

"So, we have the location of at least one horcrux," she said, ignoring the compliment in favor of continuing the conversation. "The Grey Lady believes that the diadem is hidden inside the castle somewhere. She told me that she'd seen the Dark Lord return to the school at least twice, and had mentioned to her that he would 'bring the diadem home where it belongs'. So it may be in a hidden alcove or a secret passage."

"You know, when James, Peter, Remus and I were exploring the castle, we stumbled upon a room that could be anything you needed it to be. Once it was a sturdy room in which Remus could hide, to protect the others from his 'furry little problem'. We were restricted to the castle, and had tracking charms placed on us for what I did to Snape in fifth year, so we couldn't get to the Shrieking Shack like we usually did.

"I also remember it turning into a huge vault-like room, full of a whole bunch of different things. I was looking to hide Snape's potions book; he had been writing cheats into it for potions, and I didn't think it was fair, so I hid it. Didn't change the scores he always got in that class, so I guess he didn't really need the book after all."

"Do you know where this room is?" Narcissa asked with a grin. "I think we should check it, to see if we can find the diadem there."

"It's up on the seventh floor, past the headmaster's office and Gryffindor tower. It's across from that ugly picture of some wizard teaching trolls to dance. All you have to do is pace in front of it three times, thinking of what you really need, and it will appear."

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Lucius, himself, took care of the diadem and the cup. Narcissa used some hairs from Bella's brush and polyjuiced herself to be her sister. She then went to Gringotts and retrieved the item from Lestrange's vault. Both the cup and the diadem were burned at the same time, Lucius expressing how much lighter he felt as each horcrux was destroyed.

The locket and the ring both proved to be a bit more difficult. Before the cup was destroyed, Narcissa used a scrying spell to locate the other two cursed objects, using her magic to draw some of the darkness from the cup to power her spell. One was located in a muggle village called Little Hangleton, and the other was located in one of the Black family's ancestral homes in London.

Armed with this information, Severus and Lucius went to the little village first, using all of their magic to combat the plethora of nasty curses and protections in order to retrieve the ring. They had found it in a rundown shack on the outskirts of the village. There was a dead snake nailed to the door, but it came alive as soon as Severus reached for the door handle, lunging to bite his hand. Screaming out a curse, the snake was fried and Severus quickly swallowed the antivenin he always carried with him. He explored some rather dense forests and jungles for potions ingredients and armed himself against the local creatures, so he carried the antidote with him out of habit.

The locket was found in a curio cabinet within the house at Grimmauld Place. Narcissa was the only one to get past the wards, and she lifted the locket from the cabinet just as an old, nasty house elf popped into view. "What is you being doing with master Regulus' locket?" it snarled angrily and lunged for the woman's legs. She repelled it with a spell and quickly knelt, using her magic to keep the angry elf at bay.

"I am Narcissa Black-Malfoy, and I am here to retrieve this locket to destroy it," she told it, hoping that she was getting through to it.

"I is being Kreacher, and I is being here for a long time, trying to being destroying master Regulus' locket like master Regulus is being asking Kreacher to do."

"Do you not have anyone else to serve?" she asked gently.

"No," the elf replied sadly. "Mistress Black is being dead, and Kreacher is being here all alone."

"Why don't you come home with me," she told the elf with a smile. "We'll bond you to the Malfoy family, and we'll let you help us destroy this locket."

Chapter 2

With the locket and the ring destroyed, all in Malfoy Manor were jubilant. Though the weight of the monster's sick magic had lifted for the most part, there was still some lingering feeling of disease. It was as Padfoot was playing with little Harry that he discovered the source of the feelings. He had sneezed violently every time he approached his godson, and it was with a nauseated feeling in his stomach that he realized that the monster had infected the infant with his blighted soul.

"It's in the curse scar," Sirius told Remus one afternoon. "We have to completely destroy Harry to destroy the horcrux." The werewolf shook his head frantically in the negative, unwilling to hear any more.

"Not necessarily," Severus said from the doorway, startling the pair from their staring contest. Sirius had begged the other man for forgiveness in his treatment of the Slytherin during school, and it was with a wary eye toward the man that the Potions Master had accepted. Severus was anxious to rid himself of the Dark Lord's taint, and was willing to bury the hatchet so that he and Black could achieve the goal of killing off the Dark Lord once and for all.

He strode into the parlor and swung the toddler up into the air, smiling as the child squealed excitedly. "Unka Sevwus, Unka Sevwus," the boy chirped loudly, a wide grin on his face.

"Hello, Harry," the Potions Master murmured as he hugged the little boy close. He turned to Sirius with a pensive look on his face. "We can destroy the last horcrux by killing Harry."

"NO!" Lupin shrieked as he surged to his feet. He made to take the child from the other man's arms, but Harry was having none of it. The shout had startled him badly, and he instantly wrapped his arms around the dour man's neck and buried his face in the long black hair. Severus wrapped his arms around the trembling boy and soothed him as he glared at the werewolf.

"He will not stay dead," the Potions Master snapped quietly. "If we render him clinically dead for three minutes, that will kill the horcrux within him, thus freeing everyone of the specter of the Dark Lord. I will be right there to give him the tonic to revive him. Trust me; I will not let anything happen to this precious little boy."

"Are you sure he won't be damaged by being dead for three minutes?" Sirius asked calmly, hand on Lupin's arm to restrain him.

"All of my research tells me that he can survive up to ten minutes without oxygen, with minimal brain damage. He will only be dead long enough to destroy the soul piece, then he will be revived. You have nothing to fear; I will let nothing harm a hair on his head."

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Severus had the boy sip a potion, then laid him down in his cot. Everyone had gathered around the bed to watch for any signs of distress or trouble. Lucius had cast a spell to allow everyone to hear the child's heartbeat, and they all waited breathlessly for the steady thump-thump to slow, then stop. Instantly Narcissa cast a tempus charm, to help them count down the seconds until they could revive Harry.

As they watched, a thin rivulet of blood started to seep from the scar as it pulsed like a living heartbeat. Faintly, they could hear the squealing scream, as if something living were trying to escape the flesh prison in which it was captured. After many long seconds, the struggle finally ceased, and what appeared to be a tiny drift of black mist floated away to dissipate into the ether. They waited a few more moments before Severus dosed the child with the antidote. Breaths held, they watched as Harry lay there, motionless, before a great whooping gasp erupted from the child. He started to scream in terror as Narcissa scooped him up from the bed and cuddled him close, soothing his fright as only a mother could.

The scar was gone; Severus had used essence of murtlap to make the mark fade away. With his forehead blemish free, the child was finally protected from any manipulations that the headmaster had planned for him. Without the taint of Voldemort, Harry seemed happier; freer as he played with Draco, Padfoot, Moony and the Potions Master. He had real family, and showered them every day with love. Sirius and Remus planned to tell Harry all about his parents when he was older; for now, they satisfied themselves with telling the toddler that his parents were very brave, and had died protecting him from a very bad man.

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"Did you know my mummy and daddy, uncle Sev'rus?" Harry asked the Potions Master when he was five. It was late summer, and everyone was in the yard, laughing and playing. Severus had perched himself on a stool underneath a willow tree, one eye on the potions book he was reading, the other on the children as they romped and ran.

"I did, Harry," the dour man replied, marking his place in the book before closing it.

"Can you tell me about them?" the raven inquired plaintively.

"I think it best that you ask your godfather to tell you," Snape replied softly. "I may not be the best person to tell you about them."

"I asked uncle Padfoot, and he told me that they died protecting me. He wouldn't tell me anything else."

Severus transfigured a leaf into another, shorter stool, and bade the child to sit. "Your mother, Lily, was the best friend I'd ever had," he began slowly, ebon eyes distant as he watched his memories. "We had met when we were children. She lived in Cokeworth, and I in Spinner's End; the derelict slums on the outskirts of Cokeworth. I saw her playing in a nearby park with her sister one day, and thought she was singularly beautiful.

"I saw her doing accidental magic, and I introduced myself to her and told her that she was a witch. At first, she was insulted; her despicable sister had told her that magic wasn't real, and that anyone who practices it was an abomination, according to their religion. After a while, she believed me and understood that it wasn't an abomination, but a gift. We spent a lot of time together during the summers, and when she wasn't in muggle primary school. I was home-schooled by my mother because my father always left bruises on me, and she was afraid that the authorities would be notified and that Tobias Snape would react violently if cornered.

"When she got her Hogwarts letter, she was so excited. I showed her mine, and we talked for hours about what it would be like. We met up on the train, and ran into your father and his friend, Sirius Black. That first interaction was rather ugly, and it marked the pattern of our interactions from then on. Your mother was the sweetest, kindest, most giving person I'd ever met, and while we were friends, she made me feel that I was worthy and deserving of kindness and affection.

"Your father, however, was an arrogant, entitled bully, who spent a lot of time picking on other Slytherins and me. He was handsome, and smart, and I knew I'd never be able to compete. He was very skilled at the game of quidditch, and he was a natural leader. He commanded respect from a great many people without putting in any effort to obtain it.

"Don't get me wrong; I loathed your father with every fiber of my being. Part of it was jealousy; that he was able to have and to do what I could not. Part of it was his arrogance; that he thought he could do no wrong, and ran the school like his own little club. We ended up with the worthy and the unworthy. Anyone who kowtowed to your father and his bullying ways was worthy; anyone who tried to fight against his arrogance was unworthy.

"Eventually, Lily and I drifted apart. Your father had pulled a particularly humiliating and heinous prank on me, and she came up to me, offering to help. I was so embarrassed that I lashed out at her in anger, calling her a mudblood. That effectively ended our friendship, especially when she called me Snivellus, and told me to 'wash my pants', making my humiliation complete.

"So, because I lost my best friend to my worst rival, I turned to the Dark Lord, who willingly took me in as one of his followers, and I didn't look back until I had made the mistake that cost your parents their lives. I was the one to tell the Dark Lord of the prophecy. In my defense, I did not think it referred to you. There was another boy, born the thirtieth of July, that could have fit the parameters of the bit of prophecy I had overheard, and since the Dark Lord supported pureblood supremacy, I thought he'd go after that boy.

"I never intended for my sins to cost Lily her life, nor did I wish to see you orphaned, Harry. I was so angry and bitter at how things had turned out that I didn't see the forest for the trees. I am grateful to Black for approaching me and apologizing for his role in my humiliation in school, but no amount of apology will ever make up for my role in your parents' deaths."

"Severus," Sirius said softly, startling the man out of his memories. "We didn't want to burden Harry with that information so young, when he wouldn't really understand most of it."

"I know," the Potions Master replied. Harry climbed onto Snape's lap, knocking the potions book aside. Severus wrapped his arms around the five year old boy and buried his nose in the child's hair, inhaling his fragrance deeply to soothe his scattered nerves. "I just needed to explain things; to purge my soul of that sickness so that I could be a better mentor and guardian for him. I know that Albus will try to use my love for my best friend against me, so I needed to let go of the guilt and shame I've carried around for these last few years."

"You didn't kill my parents," came a soft voice from the vicinity of Severus' chest. "That bad man did. He picked my parents to kill, not you. You paid him back by killing him forever."

"Your godson is smarter than for which you give him credit," Severus told the animagus with a wry grin. "I wouldn't be surprised if he actually surpassed Lily, and became the brightest wizard of his age."

Chapter 3

"I need to find out where Harry is before he comes to school," the headmaster mumbled churlishly as he stared at the paperwork on his desk. School matters had been put on the back burner in favor of gathering intel to find the Boy Who Lived. So far, his leads and informants had given him very little to go on. However, he still intended to continue the hunt on into the school year. Matters dealing with the running of Hogwarts would be pawned off on McGonagall, as Albus knew the woman would run things the way that he saw fit.

The Book of Names still had the boy listed as attending in 1991, but Albus couldn't wait that long to see if the child had been altered in any way. He suspected that Voldemort had made at least one horcrux, but also believed that the man had made more. Riddle was so afraid of death that it wouldn't surprise Dumbledore in the least if the boy had made several. Tom was steeped deeply in Dark magic and rituals, and would have chosen a number that was magically powerful.

Three would have been too few; the potential of losing all of them before he could resurrect himself would have been too great for his paranoid mind. Nine would have been far too many, leaving him with barely any soul left. Without his soul, the man would quickly degenerate into madness, and his body would weaken and expire. Additionally, stretching the soul that thin would have resulted in minuscule parts that would not have supported his resurrection. Albus believed that the man was intent on making seven. The old man didn't know exactly how many Tom had before he was vanquished, but he believed that Voldemort had been close to his ideal number.

Albus suspected that Harry had been made a horcrux, based on the amounts and types of Dark magic that were still present in the baby's room. As well as the unforgivable and other Dark spells used in the skirmish, Dumbledore had felt black ritual magic, which could only mean that Voldemort was intent on using the Potters' deaths to create another soul container. He'd scoured the room, looking for whatever bit of foreign material was there to be used as the receptacle, but found nothing. The completion of the ritual was obvious; therefore, logically, the soul piece fled into the only living being in that room...Harry Potter. Though it could have reasonably embedded itself in the corpse of Lily Potter, only Harry seemed to be touched by two rituals, based only on his own speculation and hopes; one to protect the child in the attack and the other the spell to create the horcrux in the first place.

Albus had to find the boy, before someone else familiar with the blackest of magics discovered the horcrux and tried to remove it. The prophecy clearly stated that only Voldemort would be able to destroy the soul piece within Harry, so the headmaster was desperate to keep the status quo, so that the boy could become the martyr the wizarding world needed to rally around. Into the breach, then, would come Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore to save the day and recreate the wizarding world in his own image.

"I must say, I regularly do feel nearly godlike," he murmured, oblivious to the headmaster and headmistress portraits behind him. They gasped and murmured in shock, stunned at the nearly Machiavellian behavior of someone that most of them thought to be kind and benevolent. Phineas Nigellus Black stared at the back of the old man's head, waiting for the time when the boy would finally come to school. Before that, however, he would try and contact his only living male relative, in hopes of being able to 'teach' the child all he needed to know about the headmaster and the upcoming conflict. He had such tales to impart to the boy.

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"Grandson," came a voice from the great family room. Within its walls were portraits of all of the Black ancestors, including Sirius' dreaded mother. So, because of that, the animagus avoided the room like the plague, not wishing to listen to the old battleaxe denigrate him for being a 'disappointment' and not upholding the family values to follow whatever megalomaniacal despot happened to have the best sounding plan for the purebloods. He heard the voice as he was passing the doorway, and for a moment he hesitated, not sure he wanted to enter the room and face the dressing down he was most likely going to receive.

"Might as well," Black mumbled to himself as he heard the voice call out to him again. Girding his loins, as it were, he slowly breached the doorway, looking left and right for the human banshee that was his matriarch. Not seeing her anywhere, he slowly approached the painting that had called out to him, scowling as he looked into the eyes of his great great grandfather. Phineas looked back at Sirius curiously, amused eyebrow quirked at the behavior of his last living male heir. "What do you want?" the animagus asked belligerently.

"I wish to speak with you," the portrait replied softly. "As you know, I was headmaster of Hogwarts for some time before I died. After my death, a portrait imbued with part of my spirit was painted and placed on the wall in the headmaster's office."

"I know," Sirius said with a scowl. "I was so proud to see that one of my relatives had made good for himself, until I found out that you'd tried to run the school as pureblood central. I know you didn't care for the kids or adolescents in the school, but you could have been nicer."

"I have no excuse for my behavior, grandson," the portrait responded a little sheepishly. "I was trained from an early age to treat people accordingly, based only on the purity of their blood. It took a few extremely powerful halfbloods and muggleborns to make me see that my upbringing was wrong, but that only occurred after my death." Another portrait further down snorted out a rather loud snore, startling the animagus badly for a moment. Seeing this, Phineas looked at his great great grandson sadly. "I had no control over how she treated you, Sirius," he said. He didn't have to specify; both men knew exactly about whom they were talking.

"I'd had quite a few long conversations with her whilst she was alive, but nothing I said could sway her from her twisted desire to serve a Dark Lord, and force you and Regulus into that role, as well. I am proud to see that you've made your own way in the world, without knuckling under to her heavy pressure. I'm just sad that Regulus discovered too late for himself what life he would have had if he'd continued to follow her path."

"Thanks, Granddad," the animagus husked out, unaccountably pleased that the portrait had given his unwavering approval of Sirius' choices. "Where is she, by the way? I would've heard her caterwauling by now."

"I exercised some of my limited power as former head of the Black family, and I banished her to the portrait in Grimmauld Place. I'd always hated that house for what she and the others had done to it, and I thought it a fitting punishment for causing the death, though indirectly, of one of my heirs. She is stuck in that place, permanently. What you choose to do with the house now is completely up to you as reigning Lord of the family."

"Thank you again, granddad," Sirius told the portrait with a wide grin. "Now, about what did you wish to speak to me?"

"Since I am in the headmaster's office more often than not, I am privy to quite a few of the old man's secrets," Black stated matter-of-factly. "I know that he portrays himself as 'beacon of the Light', but that is far from the truth. He has plans in the works for your godson, and I fear that he won't survive the fallout if Albus has his way."

"What do you mean?" Sirius barked harshly. "What plans?"

"He plans to sacrifice your godson in order to save the wizarding world from the Dark Lord when he rises again." Sirius let out a malevolent chuckle, grey eyes gleaming maliciously.

"He doesn't have a snowball's chance in Hell of succeeding," the animagus said, smirking proudly. "We already know of Riddle's horcruxes, and have destroyed them all. That lunatic is never coming back."

"Even the one that resided within the little one?" Phineas asked incredulously. At the firm nod, the painting began to laugh, his voice deep and booming and attracting the attentions of the other occupants of the manor. "That's simply priceless," he gasped as others began to filter into the room. "According to a prophecy he'd received, the only person able to 'vanquish' the Dark Lord is your godson, and he's only able to do that if he allows Riddle to kill him, thereby killing the horcrux that had resided within him."

"Well, Harry already 'vanquished' the Dark Lord on that Hallowe'en night," Severus chimed in. He gave a respectful nod to Phineas before continuing. "It's because of the protections provided by Lily Potter that Harry was able to survive the encounter and destroy Voldemort, even if it was only temporary."

"What about the part that says 'either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives'? That sounds pretty cut and dried to me," Black chimed in after Severus was finished speaking.

"Trelawney is a hack," Severus told the man harshly. "I was there, in the Hog's Head when she went for her 'meeting'. She staggered into the bar, proclaiming loudly and drunkenly that she had an interview with the great Albus Dumbledore. She then started bragging about her great great grandmother's prowess as a Seer, and proclaimed herself to be cut from the same cloth.

"I thought I was well hidden as I spied for the Dark Lord, but apparently Albus knew I was there anyway. He must have cast the imperius on me, making me follow them up to their room so that I could 'eavesdrop', and take the prophecy back to Voldemort. Unfortunately, Aberforth interfered and sent me away before I could hear the rest of it. If I had known that the Dark Lord would take after Lily and her family, I would've kept my mouth shut."

"You can't blame yourself, Sev," Sirius told the Potions Master, wrapping a comforting arm around the other man's shoulders. "From what I know of Voldemort, had you not told him of the prophecy, you would have died. You were still very young, fresh out of Hogwarts, and still very angry at the way things were left between you and Lily. My culpability in that severing of your friendship will haunt me for a long time, and I will do what I can to make up for torturing you so viciously while we were in school."

"Be that as it may," Phineas steered the conversation back around to the original topic, "Albus has quite a few plans in the works to try and 'test' his weapon. He intends to set 'adventures' for the boy, in which to participate, to see if he's brave enough and heroic enough to become the old man's puppet martyr. Fortunately, you've thrown a rather large spanner in the works, but I don't think that will slow him down any. He has the ear of the entire wizarding world because of his own 'heroics', and they would follow him through hell itself if it meant that they were protected, and that someone else was doing their thinking for them."

"What do you propose then, Phineas?" Lucius asked softly, his own grey eyes worried.

"I will continue to spy on the headmaster, and any news worth imparting I will bring straight to you," the portrait replied with a wide, malicious smile. "I will also regale the young man with every bit of scandal and inappropriate behavior I can, so that he is well informed when he finally attends Hogwarts. He must have as much blackmail material as possible when he arrives, so that the old man can't manipulate the child into doing his bidding."

"That manipulative bastard won't know what hit him," Remus hissed happily, rubbing his hands together. "I think we need to get a couple of others into the school, to offer more protection for Harry."

"I will go to the Ministry and suggest that Remus Lupin be put in as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and I'll put a bug in the Minister's ear about exorcising Binns, and allowing my great great grandson to be the new History of Magic professor," Black told everyone with a wide, happy smile. "I am so looking forward to the time Harry gets to school. I've always hated that man for his hypocrisy, and it'll be a pure joy to watch a child completely decimate his reputation."

Chapter 4

“Now,” Phineas began as everyone took seats around the portrait. Other ancestor portraits in the hall were watching closely; many of them had dealt with Dumbledore or iterations of him in their lifetimes, and were eager to set aside blood differences for the opportunity to cripple the Light. “You will need to understand that Albus has a specific set of plans in his head, and from watching him lo these many years, I’ve come to realize that, once that man has a bumblebee in his bonnet, he’s not likely to let it go.

“He has designed a set of ‘tests’ for your godson, Sirius.” Before the animagus could open his mouth to, perhaps, bellow about the unfairness of it all, Black held up his hand, calling for silence. The others, who had shifted around, ready to add their own outrage, settled, some with mulish expressions on their faces. Lucius, Narcissa, and Severus, being the consummate Slytherins they were, settled for stony, blank masks. “Right now, they’re on paper. Until the little one is slated to attend Hogwarts, all he’s doing at present is plotting. I’ve only seen bare sketches and hastily written notes so far, but when I have something more concrete, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks again, Granddad,” Sirius murmured with a small smile. “I know that I can’t give you any parental rights, since you’re a painting, but maybe I can invoke the protective magics of the Black legacy, and have you as Harry’s paladin in the castle. I intend to adopt him at the end of the week, and will be naming the Malfoys and Severus as his godparents. Remus will be his other parent, because we’re bonding tomorrow. Will you accept my request?”

“I would be honored to take up the mantle of Harry’s protector in the school. With the rite invoked, that will give me the ability to exit my painting any time the boy is in trouble. I couldn’t ask for a greater blessing, and am humbled by your trust in me. Now, to continue, once Harry is adopted, and with the Black surname, Albus won’t have any standing in interfering with the lad’s life anymore. Oh, I’m sure he’ll try, but once the adoption is complete, and with the proof that you will provide to the Ministry about the monster’s destruction, the headmaster will have not a single leg on which to stand.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you, Sirius Orion Black, take this man into your heart and soul, to share mind and body with him no matter the cost to you? Do you swear to take care of him when he cannot take care of himself, and protect him, even from himself if necessary? Do you swear to honor the sanctity of your bonding, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Sirius husked as he slid the bonding cuff onto Remus’ left wrist. The werewolf smiled mistily at the animagus, tears shimmering in his golden eyes.

“Do you, Remus John Lupin, take this man into your heart and soul, to share mind and body with him no matter the cost to you? Do you swear to take care of him when he cannot take care of himself, and protect him, even from himself if necessary? Do you swear to honor the sanctity of your bonding, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Remus growled lowly, sliding the bonding cuff on Sirius' left wrist with a banked fire glowing within the depths of his eyes. He felt the magic of the bonding ritual take hold and shivered in reaction to it. Both men shuddered when a shower of silver magic washed over them, blessing their union and making them one in mind, heart, body and soul. They turned to the small gathering of family that they’d grown since taking Harry from Godric’s Hollow, smiling widely.

“I now present Sirius Lupin-Black, and Remus Black-Lupin,” the officiant said. “May Magick guide their destinies.”

“So mote it be,” everyone murmured, before as one they surged forward to congratulate the couple.

“Uncle Padfoot? Uncle Moony? Don’t you love me anymore?” came a plaintive voice from the vicinity of the pair’s knees, and Sirius was instantly at eye level with the five year old, wrapping him in a tight hug as he murmured reassurances in the toddler’s ear.

“I love you more than life itself, Harry,” Sirius told the boy. “Remus does, too. That’s why we’re going to Gringotts on Saturday; so that we can adopt you and make you our son.”

“Really?” the emerald eyed child asked excitedly.

“Really,” Remus answered as he knelt down, looking into the little boy’s face with love in his eyes. “When we’re done, you’ll be Harry James Lupin-Black. No one will ever be able to take you away from us then. I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We wish to see the goblin that oversees blood adoptions, please,” Sirius murmured to the teller behind the desk. The grizzled being grunted but didn’t bother to look up from the parchment, where lines of numbers ran from top to bottom.

“Now,” Remus growled, letting a little amber bleed into his kind brown eyes. The goblin looked up angrily, about to shred the impertinent human about exactly who had the control in this situation, but silenced himself with a loud swallow. He could practically smell the power of the lycanthrope before him, and quickly gestured to Griphook.

“Take these humans to see Shadeshifter,” he nearly barked, anxious to remove the humans from in front of him. With alacrity, Griphook guided the trio to Shadeshifter’s door, leaning in to explain things before opening the door wider to allow the humans entrance. The ancient looking she-goblin sitting behind the desk caused Sirius to raise his eyebrows, shocked to see a female goblin anywhere in the bank.

“How may I help you gentlemen?” she asked softly, watching the trio cautiously as they approached her desk. They stood, waiting for the invitation to sit, and her estimation of them rose slightly at the respect shown to her. She gestured to them, and they sat, Harry curled up on Sirius’ lap and watching Shadeshifter with curiosity.

“We’re here to ask for the special adoption ritual that you provide, which will ensure that Harry be completely safe within the magics of both the Black family and the Lupin family. I am his godfather, named thusly by his parents, James and Lily Potter, and I wish to strengthen the relationship so that I may be able to protect him with all of the Black family magics at my disposal.”

“Blood must be spilled for this ritual, you understand,” the she-goblin said, watching both men with narrowed eyes. “You must contribute, as must your bonded mate and the child. Should there be any hesitance or doubt, from any of you, the ritual will kill the child. Are you sure you wish to invoke the ancient adoption rite you requested?”

“I need to ask, if we invoke this ritual, will I infect Harry with my lycanthropy?” Remus asked anxiously. The gobliness pondered the question for a moment before answering.

“Some of your werewolf traits will become a part of your adopted son,” she finally replied. “He will have the enhanced senses, and his magical core will enlarge to allow the additional creature magic to meld with it, but he will not have the other, less desirable aspects of your condition. He will not shift into a werewolf at the full of the moon, nor will he be able to infect others.

“The benefit to you is that you will become one with the wolf within you. This will give you the ability to completely control the change. You will no longer lose your human mind whilst in werewolf form, and you will no longer have need to take the wolfsbane. In fact, the potion would become poison to you, since you’ll be melded with the creature. The magic and blood of the child will cleanse you of the Dark taint, created by the manner in which you were turned. Now, are you sure?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The adoption was a complete success. Once the ritual had taken hold, the scar on Harry’s forehead disappeared completely and the last lingering trace of Voldemort was no more. The dittany and murtlap did what they could, but the scar was too deep to vanish entirely until now. Remus could actually feel Harry’s blood and magic, coursing through his body and scrubbing away all remnants of Fenrir Greyback’s diseased infection. Left behind was a man who had accepted and welcomed the creature within, granting him a freedom he hadn’t felt since before he was turned, when he was an innocent child with the world before him.

Harry had gone through some changes himself. His eyes had gone from piercing emerald to a golden hazel, with flecks of grey. Gone were the distinctive Potter features; his black hair had grown longer, curling and waving instead of standing up and sticking out. The shape of his eyes reflected the Black ancestry that was already in his family, and his features more strongly resembled Sirius. It was an experience for the child to exercise his heightened senses; for days after the ritual he wandered the lawns of the manor, sniffing at the air and taking in the fragrances of hundreds of different plants and animals. The air was redolent with the scents of nature, and more often than not, Harry would return to the family room with a blissful expression on his face.

“What’s up, pup?” Sirius asked one day shortly after Harry had come in for lunch. “You look incredibly peaceful for a change.”

“I am, Dad,” the child replied softly. “I never knew that there were so many scents in the world. I can’t wait to go out in public, to smell the air there.”

“Careful what you wish for,” Remus warned with a fond smile for his son. “You might not like what you discover.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The group, consisting of the Malfoys, Severus, Draco, Remus, Sirius and Harry, meandered down Diagon Alley. Harry was ecstatic at first; the different odors of spices and potions ingredients, mixed with the smell of musty old pages and ink, tickled the boy’s senses to no end. It was as they passed a group of wizards that Harry started to cough harshly, eyes watering desperately as he fought to catch his breath. The adults quickly hustled the children into Florean Fortescue’s ice cream parlor, to allow Harry to gather his wits. Eventually the coughing fit subsided, and the Black heir inhaled the sweet scents of ice cream, whipped cream, fruit and candy.

While the rest of the group sat in a secluded booth, Sirius and Remus went up to the counter to order the ice creams, levitating them back to their table when they were ready. Everyone dug in, and it was a few moments of silence before it was broken by Draco. “What happened, Harry?” he asked softly. “I thought you’d float away there for a while, as high as you were getting off of the smells. What changed?”

“I don’t know,” the boy replied, confused. “I was fine, enjoying the scents that were assailing my senses, when something dark and malignant hit my nose. It was all I could do to breathe, it was so nasty. It seemed to come from that group of men we passed. It was awful.”

“There’s a useful skill,” Lucius chimed in after a few moments of silence. All eyes turned to the blond, and he smiled softly. “Apparently Harry can smell Dark magic. That group of men we passed are part of the ‘old crowd’ Severus and I used to visit. They’re steeped in the darkest of arts, and are, no doubt, slightly mad from the addiction to the magic. That’s a skill that will come in very handy.”

“Why doesn’t he react to you, Lucius?” Sirius asked. “Or even you, Sev?”

“Perhaps it’s because we helped to end the monster, and in the process ended his magic,” Narcissa posited. “Once all of the horcruxes were destroyed, the Dark Mark had disappeared from both Severus’ and Lucius’ arms. It stands to reason that his Dark taint had also left. After all, there is a difference between Dark Arts and Dark magic. You could practice one without becoming tainted by the other.”

“Makes as good a sense as anything else dealing with magic,” Remus added thoughtfully.

“Works for me,” Sirius said with a grin. “I’m just glad to know that we won’t have to banish you lot from our little family.” Nods all around the table agreed with this assessment; none of them wanted to give up the happiness and peace they’d found with each other, and they’d fight tooth and nail to protect it, whatever the cost.

Chapter 5

“We’re off to get our things settled in our classrooms and our private quarters,” Remus told everyone as he and Sirius headed to the floo. The bonding ceremony was a few months ago, as was the adoption, but Harry still felt the need to be near his parents. It was now mid June, and Hogwarts was set to end for the summer, giving the pair the unhindered access they needed to get settled for the next school term.

“I don’t want you to go,” the child said plaintively as he wrapped his arms around Sirius’ legs and burrowed his face into the man’s knees. “I want to go with you.”

“Now, Harry,” Remus began as he knelt to pry the little boy away from his mate’s legs, “we can’t take you right now. It’s not safe and...”

“It’s actually not a bad idea,” Severus chimed in before Remus could finish his sentence. “Doing so now will let the headmaster know that Harry is safe, and that he is now untouchable. Verification that his fears were groundless is what Albus needs right now, as is the fact that Harry is no longer the Boy Who Lived. We need to start putting the old man’s agenda out there under public scrutiny, especially when we provide concrete evidence that the monster will never return. This first move will start the erosion of the underpinnings holding Dumbledore on that pedestal that he’d been placed upon so many years ago.”

“Severus has a point,” Narcissa was quick to agree. “After all, the faster we can get him unbalanced and discombobulated, the easier it will be for Harry when he finally attends school.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Sirius murmured thoughtfully. “It’ll also give us the excuse to take him with us every now and then. Hopefully we can get him socialized well enough before he starts school.”

They flooed straight into Severus’ quarters, and the dour man smiled down at the toddler as he began the guided tour of his domain. “You will be spending some time here with me as well,” the man told the little boy, who bounced and clapped, squealing happily at the prospect of spending even more time with his uncle Sev. “In this room, you and Draco will be tutored once a week in potions,” the Potions Master continued softly, crouching to be at eye level with the tot. “I want you to be able to dazzle your fellow students with your brilliance, so I intend to make sure that you succeed in every class.”

“Thank you, uncle Sev,” the child said as he wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and squeezed tightly. Severus returned the hug with equal gusto before releasing the child and standing. He accompanied the trio as they made their way up to the first floor and the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. They stepped in so that Remus could drop off his syllabi and extra course books before they went to the back of the classroom, where the private quarters were located. Though both men intended to spend as much time with their son as they could, they also knew that they had to stay within Hogwarts during the week, to ensure that any student that had need could find them for help.

It was agreed that all three professors would floo back to Malfoy Manor at the end of the week during the school year so that they could spend time with both Harry and Draco all weekend. There would be a variety of trips and excursions planned for their time off, in between grading homework and writing up tests and quizzes for their students. Once Remus was settled as much as he was able, the quartet left the classroom and headed for the History of Magic classroom, which was located a short distance down the hall from the DADA classroom. Sirius darted in to drop off his satchel, which he would take care of emptying after Harry went home, and darted back out the door, smiling at his son as he scooped the boy up in his arms.

They headed for the moving staircase, so that Remus could get his office in order, and encountered Dumbledore as he descended to greet the students for lunch. Blue eyes widened comically behind half-moon spectacles, and the man beamed widely as he made a beeline for the group. Heaving a put-upon sigh, Remus stood in front of Sirius, so that the headmaster was prevented from reaching for the little boy. “Harry, my boy!” the old man boomed happily. “Am I ever glad to see you. You gave this old man such a fright, disappearing like that. Now that you’ve been returned, I must take you to your mother’s sister and her family, so that you will be protected.” He reached for the toddler, nudging Lupin out of the way as he did. Or, at least he tried to move the werewolf. With a low growl and his eyes bleeding to amber, Dumbledore realized the threat present before him and took a hasty step back.

“Remus?” he asked querulously. “What is it, my boy?”

“First off, I am not your boy,” the lycan snarled, teeth bared. Albus ascended the stairs behind him, putting a bit of distance between himself and the furious man. “Secondly, you are to never approach or touch Harry. Sirius and I have been bonded, and we blood-adopted him. He is now our son, and you have no authority over him.”

“Blood adoption, you say?” the old man asked, disappointment coloring his voice. “Do you realize that you’ve put your son in grave danger? What of your lycanthropy? You’ve now infected him with the same infirmity that you have, which gives me leave to sever those ties for the safety and well-being of Harry.” Albus drew himself up and pulled his wand from his robe pocket. “I am afraid that I must take custody of the boy right away, and see what I may do to cleanse the child’s blood of your sickness.” He pointed his wand at Remus, a Dark incantation on his lips.

Before anyone could do anything, a loud shriek erupted. “NO!” Harry screamed, struggling to get out of his dad’s arms. Sirius staggered under the shifting weight and hastily put the child down. He tried to maintain control over Harry, but the little boy was having none of it. He darted in front of his father, a snarl that should never be seen on a child’s face contorting it in fury. Before another word was spoken, the headmaster was driven back, and he stumbled on the stairs, falling to his bum as he tripped over a stair riser. A glowing ball surrounded the child, his parents, and his uncle Sev, shimmering with rainbow hues as the quartet stood within it.

The adults were stunned at the sheer magnitude of magic the five year old used, seemingly unconsciously, to protect them, and they relaxed their stances, smirking at the now pale old man. “Seems Harry doesn’t approve,” Severus said with malicious glee. “It appears that you will have a very hard time trying to wrest the child from his parents, Albus. Judging by the sheer amount of power on display, just for their protection, I would suggest you not test Harry too severely. I couldn’t even guess at the consequences that would befall you should you really make him angry.” He knelt and lifted his godson into his arms, cuddling the trembling body close and murmuring reassurances as the family continued up the stairs. The glowing bubble that surrounded them moved with them, flexing and expanding as necessary to ensure that no one else could get close to the family unit.

Albus lay on the stairs, trying to catch his breath, his thoughts tumbling through his head. That child has unimaginable power, if he’s able to accomplish such complex magic at this young an age. I must gain control of him if I am to achieve my goals of ridding the wizarding world of evil. He is surely the child of prophecy, and the final battle between Voldemort and he will be epic.

They finally reached the DADA office on the second floor, and closed the door softly behind them. Once they were behind a sturdy barrier, the bubble broke with a gentle pop, releasing them from its loving prison. “How did you do that, Harry?” Severus asked as he sat at the professor’s desk, moving back far enough to allow Remus to set up his supplies, texts, and assignments. The little tyke looked at his godfather from the comforting circle of the older man's arms with wide, guileless topaz eyes.

“Do what, uncle Sev’rus?” he queried quietly.

“How did you wrap all of us in that bubble of protection?” he clarified, watching the little boy closely for any sign of magical exhaustion.

“I don’t know,” Harry replied with a wrinkled brow. “I just know that I had to get down and protect my dad, so I stood in front of him. I could feel that bad old man’s magic getting stronger, and I just told myself that I had to protect my dad, my father, and my godfather. The bubble just popped up.”

“That has to be the most spectacular bit of accidental magic I’ve ever seen,” Sirius breathed proudly. “He did it so young, too.”

“It wasn’t necessarily accidental magic, Siri,” Remus corrected gently. “Because Harry felt the threat to us all, he wanted to protect us, and his magic responded. If anything, I’d call it wild magic.”

“I have never heard of someone so young able to wield wild magic with any sort of control,” Severus murmured thoughtfully, smiling down at the little head that had burrowed itself into his chest. The boy was suddenly tired from expending such a large amount of energy, and he slowly drifted to sleep as the others talked quietly. “It responded beautifully to the threat he’d felt. I wonder if, perhaps, the Dark Lord’s soul piece had been blocking his magical core from him.”

“It’s a possibility,” Sirius said as he looked at his son with proud eyes. “Though that bit of sludge wasn’t in him long enough to attach to his soul, it theoretically could have dampened access to his magical core.”

“I have no explanation for what he was able to do,” Lupin contributed to the conversation, smiling softly as he watched the Potions Master cuddle Harry closer. He stepped over to the man and began to card his fingers through his son’s hair as he carefully picked his way through the conversation. “I know that the High Elves were able to use wild magic at a young age, but I’ve not heard of human witches or wizards able to harness the magic to any degree. What he did today is unprecedented, and we will have to work doubly hard to ensure his magical education addresses all of the issues that will eventually crop up.”

“Agreed,” Severus said, eyes still on the tousled head on his chest. “We’ll get Lucius and Narcissa involved, as well. They have access to a great number of books about wild magic. Together we should be able to come up with a comprehensive lesson plan that will cover training in all the magic to which he has access.”

Chapter 6

“I’ve got to have him,” Albus murmured as he reflected on the sheer amount of power that the Savior had just displayed, and at five years old. “He’s the key to my eternal glory. If I can perfect that ritual, I should be able to siphon off all of his power over the seven years he’ll be attending. With that magic at my fingertips, I’ll be a god amongst men.” The old man continued to murmur under his breath, taking no notice whatsoever when Phineas Black disappeared from his painting and headed straight for Black Manor.

“Grandson!” he bellowed as soon as he arrived, disturbing the other portraits in the hall. “Grandson!” he bellowed again, using his limited family magics to set off the alarms in the mansion, alerting all who were living there that something urgent needed discussing. Sirius was the first to arrive, skidding past the doorway in his haste to reach his great great grandfather. Others quickly appeared as the animagus huffed his way up to Black’s portrait.

“What’s the urgency, Gramps?” Sirius asked worriedly, eyebrows skating his hairline at the panicked look in his great great grandsire’s eyes.

“I will wait until all arrive,” Phineas told his heir. “I do not wish to keep repeating myself.” Once everyone reached the portrait, Black began, causing quite a stir at his words. “Albus Dumbledore is intent on stealing your son’s magic. He was muttering about the unimaginable power the child possesses, and that his ‘siphoning it off over the seven years the child will attend the school’ will make him ‘akin to a god amongst men’. I do not know about what he speaks, so I would like you to tell me whether he’s delusional or not, and what I need to do to protect the little one.”

“Merlin,” Remus muttered in a shaky voice. “I didn’t think he’d go that far to achieve his goals.”

“What has the little one done to make the old man froth at the mouth in anticipation of his attending Hogwarts?” the former headmaster repeated his question.

“Albus was intent on taking Harry from us and turning him over to Petunia,” Sirius told his grandfather softly. “We told him that he had no say in Harry’s life, since Remus and I are now bonded and we blood adopted our son. When he heard that, he immediately said that he would dissolve the adoption and ‘cleanse Harry of Remus’ diseased blood’. We all felt the magic he was building, and it was dark. He was intent on terminating Remus’ life, but our little Prongslet squirmed out of my arms and ran in front of us. He screamed ‘no’ and a bubble of protection rose around all of us, pushing Albus to the floor with its power.

“Severus, of course, had to get a last dig in about Harry not liking the old man’s intentions toward his family, and we walked away, safe and secure in that beautiful, rainbow-hued prison of safety and love. It gently dispersed once we were behind closed doors. We discussed it, and came to a consensus that Harry had used wild magic to protect us.”

“We suspect the Dark Lord’s soul shard, which had been in Harry since that ugly night in October, had somehow dampened his magical core, which limited the child’s access to his magic,” Severus added with a frown. “The power he exhibited is unprecedented, and we’re in a bit of a quandary as to where to go from here.”

“I have a great many tomes in my library that cover wild magic, but because it’s so rare, there’s not much useful information in those books,” Lucius contributed, grey eyes glinting softly as he looked at the child about whom they were all talking.

“In my ancestral vault, you will find some books that go in depth on wild magic,” Phineas told his heir softly. “I agree; the level of power exhibited by him at this age surely indicates a tendency toward wild magic. As he gets older, he will need someone to ground him, so that he doesn’t lose control. There is a ritual that will connect someone with powerful magic to him, to help him bleed off the excess. The ritual will create a bond more powerful than that of lovers, so choose wisely. In all likelihood, he will end up taking this person as a permanent life mate. Be aware, however, that whomever you choose must have magic that is nearly perfectly compatible with his.”

“I have information on how to test that,” Narcissa said into the heavy silence. “We’ll start with the adults first, to see if there is someone amongst us that is both powerful enough to handle the wild magic, and compatible enough to share the burden.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ritual did, in fact, find the perfect bond mate to help Harry control his wild magic. Little Draco was over the moon at the thought of being permanently attached to his best friend. They were both way too young to understand the ramifications of the ritual bonding, and the adults charged with their care worried over the fallout, should either boy decide that the other wasn’t worthy enough for him. However, their worries were laid to rest as they watched the boys interact for several days after the ritual. Somehow, the connection strengthened Draco’s magic, and both boys had a great deal of fun refining their magical skills, limited as they were by age. The children were already attached at the hip; the ritual only strengthened their already close bond.

“Well,” Narcissa said one day as the boys were taking turns changing Sirius’ hair color and style, giggling the whole time, “I don’t see that there’s going to be any problem with their bonding. They act almost as if they’re twins with each complimenting the other’s magic and skill. Sometimes it’s almost as if they can read each other’s minds, they’re so in tune with each other.”

“That definitely is good news,” Sirius said gruffly as he scowled playfully at the boys. Harry had turned his dad’s hair a bright, glittery pink, whilst Draco had fashioned it into a unicorn’s horn. They were currently rolling on the floor with laughter bouncing off the walls. Severus, who had been standing in the doorway and watching the children’s antics, snorted softly.

“That is a surprisingly good look for you, Sirius,” he said with a blank face. Only the amusement glittering in deep ebon orbs gave away his true feelings. “I think you should wear it on your first day of classes. It should give the students something about which they could talk.”

“Not a bad idea, Severus,” the animagus replied with a smirk. Unbeknownst to the Potions Master, the boys had turned their focus on him, and had given him a rainbow-hued beehive hairdo. He never felt the magic, nor did he sense anything wrong. It was as Lucius came up behind the man that Severus finally realized something was amiss.

“What the hell, Severus?!” the elder Malfoy barked incredulously, voice trembling alarmingly with suppressed laughter. “Is there something about which you have need to speak to me?” Snape turned and looked at his best friend in confusion, causing the Malfoy lord to lose his tenuous grip on his hilarity. He laughed for all he was worth until he was doubled up with it, with no end in sight. Heaving a put-upon sigh, Severus conjured a hand mirror and stared, aghast, at the sight that met his stunned eyes.

He turned to the children, who hadn’t fully recovered from their laughing fit, and the look on his face combined with the hairdo had them undone once again. “You will change my hair back to normal at once!” he barked angrily. The fury in his voice halted all laughter as Harry looked contritely at his godfather. Draco stood behind his bond mate, hiding from his uncle’s wrath.

“I’m sorry, uncle Sev’rus,” the raven apologized softly, blowing out a quiet breath that released the spell on the Potions Master’s hair. “I didn’t mean to make you angry. We were just having some fun.”

“I’m sorry, Sev,” Draco parroted, his eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t know that you would get so angry.”

“It’s all right, children,” Snape huffed, feeling mountains of guilt for snapping at the children so harshly. “It just brought back some unpleasant memories for me.”

“That would be my fault,” Sirius told the boys shamefully. “We never talked about it, but in school, Harry, your birth father and I were really mean bullies, and Severus was our favorite target. Instead of hitting him, we would play meaner and meaner pranks on him. We didn’t know him very well, and his friendship with your mother was a bone of contention between us. It wasn’t that we hated him, per se; it was more that James had envied the friendship between Lily and Severus, and we were trying to prove that your godfather wasn’t worthy of that friendship. It’s only since your rescue, when he helped us get rid of the Dark Lord and saved your life for no other reason than that he wanted to, that I realize how wrong I was for my behavior.”

“You should ‘pologize to him, Father,” Harry barked angrily, his hurt feelings forgotten in his defense of his godfather. “Being mean for no good reason is just stupid.”

“Your son is wise, Black,” Severus intoned, gratified that the animagus had, in a roundabout way, apologized once again for the bullying that went on during their days in Hogwarts. He also didn’t hold back any of the truth, which raised his estimation in the dour man’s eyes. “And, he is correct. I must admit my own share of guilt in our interactions. I know that I had no business trying to ‘discover’ what secrets you lot had been hiding, and my persistence in being nosy only garnered more anger on your parts. I am sorry that I didn’t just leave well enough alone, and that my efforts to get you four into substantial trouble resulted in contentious feelings between all of us. I now realize that, had I acted more maturely, we may have developed a better regard for each other long before now.”

“It’s not like Lily didn’t try to get us to understand her friendship with you,” Black said softly. “I came from a strict Dark family, and my upbringing made me hate everyone who practiced the Dark Arts. Slytherins were the logical target for those feelings, and your attempts at interference only earned you the spotlight. I had no right to take out my feelings for my family on anyone, but especially not you. That last prank we pulled that cost you Lily’s friendship showed me how neglected you were.

“At the time, I didn’t really care. I thought you’d deserved whatever treatment, or lack of it, that you received from your parents. It’s only since I took custody of Harry that I realized that you and I are not so very different. My childhood affected my adulthood, as your childhood affected yours. Though the methods were different, we both grew up in abusive households. It’s no excuse for our behavior, but it does add a level of understanding to our actions.”

“Lily was a singularly beautiful, warm, loving woman, and to this day I regret calling her that foul epithet,” the Potions Master murmured with a catch in his voice. “I would have loved nothing more than to continue our friendship. That split drove me into a direction for which I will spend the rest of my days paying penance. If I can stay involved in her son’s life, perhaps I may achieve absolution.”

“I love you, uncle Sev’rus,” Harry said softly as he approached the older man. He held out his arms, begging for a cuddle, to which the Potions Master eagerly agreed. Wrapping the little boy in his arms, he squeezed tightly, snuffling a little as he buried his nose in the child’s hair. “I’m glad that you’re a part of my family,” the toddler mumbled into Severus’ hair as he laid his head on the man’s shoulder and burrowed his face into the other’s neck. “My mum would have been proud of you, and happy that you’re protecting me for her.”

“You’ll not want for anything, child,” Severus rasped, emotions clogging his throat. “On my magic, I swear that I will always be there when you need me, no matter the day or hour. It matters not if I am in the middle of a complicated potion; if you need me, I’ll come running.”

Chapter 7

Notes:

Changed the name of the new divination professor to reflect my habit of inserting pop culture nuggets into the stories.

“I’ve found the information on wild magick in one of the Potter tomes,” Sirius said as he sailed into the drawing room at Black Manor. He'd looked into the books that Phineas suggested, but could only find ways to take advantage of someone with wild magic, through rituals and compulsions, which wasn't what they needed to learn. Everyone else was there, tutoring the children in their studies. They were being taught how to write properly, how to read, basic maths, muggle and magical history and geography. Narcissa was proving to be an excellent teacher, and her gentle guidance had helped the children grow intellectually as well as emotionally. Lucius had let go of his preconceived notions, which had been beaten into him by his own father, and was willing to have a more open mind when it came to blood purity, or the lack thereof, so he had no problem with his heir learning about the muggle world.  After all, forewarned was forearmed.

Remus had taken over their magical studies, teaching them basic spells and curses, and was also teaching them defensive magic. It took all of the boys’ concentration not to blow up things or disintegrate things by overpowering their spells, and Harry was looking forward to the time that he would have control over the massive well of power that resided within his being. Draco’s own core was growing quickly with the magical exercise, and as his abilities grew stronger, the wild magick began to even itself out between the bond-mates.

Severus, of course, tutored them in potions as well as Dark Arts. While Remus taught them to defend themselves against Dark Arts, Severus taught them how to wield the magic in safe ways. He was loathe to allow his boys to be circulating in the same school as the megalomaniac who ran it without suitable protection. Sirius had put up token resistance, but he understood the wisdom of having the boys prepared for anything. So, along with the offensive magical training, the Potions Master also taught them how to brew the most insidious undetectable poisons, as well as a variety of healing draughts and sleeping draughts. He even taught them the rudimentary skills of brewing Draught of the Living Death and veritaserum, as well as the polyjuice potion. Once inside the castle’s walls, he would continue their education in the sixth and seventh year level elixirs.

“All right, boys,” Narcissa said with a gentle smile, “you’ve done very well. For tomorrow, I would like a two foot essay on how World War two in the muggle world affected things in our world. I would also like you to map out the magical ley lines that exist in the muggle world. I want their exact locations, the muggle populations surrounding them, and any cities, towns or settlements that sit directly on top of them.”

“Aw, Mother!” Draco protested feebly, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to weasel his way out of his homework.

“Yes, aunt Narcissa,” Harry said obediently, already making notes on a spare piece of parchment.

“Suck up,” the blond muttered as he elbowed his best friend a little roughly. A line scrawled across the parchment Harry was writing on, and the brunet frowned before flicking his fingers to erase the blemish before continuing his outline. Draco’s eyebrows fled into his hairline, always surprised at how easy wandless magic was becoming to his bond-mate. Malfoy had the concentration down pat; he still struggled a bit with the control, however.

“Everybody get settled,” Sirius said as he grinned at his two boys fondly. “It’s story time.”

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“So, to summarize, the blood adoption between Harry and Remus allowed the creature blood to influence and awaken the dormant wild magick received from his mother’s elven heritage,” Lucius deadpanned.

“Pretty much,” Remus replied with a wide smile, very happy that his blood didn’t actually damage his son in any way.

“Wouldn’t his wild magick have awakened anyway when he reached his magical maturity?” Narcissa queried softly.

“Perhaps,” Severus responded thoughtfully. “It depends on how strong the inheritance would have been. That could be the ‘power that he knows not’ to which the now defunct prophecy refers. Albus, no doubt, has a different interpretation to that particular part.” After the adoption, Sirius and Remus took Harry to the Hall of Mysteries, to finally find out what that damned prophecy really said. They brought the sphere home and everyone listened to it with bated breath. There was silence as the words echoed in the air, before a loud snort erupted from the ‘Savior’.

“That’s it?!” he had cried incredulously. “No ‘and this is how he will do it’, or ‘and the power will be’? My parents were killed for that?!”

“It would seem so,” Severus had said with a loud snort before he started laughing. Black and Lupin were already on the floor, rolling around and gasping for breath they were laughing so hard.

“What do you think the old coot believes the power to be?” Lucius asked softly, looking at the little boy who was his honorary first cousin-once-removed-in-law.

“He’s soft, for lack of a better term,” Severus responded quietly. “He always believes in the ‘goodness’ of humanity, and doesn’t believe that humans are inherently evil or bad. Does anyone know the story of his sister?”

“Sister?” Sirius barked, surprised. “I didn’t even know he had a sister.”

“He doesn’t talk about her much,” Remus said into the quiet. “He closely guards his secrets. I was able to get information about his childhood from Aberforth, at the Hogs Head. Severus was there with me. Abe told us that their baby sister, Ariana, was badly hurt by muggle boys frightened at her magic. It caused a fracture in her mind, and she was unable to control her power. According to Abe, it made everyone miserable, because her magic would lash out at them for no apparent reason.

“Their father went after the boys and gave them the same treatment they gave Ariana and was sent to Azkaban for it, where he died. Albus was left to take care of the family, but, being an arrogant teenager, he shirked his duties, which fell to Abe. Then he met Gellert Grindelwald and, for a while, they plotted muggle domination. I’m sure Albus would never want this bit of news to be released,” Lupin growled with a feral grin, matched by the equally malevolent smiles of the rest of the adults.

“In a confrontation between Albus, Aberforth and Gellert, Ariana came upon them dueling, and her magic let loose. Fearing for the safety of his lover, Albus tried to shield him, and in the fray, a cutting curse took the girl at the neck and killed her instantly. Gellert popped away, leaving Albus and Aberforth to clean up the mess. Unfortunately, no one knows exactly who killed Ariana, but after that, Albus decided to change his ways. That’s why he became the ‘omniscient, omnipotent’ overseer of the Greater Good. He’s never really done well with people, so for him it’s just easier to push them around on a chessboard. That way he can plead innocence whilst everyone else gets their hands dirty. He went from naïve ingénue to master manipulator, and doesn’t seem to care how many people he hurts to get his way.”

“I think he’ll conflate love as being the most powerful magic into the foretelling, and use that interpretation to make Harry fit the parameters of ‘prophecy child’. He wanted the boy away from the wizarding world, so that he would grow up meek and humble. I’m not sure where he was planning on sending Harry, but I’m pretty sure that it wouldn’t have been pleasant for the child,” Severus intoned as he stared at his godsons, his expression soft and full of love.

“James had no surviving relatives,” Sirius said softly, eyes sad. Harry got up and climbed into Padfoot’s lap, cuddling into the man and offering the only comfort he could. Arms wrapped tightly around the child and a nose was buried into dark, gently curling hair as the animagus got his emotions back under control. “The only relatives Lily had were her horrid sister and brother-in-law. Petunia’s a squib, and she lives in the muggle world. She was probably the most vicious bitch I’ve ever met.”

“Language,” Narcissa hissed angrily, making Sirius flinch.

“Sorry, Cissy,” he said sheepishly. “I forget sometimes that I’m not alone here. Anyway, if he was to send Harry anywhere, it would’ve been to her.”

“I recall Petunia,” Severus growled lowly, eyes darkening in remembrance. “I met her when we were children. She was awful then. I can only imagine how much worse she is now.”

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“So who’s handling Divination?” Lucius asked quietly. It was the night before Severus, Sirius and Remus had to leave for their teaching assignments at Hogwarts, and the boys were in bed, sleeping.

“Well, it was to be that hack Trelawney,” Sirius said with a feral grin. “However, since she was the one to sentence my pup to orphan-hood, and you were able to talk the School Board of Governors into sacking her, our new Mystical Portents professor is Phoebe Halliwell. Apparently, she has a better pedigree than Trelawney. I don’t believe in divination, so that charlatan had better stay far, far away from me.”

“While I agree that Sybill Trelawney was an absolute train wreck, divination itself is a well-documented discipline,” Narcissa felt the need to inform Sirius. He rolled his eyes at her, and she huffed an impatient breath. “Whether you believe it or not, Siri, prophets have been around for centuries. Those with the gift use it to benefit wizardkind. It’s only those with an eye toward profit that stain the discipline as chicanery.”

“I have to agree with her, Padfoot,” Remus contributed with a grin. “True prophets and seers are exceedingly rare; only those marked by Magick herself have a true gift for foretelling the future.”

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“Do you have to go?” Harry whined, topaz eyes pleading in desperation. Sirius felt himself caving under that look, and Remus stepped in to rescue the other man from the mountains of guilt his son was inflicting.

“Yes, Harry, we have to go,” Remus told the tot as he knelt to eye level. “We’re professors now as you well know, and we need to go get our classes ready for tomorrow. The students will be arriving tonight, and we need to be there.”

“I wanna come, too,” the child pleaded softly, tears shimmering on his lashes. Remus felt his heart clench as he looked into his son’s heartbroken gaze, and he started to crumble, as well. Into the breach stepped Severus, who distracted the toddler so that the other two men could make their escape.

“That’s enough, scamp,” the Potions Master said as he lifted little Harry into his arms and hugged him tight. Tiny arms wrapped around his neck and a small face snuggled under the Potions Master's chin. Severus could feel the tears dampening his shoulder, and he closed his eyes tightly to fight his own desire to give in to the child. “We have to teach those dunderheads how to be proper witches and wizards,” he continued, voice rough with the battle against his own tears. “We will have you at the school on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, along with Draco, so that we can continue your magical lessons.

“We need you here to make sure that Narcissa and Lucius stay out of trouble. With the rest of us gone, we need someone brave here to protect them from the Ministry and the Aurors.”

“But I want to go with you,” Harry whispered, arms tightening around his neck. “I don’t want you to find someone else to take my place.” Ebon eyes widened in surprise as the child’s true fear was finally expressed.

“No one could ever take your place in my heart, baby,” the dour man replied with a kiss to the boy’s cheek. He set the child back on his feet with a playful glare. “You and Draco are the most important people in my life,” he continued, happy to see that the little imp was paying rapt attention to him. “Nothing and no one will ever change that.”

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“Ah, Remus, my boy,” Albus trumpeted as he stepped into the DADA classroom. “How is little Harry? There have been a couple of full moons since I last saw you. I do hope that you’ve found a way for his transformation to be easier.” The headmaster was looking at the lycan with a disappointed frown, but blue eyes widened in shock at the vicious smile, full of too-sharp teeth, that had greeted him.

“Harry’s fine, headmaster,” the werewolf snarled, eyes glowing amber. “As Sirius and I have told you, my blood has, in no way, ‘tainted’ him. In fact, his donation to the ritual has melded wolf with man, and I am now a complete person. I no longer need the wolfsbane potion, and I’ll thank you to keep your long crooked nose out of my family business. If that’s all, you can get out.”

Turning, Albus huffed as he quickly exited the classroom, a scowl of epic proportions on his face. I must have that child, he thought angrily as he stormed up to his office. His magic will keep me alive for a very long time, and I’ll finally be able to accomplish all of my goals. I just have to figure out a way to get to him before it’s too late.

Chapter 8

“Hello boys,” the Potions Master said softly as the children came through the floo in his private rooms. Following immediately were the elder Malfoys, to ensure that the kids had made it safely. Once the children were dropped off, Draco’s parents returned to the manor to enjoy the evening without the little miscreants. Within the office were Remus and Sirius, who swooped in as soon as their cub had appeared and were snuggling the stuffing out of their tyke.

“I can’t breathe,” the seven year old boy gasped, a wide smile on his face and joy sparkling in his topaz eyes. His parents loosened their grip on him only slightly, and it was a few long moments before they were willing to let him go. As soon as the little imp’s feet touched the floor, he dashed to his favorite uncle Sev, leaping into the air as the dour man’s arms were held wide.

“I’ve missed you, Harry,” Snape murmured as he cuddled the moppet close.

“I’ve missed you, too, uncle Sev,” the child repeated, burying his nose in the Potion’s Master’s neck, arms and legs wrapped tightly around the older man’s body. It didn’t appear that either being was willing to let go of the other, but a strident brat’s voice broke the air.

“Come on, Harry,” Draco whinged. “I want to say hello, too.” Smiling sheepishly, the raven turned his head to look at his bond mate, laughing outright at the monumental pout on the blond’s face. He loosened his grip and stepped away from the tall man as soon as he was placed on the floor. With more decorum than Harry had exhibited, Draco marched up to his godfather, arms flinging demandingly into the air. After the ritual was complete, everyone settled down whilst Severus explained what would be going on during their visits three nights a week. The initial idea they had, to bring the boys into the castle at five, was scrapped in favor of waiting until they had a stronger, more solid foundation in their practical magic, just in case something happened during the visits that could result in injury if the boys were unprepared.

“You both will always arrive at eight o’clock sharp,” the dour man said with a fond smile. “This will ensure that your parents will be here as well, Harry, providing there aren’t any detentions or other matters to which they must attend. You will visit with them for one half hour before the two of you are to move on to the potions lessons I have planned for you. Most of the potions should not take more than an hour, though there will be exceptions, and afterward you will visit with your parents until eleven o’clock, barring any unforeseen circumstances.

“You will not leave these rooms, for any reason, Harry. We cannot risk Dumbledore stumbling upon you and spiriting you away before we are aware. I expect the pair of you to excel at every task I set you, so it would be to your benefit if you study ahead. If either of you are having trouble understanding a concept, ask Lucius or Narcissa. Our weekends will encompass a variety of enjoyable outings, so that the both of you are relaxed and rested enough to continue your lessons in the following weeks.

“Though I’ve only been tutoring the pair of you for two years, since you were five, you both have shown a remarkable grasp for the delicate dance that is potions. The next four years will be hard, as I increase the difficulty of the potions you both will learn. By the time you receive your Hogwarts letters, I expect that you will be competent up to graduate level when you attend my class. I have every confidence that the both of you will exceed my expectations. Now, go visit your parents, Harry, whilst I get the lab ready for you and Draco.”

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It was several weeks later when the headmaster finally discovered that Harry was in the school. The boys were in the middle of a very delicate stage of the Forgetfulness potion when the old man barged into the practice potions lab, looking for Severus. He had tried the Potions Master’s personal rooms first, but didn’t see him anywhere. So he figured that the younger man was most likely in the lab, creating potions for madam Pomfrey. The sudden entrance startled both children, who had dropped their containers holding the standard ingredient mixed with the mistletoe berries. Because the mixture wasn’t added in time, the potion turned to sludge at the bottom of the cauldron, ruining their lesson. Dumbledore’s eyes widened when he spied the raven, scowling darkly at him from in front of one of the desks. He was so excited to see the child within his grasp that he failed to notice Severus, Sirius and Remus, who were all sitting at the desks in the back of the lab in the corner farthest from the door, working through the lessons that they were grading.

“Harry, my boy,” the old man boomed out cheerily, making a beeline for the young lad. “I’m ever so glad to see you. Now, if you’ll just come with me, we can get you into your relatives’ care and under the protections afforded you due to your mother’s sacrifice.” Topaz eyes widening, Harry quickly backpedaled away from the advancing geriatric man, his flailing arm knocking his cauldron from the fire. The resultant crash as it hit the stone floor had Draco crying out, startled, and the adults were instantly in front of the children, having moved as soon as they saw the headmaster charging toward the brunet.

“That’s far enough,” Severus snarled as his hand automatically went up to halt Dumbledore. The old man, completely ignoring the men before him, slammed to a halt when the Potions Master’s hand collided with his chest. He rebounded rather roughly, since he was heading at speed toward his target, and he stumbled back, falling to his arse as he tripped over his robes. Draco pulled Harry into his arms, both boys shivering with fear at the close call they’d just experienced. “You’ve already been informed that Harry was legally adopted by Sirius and Remus. You have absolutely no say in what goes on in his life. Furthermore you are to remain as far away from our boys as is possible without leaving the castle.

“If I see you anywhere near my little ones, I will flay your flesh from your bones. Believe me, between the Malfoys and I, we can accomplish it with minimal fuss, and no one would ever be able to find your remains. Take this for the warning it is and bugger off.”

Albus struggled to his feet, his face turning purple in rage at the blatant disobedience and disrespect that one of his favored puppets was showing him. He brushed the dust off of his robes, trying to contain his growing anger, before he looked at Snape, his cerulean eyes darkened and the twinkle noticeably absent. “How dare you threaten me, Severus,” he snarled, stepping closer to the dark man. “Remember who it was to keep you from Azkaban at the end of the first war. I can very easily go to the Wizengamot and inform them that you’ve continued your Death Eater ways and have you incarcerated in Azkaban before the week is out. Do not test me; you will not like the results.”

“First off, old man, you did not keep me from Azkaban,” the Potions Master snapped back, incensed. “Sirius Black and Remus Lupin spoke up for me in the DMLE, and it was they who helped clear my name. Secondly, I owe you nothing. If it weren’t for your interference, the Dark Lord would have never gone after the Potters in the first place. Had you not leaked that supposed prophecy, he would have never had a reason to go after a baby. Thirdly, it wasn’t a threat; it was a promise. Harm one hair on either child’s head, and I will have yours.”

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Albus sat in his office, glaring at his desktop angrily. All of the tentative plans and tasks he’d set up for testing his weapon were scattered about it, but he stared, unseeing, at the surface. How am I going to get hold of that brat now? he thought wrathfully. I wonder how long he’s been coming into the castle without my knowledge? I cannot believe that Severus would disobey me so completely. I have to have that child. He’s my gateway to immortality and power. He is the key to ensuring that I achieve my goals and create my legacy. I cannot afford to give up now. I’ll just have the portraits keep an eye on the boy’s arrival times and figure out how to obtain him once I have that information.

“I thought you had alerts for these situations,” Sirius growled at the Potions Master once they all returned to the man’s private quarters. They were all still shaken up at the unwelcome and unpleasant intrusion of the headmaster; Harry was cuddled between his dad and father, still shivering fitfully at the very close call he’d just experienced.

“I have alert wards on my private rooms,” Snape snarled in return, still enraged at the old man’s attempt to snatch his Harry. “I didn’t think I’d need them on a practice lab, for Merlin’s sake. Usually if he cannot find me in my rooms, he’ll leave a message with one of the nearby portraits. The problem is, I do not know why he wanted to see me, so I can reasonably expect to be called to his office some time tomorrow to discuss whatever matter it was for which he deemed it important to disturb me during my off hours. I suspect it may have something to do with the Dark Lord or the Order of the Phoenix.”

“Are you still part of that, Severus?” Remus asked, gently carding his fingers through Harry’s raven locks to soothe the child. “I would have thought that you’d distance yourself from that group once you became Harry’s godfather.”

“Since you two withdrew your ‘membership’ when you adopted Harry, I felt it necessary to remain within the organization, so that I could have first-hand knowledge of any plans or schemes the headmaster had in regards to the Dark Lord,” Severus replied softly, finally calming down from the horrendous fright that they’d all had that evening. “We need to know, not only his plans for within the school, but also those schemes outside these walls. At this point, we do not know in which direction he will go, and until we have a good, solid idea of what he’s up to, it’s best to cover all bases.”

“I...never thought of it that way,” Sirius said, a gleam of pride in his grey eyes. “Yes, Remus and I withdrew from the Order when we adopted Harry. We felt that it would be a huge conflict of interest, since we need to protect him from Albus now, rather than the Dark Lord. I can see him trying to snatch Harry while we’re at a meeting, and the very idea gives me nightmares.”

“Me, too,” replied Severus and Remus at the same time. They grinned at each other, while a soft snort of amusement escaped Sirius. “Has your great great grandfather given you any more information on what Albus plans for Harry?” Snape continued, looking at the animagus worriedly.

“Not yet,” Black replied with a disappointed sigh. “He says that Dumbledore’s plans are always put away before he goes to bed, and since Harry isn’t in the wards as a student yet, Phineas can’t leave his portrait to hunt them down. I’m hoping that some dumb luck will be on our side soon, and Granddad will be able to get us the information we desperately need if we’re to protect these two precious boys in the coming years.”

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It was one a.m. and Phineas had stretched as far as he could within the canvas hanging directly behind the headmaster’s desk, trying desperately to get a look at the plans and papers strewn about the wood surface. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a burst of flame, and suddenly Fawkes was perched in the center of the desk, picking up sheets of paper within his beak. He turned to the portrait, staring into Black’s eyes searchingly. As if finding what he needed to, the phoenix lifted from the desk and hovered in front of the former headmaster’s painting. He started to glow softly and as he did he pushed his head into the painting, dropping the parchment pages into the stunned man’s hands. Three more times Fawkes did this, until every scrap that had sat upon Dumbledore’s desk was in Sirius’ great great grandfather’s grasp.

Grinning maliciously, Black left his portrait, entering the one at Black Manor. Seeing that it was still too early, the painted man sat at the desk in the background and spread the pages over it, looking closely at each and every one and coming up with scenario after scenario to try and derail the plots before they could get started.

Chapter 9

“Fawkes has gifted me with an invaluable amount of information,” Phineas told everyone. It was September 21, a Sunday, and the extended family had just spent the previous day exploring the island nation of Greece. The Malfoys and the Lupin-Blacks wanted to make their weekend excursions educational as well as fun. Everyone was settled in front of the portrait, waiting curiously for whatever news Sirius’ great great grandfather had to impart.

“Wait,” Remus murmured with a hand up, “Fawkes gave you the information? I thought he was Dumbledore’s familiar.”

“Fawkes’ first duty is to the school and its children,” Black said softly with a fond smile for the phoenix. “He was brought to Hogwarts by Godric Gryffindor, who had found the phoenix egg buried in the ground where Hogsmeade was to be built. They were breaking ground for one of the homes when someone turned over some earth and the ovum surfaced. Godric saw the color of the shell and knew instantly what it was. So he brought it to the headmaster’s office and encouraged it to hatch. When Fawkes matured, he was bonded to the castle and charged with seeing to the welfare of all the children who would attend the school. He’s always been a symbol for sanctuary to those who needed it, until Albus Dumbledore became headmaster.

“Anyway, he gave me all of the plans and schemes that the headmaster has been plotting, and I’m here to pass that information along to you.” He held up the sheaf of parchment in his hands, a malicious grin on his face. He then turned and pulled the chair from in front of the desk in the painting and sat down. “Amongst the many, many, many outlines are a few that will involve young Harry within the school whilst he’s a student.” He pulled a sheet of paper free and looked at it. “The test for first year involves something called the Philosopher’s stone. He’s planning on hiding it behind a great many traps and tests and encouraging the young man to ‘protect’ the stone from Voldemort.”

“Voldemort’s gone,” Sirius told his great great grandsire softly. “All of us in this room put an end to the bastard while Harry was still little.”

“I suggest you sit on that information for right now, grandson,” Phineas said softly. “Allow Albus to bury himself with his schemes, and only when you have him thoroughly on the ropes will you reveal the information and the proof.”

“So Dumbledore has plans for the entirety of Harry’s schooling?” Severus asked quietly.

“He does,” Black acknowledged. “He also has plans for after, when he intends to siphon off the little one’s magic. However, since I have the only copies he’s made, I’m sure that we can tweak them a bit so that they will fail in a most spectacular way without injuring the child.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius was on his way to the Great Hall for lunch when he spied Dumbledore heading toward the dungeons looking a little squirrely. Frowning in consternation, the animagus decided to follow the old man to see what he was up to. He trailed after the headmaster quietly, watching with narrowed eyes as Albus headed straight for the potions classroom. Sirius knew that the class was about to let out for lunch, leaving Severus with a break before the next set of students descended upon him, and was rather worried about why the old man had wanted to see the Potions Master. His eyes widened as he watched Albus cast a disillusionment charm, and it was only by virtue of watching the wizard cast it that Padfoot knew where the old man was.

Moments later, the classroom door opened and the students poured out of it like their hair was on fire and their arses catching. Sirius fought to stem the sudden spate of giggles that tried to overtake him, muffling his quiet snorts against his sleeve as he continued to watch Dumbledore. The headmaster entered the room and Black quietly followed, watching as Albus headed unerringly for Severus’ desk. He saw the flicker of movement as the headmaster raised his wand and before he knew it, he was barking out “Expelliarmus” as loud as he could, holding out his hand as the headmaster’s wand flew onto his palm. The spell to hide Dumbledore fell with the old man’s shock, revealing himself to Snape, who glared murder at the intruder.

“What is the meaning of this?” the dour man hissed venomously.

“I saw Dumbledore acting a little suspiciously, so I decided to follow him,” Sirius told his son’s godfather quietly. “I don’t know what spell he was about to cast, but I wasn’t going to let him succeed, so I disarmed him.”

“I would like my wand back, if you please, Sirius,” the headmaster said with wounded dignity.

“I don’t think so,” the animagus replied with a malicious smirk. “I won the wand by right of conquest, so it’s mine now.”

“I demand you return my wand at once,” the old man bellowed, a frantic look in his watery blue eyes.

“My my,” Severus murmured thoughtfully. “You seem rather anxious to get your wand back. I wonder what its significance is, that you would deny Sirius’ right to own it now.”

“It...it has sentimental value,” Dumbledore prevaricated, the panic in his eyes increasing at the skeptical looks he was receiving. “I...I won it in a landmark duel and I’d like it back.”

“Hmmm,” Severus hummed thoughtfully, “the only landmark duel you’ve ever had was with Grindelwald. So it stands to reason that it’s Gellert’s wand that you wish to keep. And not just for sentimental value,” the potions professor scoffed disbelievingly. “I would wager that the wand has some sort of significance. We’ll look into it this weekend, Sirius. Until then, enjoy your new wand.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sirius?” McGonagall said as she entered the History of Magic classroom. “I have something here that I believe belongs to Harry, if you’d like to give it to him.” She handed the animagus a silvery cloak that felt like water in his hands.

“James’ invisibility cloak,” Harry’s father whispered reverently. “I’d thought it lost in the battle that horrid night. Where did you find it?”

“It was in the headmaster’s office, hidden inside his pensieve cabinet,” Minerva told the other man softly.

“What was it doing there?” Sirius asked incredulously. “Why did he have it?”

“I don’t know, Sirius,” the transfiguration professor murmured with a scowl. “I only know that he’d placed it under some wards to keep it hidden. I’d bumped into the dresser and felt something a little off with it. It had quite a few layered obscuring and protective charms on it, and the only thing I could figure was that there was something dangerous in there. I knew I couldn’t undo all of the layered and tied together wards and charms, but then Fawkes came over and used one of his claws to dispel the protections. I opened the cabinet and found the cloak.”

“How did you know that it belonged to James?” Sirius asked curiously.

“I’d seen the pair of you a time or two using it to skulk around the dungeons,” Minerva told the animagus with a glare. “Since you seemed to be having fun, I didn’t think anything of it.”

“Thank you, Minnie,” Black said with a wide grin. “Now I can give my son something else of his family history besides stories.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, I seem to remember something of the Peverell brothers,” Phineas said softly. Everyone was gathered before his portrait, asking him questions about the wand and the cloak. Sirius had taken a closer look at James’ legacy and had found an odd little triangle in the neck of the cloth. On the wand was the triangle with a straight line bisecting it. They somehow seemed to go together, so Sirius asked his great great grandfather about it. “They were great magical theorists and had created a great many spells and incantations that are still in use today. Some of their more esoteric inventions included wands and cloaks. They liked to experiment with magical equipment that existed in their time.

“Invisibility cloaks, as we all know, are made of demiguise pelts. As such, they are prone to wear out and degrade over time. Ignotus used many magical creature skins to try and create a cloak that would last longer than a few years. It was as he was experimenting with a lethifold skin that he’d discovered some remarkable abilities. Lethifold pelts can last an incredibly long time. They’re very nearly indestructible, and can withstand the strongest of spells. The only one they can’t stand up to is the killing curse. The skin ensures that no magical object can penetrate the spells, as the pelts are highly absorbent. The pelt ensures complete invisibility from anything, including magical viewers like eyes that can see through invisibility spells.

“Antioch was interested in creating a wand that would defeat anyone in a duel, no matter their mastery. He experimented with combinations of woods and cores until he discovered that the elder wood seemed to hold and channel the wizard’s power the strongest. With the addition of the thestral hair core, it made the wand nearly unbeatable. It was the connection to death that made the wand more powerful than any other.

“Cadmus experimented with necromantic magic. He had lost his beloved wife and had such a hard time living without her that he worked night and day to create a special stone to ‘resurrect’ her, even if only for a few short minutes. It was as he was working with a piece of petrified dementor’s heart that he stumbled on the exact rituals and spells to empower the stone with necromantic abilities. Using the dementor’s heart, which itself was steeped in death magic, enabled Cadmus to call his wife back to him so that he could reassure himself that she was happy and that he would someday see her again. He used the stone as the setting for a ring which had been passed down through generations, as had the cloak. If you look into the family histories of both the Potters and the Gaunts, you might find the information you’re looking for as to why Albus wants the wand so badly, and perhaps why he wanted the cloak, as well.”

“This is a lot to take in, Granddad,” Sirius murmured, eyes struck wide at the implications of the wand now in his possession. “Is...am...will there be trouble if people find out I have possession of this?” he finally asked, waving the deathstick around frantically.

“The wand is highly sought-after,” Phineas sighed resignedly. “However, if you use that incredible well of power I know you possess, you may be able to earn its loyalty so that no one will be able to take it from you. It bonds with only certain wizards and witches who have a specific amount of natural death magic in their cores. The Blacks have powerful necromancers in their lineage, and I’m sure that you’ll be able to master that wand.”

“Necromancy is illegal, and very Dark,” Remus murmured worriedly. “Won’t it twist Sirius up?”

“He is not practicing necromancy per se,” Severus corrected patiently. “He is only trying to master the wand so that it will serve him as it should. It will only touch on the Dark power he already has in his core to energize the spells he casts. If he’s able to connect that part of his magic to the wand and core, he’ll have a better chance of protecting Harry and the family.”

“So why did you tell us of the history of the Peverells?” Lucius finally asked, the only question that mattered to him at that point.

“The three items that the Peverells created were rumored to be called the Deathly Hallows,” Phineas replied with a grin. “It was said that if someone possesses all three of the Hallows, he or she becomes Master of Death. Right now you have the wand and the cloak; if you find the ring, I’m sure that their magics will resonate with each other and increase your magical strength, especially with the wand.”

“What, pray tell, did the ring look like?” Severus queried curiously.

“It was a heavy beaten gold band with a black stone in the center,” the Black portrait responded promptly.

“Did...did we destroy the Resurrection stone?” Lucius gasped harshly.

“It’s impossible to destroy a piece of petrified dementor heart,” Phineas told them cheerfully. “If you’ve burned the ring, and I assume you did to rid it of a horcrux, the stone should have survived the fire.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, I found the stone,” Severus said. “Or at least one of the house elves found it. When I asked the head house elf if he had found a polished black stone in the dungeons, he brought it straight to me. We now have all of the Hallows in one place.”

“Albus had better watch out,” Lucius snarled angrily. “If we’re able to connect them in just the right way, he will rue the day he’d ever crossed us.”

Chapter 10

“Hey, Harry,” Sirius said to the nine year old. The child’s parents were home from Hogwarts for the weekend, as per usual, and Severus disappeared down to the Black family potions lab in the cellars as soon as he dusted himself off. He didn’t even give the boys so much as a glance which resulted in endless pouting and sulking.

“Yeah, Dad?” the brunet asked curiously.

“A couple of my students approached me this past week asking if you could come meet their family,” the animagus told his son with a smile. “First Charlie Weasley came up to me in sixth year history to ask if we could bring you over to their house. Then Percy interrupted the third year class to ask the same thing. I think the Weasleys would like to get to know you, pup.”

“Are they safe?” Harry asked cautiously, topaz eyes shuttered.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Harry,” his father murmured with a frown.

“I know that there are a lot of Light families that follow Dumbledore,” the lad responded with a mulish expression. “I want to know if they’re safe.”

“Your son exceeds even my expectations for brilliance, Sirius,” Severus snarked good-naturedly from the doorway. Harry spun around and folded his arms, glaring for all he was worth at his godfather. “Now what have I done to be on the receiving end of such a look?” the Potions Master queried softly, eyes narrowed.

“You came home and didn’t even say hi to me,” Harry huffed, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “You promised that no one else would take my place, and yet someone has. That’s the only reason you would ignore me.”

“I am so sorry, child,” Severus said, chagrined. He strode forward and knelt in front of his godson, hands at his sides until he knew he was welcome. “I did not mean to ignore you,” he continued quietly. “I had just finished an experimental potion I was working on, and I needed to test it. The only supplies I could use are in the labs downstairs. Believe me, baby, no one and nothing will ever take your place in my heart.” Harry immediately leaned into his godfather, arms wrapping tightly around the dark man’s neck. Severus’ arms wound around Harry’s body, pulling him close for a good, hard snuggle.

“Now,” Snape continued as he rose to his feet, “your son has a good question. Are the Weasleys safe? After all, they were part of Dumbledore’s Order of the Phoenix during the first war, so their loyalties may be firmly tied to him.”

“I completely forgot about that,” Sirius responded with a grimace. “Yeah, I’ll ask Charlie if his parents still follow Dumbledore as closely as they did in the first war. Honestly, I’d like to get Harry around other kids his own age so that he’ll be a bit more socialized. Staying here around adults might make his Hogwarts years a little more difficult than they need to be. Besides, Draco and Harry could use a good, strong support system when they go to Hogwarts.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Charlie? You mind if I talk to you after class?” Sirius said to the oldest Weasley in school.

“Sure thing, professor Black,” the redhead nodded with a smile. Once the rest of the students had left for parts unknown, Sirius closed and warded the door for privacy.

“Have a seat, Charlie,” Black invited softly. Sirius approached the teen, sitting down in the chair next to the younger man and clasping his hands together in front of him as he leaned his elbows on his knees. “I’ve thought about your invitation, and I’ve talked it over with Harry, my husband and my child’s godfather. My son’s a little...hesitant to trust that you or your family won’t try and allow Dumbledore to interfere with his visits to the Burrow.” Charlie opened his mouth to protest, but Sirius held up a hand, staying the teen’s tongue for the moment. “Please understand that it’s nothing against you; your parents are part of Albus’ Order of the Phoenix, and were instrumental in fighting back the Death Eaters in the first war.

“The headmaster has already tried to take Harry away from Remus and I before, and we don’t want to put him in a position where Albus could try again. Your parents are staunch supporters of the Light, and are brave and noble people. However, they can also be easily led by Dumbledore if he makes them believe that Harry could come to some sort of harm in my care. You see, Albus wants to put Harry with his mother’s sister and her family in the muggle world. He claims it’s for my son’s protection, but I know Petunia Evans and she won’t treat my son with any sort of ordinary care. She hated her sister for being a witch, and she’ll turn that venom on to Harry if he’s left there.”

“I understand your concern, and I could talk to Mum and see if she’ll ignore professor Dumbledore should he come calling to the house,” Charlie said softly. “Mum and Dad were close with Mr. and Mrs. Potter, and they want to see how their son is doing. I can probably get the other kids to run interference if the headmaster shows up unannounced. I can’t promise that we’ll be able to keep him away from the house, but I will say that we won’t let him get near your son when he visits with us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Mum,

Professor Black spoke to me about bringing Harry Potter over to the Burrow, and it isn’t good. Harry is afraid that he won’t be safe there. Because you and Dad were part of the Order of the Phoenix in the first war, professor Black and his godson don’t think you would have Harry’s best interests at heart should the headmaster unexpectedly come calling. Professor Black says that professor Dumbledore tried to take Harry away from him before. If this is true, then I can completely understand why they would want to avoid anyone allied with the headmaster.

Professor Black seems to care a great deal for Harry, and has even called him son. I don’t think they’ll be over any time soon, and I can’t really blame them for that. I’ll try again in a little while, but if I were you, I wouldn’t hold my breath.

Love,

Charlie

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Charlie,

What utter nonsense; to accuse Albus Dumbledore of trying to kidnap the Boy Who Lived. That just proves what Albus has said, that Sirius Black is not a stable guardian for that child. Granted, the man is the boy’s godfather, but those bonds can be broken if suitable evidence is given that the person granted that honor is in some way detrimental to the health and safety of the child. I’ll let Arthur know to approach the DMLE Child Welfare division to have Black’s rights as godfather severed, with Albus' help.

I will let you know as soon as I have the paperwork in my hands, and you’ll need to get Black’s address. That child must be protected, and Sirius Black is in no way responsible enough to do that. Why, I’m almost positive he’s influencing that child to be the same sort of reprobate he was whilst in school. You leave everything to me, and I’ll have that boy in safer hands before you can catch a snitch.

I love you, Charlie.

Mum

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Greetings Sirius Black:

You are being served notice to surrender the child known as Harry James Potter to the Child Welfare office of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement no later than October 31, 1989. He will be placed with his only living relatives on his mother’s side for his protection and safety. The fact that you’ve kept him away from his only blood family is criminal; however, we will not file charges against you for this if you turn the child over to us by the date stated.

Sincerely,

Amelia Bones, Head

Department of Magical Law Enforcement

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, I’m here,” Sirius barked as he stormed into Bones’ office, the summons gripped in his fist. Harry was left with the Malfoys, Remus and Severus for his protection. The animagus angrily threw the wadded up piece of paper at the DMLE Head in fury, a snarl plastered on his face.

“Sirius Black?” the woman asked incredulously. “What in Merlin’s name is this about?”

“That shite summons your department sent me, demanding that I turn over MY SON to you!” Black bellowed, startling screams from several offices away.

“Your son?” Amelia repeated in confusion. “What are you talking about?” She picked up the wad of paper and straightened it out, reading through it three times to make sure that she was actually seeing what she thought she was seeing. She looked up at the seething animagus, her own eyes reflecting her fury. “I did not send this,” she barked, matching Black glare for glare. “The Child Welfare department would not have demanded the forfeiture of the child; they would have investigated the home situation thoroughly to ensure that any complaints have merit. I should caution you, however, that claiming a godfather bond as equal to a parent is not the way to go.”

“Harry James Lupin-Black is my son in blood and magic,” Sirius explained, having calmed down somewhat. “We went to Gringotts and paid the goblins for a specialized blood adoption after Remus and I were bonded. The adoption should be registered in the records department. And since you didn’t instigate this, I have a pretty good idea who did.”

“We’ll go to the Child Welfare office and get this straightened out, Sirius,” Amelia said as she escorted the much calmer man down the corridor. “I’m sure that it was just a mistake.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y-yes, ma’am,” the clerk said tremblingly. “A-Albus Dumbledore came in and lodged a complaint against Lord Black, claiming that he’d kidnapped Harry Potter away from his mother’s sister’s family. We had no choice but to send out a summons to Lord Black to turn the child over to us; the complainant is the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and has ultimate authority here.”

"Why was it signed by me?" Amelia hissed angrily.

"P-professor Dumbledore felt that it would be more legitimate with your signature, so he c-copied it from another form," the clerk answered with a catch in her voice.

“Did he tell you that Lord Black had adopted Harry Potter?” the department Head ground out through gritted teeth.

“N-no, ma’am,” the clerk replied, voice squeaking as she feared for her job. “We were just told to send the summons and collect the child when he was brought to us.”

“I suggest you send a memo to the records department, asking for the official adoption certificate,” Bones growled lowly, her monocle reflecting the light from the nearby sconces and hiding the gaze from that eye. Her other eye, however, showed the clerk that, should she not do as she was told pronto, she would be out of a job, and quite possibly brought up on charges of custodial interference.

“Y-yes, ma’am,” the clerk murmured, sending a memo so quickly that she received a paper cut on her index finger. It was perhaps fifteen minutes later when a scroll was returned by interoffice owl. The clerk cracked the seal on it and unrolled it, paling drastically as she stared at the evidence of her mistake.

“Is that the adoption certificate?” Amelia asked dangerously.

“Y-yes, ma’am,” the clerk whispered, tears standing out on her lashes.

“Has it been certified by the Ministry?” Bones continued her interrogation.

“Y-yes, ma’am,” the clerk squeaked, tears running freely down her cheeks.

“I want you to submit your memory of Albus Dumbledore lodging the complaint,” Bones told the woman, who nodded rapidly in agreement. “I want you to gather as much physical evidence as you can that pertains to Dumbledore’s attempts at custodial interference, as well as the blatant forgery of my name.” More nodding followed this demand. “Then I want you to gather up all the employees that witnessed this crime and get their testimonies and memories.” The woman nodded her head so hard that the bones of her neck popped. "If you can complete these tasks to my satisfaction and deliver them to me personally, I see no reason to involve you in the case. Is that understood?”

“Y-yes, ma’am,” the clerk whimpered, nearly collapsing with relief at the thought that she would be able to keep her job. Bones and Black left the Child Welfare Office, smirking as they heard the woman let out a tremulous sigh of relief. There was additional scurrying sounds behind them as they closed the door, and Bones looked at Sirius with a malicious gleam in her eye.

“I’ve been looking for a way to nail Dumbledore’s wrinkled old nut sack to the wall for ages,” she crowed quietly as they returned to her office. “Now, I think we should discuss ways to keep your son safe.”

Chapter 11

“These are some pretty serious charges, Amelia,” Rufus Scrimgeour said solemnly. “Do you have proof to back them up?”

“I do,” she said as she handed him a thick sheaf of parchments and several vials containing a swirling silvery liquid that could only be memories. Scrimgeour’s eyebrows shot into his hairline in shock as he read over the sworn testimonies of the clerk, the records keeper and several assistants that had been in the Child Welfare office when Dumbledore made his demands. He glanced at the vials with a predatory expression on his face which tickled Bones to no end.

“The charges of forgery alone will get him kicked off of the Wizengamot,” the younger man growled happily. “Custodial interference could get him sacked as headmaster.”

“Too bad that the penalties for some of these actions aren’t stiffer,” the DMLE head complained bitterly. “We both know he’s been dipping his fingers into too many pies and there’s bound to be other things for which we can get him.”

“Well, let’s take a look at these memories, shall we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An owl sailed into the Burrow kitchen and landed in front of Arthur before Molly could set his breakfast plate down. Bill, Charlie, Percy, the twins and Ron all watched curiously. Ginny wasn’t feeling well and was in bed that morning so she missed the show.

“What’s that, Dad?” Charlie asked softly, worried about the look on his father’s face.

“It’s a summons from the Ministry, asking for your mother and I to appear at a court hearing on Monday.”

“Whatever for, Arthur?” the Weasley matriarch asked in concern.

“Custodial interference, it looks like,” Mr. Weasley replied softly, reading over the summons for the fourth time to make sure that he had the information contained within it right. “Apparently our attempts to remove custody of Harry Potter from Sirius Black have failed. Evidence was provided that proved that Black, along with Remus Lupin had, in fact, adopted Harry. Both Lupin and Black are bonded and Harry is now Harry James Lupin-Black.”

“That can’t be right, Arthur,” Molly disagreed vehemently. “Albus assured us that Black was only using his status as godfather to claim custody. He told me that there was no official paperwork recognizing an adoption of any kind.”

“Well, he lied,” her husband barked harshly, making everyone flinch. “They sent along a copy of the certificate, and it’s been registered with the Ministry department responsible for births, deaths and adoptions. Since we helped him try and kidnap Harry Lupin-Black, we could be facing fines that we cannot afford. I could lose my job for this!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We are here to adjudicate the case against Albus Dumbledore, Arthur Weasley and Molly Weasley for attempted custodial interference. Additional charges of attempted kidnapping and forgery are being levied against Albus Dumbledore. I, Amelia Susan Bones, have been asked to serve as Chief Witch for the hearing. How do the defendants plead?”

“Not guilty,” Dumbledore said for all of them.

“Who is the defense attorney of record?” she inquired.

“I am Elliot Stabler for the defense,” a thin balding man said as he stood from the defendants’ table. He wore hounds-tooth robes and had an air of thinly veiled impatience.

“Who is the prosecutor of record?” the Chief Witch asked.

“I am prosecutor Arthur Branch, and I am overseeing the case,” an older, heavyset man drawled with a slight cockney accent.

“Very well,” Amelia intoned with a tap of her gavel. “Mr. Prosecutor, you may begin.”

“Albus Dumbledore has believed himself to be above the law for a great many years,” the older man stated solemnly as he looked around at the full Wizengamot and the gallery. Most of the faces reflected anger that a great man was being persecuted so unjustly, but there were a few that had expectant looks, as if waiting for the hammer to fall hard on the old man. Behind the prosecutor’s table sat Sirius, Remus and Severus, who were there to offer up testimony and memories of the confrontations they’d had with the headmaster over Harry. “His heroic defeat of Gellert Grindelwald in 1945 gained him adulation and reverence as a powerful, benevolent man, which he used to his advantage for many, many years.

“The history he had with Grindelwald in their youths was swept under the metaphorical carpet; after all, it wouldn’t do to allow information about Dumbledore’s personal relationship with the previous Dark Lord to be released to the general wizarding public, nor would their plans for muggle domination be beneficial to the headmaster’s rise to fame and glory. Now that there was a new Dark Lord on the horizon, Dumbledore saw the opportunity to become relevant and important once again. His waning influence was not to be borne, so he would take this new opportunity to mold a puppet martyr who would sacrifice himself for the Greater Good.

“The prosecution will present evidence that shows how far Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was willing to go to ensure that he remain the shining beacon of hope for all magicals, but most specifically those who fall into line with his ideals. He already has quite a collection of sycophantic followers, including people like Molly and Arthur Weasley, who believe everything the old man tells them, to the exclusion of common sense and decency. He convinced them to become unwitting accomplices in his crimes of attempted kidnapping and custodial interference.”

“Thank you, Barrister Branch,” Amelia said with a small nod. “Barrister Stabler, you may begin.”

“The defense will offer up testimony and evidence that will refute the specious accusations laid against my clients,” the attorney said loudly. “These accusations were made by a man who had grown up in a Dark family, surrounded by objects and tomes gravid with evil. His only goal is to subvert the purpose of the Chosen One by turning the child away from his destiny; to save the wizarding world from the specter of another Dark Lord. And once that Dark Lord has risen, that man,” he pointed at Sirius, who jumped and flinched at all the sudden attention, “Sirius Black, will take his so-called godson to his master and turn the child over for unknown purposes. That he is aided in his quest to steal the Savior by a werewolf and a Death Eater only goes to prove that the child is not safe with these men.”

“All right, Barrister Branch call your first witness.”

“I call Sirius Lupin-Black to the stand,” Branch intoned quietly. Sirius stood and strode to the witness box where the truth runes were activated. “Please state your name for the record.”

“Sirius Orion Lupin-Black,” the animagus replied firmly.

“Now, you state that you’ve legally adopted Harry James Potter. Is this true?” Arthur asked.

“It is,” Sirius answered with a nod, a mulish expression on his face as he glared at Dumbledore and the Weasley parents. “Remus and I went to Gringotts the day after our bonding ceremony to get the special blood adoption ritual.”

“Why did you decide to adopt Harry Lupin-Black?” Branch queried. Before Sirius could answer, Stabler was on his feet.

“Objection!” he barked loudly, startling a few people who were concentrating on the testimony. “Black’s rights as godfather do not allow him to claim Harry Potter as his son.”

“I have, as People’s exhibit A, the signed and certified adoption certificate from the Ministry Records archive,” Branch said as he walked over to the prosecutor’s table and picked up a piece of parchment. He showed it to Stabler, who slumped, then handed it up to Bones, who had already seen it, but knew that this was part of the court proceedings.

“Objection overruled,” Amelia said, turning her gaze back to Branch. “You may continue.” Elliot sat down, a scowl on his face. Dumbledore leaned over and began frantically whispering in his attorney’s ear while Arthur Branch continued his case.

“Why did you decide to adopt Harry Lupin-Black?” the prosecutor repeated.

“After Remus, Severus, the Malfoys and I got rid of the Dark Lord, I wanted to make sure Harry was as safe as possible, and the only way to do that was to make sure he was a permanent part of my family,” Sirius answered, a gentle smile on his face.

“Objection!” the defense attorney barked again as he leapt to his feet. “The information about the Dark Lord is irrelevant and I demand that it be stricken from the record.”

“The information about the Dark Lord goes to the motive Albus Dumbledore has for obtaining control over Harry Lupin-Black,” Branch said. “I fully intend to explore that line of questioning to establish the groundwork for the case against Dumbledore.”

“I will overrule the objection, but I wish for you to stay on point for now, Barrister Branch,” Amelia told the prosecutor gently.

“Thank you, Chief Witch. So, to protect your godson, you decided to provide him with real family,” Branch continued his interrogation.

“That’s right,” Sirius replied. “The naming ceremony for godfather is a sacred rite, and creates a bond between godfather and godson that must be honored. Once I rescued my son on that horrible night, I realized that I wanted our bond to be even closer. Making him my son was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

"What did you mean when you said that yourself, your spouse, Severus Snape and the elder Malfoys had gotten rid of the Dark Lord?" Branch asked curiously.  There was an aborted attempt by Albus to interrupt the questioning, but Stabler grabbed his arm and yanked him back down to his seat.  Dumbledore hissed something at the attorney, who shook his head vehemently, a resigned look on his face.

"My cousin, Narcissa Malfoy, came to the conclusion that the Dark Lord had created anchors to tie him here in case his body was destroyed," Sirius replied, nose wrinkled in disgust.  "She had brought one of the anchors with her, and we discussed the types of magic that Voldemort would have had to use to create them.  We also worked out that he'd made more than one, and he'd used priceless artifacts to house these anchors.  Between the five of us, we were able to get rid of all of them, including the one that used to be in little Harry's forehead.  Once those anchors were gone, the Dark Lord was no more."

“Thank you, Mr. Black, for yours and your family's tireless work to keep us safe. Your witness.”

“Mr. Black, isn’t it true that you attempted to murder Severus Snape in your fifth year at Hogwarts?” Stabler asked, going straight for the jugular in an attempt to paint Sirius as wholly unsuitable to be any child’s guardian, never mind the Boy Who Lived’s.

“Objection,” the prosecutor intoned. “That line of questioning is completely irrelevant and prejudicial. What occurred before the birth of Harry James Lupin-Black has absolutely no relevance to these proceedings. There were no actual witnesses to the alleged murder attempt and no complaints or charges were ever filed.”

“Objection sustained,” Bones said. She looked at Stabler with censure in her eyes. “Please keep to relevant facts to the case at hand.”

“Mr. Black, what do you do for a living?” Stabler asked. He wore a permanent scowl since his gambit to make Black look bad had failed.

“I work as the History of Magic professor at Hogwarts,” the animagus replied a little smugly.

“So you’re saying that Albus Dumbledore hired you to be History of Magic professor?” Stabler asked incredulously.

“No, actually,” Sirius demurred with a smirk. “It was the School Board of Governors who instated both myself and Remus Black-Lupin as professors, since Albus couldn’t hang on to a decent defense professor and the history professor was a ghost. They took a look at the substandard scores over the last couple of decades since Dumbledore was made headmaster and were shocked and appalled at the dismal performances of the students in those two classes. Most barely passed either the defense or history OWL and NEWT, so they thought that perhaps they should be the ones to assign new teachers. They got rid of Trelawney and divination, and replaced it with Mystical Portents, taught by a real Seer.”

“Information has come to light that you were a rather vicious bully during your time at Hogwarts,” the defense attorney tried another tack. “Some sources say that you haven’t really grown out of that. How do you reconcile your bullying ways with being a good father?”

Sirius ducked his head in shame for a moment, eyes on his hands. “I wasn’t the best person while I was in Hogwarts,” he admitted with humiliation. “I was abused growing up as my mother tried to beat the proper Dark ideals into my head. I hated my family and Dark practitioners in general, so when I got to school, I decided to take my hatred of my family out on the Slytherins. Granted, a good many of them were going to follow their parents into the Dark Lord’s service, but that didn’t give me any right to make their lives harder than they already were.

“After graduation, Lily sent me to a Mind Healer friend of hers, and I’ve been seeing the counselor once a week ever since. She’s been helping me work through my abysmal childhood, and I’m so much better for it. So to answer your question, it’s because of the continuous therapy I’m receiving that I can be a good father now. I’ve made amends to those I’ve hurt so grievously and I was able to make them part of our ever growing family. Though I didn’t like who I was, I like who I’ve become now.”

“I have no more questions for this witness,” the defense attorney growled, stomping back to his clients’ table and sulking. Albus once again was hissing into the man’s ear, but it didn’t look like Stabler was paying attention to the old man.

“Very well,” Bones said with a smile. She turned to Branch and said, “Mr. Prosecutor, call your next witness.”

Chapter 12

Notes:

The inspiration for this chapter came from a conversation between Trickster32 and HeverusLives in the comment section of the previous chapter. Thanks a bunch, kids!

“I call Minerva McGonagall to the stand,” prosecutor Branch intoned. There were gasps in the courtroom as the deputy headmistress came from a chamber to the left of the Wizengamot bench. She glared daggers at Albus the entire way to the witness box, and Dumbledore leaned over and hissed frantically into his attorney’s ear.

“I object,” Stabler said as he slowly rose from his chair. He had the look of a man who wished to strangle his nagging wife as he stood there. “Her testimony has no relevance to these proceedings.”

“I haven’t even asked her a question yet,” Branch said slightly defensively. “There’s no testimony to which to object.”

“Objection overruled,” Bones said, looking at barrister Stabler with pity. “Please allow the prosecutor to ask some questions before you object to what she has to contribute.” Nodding, the defense attorney sat down, putting his hand up in front of Dumbledore’s face as he leaned in once again to micromanage the case. Stabler hissed something at the headmaster that had the old man flinching away from him and dropping his eyes to his hands, which were clasped together on the table in front of him. Whatever it was seemed to silence Dumbledore, and he remained quiet for the rest of the testimony.

“Please state your name and occupation for the record,” Branch intoned solemnly.

“Minerva Melanie McGonagall, and I am transfiguration professor and deputy headmistress of Hogwarts. I also hold the title of head of Gryffindor house.”

“Could you tell us about your time as transfiguration professor during the days of the ‘Marauders’?”

“I am ashamed to admit that at that time I bowed to Albus’ whims. I didn’t want to see the bad in any of my lions, so I turned a blind eye to the bullying that went on, perpetrated by James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Many’s a time that someone would come to me complaining about the cruelty of those pranks, and I just disregarded their feelings. It was mostly those from Slytherin house that complained, and I thought that they were just trying to get the boys into trouble. I couldn’t believe that anyone was as cruel as those boys were accused of being.

“After Sirius was made History of Magic professor, he willingly showed me the memories of that time, and it completely changed my view of him. I saw how entitled purebloods acted from observing the Slytherins, but my eyes were opened wide when I witnessed those memories. James Potter and Sirius Black were arrogant indulged bullies and I was complicit in their assaults on the students.

“I sat down with Black and discussed his unsavory habits and how they would affect Harry’s behavior. He quickly reassured me that he’d already spoken with his son about what he and the boy’s birth father had done in school, to which Harry responded by taking Sirius to task for his cruelty. I was so glad to hear that the boy was reflecting his mother’s values and personality so well. Lily was a lovely young woman who opened her heart and her arms to all who knew her, and it sounds like Harry will be following his mum’s ideals, thanks to Sirius Black.”

“So what you’re telling this courtroom is that Sirius Black grew up?” Branch clarified.

“I am,” Minerva said with a fond smile at the animagus. “He’s surprised even me with how mature he’s become.”

“You were with Albus Dumbledore in the headmaster's office when he planned to deposit Harry Potter on the doorstep of his muggle aunt and uncle; correct?”

“I was,” McGonagall replied softly, eyes on the hands fisted together in her lap.

“What was the conversation between the two of you?” Arthur queried.

“I told Albus that we couldn’t leave the boy there. I told him that Harry Potter had the Merlin-given right to grow up in the wizarding world; to learn of his heritage and his history. I told Albus that the Potters had named a godfather, and that it was his place to take care of little Harry.”

“What was the headmaster’s response?” Arthur asked softly.

“He said that Harry needed to grow up away from all of the adulation that he’d receive because of the defeat of He Who Must Not Be Named. He said that Harry had to learn to be humble and meek; that he needed to be the perfect representation of what a savior is supposed to be. He said that Harry had to be treated badly so that he would be willing and eager to sacrifice himself to save the wizarding world, as prophecy dictated.

“When I told the old man that he was barmy; that he was playing god with an innocent child’s life, he pooh-poohed my concerns. He said that he knew what was best for the wizarding world and for Harry Potter. That nothing and no one would stand in his way when it came time for Harry to perform his sacred duty and save the wizarding world. I tell you, he sounded mad as a hatter, and I feared for the child’s life.”

“He left to fetch Harry on Hallowe’en 1981,” Branch stated.

“He did,” McGonagall said with a small nod.

“What happened?”

“He came back to Hogwarts a few hours later,” Minerva replied. “I only knew because one of the house elves notified me. I was monitoring the Hallowe’en feast along with Severus and Pomona when the elf came to me and told me that the headmaster had returned. After the feast I went to his office. I wanted to check in with him and make sure that nothing untoward had happened. He was in a royal snit when I got there.

“He told me that Sirius Black had already retrieved Harry, and that Albus didn’t know where the child had been taken. Apparently Black had used an untraceable portkey to spirit his godson away, and though I showed the proper sympathy for Albus’ plans falling through, in my mind I was cheering and jumping for joy. I was glad that sweet, innocent little boy had escaped the Machiavellian machinations of the headmaster.”

“Do you think that Sirius Black’s guardianship and adoption of little Harry Lupin-Black is in any way detrimental to the child?” Branch asked his final question, smirking slightly at the reply.

“I do not,” McGonagall barked confidently. “Sirius and Remus have had Draco Malfoy and little Harry at the castle a couple of times a week so that they can get potions tutoring from Severus. I’ve seen them interacting on occasion with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and I can state categorically that Harry is happy and content. He’s a very well-adjusted child who has a family that dotes on him as they should. The boy is mannerly and considerate; kind to a fault and as friendly as any child at that age. Harry Lupin-Black could not be in better hands.”

“Your witness,” Branch intoned.

“I have no questions for this witness,” Elliot Stabler said as he briefly stood. Albus leaned toward his barrister, perhaps to say something, but the look of violence in the other man’s eyes sealed the old man’s lips shut. Molly and Arthur sat through the trial, struck silent by the facts being laid out before them, and realizing that perhaps they needed to distance themselves from the old man before they were dragged through the mud.

“I call Severus Snape to the stand,” the prosecutor said. Snape rose and strode with purpose to the witness stand. “Please state your full name and occupation for the record.”

“I am Severus Tobias Snape and I am potions professor and head of Slytherin house at Hogwarts,” the dour man replied softly.

“Is it true that you were once a Death Eater?” the barrister asked.

“I was,” Severus replied solemnly.

“You took the Mark willingly?” was the next question.

“I did,” was the answer.

“Could you tell us why?” Arthur queried, eyebrow arched.

“I grew up violently abused by my father,” the Potions Master said. Reporters were scribbling away, counting in their heads the galleons that these stories would earn. “I had not a single friend until I met Lily Evans, who later became Lily Potter. She was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, and she brought sunlight to my dark life. We attended Hogwarts together, and James Potter took an almost instant shine to her. He tried to ‘charm’ his way around her defenses, but it didn't seem to work. He saw me as a rival for Lily’s affections and I believe that's why he and Black had targeted me so viciously.

“Don't get me wrong; I'm not excusing their behavior toward me and the others in the least. I do, however, understand his motivations, because I loved her almost as much as he did. When he and his friends pulled that heinous, degrading prank on me during fifth year, I was embarrassed and ashamed at what it had revealed. Until then, almost no one knew of my horrible treatment. When Lily offered to help me, I lashed out at her in anger and humiliation, and I called her mudblood. I instantly regretted it, but the damage was already done. She turned away from me and left me vulnerable to the other Slytherins who had already tied themselves to Voldemort.

“Lucius took me to meet him, and Riddle made such sweet promises to me; promises of belonging; of being a part of something big. I took his Mark without a backward glance, and until that prophecy, I only looked forward. I believed that the Dark Lord had the right of it, and that the muggles and muggleborns were poisoning our world. I’d had such abysmal examples nearly my whole life, and I blinded myself to Riddle’s less savory plans; willing to ignore the elephant in the room for a place to belong.

“It was as I overheard that prophecy in the Hog’s Head and told Voldemort that I realized my mistake. He'd chosen Harry to go after, rather than the pureblood baby that was born just a day earlier. I guess he thought that a pureblood wouldn’t have the magical power to defeat him. He, himself was, after all, a halfblood and more magically powerful than any but Dumbledore. So he feared that another halfblood would be the child of prophecy, since Lily’s muggleborn status would have provided stronger magic in the child. I begged him to spare my best friend, and he told me he would. I didn’t really believe him, so I went to Dumbledore and begged for protection for her. He promised it to me, for a price. I was to renounce my loyalty to the Dark Lord and become Albus’ spy in the ranks. I was to swear an oath to always protect Harry Potter with my life. In essence I went from one slave bond to another.”

“So you changed sides when you found out who Voldemort targeted,” Arthur clarified.

“I did,” Severus responded with a nod.

“How did you come to be a part of Harry Lupin-Black’s extended family?” Branch asked.

“Lucius, Narcissa and Sirius had come up with a plan to gather all of Voldemort’s horcruxes and destroy them. Since I was more familiar with the monster than Lucius, being Voldemort's pet Potions Master, they asked for my help. Black apologized to me for the way he’d acted toward me in school, and I apologized for always trying to get them in trouble. We worked together to protect that precious little boy and I was welcomed into the fold with no questions asked. I became Harry’s uncle Sev.”

“What about your discomfort with Remus Lupin?” Branch asked carefully. “Did you still have trouble with that?”

“At first I did,” Severus confessed quietly. “I still remembered how Black had tried to murder me by method of werewolf at the end of our fifth year, and Lupin still made me incredibly nervous. But we all sat down and hashed it out, and Black had Harry release me from the life-debt I owed James. That had hung over my head for a great many years, and I was extremely grateful that Sirius saw how much that bothered me. While I accept that James grew up, I still have bad memories of the man, and I will never like him. I do, however, love his son very, very much and would do anything to see that child grow up safe and happy. He’s the better part of James Potter, and the shining beacon that was my best friend, Lily.”

Chapter 13

“And the others in your extended family?” the prosecutor asked. “The Malfoys? Are you sure that they would be suitable role-models for Harry Lupin-Black?”

“As soon as the last soul anchor of the Dark Lord's was destroyed, the Malfoys became the wonderful, loving people that they had been before his rise. Lucius was taken in by sweet promises the same way that I was. All we wanted is what Riddle preached; the protection of our people and the safety of our world. When he started turning his attentions to mixed-blood magicals, and especially children, that’s when we realized that we’d made a horrible mistake. Unfortunately, you don’t quit the Dark Lord’s forces. Your only way out is death, and we weren’t ready to die yet.

“Lucius is an excellent teacher and mentor, as is his wife. Between the two of them, both Harry and Draco are current with, not only their magical education, but their non-magical education as well. They’re learning maths, science, geography, history of both the muggle and magical world, reading, writing and social studies. They will be fully-rounded wizards, as we intend to see to it that their non-magical education continues on into their Hogwarts years.”

“I have no further questions,” Branch said as he looked at Stabler with a slight smirk.

“You say that you destroyed the soul anchors that kept Voldemort in a half-life state,” Elliot said as he approached the Potions Master. At the dark man’s nod, he continued. “Would it surprise you to learn that Harry Lupin-Black was also made a soul anchor? Would it further surprise you that Voldemort has a very real chance of returning because of the soul anchor located behind Harry’s signature scar? Albus Dumbledore’s attempts to move Harry James Lupin-Black to a safer location were fully justified, because if any of the surviving Death Eaters find out that the child is the key to resurrecting their master, they would not hesitate to abduct him and use him in all sorts of Dark rituals to get what they want. Why are you persecuting a man whose only goal is the protection of the wizarding world?”

“We were well aware of the bit of soul that used to be behind Harry’s scar as I had previously testified,” Severus ground out angrily. “Sirius Black has developed a high sensitivity to Dark magic because of the amounts to which he’d been exposed as a child. Once we got rid of all the rest of the anchors, he was still having an allergic reaction that centered around his close interactions with his son. Since the only ways to truly eliminate a soul anchor involve basilisk venom or fiendfyre, and since there’s never been recorded evidence of a living soul anchor, Sirius and Remus were distraught over the idea that they’d have to kill Harry to eradicate that last bit of soul, since the container in all actuality must be destroyed.

“I gave them a more workable idea when I suggested that we temporarily kill the child so that the soul can be released. Of course, Remus was rigidly against the idea, but when I explained it more fully, both men understood that it would be the only way to rid our baby of the soul piece and still allow him to survive. So I gave the little one a potion to stop his heart, and we waited for exactly three minutes. The soul shard left Harry’s scar with a wailing shriek before dissipating, and after a few more seconds to be sure, I gave him another potion that started his heart again. There is nothing of Voldemort left for him or anyone else to use to come back.”

“You murdered an eighteen month old baby?” Stabler asked, aghast. “With accomplices? And you think that makes you all suitable parents and guardians for Harry Lupin-Black?”

“We did what was necessary for the protection and safety of that child,” Snape snapped angrily. “It was done under very strictly controlled conditions and with a great amount of research to prevent any sort of brain damage. If Albus would have had his way, Harry would have grown up abused, neglected, starved and alone. He would have returned to the wizarding world so desperate to have someone acknowledge his existence that he would have done anything to make the other person happy. Since Albus intended to set himself up as the child’s own personal savior, Harry would have bent over backwards to do what Dumbledore wanted. That innocent boy would have become the perfect, willing sacrifice for people who didn’t know him, and wouldn’t care about him except as an icon upon whom to lay their hopes and fears.”

“How do you know he would have been treated so abhorrently?” the defense attorney asked roughly. “You don’t even know to whom he would have gone.”

“As you have heard Minerva testify, Albus was intending on Harry going to Petunia Evans. I do not know what her married name is, but I can tell you that she would have treated Harry horribly because of her hatred of her sister. I met Petunia when we were children; I was the one to tell Lily that she was a witch when I saw her doing some accidental magic in the park down the street. Petunia was a horrid bitch then. She was always calling Lily unnatural and a freak, and her words became even more venomous when Lily got her Hogwarts letter. Mr. and Mrs. Evans were so proud to have a witch in the family, and that just made Petunia feel even more inferior to her sister.

“I cannot imagine that she would have become more loving to our kind as she grew up; Lily would show me letters from her sister in first year, calling her all kinds of names and telling her that she wasn’t welcome amongst normal people. It created a rift between my best friend and the rest of her family because Lily put in every effort to keep peace, so she put up with every bit of abuse heaped upon her by Petunia. Lily’s harridan of a sister is most likely married to a muggle man, which would mean that Harry’s life there would have been even more fraught with danger, especially if they have children of their own. All that hatefulness would have been magnified between the two, and Harry would have been the innocent victim for their hatred.”

“Surely you don’t think that Mrs. Potter’s sister would really take out her animosity against Mrs. Potter on the dead woman’s son,” Stabler blurted incredulously.

“I know that Albus believes that family will always love family, no matter what, but Dumbledore doesn’t live in the real world,” Severus replied tiredly. “All of those sins he heaps upon the purebloods in the magical world; the ones where they abandon or banish squibs from their families so that the purebloods could appear ‘normal’; those are the same feelings that muggles have when children don’t live up to expectation. The only difference is that magicals don’t kill their children for being a little different; muggles do.”

“I have no further questions for this witness,” Barrister Stabler pouted as he returned to his table.

“The prosecution rests,” Arthur Branch intoned solemnly as Snape made his way back to his seat.

“Call your first witness, attorney Stabler,” Bones said after accepting the prosecuting attorney’s words.

“I call Albus Dumbledore to the stand,” Elliot said with a heavy sigh. He really, really didn’t want to give Branch an opportunity to cross-examine the old man, but he knew that he had no choice. The only thing he could do was direct the questioning in a way that it wouldn’t open up a door through which the prosecutor could waltz and shred Stabler’s defense. The headmaster made his way to the witness box, an arrogant smile on his face at the thought of finally being able to tell his side of things. “State your name and occupation for the record.”

“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,” the old man intoned solemnly and with a touch of pride. “I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Chief Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards.”

“It has been alleged here today that you attempted to kidnap Harry James Lupin-Black from his adopted parents. How do you respond to these charges?” Stabler asked. He was completely unprepared for what came out of the witness’ mouth.

“As soon as the Potters died, I was made magical guardian over little Harry,” the headmaster replied, startling looks of shock from everyone in the courtroom, including his attorney, who hadn't wanted this line of testimony brought up. “I felt it was prudent to place Harry with his mother’s squib sister in the muggle world. Petunia had been married for several years by this time, and they had a son that was Harry’s age. Being with his aunt would have ensured his safety, since I had intended to put blood wards around the muggle home, based on his mother's loving sacrifice and anchored to Harry’s and Petunia’s shared blood. The protections would have prevented anyone with malicious intent from getting to the boy whilst he was in the house.

“I still believe that, since I am his magical guardian, and with my reputation in the wizarding world, Harry would have been better off with his muggle relatives, far away from the magical world. My only intention was to see to the child’s safety, and it’s not with Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape or the Malfoys. If he continues to be exposed to those people, he will turn Dark and we will have another Voldemort on our hands.”

“You...ah...you know that you’re actually not his magical guardian,” Stabler said carefully as he walked the minefield in which he suddenly found himself. “Sirius Black was named godfather in the Potters’ wills, and that supersedes any claim that you might have to the child.”

“Nonsense,” Dumbledore scoffed. “I handed you the paperwork from the Ministry, solidifying my claim to Harry’s care, so that makes me the child’s legal custodian. I was merely exercising my rights to take control of the boy.”

“Objection,” Branch said as he slowly stood. “I have not seen this supposed document granting the defendant custody over Harry Lupin-Black.”

“Objection sustained,” Bones said, glaring at Stabler who had flushed under the scrutiny. “Since Barrister Stabler has failed to follow rule of law and disclose all the evidence he has in this case, we will take an hour break so that the prosecutor may familiarize himself with the documentation. Court is adjourned until one o’clock p.m.” She banged her gavel to set the ruling and the Wizengamot started to rise and stretch as the gallery began to empty. Elliot Stabler grudgingly walked the documents covering Albus’ claim as magical guardian over to Arthur Branch, who took them with a raised eyebrow.

“I do apologize for my lapse,” Stabler said sheepishly. “I didn’t intend to introduce this claim, since it wasn’t really valid. I never expected that he would bring it up, considering that I advised against it.”

“I don't intend to push for sanctions against you for this oversight,” Branch said kindly. “I’ve been around the Wizengamot for a lot of years, and Albus Dumbledore has been a pain in everyone’s arse for a very long time. I honestly do not envy you your position as his defense attorney.”

“Thanks, I think,” Stabler rejoined as he made his way out of the courtroom. Once he was gone, Branch turned his attention to the paperwork, a scowl working its way across his face the further he read.

“What is it?” Severus asked worriedly.

“This decree permitting Albus to claim himself as magical guardian to Harry Lupin-Black was signed by Minister Cornelius Fudge,” Arthur told the younger man softly. “This means that I need to pull the Minister into the trial, and it also means that he has to recuse himself from the Wizengamot, since it represents a conflict of interest.”

“That’s a good thing, though,” Snape entreated. “Right?”

“Since this paperwork shows that Fudge and Dumbledore are more than associates, removing the Minister from the Wizengamot will guarantee that the old man will receive some sort of punishment. The headmaster has some like-minded individuals that will argue for no sentence, but those are but a handful compared to the rest of the legal body. Fudge would have used his not inconsiderable power to sway the others to his way of thinking. So, yes, it’s a very good thing. Let me send a memo to the DMLE so that they can get a warrant for Fudge’s arrest pushed through the department. Hopefully, by the time I’m done cross-examining Dumbledore, Fudge will be sitting at the defense table, too.”

Chapter 14

Notes:

CharityLynn02 and yukina15 pointed out a bit of a continuity error in this chapter and I fixed it. I know I'm a little late acknowledging their assistance, but for some reason it didn't occur to me at the time. My apologies.

Ministry of Magic

Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister

Dear Minister Fudge,

You are recused from the Wizengamot for the trial against Albus Dumbledore due to a conflict of interest. As well, you are expected to attend the trial and present testimony to the facts relevant to the case. Should you not appear, a bench warrant will be issued for your arrest, and you will be dragged through the Atrium of the Ministry in magic suppressing handcuffs, in front of employees and visitors alike.

Sincerely,

Amelia Bones

Interim Chief Witch, Wizengamot

Ministry of Magic

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summons to testify before the Wizengamot

Cornelius Oswald Fudge

Mr. Fudge,

On or about the fifth of November 1981, you were approached by one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore to witness a writ granting Mr. Dumbledore approval to become Harry James Lupin-Black’s magical guardian, in spite of magically recognized wills from the parents of Harry James Lupin-Black stating the contrary. As you know, wills are the same as magical contracts, and violations of such codicils carry hefty fines and prison sentences.

You aided and abetted the attempted kidnapping of Harry James Lupin-Black from the destroyed cottage in Godric’s Hollow, which was his home for fifteen months, by granting Albus Dumbledore permission to take the child via a Ministry-sanctioned writ. That is also a crime, punishable by stripping you of your position as Minister of Magic and a prison sentence of no less than twenty years.

You are hereby served notice that you must appear before the Wizengamot to face these charges, your testimony added to the case against Albus Dumbledore, Molly Weasley and Arthur Weasley for attempted custodial interference and attempted kidnapping. You will present yourself before this legal body today at one o’clock p.m.

Don’t try to run, Cornelius. We will find you, and we will add attempted escape and attempted evading justice to your already existing charges. Come along peacefully and offer testimony, and we may be lenient with you.

Sincerely,

Rufus Scrimgeour, Head Auror

Department of Magical Law Enforcement

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“DOLORES!” Fudge bellowed, sweating profusely and staring down at the two letters he’d received from the legal department. The toad-like Senior Undersecretary burst into the room, staring in shock at the condition of the Minister as the rotund man quivered in his chair.

“Yes, Minister Fudge?” Umbridge asked, grimacing at the state of dishabille that the leader of the British magical world was displaying.

“What do you make of these?” the Minister asked, picking up a missive in each hand and flailing them about, making the parchments rattle ominously. Dolores stepped forward and took the pages from the fat man’s sweaty hands, grimacing at the grease stains left in the corners. She read them both carefully, brow furrowed in consternation.

“From the looks of it, one is a summons to court and the other is the letter notifying you of the summons to court,” Umbridge said effusively, smirking inside at the thought that she might be elevated in the Ministry sooner than expected.

“I know that,” Fudge barked loudly, making the simpering woman flinch back minutely in brief terror. “What I want to know is, what right do they have to kick me off of the Wizengamot and arrest me?! I’m the Minister of Magic, for Merlin’s sake! I have ultimate power and authority here! They’re supposed to obey me, not the other way around!”

“Um,” Umbridge said quietly, fighting hard to hide the glee that was overtaking her, “that’s not entirely true. The Wizengamot is the ultimate authority for the wizarding world. They make the laws and enforce the laws. No one in the British wizarding world is immune to their justice. Unfortunately, you’re set to stand trial for some rather serious charges. If I were you, I’d see about getting myself a really good defense attorney. You’re going to need it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“All rise,” Kingsley intoned solemnly as the participants and observers settled in their seats. A huge rustling sounded as everybody got back onto their feet, grumbling lowly at the inconvenience. “The honorable madam Amelia Bones presiding.” The Chief Witch gave every grousing person a glare from gimlet eyes, which effectively silenced the courtroom. Smirking slightly to herself, she took her seat first and waited for the other members to take their places. Once the Wizengamot was settled, she nodded to Shacklebolt. “You may be seated.”

“I see that Minister Fudge has heeded the summons and is sitting behind the defendants’ table,” she started, glaring slightly at the rotund man and making him exceedingly nervous. “You got here fairly quickly, and for that I thank you. Now, Albus Dumbledore, you may return to the witness stand to continue your testimony.” The old man rose from his seat and made his way to the witness box, his stomach roiling unpleasantly from nerves and the rather rich meal he had just ingested. “Copies of the documentation assigning Dumbledore as Harry James Lupin-Black’s magical guardian have been submitted to the bench. You may continue your presentation, Barrister Stabler.”

“Mr. Dumbledore, how do you know that the Dursleys would have been the best place for the child?” Elliot asked, steering clear of the issue of guardianship for the moment. “Lily Potter’s will categorically states that under no circumstances should her son go to her sister. What makes you think that you know what’s best for him?”

“Petunia Dursley was Lily Potter’s only sister. She had no other siblings, and the Evans’ were very close. Bennington and Summer Evans were very proud to have a witch in the family. According to Bennington, there hadn’t been a magical in their family for several generations. Petunia carried magical blood, but didn’t have a developed magical core, so she was excluded from Hogwarts. I will grant that there may have been some jealousy from Lily’s older sister, but they were sisters. They would have worked it out eventually.

“I didn’t think that Petunia’s venom would last all her life, nor did I believe that she would visit that poison upon her nephew. Family is most important, and I wanted Harry to be raised with his mother’s kin so that he could have a sense of history and belonging. As well, with the blood wards around the house, he would be safe from the vengeance of the free Death Eaters. It was for his own safety; for who would think that purebloods would ever go into the muggle world?”

“So you used blood magic to protect the child?” Stabler clarified. “Even though blood magic is illegal?”

“I informed Cornelius of what I had planned to do and he gave me permission to protect the Boy Who Lived.” There was a quiet squawk from the defense’s side that was quickly quashed. “Since my actions were sanctioned by the Minister, I broke no laws. Besides, I am Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. My word is law.”

“I...I have no further questions,” the defense attorney said in defeat. He had tried and tried and tried to get the man to rein in his arrogance and sense of entitlement to no avail. He only hoped that he would actually get paid for his efforts. He turned to the prosecutor with a grimace. “Your witness.”

“You do know that Harry James Lupin-Black would have been abused had you successfully placed him with his mother’s sister,” Arthur Branch intoned, his cockney accent a little thicker in his ire.

“Nonsense,” Albus replied with a negligent wave of his hand. “Petunia would have treated him as if he were her own.”

“And you know this, how?” the prosecutor asked skeptically.

“Because they’re family,” Dumbledore huffed impatiently. “It’s what family does. They take in other members of their family and treat them with the same regard with which they would expect to be treated.” Branch returned to the prosecutor’s table and picked up a sheaf of parchment, his eyes scanning them as he approached the witness again.

“I had requested that several people from the Wizarding Child Welfare office pay a visit to the Dursleys in the frequency of one a week. I have here the notes from each visit.” He looked down at the page on top and his eyebrows rose slowly as he read. “Female subject peered out of the window through the curtain when I knocked, and it took several minutes before she finally answered the door. I had attempted to dress like a muggle, but she was aware of the fact that I was a witch. Her immediate words to me were ‘What are you doing here, freak? Your kind does not belong in our nice, normal neighborhood. I suggest you push off before I call my husband to deal with your lot’. With that, she slammed the door in my face and left me standing there for quite some time. Additional attempts to get her to talk to me met with no success, and it was when her husband returned from work that I was successfully chased away from their property by a very large, obese man holding a shovel like he would beat me with it.”

He shifted to the next page in the pile and read from it. “I knocked at the subjects’ door, hoping that someone would be willing to speak with me in regards to what they thought of wizards and witches. After several long moments when I could hear movement within the domicile, a very fat boy finally answered the door. He glared at me and threatened to punch me in the nose if I didn’t leave their property immediately. I would have pulled my wand, but I was very aware of the Statute of Secrecy and I didn’t wish to face charges of violating it. I left, seeing as no one wished to speak with me.” He looked up at Dumbledore with a scowl. “So far it seems like the Dursleys would rather kill us as talk to us.” He shifted to the next one in the pile and recited the text written on it.

“I made sure to dress so that I appeared to be a wealthy muggle, and it seemed to work. I was admitted into the house and invited to sit and have some tea and biscuits. Petunia Dursley, while nothing much to look at, seemed to be open and friendly, and she appeared to dote on her rather overweight son. She bragged and bragged about him, and it was several minutes before I could begin my inquiries.

“My first question was about her deceased sister, and before I could get more than a few words out, her face morphed into something nearly demonic. ‘You’re here about those freaks!’ she had shrieked at me, standing and pointing at me as if I were a dog that had messed up her carpet. ‘I want you to go back to your freak city and tell the other freaks that we don’t want you here!’ I asked her about her sister’s son, and she hissed at me. She told me that she was glad that her worthless abomination of a sister was dead. She said that 'if that little bastard thinks he can come to my home and steal the food from our mouths, he had another think coming! I would sooner drown the thing than actually care for it!’ I got all the information I needed about the Dursleys’ characters, especially when the husband came home and threatened to call the muggle police if I didn’t leave their home at once. It is my professional opinion that, had Harry Potter been left here, he most likely would have been beaten to death before he reached the age of five.”

Branch handed the stack of reports up to Bones, who set it aside carefully as she watched the prosecutor as he went in for the kill. “That sounds like Harry James Lupin-Black would have been neglected at the least, and beaten to within an inch of his life at the worst. Are you still going to sit there and insist that he would have been better off with them? ”

“I stand by my opinion,” Dumbledore said arrogantly, long crooked nose in the air with smug superiority. “I have been around for over a century, and in that time I’ve learned about people from all walks of life. I know that Harry would have had some trouble, but he would have been loved and cared for simply because they are his family.”

“I submit that you wanted him abused,” Branch said softly, a sneer of epic proportions on his face. “You were going to put him with those people, knowing how they felt about magicals, so that they would...what? Toughen him up? Make him so desperate for any sort of kindness that he’d do whatever was asked to keep the affection and care? Become your pretty little puppet, dancing on its strings to the puppet master’s tune?”

“Objection,” Stabler said, though he really didn’t want to. His stomach churned at the disgusting lack of ordinary concern for a child. “Badgering the witness.”

“Objection sustained,” Bones replied reluctantly. “Please keep your interrogation civil.” Before the cross examination could continue, the old man doubled over, gripping his abdomen and groaning loudly. An explosive farting sound erupted from Dumbledore and a noxious wet odor permeated the courtroom, causing many people to flinch back in disgust. “It seems we need to take a recess until further notice,” the Chief Witch said, fighting not to vomit at the stench. “Shacklebolt, see that he gets to the DMLE infirmary and make sure that he’s shackled to the bed with magic suppressing cuffs. Court is adjourned.”

Chapter 15

It was a week before Dumbledore was well enough to continue the trial. He had been stricken with a rather virulent case of food poisoning, which left him wondering if the universe was out to get him. So he was sitting, once again, in the witness box, waiting for Arthur Branch to come down on his head. “What kind of compulsion spells did you use on Minister Fudge to get him to agree to signing off on your position as Harry Lupin-Black’s magical guardian?” Stabler was deep in a conversation with the Weasleys, though he kept one ear tuned to the cross-examination to make sure that his client’s interests were being protected. Since Fudge was now a party to the trial, Elliott knew he couldn’t object to this line of questioning, since it was relevant to the facts of the case.

“I did no such thing!” Dumbledore barked indignantly. “Cornelius and I have had a very fruitful professional relationship all these years. He knew that I would be the only choice to adequately mentor the Chosen One.”

“So if I were to ask Fudge if he was magically compelled to sign the document, he would deny it?” Branch asked archly.

“Of course he would,” Dumbledore barked, “because I didn’t do that.”

“We’ll see,” murmured Branch.

“Objection,” Stabler said as he leapt to his feet. “There’s no call for the prosecutor to add his own commentary to the proceedings. It could be prejudicial to my client’s right to a fair and impartial trial.”

“Sustained,” Bones said with a nod. She turned to Branch with mild censure in her eyes. “While it is entertaining to listen to you mumble, it may contribute to an unfair verdict. Please refrain from uttering any more asides.”

“Yes, madam,” Arthur agreed, chagrined. The cross-examination of this particular witness had the prosecutor’s temper up, and it was difficult not to lambaste the man for his schemes involving a child. Clearing his throat, he continued. “You have said that because you are Chief Warlock, it gives you the right to subvert the laws for your own gains.”

“Objection,” the defense attorney barked as he popped back up to his feet. “Assumes facts not in evidence.”

“That is incorrect, madam Bones,” Branch responded softly. “The witness himself said, and I quote, ‘I am Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. My word is law’. He had asserted that he is above the laws of the land in his own testimony, and I wish to explore that further.”

“Objection overruled,” Bones said, sending a sympathetic look to the defender. “Dumbledore opened up the door to this line of questioning by his own testimony. You may proceed, barrister Branch.”

“Thank you,” he replied before turning to the witness with a shark-like grin. “If you didn’t have such a lofty position on the Wizengamot, you would still subvert the law for your own gain. What makes you believe you are entitled to such privilege?”

“I am the defeater of the Dark Lord Grindelwald,” Dumbledore said arrogantly, long crooked nose in the air. “That act alone grants me privileges that no one else deserves. If I wished to enslave muggleborn women for my own pleasures, I would be able to do that simply because of who I am.” A swift, quiet murmuring in the gallery disrupted the trial for a moment as everyone watching expressed their shock, dismay, anger or approval of the headmaster’s words, depending on the side of the fence on which they sat. Reporters were scribbling madly; even Rita Skeeter was using a normal quill, since the trial itself presented material far juicier than even she could invent. Bones banged her gavel several times to regain order, and it was a few moments longer before total silence fell on the room.

“Let’s explore your ‘relationship’ with Grindelwald for a moment,” Branch said gleefully. He had been hoping to get the old man to put his foot in his mouth enough so that the investigations his staff had done could be admitted as evidence.

“Objection,” Stabler said tiredly as he, once again, leapt to his feet to defend his clearly insane client. “The questioning is not relevant to the case at hand.”

“I am still trying to establish a pattern of behavior,” Branch told Bones impatiently. “There are a lot of skeletons in Dumbledore’s closet, and some of them should see the light of day.”

“I will allow it,” Bones told the attorneys, “but don’t stray too far afield, Mr. Branch.”

“Thank you, madam,” the prosecutor replied with a slight smile. Turning to Dumbledore, he continued. “Isn’t it true that you had a closer relationship to Grindelwald than has been reported in the history books?”

“N-n-n,” Albus tried to deny, but the truth runes were too strong for him to circumvent. “Yes, it’s true,” the old man finally gasped out when the pain from the compulsions grew to be too much.

“Isn’t it also true that the both of you plotted for muggle domination?” Branch continued to flay the man.

“Yes,” Albus whispered in defeat. “Gellert and I thought that we could show the muggles that we were the superior race and have them be obedient to wizardkind.”

“And you thought that the muggles would...what? Roll over and take it?” the prosecuting attorney asked in disbelief.

“Naturally,” Dumbledore answered with a small grin. “We have magic, after all. Of course we’d be the superior species.”

“Your duel with Grindelwald occurred toward the end of a muggle world war, did it not?” Branch queried, still trying to wrap his mind around the complete obliviousness of the witness.

“It did,” Dumbledore concurred mildly.

“Did you not notice all the destruction around you?” the barrister questioned harshly. “Did you not notice the numerous dead muggle bodies and destroyed buildings? The ravaged landscape? How do you suppose that destruction occurred?”

“I figured that Gellert had been murdering muggles to hide the evidence of our own internal war,” Dumbledore responded with a shrug. “I saw the destruction and deaths as collateral damage to our might.”

“The destruction you witnessed wasn’t due to the stupid wizards’ war. It was caused by the weapons of mass destruction that the muggles had created. Massive cannons and tanks; automatic weapons and bombs. Poisoned gasses. The muggles outnumber us by a thousand to one, and they are some of the most vicious beings I’ve ever seen. They have technology that far outstrips our magic, and they have the numbers. The only thing your planned ‘muggle domination’ would have done was ensured our extinction.

“Now, why did you only imprison Grindelwald? Wouldn’t his treachery against wizardkind have earned him the dementor’s kiss?” Albus’ eyes widened in shock; he was sure that Gellert’s location was still hidden. Unbeknownst to him, the Austrian Ministry of Magic had taken down the protections around the prison and allowed Branch’s people to investigate the tower thoroughly. They discovered that Dumbledore had ensured that Grindelwald’s ‘accommodations’ were suitable for a sultan or a prince, rather than a prisoner.

“I believed that he would repent,” the old man said heavily. “I wanted to give him a chance to turn over a new leaf, as it were. Everyone, no matter how bad they are, deserves a second chance to make amends and turn their life around.”

“And yet you denied that very thing to Tom Riddle, didn’t you?” Branch accused quietly. “You convicted a child who had grown up in abject poverty and an abusive environment of being the next Dark Lord without even getting to know the child. Forget about second chances; you didn’t even give him a first chance.”

“Tom Riddle was evil incarnate,” the old man insisted softly. “He was irredeemable because of the way that the love potions his mother used to ensnare his muggle father had poisoned the man’s seed. Research has shown that children born as a product of love potions are fundamentally defective. They have no conscience; no capability for the finer, softer emotions. Tom Riddle was beyond saving.” Elliott Stabler flinched at the cold, matter-of-fact way that his client had testified to throwing a child away without even giving him a chance, and sighed heavily. He finally saw his client as a lost cause, and turned his entire attentions and efforts to the Weasleys, who had seen the folly of following Dumbledore and were now repentant and regretful of their actions against Harry Lupin-Black.

“I see,” Branch murmured, glaring at Albus with great hostility. “So you were all set to repeat your mistakes by sending Harry Lupin-Black to his abusive muggle relatives, and hoped that he turned out right? What would you have done, had the child returned to the wizarding world damaged?”

“Harry would have been redeemable because his parents loved him,” Dumbledore told the court. “They died to protect him, which means that the child would have been capable of expressing that same kind of love.”

“Other than Tom Riddle, how may abused children have you counseled?” Branch queried.

“I’ve never had the opportunity to counsel the children under my care at school,” the old man said with confusion.

“Did you talk to Riddle any more, outside your initial introduction and interview?” the prosecutor continued to guide the headmaster in the direction he wanted the old man to go.

“No, but I did keep an eye on the boy whilst he was in Hogwarts,” Albus admitted. “I knew that he would do something to damage the reputation of the school, and I wasn’t going to allow him to succeed.”

“Even though he’d never really done anything to justify those suspicions?” Branch asked curiously.

“He spoke parseltongue,” the old man said, as if that explained everything.

“And?” Arthur encouraged.

“And only Dark witches and wizards can speak parseltongue,” Dumbledore insisted, feeling vindicated.”

“That includes Salazar Slytherin,” Branch said with a frown, “one of the Founders of Hogwarts.”

“And look what happened with him,” Dumbledore crowed triumphantly. “He wanted to forbid muggleborns and halfbloods their magical education. When the other Founders overruled him, he wanted to eliminate the muggleborns from the school so he made plans toward that goal. When he was discovered bullying the muggleborns, the other Founders banished him from the castle.

“Tom Riddle was a right nasty piece of work who ended up killing an innocent muggleborn student. He held sway over Slytherin house because he was heir to Salazar. He encouraged violence against the non-purebloods in the school, in spite of the fact of his own lack of blood purity. He started inducting students into his ranks, with the ideas of muggle eradication and muggleborn annihilation the foundations of his beliefs. There was no saving him.”

“Tell me your observations of the students in the other houses,” Branch said quietly. Albus looked at the prosecutor in shock for a moment before he spoke.

“Gryffindor is the house of the loyal and brave,” he began with a fond smile. “They’re adventurous, caring and chivalrous; all of the most noble traits and they believe in doing what’s right. Ravenclaw is the house of the wise and intelligent. They’re creative, clever and crave knowledge; all of the traits necessary to strive for excellence, and they believe in doing what’s wise. Hufflepuff is full of hard-working dedicated students who value fair play, patience and loyalty. They believe in doing what’s nice. Slytherin is the house of the cunning and resourceful. They’re ambitious and intelligent; determined, but a little too prideful, and they believe in doing what’s necessary.”

“So you believe that the children who are sorted into these houses always express these qualities?” the prosecutor questioned in disbelief.

“I do,” the old man replied with certitude. “I’ve actually seen it in action.”

“And they can’t possibly express any of the traits of the other houses?” Branch asked, carefully guiding the witness into a specific direction.

“They might have traces of the other traits, but I’ve not seen evidence of it,” the headmaster responded thoughtfully.

“So, to your mind, people can only act in a specific way based upon the house into which they were sorted,” Arthur went in for the kill. “That their personalities are formed at birth, and that they never change, no matter the circumstances in which they were raised or how badly they’d been treated. As far as you’re concerned, there are only four personality types, and all people can be slotted into one or the other.”

“That has been my observation,” Dumbledore replied with confidence. “I’ve not seen anything to indicate differently.”

“How often do you come down from your lofty tower to intermingle with the lowly peasants that circulate in the halls of the school?” Branch asked sarcastically. Not recognizing the question for what it was, Albus answered honestly.

“My staff handles all of the day to day happenings in the school,” the witness replied. “I only come down for meals, special announcements or if I feel like walking the halls for a bit of nostalgia. The professors haven’t brought anything seriously egregious to my attention, so the school operates like a well-oiled machine.”

“That explains much,” Branch quipped. “No further questions.”

Chapter 16

“I call Cornelius Fudge to the stand,” Stabler intoned as soon as Dumbledore sat back down at the defense table. The attorney intended to carefully throw the soon-to-be ex-Minister under the bus with as much gusto as he could in an effort to mitigate some of his client’s less savory character flaws. Whimpering slightly, the portly man made his way up to the witness stand, his lime green bowler hat spinning round and round in his hands as he worried at the brim. His anxiety and fear could be felt all the way to the back of the gallery, and more than a few audience members felt a small kernel of pity for the torture under which their erstwhile leader of the British magical world would suffer. Once seated, Elliott approached the politician, looking at him as if he were a buffet laid out before a starving man. “State your name for the record,” the defense attorney barked, making the terrified man flinch back and squeak.

“C-Cornelius Os-Oswald F-Fudge, M-Minister of M-Magic,” the rotund man stuttered.

“Is it true that you take bribes from known Death Eaters?” Stabler snarled out his first question.

“Objection,” Branch intoned as he stood. “Assumes facts not in evidence.”

“I am establishing a pattern of behavior for this witness to ascertain whether or not he had outside influences when he witnessed the signing of the magical guardian contract,” the defender insisted heatedly.

“Nevertheless,” Arthur Branch rebutted, “these are accusations for which the Minister is not currently charged, nor is there any evidence to back the defense attorney’s claims.”

“Objection sustained,” Bones said, eyebrow cocked as it looked like Elliott Stabler would continue to protest. Subsiding grudgingly, the attorney took a different tack.

“From whom do you typically get your financial support for your political campaigns?” Stabler queried, eyes narrowed and shoulders tensed in anticipation of another interruption. He wasn’t disappointed.

“Objection,” Branch said once again. “Under law, political campaign contributions are a private matter. No politician can be forced to reveal the source of those contributions, nor the amount.”

“I am trying to establish that Cornelius Fudge has been receiving monies from a specific caste of our society so that those ‘contributors’ can gain political favors from the man. I cannot adequately defend my client if I’m to be hamstrung every time I present an alternate theory to my client’s behavior and actions.”

“As long as you keep any unfounded accusations of bribery or undue influence out of your questioning, I will allow it,” Amelia told Stabler, who nearly sagged in relief. “However, if you stray too far afield, or attempt to introduce, through a ‘back door’, accusations of misconduct or bribery to which you have no evidence, I will be forced to disallow any and all testimony relevant to those matters. Tread carefully, counselor.”

“Now, who usually funds your efforts to maintain your position?” Stabler reworded his query carefully.

“I...I get assistance from the Malfoys, the Abbotts, the Greengrasses, the Parkinsons, the Macmillans...You know, people who are willing to help me keep my post as Minister.”

“So you willingly accept contributions from known Death Eaters?” Stabler asked again.

“They were proven to be under the imperius during the first war,” Cornelius insisted heatedly. “Lucius Malfoy is a great man. He helped to permanently eradicate He Who Must Not Be Named, and appreciates how well I’ve performed my duties. He’s no more a Death Eater than you or I.” Fudge gained more confidence as he spoke, and his hat was finally released from its unjust punishment. Stabler winced for a moment, having forgotten that Lucius Malfoy did actually help banish the specter of Voldemort for good.

“What is the relationship between yourself and my client?” Elliot switched tactics, hoping to corner the Minister into confessing that it was on his insistence that the headmaster be permitted to protect the Boy Who Lived.

“Albus Dumbledore is an interfering old coot that needs to keep his long crooked nose out of Ministry matters,” the Minister barked harshly. The statement was wholly unexpected and the defense attorney opened his mouth to try and rein in the witness, but Fudge continued obliviously on, sealing the old man’s fate. “He’s bullied and browbeat many of the members of the Wizengamot into passing legislation that would see us extinct. He so desperately wants to merge the magical world with the muggle one that I fear for our future if he gets his way. He’s padded the Wizengamot with his supporters and sycophants so much that we can’t even get any sort of protective legislation passed.

“He’s constantly in my office, trying to tell me how to do my job! His suggestions for punishing criminals are so lenient that it’s no wonder the recidivism rate is so high! He makes every attempt to micromanage the DMLE and has stolen some of our best Aurors for his stupid, illegal vigilante group, which has interfered so much that we’ve lost evidence that would have seen violent, vicious criminals sentenced to Azkaban for life, or given the Kiss.

“His defeat of Grindelwald was decades ago, yet he still expects to be taken seriously and considered relevant based on that ancient battle. There’s not a single department in the Ministry, aside from the Department of Mysteries, in which Albus Dumbledore has not embedded his greedy, grasping, clawing fingers. Even some of the Unspeakables have been approached by the old man in an effort to gain control of the types of magics that they explore. Fortunately, they seem to have integrity, as well as a backbone, because they have been completely resistant to his attempts to butt into things of which he has no business investigating. I tell you, it’s a wonder we get anything done because of his interference.”

“Let’s...let’s turn to the paperwork you signed off on, granting my client permission to become Harry Lupin-Black’s magical guardian. Why did you agree to witness the document?” Stabler tried valiantly to switch the blame of the attempted custodial interference and attempted kidnapping onto the Minister. His efforts failed spectacularly, and contributed to Dumbledore’s guilt.

“I honestly don’t recall agreeing to, nor signing, any documentation that gave Dumbledore permission to become Heir-Lord Lupin-Black’s magical guardian,” Fudge stated with a frown. Because of the truth runes engraved into the witness box, the whole room knew that the Minister was being honest, as he knew it.

“Your signature is on those documents,” Elliott insisted heatedly. “How do you explain its presence?”

“I can’t,” Fudge replied with a shrug. “I don’t recall any visit to my office by Albus to discuss placement of the boy, so I have no idea how my signature got on those papers.”

“Nothing further,” Stabler snapped, turning and storming back to the defense table. Albus leaned over to try and talk to his attorney, but one look from the incensed man had the old wizard sealing his lips shut.

“If you cannot remember the meeting between the two of you, how do you suppose your signature appeared on those parchments?” Branch questioned as he walked toward the witness.

“Objection,” Stabler barked. “Calls for speculation.”

“I will reword my query,” Arthur said with a nod to Bones. “Do you have any way to find out what happened in your office on November fifth, 1981?”

“The Minister’s office was set up with an automatic recording orb,” Cornelius responded with a small smirk aimed at Dumbledore, “created by the Unspeakables, when Minister Wilhelmina Tuft was given alihosty-poisoned fudge in 1959 and died in office. There was suspicion that someone had deliberately executed her, but without any way of finding out, the manner of her death went unpunished. It was then that the Department of Mysteries decided to install recording orbs to catch all the minutiae of the Minister’s daily life in order to protect the office and catch any illegal activities.”

“How far back do the recordings go?” Branch asked eagerly.

“All the way to 1959, when Tuft’s successor was sworn into office,” the Minister said with a grin.

“I would like to request a recess so that I may subpoena the recordings surrounding November fifth, 1981,” Arthur said as he turned to Bones.

“I object,” Stabler barked furiously as he stood up. “Those recordings will represent an unfair disadvantage to my client, since I was unaware of them and have had no opportunity to examine them myself.”

“We will take a recess for two weeks, to allow both the defense and the prosecution the opportunity to examine this new evidence,” Amelia said reasonably. “Court is adjourned until two weeks hence.” She tapped her gavel and dismissed the audience and all involved parties before slowly standing and making her way out of the courtroom. Merlin, she thought churlishly, just when things couldn’t possibly get more ridiculously convoluted, we have to add this to the pile. If those recordings show what I suspect they’ll show, Albus’ wrinkled old arse is in a heap of trouble.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, there are recordings of all the Minister’s dealings?” Lucius asked nervously.

“Don’t worry, Lucius,” Sirius told the blond reassuringly. “The only interaction that the lawyers are concentrating on is the day that Albus went to the Minister to have him sign off on giving the old man magical guardian status over Harry. They won’t be permitted to see anything else that may have occurred in the office.”

“I...I know I did some rather underhanded things before the fall of the Dark Lord, so I don’t want those to ever see the light of day,” Malfoy admitted, shamefaced. “I know that my ‘campaign contributions’ were used to further Voldemort’s agenda, and I’ve since realized just how repugnant my actions actually were. I don’t want any of that to get out and possibly destroy all the effort we’ve put into repairing my reputation and standing in the wizarding world. I also don’t want Draco to suffer for my sins.”

“Since it looks like Minister Fudge is going to come out if this better than expected, I don’t see why you can’t talk to him and convince him to have those office interactions destroyed,” Severus told the elder Malfoy kindly. “They would not only reflect badly on you, but also on Fudge. I’m sure that he wouldn’t want that information to get out, so he’d be just as eager to get rid of the evidence as you are.”

“Speaking of,” Remus murmured, looking at Lucius curiously, “if those ‘contributions’ were actually payments to have votes swing the way you wanted, or to have specific laws pushed through the Wizengamot, then how can Fudge sit on the witness stand imbued with truth runes and not admit he was bribed?”

“It’s all down to the way that the questions were asked, Remy,” Sirius said with a cheeky grin. “Because Stabler was defending Albus, he had to be careful to phrase the queries in a way that wouldn’t implicate Dumbledore in any of the money that changed hands. I’m almost positive that the old man had paid for certain votes to go his way, and the defense attorney couldn’t have that sort of testimony introduced, since it would open the door for the prosecutor to pursue that line of questioning.

“So the defender tiptoed around the edges of calling it bribes, which, by the way, were unsubstantiated accusations to which the prosecutor objected, and that left Fudge to truthfully reply without implicating himself or the other ‘donors’ in any charges of bribery and malfeasance of office. As well, Fudge’s state of mind when those ‘contributions’ were given comes into play. He testified to the truth as he knew it. If the words ‘bribe’ or ‘kickback’ weren’t used, then the Minister can convince himself that they were, in fact, contributions.”

“That’s what makes the idea of truth serums and truth magic so unpredictable,” Severus added with a sneer. “Unless you know the specific questions to ask, the witness can tell you what they believe to be true, and have it accepted as fact. It takes a specially skilled interrogator to get the actual answers, and not those that the respondent believes to be actual fact. It’s something that all those in law enforcement, including barristers, are rigorously trained to do. It’s not easy for a lawyer to dance enough around the actual answers he wants to receive just to protect his client, but Stabler is one of the best.”

Chapter 17

Albus Dumbledore is seen entering the Minister’s office, a smile on his elderly face. “Hello, Cornelius,” he greets the other man bombastically. “I'm here to ask a favor of you.”

“What do you want, Dumbledore?” Fudge replies waspishly. “Can’t you see I’m busy? The Ministry is in a shambles because of You Know Who, and I’ve been trying to replace the Aurors who were killed in service to the wizarding world. On top of that, I have a dozen alleged Death Eater trials to sit through, so I don’t have time for your nonsense.”

“I'm sorry that you’ve been left with a rather large bit of work to do, but I must ask a favor of you,” the old man replies with a smarmy smile on his face. “You see, little Harry Potter will be in grave danger if he remains in the wizarding world. All of Voldemort’s men who weren’t captured could easily find the lad and end his life in revenge for their master. I need you to grant me magical guardian status over the boy so that I can ensure that he’s taken to a safe location.”

“Doesn’t he have a godfather?” Fudge queries, shocked into stillness by the headmaster’s request. “I’m sure that he’ll be quite safe behind ancient family wards.”

“I cannot trust that Sirius Black will have the toddler’s best interests at heart,” Albus tells the Minister with a false look of concern. “His family is, after all, very Dark and many of them were followers of Voldemort. I would hate to see anything happen to the child, and I fear that Black’s hereditary family madness would make him less than capable of adequately seeing to Harry’s welfare. The boy has living relatives on his mother’s side that would be more than happy to take him in, and he’d be protected by special wards around their home.”

“I didn’t know that Lily Potter had living relatives,” Fudge remarks in confusion. “I’d thought that her parents had passed before she graduated.”

“Alas, that is true,” Dumbledore admits, “but she did have an older sister who is now married and has a child of her own. That would be a most suitable, safe environment in which the Boy Who Lived could thrive.”

“Am I to gather that Lady Potter’s sister is a muggle?” the Minister questions harshly. "That would be the only way that I would not have heard of the woman." At the barely there nod, he continues. “You are well aware that magical orphans are required by law, if at all possible, to be taken in by wizarding families. Harry Potter has a wizarding godfather that takes precedence over any muggle family. He will be staying with Sirius Black, and that is final.”

“I’m afraid not,” the old man says as he pulls out his elder wand and points it at Cornelius’ head. “Imperio,” he hisses angrily. Fudge fights the spell for a few moments before his face slackens and his eyes go blank. “Now, Cornelius, you will give me the form granting me magical guardian status over Harry Potter and you will sign it as witness.” The Minister digs out a blank guardian contract and hands it to Albus, who quickly fills it out and hands it back to Fudge. The imperiused man signs and dates the form and gives it back to Dumbledore, who swiftly cancels the spell.

“Now just a damned minute,” Cornelius begins to bluster before, once again Dumbledore casts an obliviate at the man.

“You never saw me here,” Albus tells the portly gentleman. “I never came in to get a magical guardian contract. You’ve become suddenly dizzy due to the stress of the job and had to sit down for a few moments to clear your head.” Finished with the instructions, Dumbledore quickly leaves the Minister’s office before he regains his mind, and the encounter remains buried in Cornelius Fudge’s subconscious.

“Well,” Arthur Branch said softly, “it’s all there. The Minister refused to sign Harry Lupin-Black’s life over to Dumbledore and he cast an unforgivable in the Ministry. How was he not arrested and incarcerated for that?”

“He was using the elder wand,” Lucius intoned quietly. He had spoken with Unspeakable Alejandro Croaker to 'accidentally' erase all of the interactions between himself and Fudge. The Ministry employee couldn’t actually eradicate the recordings, but he did place the spheres with those meetings in a secure location deep within the Department of Mysteries. Each sphere was a day’s worth of recording, and each globe was stored in the Memory room. Lucius’ assignations with Fudge were hidden deep within the Hall of Prophecies, amongst ancient prognostications that had come to pass. A simple glamour charm and the new additions looked as if they’d been there for centuries. “As we all know from our history, that particular wand is extremely powerful, so it wouldn’t be much of a stretch that Albus was able to keep the unforgivable from registering.”

“We’ve got that old man committing a serious crime inside the Minister’s office, as well as the evidence that Fudge had not, in fact, voluntarily signed Harry Lupin-Black’s life over to Dumbledore,” the prosecutor murmured, eyes narrowed. “The trial will commence next week; I wonder how the defense is handling this bombshell.”

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“Un-fucking-believable,” Elliott Stabler said as he stared at the recording orb on his desk. He’d just finished watching the memory and he was livid. “It’s all there, in living color, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do to protect my client. A client that, for whatever fucked up reasons he has, is bound and determined to steal that child away from his parents and put him in a household that would abuse him. To what purpose? So that he can be seen as the mentor of the Boy Who Lived?” Stabler stared at his hands, which were clasped together on his desktop. “I’ll just wash my hands of Dumbledore’s defense,” he muttered as he rhythmically clenched and released his hands. “I still have two more people I must defend in this trial, and I think I might be able to mitigate some of their wrongheadedness about this whole situation. They appear to be rather ashamed of themselves and remorseful at what they’d nearly done in attempting to break up a loving family. Hopefully, admitting they’d made a mistake will mitigate most of their charges of custodial interference. I’ll just have to wait and see.”

In the holding cells of the Ministry, three people had vastly differing thoughts and ideas about what had occurred in court to that point. “I think things are going very well so far,” the headmaster murmured to himself. “I’m sure that the Wizengamot will understand my need to keep that child safe, and will grant me permission to take him away from Black and Lupin. If I point out to my attorney that the child had been infected with Remus’ werewolf blood, perhaps I can kill two birds with one stone and have him Kissed for breaking the law. I’ll mention that to him when he comes for his scheduled visit.”

In another cell a few doors down were a pair of worried, frightened and regretful parents. “Oh, Arthur,” Molly whimpered as she burrowed her face into his shoulder. They sat huddled together on the cot that was enlarged for their convenience, talking over all of the bombardas that they’d witnessed throughout the trial. “How could we not know that Harry was actually safer with Sirius than he would have been with Albus?”

“I don’t know, Mollywobbles,” the Weasley patriarch replied sadly. She gave a tremulous smile at the beloved nickname, then buried her head in his shoulder again, fighting off the tears that seemed to be ever-present since they were accused of being attempted kidnappers. “He didn’t seem this bad during the first war, and now that we’re completely safe for good, he’s gone off his nut. What I’m most in fear of is the fact that he’s been in that school, with our children, whilst still plotting the destruction of an innocent little boy. A boy whose greatest sin was surviving the attack on his parents, and the defeat of the monster who had murdered them.

“How many kids has he brainwashed with the Boy Who Lived mythos? How many of the students would have turned a blind eye to the headmaster’s manipulations of Harry? How many would have only seen the legend and ignored the child? If he’d gone to the Dursleys and had come to school abused, would anyone have even noticed, or would they have been blinded by his heroic image?”

“I’m sure that some of the professors would have noticed…” the Weasley matriarch felt the need to protest.

“I don’t think so,” Arthur refuted gently. “Minerva McGonagall is part of Albus’ Order of the Phoenix. She defers to him in all things because she believes in his wisdom and power. Flitwick, being part goblin, has an uneasy relationship with many in the school because of attitudes toward part-creature hybrids and blood politics. Sinistra, Vector, Babbling and Sprout are only focused on their particular fields and wouldn’t notice a bludger if it slammed into their faces. Severus would have taken after Harry because of his resemblance to James Potter. You well remember what Lily told us about James’ and Sirius’ behavior toward Snape throughout school, but especially during their fifth year. That child would have had almost no one to whom to turn for help or comfort. Dumbledore would have made sure of that.”

“But why?” Molly questioned a little desperately. “Why would he treat a child so abhorrently?”

“You heard him on the stand, love,” Arthur said with finality. “Harry was the prophecy child and he’d had a bit of He Who Must Not Be Named’s soul in that scar. Albus wanted the boy to grow up to be a human sacrifice on the alter of the Greater Good. What better way to do that than to completely crush, both psychologically and emotionally, the child’s will to live. Put him with abusers who were supposed to care for him and make him believe that life isn’t worth living.

“Rescue him from that horrible situation and make the child see you as his savior and mentor. Fill his head with so much negativity toward a specific Hogwarts house and make him reject people who could have taught him how to be a strong-willed independent thinker. Arrange it so that only certain people can get close to him and make him believe that he had no one else on whom to rely. I’ve no doubt that Albus Dumbledore plotted, planned, and engineered every aspect of that child’s life, and would have succeeded in creating a weapon against You Know Who, if Sirius hadn’t have gotten there first.”

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There was a tap on Amelia Bones’ door, and she looked up in surprise, eyes widening at who was on the other side. “Barrister Branch, should you be seeing me outside of court?” she asked.

“Some evidence has come to light, and I need to speak with you about it,” the prosecutor told the woman quietly. “May I come in?”

“You may, but I don’t know if it’s ethical to talk about an ongoing case without all parties present,” Amelia was forced to warn.

“Understood, and I have an affidavit from defense attorney Stabler permitting me to bring this matter to your attention,” Arthur said as he slid a parchment across the woman’s desk. She lifted it and read through it carefully, then activated a recording orb for the meeting.

“This is Department of Magical Law Enforcement Head Amelia Susan Bones, acting as temporary Chief Witch of the Wizengamot, here with prosecutor Arthur Branch. The date is December third, 1989. All right, Arthur, you may begin.”

“Both defense attorney Stabler and I have viewed the recording orb surrounding November fifth, 1981, and we can categorically say that Cornelius Fudge was completely unaware of witnessing the document granting Albus Dumbledore magical guardianship over Harry Lupin-Black. He was imperiused by Albus Dumbledore and forced to place his signature upon the document. Afterward, he was obliviated so that Albus Dumbledore could hide his crimes. Both defense attorney Stabler and I agree that Albus Dumbledore should be brought up on charges of using an Unforgivable in the Ministry, and especially in the Minister’s office. We are prepared to submit the recording orb as evidence.”

Chapter 18

“It’s been eight years since Dumbledore cast that Unforgivable at Cornelius,” Amelia told Arthur Branch solemnly. “Other than this orb, we have no other proof that he’d actually committed a crime that day, since the alert wards set to monitor such things apparently didn’t go off or record the offense. Without any other corroborating evidence, and with many in the Wizengamot still favoring the old man, as well as the age of the crime, I doubt we’ll get a conviction for it. It would be nice if we had witnesses to the crime, but Albus is a crafty man and would know how to cover his tracks.”

“I understand, madam Bones,” Branch muttered angrily. “Doesn’t mean I’m not still going to introduce this as evidence. I think we should keep this meeting between the three of us, so that Dumbledore can't come back later and complain of prosecutorial misconduct, or accuse you of judicial misconduct.”

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July 14, 1989

Black Manor

Rue Jules Guesde

Rosny-Sous-Bois, France

Greetings Sirius Black,

I understand that your son has been marked in the Book of Names for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That is a mistake. His mother, Lillian Rose Evans, was earmarked for the Tasmanian School of Magic, located in Hastings Cave, since she had High elven blood, which means that she inherited their gift for wild magic. We are the only school in the known wizarding world that teaches children how to control and use wild magic. His heritage makes it vitally important that he attend our school, so that he can get complete mastery over all aspects of his magic.

Lady Potter wanted to stay near her parents in Great Britain, which is why she turned down her slot here. However, because her gifts were passed to her son, it is imperative that he be trained here. We will provide housing for his family and anyone else who wishes to accompany him. Our school is very small and is located in Hastings Cave in Tasmania, one hundred and three kilometers south of Hobart in Berriedale. Please let us know as soon as possible whether this is agreeable with you. I know that it’s short notice, considering he is to attend Hogwarts in two years, but we had to wait to see if his wild magic would register with the monitoring equipment we have to help us find others of High Elven descent.

I eagerly await your decision.

Sincerely,

D’Ken Neramani

Headmaster, Tasmanian School of Magic

“Hey, Severus?” Sirius asked as he approached the Potions Master quietly. “Would you take a look at this and tell me what you think?” He handed the missive over and waited while the other man read it, ebon brows dropped down into a frown. He pinched his lip between the forefinger and thumb of his left hand as he re-read the letter a few more times to make sure that he had the gist of it.

“It’s obvious that Lily’s heritage would have required her to attend a school specifically geared to her needs,” Snape finally replied, looking at Sirius with troubled eyes. “That she didn’t means that she knew something that we didn’t at that time. Or, at least, she suspected something. Was there ever any time when she seemed to just know things?” Sirius’ grey eyes grew distant as he looked back on that time, brow furrowed in concentration. It took everything the potions professor had in him not to make some sort of snarky or sarcastic comment on the animagus’ level of intelligence as he watched the other man think. Finally Black’s eyes cleared, and there was a hint of knowledge in them when they met Severus’ ebon orbs.

“There were times when she would just say something out of the blue about a class, or something that happened between the houses that would actually come true, but we just brushed it off as her being obscenely observant. Now that I look back on those times, I’m realizing that some of those events she couldn’t possibly have known would happen because they were so far beyond the pale.” He paused for a moment, eyes wide. “Sooo, a Seer?”

“It would appear so, hence why she turned down her place at the Tasmanian school,” the ebon eyed man said after a few moments. “That might be something else we might have to explore with Harry later.”

“What do I do with this?” Black asked carefully; there was something off about the way that he was talking, but Severus couldn't put his finger on what it was. “I’d love for Harry to experience Hogwarts like his parents did, and I think he should be around more than just Draco for company. He needs to interact with children his own age, and he can't get a better magical education than at Hogwarts.”

“Albus wants your son’s power,” Severus stated baldly as he watched the other man carefully, the animagus flinching at the harsh words. “No amount of pointless nostalgia should ever risk that child’s life. If you’re too afraid, or too steeped in bygone days to do what’s right for that little boy, then I will.” Turning around, with robes swirling about his legs, the Potions Master stalked away to the den, Sirius scrambling to catch up, his own face set in a determined look as the thoughts of Hogwarts and Harry and Lily and James whispered through his mind, influencing him. He watched as Snape sat behind the desk and pulled out a sheet of parchment. The words were quickly scrawled across the page as he wrote the letter, finishing with a flourish and staring angrily at the animagus.

“What?” Sirius barked defensively. “I’m not going to sacrifice Harry’s life, but would it be so bad to let him attend Hogwarts for one year?”

“Yes it would,” a voice came from behind Black, startling a warbling scream out of the man as he leapt two feet into the air, coming down facing his mate, who had come up behind him. “You saw how Albus tried to take Harry in the potions lab, Padfoot. How can you think that he won’t try to snatch Harry away from us as our son walks through the halls of the school?”

“But he’ll be surrounded by friends and the other students, and we’ll be there to keep anything from happening to him,” Sirius insisted heatedly. “Besides, Dumbledore doesn't really want to hurt Harry. Not really.”

“How do you propose that we’ll be able to protect him when we’re in our classes, teaching?” Severus asked the grey eyed man incredulously, ebon eyes meeting amber over the animagus' shoulder, each man showing their mounting concern for Sirius. “We can’t be in a dozen places at once.”

“We’ll...we’ll put tracking charms on him and give him an unregistered portkey to here,” the animagus said guardedly. “We’ll set a house elf as a guard for him. We’ll...we’ll...I don’t know! I just want him to be closer to his parents! Is that so wrong?”

“How can I be closer to my parents if they’re dead, Dad?” the nine year old asked reasonably as he stepped into the office and looked at Sirius blankly. “By your justification, I’ve already seen where they went to school, since I’ve been going there to have potions tutoring since I was six. I’ve learned all about them as people from you, Papa and uncle Sev. What more do I need to know and how will going to Hogwarts give me that?”

“There are a lot of people there who knew your parents in a different way than Remus and I, pup,” Black told the nine year old softly, a fond smile on his face. “Some of the professors thought very highly of your mum and dad, and I’m sure that they’d be willing to share them with you. Hell, Albus knows quite a bit about your mum and dad, and I'm positive he'd be anxious to share what he knows with you.”

“The ones who matter already did, Dad,” the child insisted, eyes sparking with a combination of anger and fear, knowing that his father wouldn't be insisting on the child relating with Dumbledore unless he was confunded in some way. “I’ve talked to professor McGonagall and professor Flitwick about them, and madam Hooch told me about James’ prowess on a broom. Madam Pomfrey talked to me about Lily’s eagerness to help her in the infirmary. I know all I need to about them, so there’s no real reason for me to put myself in danger for a mere chance to learn something else about them.”

“But Harry,” Sirius started, but was interrupted before he could say anything else.

“What brought this on, Sirius?” Lucius questioned as he stepped into the room. Severus had flooed the Malfoy Lord and had asked him to come over, explaining all that they’d talked about before he arrived.

“I don’t know,” the animagus grumbled churlishly. “I just think that Harry should stay here and go to Hogwarts just like Lily and James did. Albus isn’t that bad, and I’m sure that he only has Harry’s best interests at heart.” Looks were exchanged behind the animagus’ back, and a stupefy rang out, felling the man instantly.

“I’ll read over the letter to see if there's anything else I need to add before sending it off,” Remus said as he stared down at his husband fearfully. “You call madam Pomfrey and see if she can figure out what Albus did to Sirius.”

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“I’ve brought the certifications from Gringotts, verifying the adoption of Harry James Potter to Sirius Lupin-Black and Remus Black-Lupin,” Elliott Stabler told his client tiredly as he set the paperwork on the conference table. As much as he wanted to drop his defense of Dumbledore, he had no choice. It would be a violation of the legal tenet to provide the best defense for his client as he was able. Dropping out now, when the trial was nearly complete, would result in sanctions against Stabler, as well as charges of inadequate legal counsel and could end in disbarment from his position as an attorney. “I must turn a copy of these over to the prosecutor, along with all of the information surrounding the adoption, including the names of the goblins who were present; the sorcerer and any witnesses provided for the ritual.”

“You must know that those beasts have no authority in wizarding matters,” Dumbledore said rather pompously. “The only thing they’re good for is handling our money, and even in that we keep a close, wary eye on them, for they cannot be trusted.” Stabler sighed heavily and scowled at his client angrily.

“That attitude will get you incarcerated,” he finally snapped, making the old man flinch back at the clear hostility. “I have tried and tried and tried to get it through your thick head that your arrogance is working against you. The more unsympathetic you appear, the more hostilely everyone will treat you. Could you please, for the love of Merlin, try not to radiate so much smug superiority?”

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Tasmanian School of Magic

Hastings Cave, Berriedale

Tasmania

Dear Headmaster Neramani,

Sirius Lupin-Black and Remus Black-Lupin would be delighted to send Harry James Lupin-Black to your fine institution. The revelation that their son has the gift for wild magic was a shocking one, but not too unexpected. His mother was one of their best friends during school, and she had magic so strong that it astonished many of us who attended Hogwarts with her. They didn’t know that it was actually wild magic, but seeing Harry’s reflexive protective response to threats, we all figured out what it was and from whom he’d inherited it.

Thank you for offering those of us involved with the little one's life the opportunity to be with him through his education. Remus Black-Lupin is quite skilled in defensive magics and has been employed at Hogwarts as their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Sirius Lupin-Black is their History of Magic professor, and I, Severus Snape, am a world renowned Potions Master. Accompanying them will be Harry’s bond mate, Draco Malfoy, along with his parents, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, as well as myself. Both boys will need the training, although not quite as intensively with Draco.

I am Remus John Black-Lupin, and I am a werewolf; I thought that I would let you know of my heritage up front. I’m not natural-born; I was turned when I was six years old. Both Sirius and I adopted Harry so that he couldn’t be taken away from us, and he has some of the creature traits that I possess, without the ability to transform or infect anyone else. As an added bonus, because of the adoption and the bit of Harry’s wild magic that melded with my core, I’m now able to control the transformation and have blended wolf with man. I tell you this to let you know of my condition and the blessings having Harry in my life afforded me.

If you have space for us in your staff, that would be lovely. If you don’t, that’s fine, too. Sirius’ family, as well as Lucius’ family, had invested quite a bit of money in a variety of enterprises, both muggle and magical, and don’t have to worry about finances. Severus would probably be happier apprenticing future Potions Masters and setting up his own apothecary. If you have any potions prodigies there, Severus would be more than happy to take them on, if that is the direction in which they wish to go.

I look forward to hearing from you, and hope that you send along all the information we require, as well as the list of required texts and equipment for Harry’s educational needs.

Sincerely,

Severus Tobias Snape

Remus John Black-Lupin

Chapter 19

“He almost seems as if he’s under a sort of hypnosis,” Poppy said after she had scanned Sirius for spells and potions. “Someone cast the animam regere spell at him and implanted suggestive commands to do whatever it took to convince all of you that your son needs to go to Albus. It’s a good thing you called me when you did; had you persisted in your refusals, he would have stolen the child away to quiet the voice.”

“Can you break it?” Severus asked worriedly.

“There’s a potion that will, for lack of a better term, wash away the foreign influence. Once the voice is silenced, Sirius’ magic will have a better chance of breaking the spell completely. I have the recipe for you, Severus, but be warned. You must keep him unconscious until you can give him the elixir, which will take two days to complete. If he awakens for any reason, the spell will drive him insane in its efforts to be completed.”

“I’ll have Dobby watch over him,” Lucius told everyone, grey eyes reflecting his own concern for his family. “He’ll be instructed to make sure that Sirius can’t awaken before that potion is finished.”

“Who in Dumbledore’s circle would know of such a spell, and be strong enough to subvert someone else’s mind?” Remus queried with a frown. “If he has people on the outside willing to assault us in order to get at Harry, we need to be prepared for that.”

“Only one person I know of that would have that sort of magical strength and has been friends with Albus for a very long time,” Severus finally opined softly. “Alistor Moody. He’s an Auror and is known to be able to fight off the imperius curse. He’s very strong magically and has survived several brutal attacks by the Dark Lord’s forces in the first war. He’s also completely trusted by the old man, and would follow his lead anywhere if it meant that he was fighting against the Dark Arts.”

“It does feel like Moody’s magic,” Poppy added firmly. “Traces of the man’s magic were left behind when he cast the curse, and I’ve been around that sour old man for long enough to recognize his signature. I just didn’t realize why it felt familiar until Severus mentioned the old Auror.”

“Thank you for all of your help, Poppy,” Severus murmured to the woman as he led her to the floo. “I don’t believe I need to impress upon you the importance of keeping your visit here a secret.” At her nod, he smiled, surprising the older woman with its friendliness. “We appreciate your discretion. I will see you at school soon.”

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“The one thing that I can’t figure out is how Dumbledore was able to lie about coercing the Minister whilst the truth runes were activated,” Branch mumbled to himself as he sat at his desk. In a week they would be continuing the trial; Arthur was intent on submitting the recording orb as evidence of the headmaster’s crimes, but he held out little hope that it would earn the old man a solid conviction, despite the use of an unforgivable. “There’s no way that he would have been able to suppress those memories, and the runes would have pulled that evidence from his mind and forced him to relay it. What am I missing?”

“You’re not taking into account that Albus may have removed those memories as soon as the meeting was over,” came a voice from the doorway, startling a high-pitched yelp from the prosecutor. Branch glared at his unexpected visitor impotently, knowing that his anger wouldn’t faze the other man in the slightest.

“What are you doing here, Unspeakable Croaker?” the barrister growled angrily.

“I stopped by to discuss the memory orb, but when I overheard your questions, I felt the need to assist you in this particular conundrum,” Saul Croaker said as he took the seat in front of Arthur’s desk. “It could very well be that Albus Dumbledore removed those memories as soon as he returned to Hogwarts, so that they couldn’t be used against him later, should the unthinkable happen. I’ve no doubt that there’s a pensieve hidden in the headmaster’s office, as well as several vials of memories of things that he’s done throughout his life that he wouldn’t want made public. I could offer testimony to the fact that Albus was able to circumvent the truth runes by the fact that the memories of the incident weren’t in his head at the time.”

“That would be quite useful, Saul,” Branch told the other man with a shark’s smile. “I’ll send you over to defense attorney Stabler’s office, so that you can tell him the same thing you told me. After all, I don’t want to be accused of prosecutorial misconduct for not providing all the evidence I have so that Elliott could mount an adequate defense.”

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“The potion is ready,” Severus said as he came up from the lab. The man had worked straight through and he was exhausted, but he was able to finish it just two days before the resumption of the trial. He handed it off to Lupin and collapsed on the couch in the living room, heaving a heavy sigh as he finally relaxed. Harry climbed up next to him and snuggled into the older man’s side worriedly.

“Are you okay, uncle Sev?” the child asked hesitantly. Snape’s arm wrapped around the little boy and pulled him into the older man’s lap, hugging him close as Severus buried his nose in the little one’s hair and inhaled deeply.

“I’ll be fine in a few hours, Harry,” the Potions Master replied quietly. “I spent the last forty-eight hours working on that potion so that it would be ready before we have to go back to court and I’m a bit knackered.”

“Why don’t you lay down on the couch and I’ll cuddle up next to you,” the little boy told his godfather gently. “I could do with a nap myself, and I wouldn’t mind it if you have a kip with me.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” the older man agreed with a small smile. He yawned deeply and slid sideways, adjusting himself until he was fully reclined on the sofa. Harry curled up next to him and almost instantly fell asleep. The last few days were stressful for the child; he’d been having nightmares of his dad stealing him away and giving him to the headmaster. The bad dreams devolved into visions of being chopped up and scattered to the four winds. Harry was never actually told why Dumbledore was so anxious to get ahold of him, so his imagination ran wild with gory scenario after gory scenario.

Two hours later, both of the raven haired boy’s fathers exited the bedroom, Sirius full of shame for his weakness, and both men were shocked to see Harry’s head laying on Severus’ shoulder as the man was stretched out on the couch on his back. Draco was sprawled across the top of the man, and both boys were facing each other, as if, even in sleep they were drawn to one another. “I guess even the kids were worried about my actions,” the animagus whispered sadly as they stared down at the picture the three beings made, cuddled up together. Remus summoned a quilt from another chair and gently draped it over the three before pulling Sirius from the room.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Remus said as they made their way to the kitchen. “You wouldn’t have felt Moody’s spell as it took hold. I suspect that it was cast at you at a time when we were in the Ministry for Dumbledore’s trial, and it took a while to break through your natural defenses.”

“Yeah, probably,” the animagus answered desultorily. “I’m still embarrassed that I could have been controlled so easily.”

“Do you remember anything of what we spoke about before you were rendered unconscious?” Remus queried cautiously.

“Vaguely,” Sirius affirmed slowly. “I remember something about another school and a letter, but beyond that, I couldn’t tell you.”

“Lily was supposed to go to an institute in Tasmania that specializes in teaching magicals with elven heritages how to handle their wild magic,” the werewolf told his mate softly. “She turned it down because of that Seer ability we suspected, but had never verified. She knew that someone very well respected was up to something, and that it had to do with her and her future husband, whomever that might have been, so she declined the invitation. She did, however, tell the directors that any children she had were to go to the academy.

“We received a letter from the Tasmanian School of Magic, informing us of Lily’s wish for Harry to go there so that his magic may be tamed under more controlled conditions. You and Severus were discussing it, and you seemed to be trying to talk him into letting Harry continue at Hogwarts. You were even speaking in support of Albus. I happened in during the conversation, and both Severus and I felt that there was something wrong with you. Sorry we had to stupefy you like that, but we couldn’t take the risk that you’d grab Harry and run off with him.”

“I understand, Remy, and I agree; what you did was for the well-being of our cub,” Black reassured the lycan gently. “And he definitely needs to go to that school, if only to keep him as far away from Dumbledore as we can get him.”

“That’s good to hear, love,” the wolf replied with a grin. “We might be able to get jobs with the school, and they’re offering lodgings if there are no employment opportunities immediately available. All of us are going: Severus, Lucius, Narcissa, the boys and us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“All rise,” Shacklebolt said as the Wizengamot entered the courtroom. “The criminal case against Albus Dumbledore, Molly Weasley and Arthur Weasley will now resume, Chief Witch Amelia Bones presiding.” The judicial body sat down before, with a nod to the bailiff, the audience was permitted to sit.

“Mr. Prosecutor, do you have anything else to present against Albus Dumbledore?” she asked, heaving a silent sigh of regret that the nightmare was far from over.

“I would like to offer this recording orb as evidence to exonerate Cornelius Oswald Fudge of attempted custodial interference and attempted kidnapping. The evidence will prove that Minister Fudge was under undue magical influence when he signed the forms granting permission to Albus Dumbledore to assume the role of Harry Lupin-Black’s magical guardian.”

“Barrister Stabler, do you have any objections to the inclusion of this evidence?” Bones asked the defense attorney.

“No, madam, I do not,” Elliott said as he stood. “I have provided the office of the DMLE a signed affidavit granting the prosecutor permission to submit the memory as evidence and absolving his office of any misconduct.”

“Thank you,” Amelia murmured as she nodded her head and held out her hand for the orb. “We will take a look at this at the conclusion of the testimony. Now,” she turned to the defense table with a small grimace, “does the defense have anything else to present?”

“The defense rests,” Stabler intoned. He didn’t feel the need to call either Weasley up to testify, knowing after speaking with them that they wished to separate themselves from the headmaster as much as they could.

“Very well,” the Chief Witch said with a tap of her gavel. “We will take a few moments to discuss a verdict and possible punishment.” A silencing dome went up around the Wizengamot as they watched the memory and began arguing the points of the case.

“I will do my best to see that you don’t serve any time in Azkaban,” he told the Weasleys quietly. Albus had been placed in the seat behind the table and next to Fudge so that Stabler could speak with the parents alone. While the defense attorney was otherwise occupied, Dumbledore took the opportunity to quickly speak with Cornelius.

“You know very well that you were a willing accomplice in making sure that Harry Potter was under my complete control,” the old man murmured to the Minister of Magic lowly. “Don’t think that you’ll be able to escape your culpability in this.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Dumbledore, and I’ll thank you to leave me alone,” Fudge snarled angrily. “The fact that you’d try to drag me into the middle of your ridiculous plots and plans only goes to show just how mentally unbalanced you truly are.”

“You’re making a grave mistake, Cornelius,” the old man rumbled threateningly. “Do not misunderstand me; should you somehow escape your culpability in this, I will make it my mission to see you brought so low that you will not even be able to reach the belly of a serpent. I still have allies within the Ministry that will do as I ask. This will be your only warning; betray me and you’ll wish for death.”

“We’ve reached a decision,” Amelia said as the dome came down. Her eyes were on Minister Fudge, and she noted the wide, terrified eyes and the sweat beading his brow and upper lip. Glancing to the old man and seeing a slightly smug look on his face, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “It is the decision of this court that Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is found guilty of custodial interference and attempted kidnapping. He is sentenced to spend ten years in the medium security level of Azkaban, after which he will be on probation for an additional ten years. He will be required to check in with the DMLE parole division every week and he will be required to have magical limiters placed on his person for the duration of his probation. Sentence to be carried out immediately. Court adjourned until one o’clock.”

Notes:

Animam regere is control the mind in Latin.

Chapter 20

Notes:

I had to make some changes to the end of this chapter; Akiyukio pointed out very rightly that I broke continuity. Earlier in the story I had Minerva giving the cloak to Sirius after Fawkes broke the protections on the cabinet in which it was hidden; in this chapter I had Tonks finding it in Albus' bedroom. So I had to make some adjustments so that the story maintained its continuous flow.

“All rise,” John Dawlish said. Kingsley had other matters to see to, so the younger Auror volunteered to be bailiff for the Weasleys’ trials. “Court is now in session. The honorable Augusta Longbottom presiding.” Amelia had requested a break after Dumbledore’s trial had finished, and everyone agreed that the beleaguered woman should sit this one out. She, too, had other matters to which to attend. Dowager Longbottom, having known the Weasleys the longest, was amenable to presiding over their hearings.

“Please be seated,” the no-nonsense voice of the Chief Witch murmured, gimlet eyes on the gallery. The audience had been chatting amongst themselves, speculating as to the reason that madam Bones had stepped aside. When that glare from those icy blue eyes fell upon them, they quieted as if the silencio had been cast. “We are now going to begin the hearings for Molly Elizabeth Weasley and Arthur Septimus Weasley. Barristers, make your opening statements.”

“At this time I would like to drop all charges against Molly and Arthur Weasley,” Branch said as he stood. Stabler stared at the prosecutor in shock; this hadn’t been brought to his attention and he was wholly unprepared for it. “I have investigated everything to do with the crimes Albus Dumbledore perpetrated against an orphaned child, and I have come to the conclusion that he was able, through his reputation as a hero, to con a great many people throughout the years into doing what he wanted, when he wanted. Because of the reverence much of the wizarding world has for Dumbledore, it was very easy for him to convince certain of his admirers to flaunt, or in some cases break laws for him, just so that he could engineer the outcome that would see him continuing to maintain his power and influence over the British wizarding world.

“Molly and Arthur Weasley had believed that Harry James Lupin-Black was in danger from the people who had surrounded him and cared for him, and they were only acting in what they perceived to be the best interests of the child. With everything that has come to light in this trial, and with discussions in which I had engaged them, with their attorney present, I feel that, though misguided, they were only doing what they felt was right in the defense of an orphaned little boy. Therefore, I believe that they should not be punished for stepping up to right what could have been a grievous wrong, had it been anyone else but the child’s parents. I have also spoken with Sirius Orion Lupin-Black and Remus John Black-Lupin, as well as Severus Snape and the Malfoys, and they all agree that the Weasleys were doing the right thing, even if it was for the wrong reasons.”

“Do you have anything to add, defense attorney Stabler?” Augusta asked, smiling slightly at the honor and integrity with which the plaintiffs were acting.

“N-no, madam Longbottom,” Elliott stammered happily. “I would like to thank the Lupin-Black family for asking that the charges be dismissed.”

“Very well,” the Chief Witch said with a tap of her gavel. “It is the decision of this court to dismiss all charges against Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Weasley. They are free to go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Arthur!” Elliot Stabler shouted as they walked through the hallways of the DMLE. The older lawyer turned and waited for his younger compatriot to catch up before they made their way to Branch’s office. Once inside, and with the door closed, the older man invited Stabler to sit and called for tea and biscuits. Once the refreshments were delivered, and after they had served themselves, Branch sat back in his chair and looked at the younger man thoughtfully. “Why?” Elliott asked softly. “Why did they ask to drop the charges? After all, they did have the Weasleys dead to rights.”

“Molly and Arthur Weasley are related to the Blacks, and through other marriages, to Harry Lupin-Black,” the prosecutor replied slowly. “Under different circumstances, they would have been well within their power to take the little boy in as his living magical relatives. It’s only through Dumbledore’s attempted interference that they’d gotten involved in the first place. Molly loves children, almost to distraction sometimes, and Dumbledore painted a picture of misuse, abuse and brainwashing that would have occurred to the child, which had her dander up. She believed that the child was in imminent danger, and didn’t care who she pissed off as long as she could ensure that the little tyke was safe.

“Because her sole focus was on protecting Harry, the Lupin-Blacks felt that neither she nor her husband should have been punished for trying to save the little boy from what Albus had termed torture. They understand how convincing and charismatic the old man is, and that he probably would have been able to persuade the Pope to fornicate with a centaur, given the chance. Between his grandfatherly demeanor and his excellent skills in mind magics, he would have used his talents to make them obey him, if he couldn’t sway them of the imminent peril under which the child’s life would have been. The Lupin-Blacks spoke to me about it just this morning, but because we had to start the Weasleys’ trial, I didn’t have time to talk to you about it.”

“I’m glad that they were willing to let it go,” Elliott said with a smile. “I’ve talked to Molly and Arthur throughout the hearing, and they never realized the depths to which Dumbledore would have sunk to get his hands on that little boy. They were appalled and ashamed of their complicity in attempting to rob him of his family.”

“I could see it in their eyes as the trial wore on,” Branch told the younger man kindly. “I've talked to some of the Auror guards that patrol the holding cells, and they told me that they’d heard conversations between the pair that indicated their deep remorse and guilt for almost being accomplices in breaking up a happy family. If the trial would have continued, their reputations would have been irreparably damaged, despite a not guilty verdict. Just the idea that they were tried for attempted kidnapping and custodial interference would have had them shunned for a very long time.”

“I’ll help them reclaim their honor and dignity as much as I can,” Stabler told the prosecutor earnestly. “I think I’ll start with that pest reporter, Skeeter. Perhaps I can work out a way to get rid of the menace once and for all.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We’re here to execute this search warrant,” Shacklebolt said. This was the reason that he’d missed the Weasley trial as bailiff; Amelia wanted the headmaster’s office gone through with a fine-toothed comb. Everything that was collected as evidence was to be marked as such, and the investigators had to wear latex gloves to prevent any magical signature crossover. Minerva stared at the writ in the former Order member’s hand, shocked at the thought that someone would go through Albus’ things. The shock turned to anger as she realized that she still found herself kowtowing to that old man, even after the spells had been eradicated.

“Of course,” she murmured as she opened the door wider. “Come in, gentlemen, and do your worst. His personal rooms are above the office; the access panel right behind the desk has a latch that you flip with your finger. I’ll just go down to the Great Hall and keep an eye on things.” She left with a spring in her step; glad for once that the interfering old bastard was finally where he belonged. She’d spent too long listening to the senile centenarian until she didn’t even know her own mind anymore.

“All right,” Kingsley said as his eyes narrowed on all of the moving mechanisms in the office. “Tonks, you’ll go upstairs and search through all the rooms that you can find. Leave no stone unturned and make sure to bag everything you feel is potential evidence. Auror Tutuola and I will look through everything down here.” He rounded the desk and sat in the headmaster’s chair, pulling out drawers and rifling through the paperwork inside. Meanwhile, Fin had made his way to the bookcases; examining all of the spinning, smoking, whirring thingamajigs that sat on the shelves.

“These are restricted artifacts, Kings,” the other dark-skinned Auror murmured, brown eyes on his superior and friend worriedly.

“In what way?” the bald officer asked as he read some of the plans that he’d found.

“They’re powered by the magic in the blood that’s used to track the whereabouts of whomever contributed the substance,” Odafin replied softly. “One is to establish the victim’s location, one is to keep tabs on the victim’s health and well-being and one is to monitor the imprisonment wards on a domicile. The ones that monitor the location and prevent the victim from leaving wherever the wards had been placed aren’t working.”

“Is the blood still in the containment spells on the objects?” Shacklebolt questioned with a frown.

“It is,” Tutuola confirmed with a snap to his voice.

“Collect the samples in separate containers and we’ll take them to the lab for analysis,” the senior Auror ordered. “I suspect I know to whom the blood belongs, but I want it tested, just in case. It’ll confirm what I’ve found in the old man’s desk.”

“What did you find, Kings?” came a feminine voice from behind the tall man. He yelped in surprise before turning a glare on the youngest Auror there. Grinning sheepishly, and with her hair fading to a mustard color in remorse, she ducked her head.

“It seems,” Shacklebolt replied with some heat, “that Albus had some plans for Harry Lupin-Black. There are notes in here about a variety of ‘tests’ to see if his upbringing had ‘trained’ him enough to be willing to sacrifice his life for the wizarding world.”

“I found some heir rings upstairs with the initials I.P. on the inside of the band,” Tonks told the head Auror, handing him a large, square jewelry box. "There's some rings with G.G. and O.B. as well.  Not sure who I.P. is, but I'm pretty sure that the others are Godric Gryffindor and Orion Black."

“Merlin,” Shacklebolt gasped, shocked. “I know why Albus wants Harry Lupin-Black so much now. He's hoping to use the boy's seats in the Wizengamot to amass more political power. He must have raided the cottage before we went there to process the crime scene. Only their bodies, their wands, and the pile of ash that was all that was left of He Who Must Not Be Named was there; we didn't have time to get a contents list for the cottage yet. Since Albus claimed magical guardian status, even though he didn’t have custody of the child, he was able to put the Potters’ wands and other heirlooms in their vaults, minus the heir rings. Let’s see if we can talk to Sirius or Remus; have them let us into the vaults to see if there's a listing of peerages available, and whether the rings matching the Lordships are still there. If I’m right, Dumbledore took the rings from the cottage either before they were killed, or just after.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Auror Alistor Moody, you are under arrest for magically assaulting Sirius Orion Lupin-Black,” said Amelia Bones. This was the purpose for recusing herself from the hearing; Sirius had been in touch with her about the animam regere curse that had been cast on him. It was a spell that only specialized Unspeakables were allowed to use.

“What bullshite is this, Amelia?” the battle-scarred Auror barked harshly, his fake eye spinning all around and seeing that he was trapped.

“You cast the animam regere curse on the Lord of a noble and ancient house,” she intoned angrily, “as well as aided and abetted in the attempted kidnapping of Harry Lupin-Black, and aided and abetted the custodial interference, on the orders of Albus Dumbledore, against Sirius and Remus Lupin-Black, by coercing Sirius Lupin-Black into handing his son over to Albus Dumbledore via the animam regere curse.”

“Where’s your proof that it was me?” Moody snarled, trying and failing to find a way to escape. They had cornered him in his office at the Ministry, and the anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards had been activated. He could feel the weight of the magic preventing his escape.

“Madam Pomfrey had examined Sirius and had found the Dark compulsion spell on him,” Bones answered the man. “She was able to collect a sample of the magical signature before it degraded, and she sent it over to our records department. They were able to match it with your signature, which is on file. You honestly know better, Alistor. You’re a man of the law, for Merlin’s sake.”

“Albus Dumbledore has had my loyalty ever since he defeated Grindelwald,” the paranoid man snapped angrily. “Because of his great service to our world, everyone should swear fealty to him.”

“He’s become a narcissistic overlord,” Bones told the battle-hardened man sadly. “Everything he’s doing now is to the detriment of our world. If we allow him to continue, he’ll destroy us. I’m just sorry that you’ve become the latest victim in his quest to engineer everything to his liking.”

Chapter 21

“I can’t stay here,” Albus muttered to himself. “I have very important things to do, and chief amongst them is training Harry Potter to fulfill his destiny and eradicate Voldemort. I need to figure out a way to escape without alerting the guards that I’m gone. The question is, how do I do that? I don’t have an animagus form; I’d always thought it such a worthless pursuit, but now I’m rethinking my stance on it. A golem wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility, but I’d need to get in touch with someone who would blindly obey my every command, as well as have the power required to construct and animate it. I cannot do that in here; the wards preventing any magic are too strong for me to overcome.

“Perhaps I can get in touch with my old friend Alistor. I know he’d be willing to help me out. We’d been through quite a journey together, and I know that he worships the ground upon which I walk, so it wouldn’t be too hard to convince him to make one for me and bring it here. Too bad I can’t do a wandless patronus; it would help out quite a bit in staving off the dementors’ influence, as well as provide me with a messenger.” So intent on trying to figure out a way to get out of Azkaban, his very thoughts contradicted themselves, providing yet another clue to his delusional, disordered mind. He paused for a moment, trying to remember something that was niggling at the back of his brain. Blue eyes widened as he recalled that Bartemius Crouch Sr. was able to sneak his son, Bartemius Crouch Jr., out of Azkaban by replacing the boy with his dying wife under polyjuice. Once she died in his form, she remained in his form and the death certificate was made out after the body was buried on the island.

“If I could convince one of my people to polyjuice themselves into me, I could escape here and continue the fight against Voldemort, as long as I regain control of my weapon. I might also be able to convince them to die, for the Greater Good of course, and then I'll be able to continue unhindered, since I will have been recorded as having died in this hellhole. Once the Dark Lord is dead, I can siphon off that incredible magic for myself, and put the boy with his muggle relatives to do with as they wished. Now, to figure out how I’m going to contact one of my people and get the ball rolling…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Uncle Severus?” nine year old Draco said as he came up to his godfather.

“Yes, Draco?” the older man replied absently as he carefully placed the belladonna in the cauldron.

“Harry’s been having some really nasty nightmares,” the blond told the Potions Master quietly, grey eyes troubled. It took a few moments before the words sank in, but then the dark head whipped around and he stared at the child, ebon eyes wide with worry.

“What do you mean, nasty nightmares?” Snape barked a little harshly, flushing with shame at the flinch his godson made. Speaking more quietly, he continued. “What nightmares? How long has he been having them?”

“I don’t know what they’re about,” the Malfoy heir responded, deeply concerned. “All I know is that I get these sort of flashes of pain and blood, and he wakes me up screaming.”

“How have we never heard these screams?” the older man questioned a little angrily.

“I...I think the house elves have put up silencing charms so that he doesn’t disturb anyone else,” Draco explained hesitantly. “It takes me a bit to get him to wake up, but when he does, it’s almost as if he’s forgotten what the nightmare was. He’s yelled at me a few times, denying that he’s screaming in his sleep, but when I played him a recording of it, he looks at me with wide, frightened eyes. It’s starting to wear on him, Uncle Sev; the not remembering what he’s been dreaming.”

“Thank you for telling me about this,” his godfather told the blond gently. “His parents and I will talk to him about it tonight after dinner.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Harry? Draco tells us that you’ve been having rather bad nightmares. Care to tell us about them?” Remus asked softly, looking at the raven haired child with amber eyes full of worry. With him were Severus, Sirius, Lucius and Narcissa. Draco had wanted to be there too, but the adults didn’t think he should witness his bondmate’s pain.

“I don’t really remember them,” the saffron-eyed boy told them quietly. “All I know is Draco shaking me awake and telling me that I’d been screaming.”

“Would it be all right if I went into your mind to see what troubles you so?” Severus queried carefully, not sure he wanted to see what his godson and honorary nephew was suffering a few nights a week.

“I...I guess so,” the child mumbled with a shrug of his shoulder, his eyes on the floor as he toed the rug. “I trust you, uncle Sev, so I don’t see any problem with it. If it helps me get over these nightmares, I’m all for it.”

“Very good, child,” Snape told the raven haired boy with quiet pride. “You’re so very brave. Now, sit next to me and stare into my eyes whilst I use legilimency to see if I can chase down those troubling dreams.” Ebon met amber as the pair stared deeply into each others’ eyes. The Potions Master intoned, “Legilimens,” and he found himself spiraling into his godson’s mind rather effortlessly. He floated around the fairly quiet space, noting the different file cabinets whose drawers were labeled with school work, homework, art projects, thoughts and feelings, but it was the drawer marked dreams at which he stopped. Very gently he pulled the drawer open, struggling with it a little as it seemed to be locked. “Let me in, baby,” he murmured softly. “I mean you no harm.”

The lock eventually released, and Snape was able to pull the drawer open, using his fingers to flick through the different files contained within. He smiled as he saw images of Harry and Draco flying professionally, and perceptions of an idealized adult Harry running an apothecary with his uncle Severus. Near the back was a folder that trembled and shook with fury, and he carefully removed it from the drawer. Opening it, he saw pictures of rage and hatred; of blood and death and torture. He saw a drawn out caricature of his own face, and that of Lucius’, twisted in agony with blood running in rivulets from their eyes and the corners of their mouths. The sense he got from the memories was of great evil and darkness, and he quickly slammed the cover shut, gripping the shuddering file tightly.

Taking a deep breath, he sent, I will be getting rid of this evil that haunts you. I will eradicate the ugly, horrifying feelings these memories of the soul piece contain and I will free you from the Dark Lord’s influence for good. He focused all of his magic into turning the file to dust; to remove the horrible psychological influence that the horcrux planted within Harry’s mind as it was torn from its safe place. Outside the battleground of the raven haired child’s mind, Severus glowed with an ethereal white light as he concentrated all of his love and happiness on the brutal memories that Voldemort thought he’d leave behind when he was exorcised. Once he’d finished, he did another look through the cabinet, checking to see if there were any other problem areas. Finding nothing but the usual childhood issues, he carefully backed out of his godson’s mind and canceled the spell.

“Apparently, Voldemort’s bit of soul decided to leave behind some of the more repulsive sins he’d committed before he killed the Potters and that was what was torturing Harry,” Snape reported a little tiredly. “I was able to focus all of my love and compassion for him on the imprints and they were destroyed. He shouldn’t have any more nightmares.”

“That...that might be why he came back to life screaming,” Padfoot suggested reasonably. Just the year before, they all had told Harry of what had happened when his parents were murdered, and what Voldemort had done to guarantee his longevity. They also told him about the bit of soul that was left behind in his scar and what they did to get rid of it. His response was to throw himself at his parents, uncles and aunt and express his gratitude through his tears.

“Living horcruxes are unprecedented,” Remus added with a frown. “Since there’s no information on such a thing, we don’t have any way to know if or how they might affect their host.”

“The good news is that the monster’s influence over our lives is completely gone,” Snape told everyone with a grin as Harry cuddled into his side. “The boys will be going to the Tasmanian School of Magic in two short years, and I’ve been contacted by their Board of Governors to set up potions apprenticeships for their graduating students.”

“That’s wonderful, Severus,” Narcissa gushed happily. “I’ve been asked to take care of the wizarding culture and traditions class, which I’ve gladly accepted.”

“I’m doing banking, finance, investments and political science,” Lucius intoned with playful arrogance.

“I’m doing magical creature studies,” Remus remarked with a shy smile. “I’ll be discussing the different magical creatures; their habitats, the construction of their societies, their rituals and customs.”

“I was able to score the advanced dueling and defense class, since I was an Auror before James and Lily were murdered,” Black finished the good news. “I’ve been told that they don’t differentiate between Dark and Light magic; that they’re all about defending yourself against any magic because, as we all know, any spell used in a different way than expected can harm or kill.”

“So you’re all going to be in the school with us?” Draco asked excitedly as he came into the room. He'd felt Harry's relief through the bond and knew that the adults had succeeded in helping his mate, so he wanted to be near the raven haired child to comfort him.

“We are,” Remus told the blond fondly. “With all of us gone, and our vaults and properties closed down to all but us, Dumbledore will be left scrambling as soon as he’s released from Azkaban.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How would you like to meet some new people, boys?” Sirius asked cheerfully. It was late June and Hogwarts had just finished their last classes, so everyone was home, enjoying the break.

“Where are we going, Dad?” Harry queried curiously.

“I thought to take you to meet the Weasleys,” the animagus replied with a grin. “After what we’d learned at the trial, we realized that they only had your safety and happiness in mind when they tried to take you away from us. I didn’t like, and still don’t like that they tried to do it without giving us the benefit of the doubt, but they realized their mistake when Albus testified and was sentenced to ten years in prison. I also contacted Kingsley Shacklebolt, my cousin Nymphadora Tonks, Odafin Tutuola, Amelia Bones and both Neville and Augusta Longbottom and asked them to meet us there.”

“Why so many people, uncle Sirius?” Draco inquired.

“Well, it’s because of Amelia Bones that Dumbledore wasn’t able to succeed in his quest to steal Harry from us, and Shacklebolt, Tutuola and Tonks went through his office and found more evidence of his misdeeds. Neville is your age, Harry, and he and his grandmother would like to meet you.”

“Just be aware that Arthur and Molly have a lot of children, so you might get run over,” Remus told the boys with a wry smile. “They’re rather rowdy, but they’re good kids with whom it’s very easy to get along.”

“How many kids do they have?” Harry questioned, not liking the mischievous glint in his dad’s eye.

“Seven, the last time I counted,” Lupin-Black said rather nonchalantly. He counted down in his head, and at one, both boys shrieked in unison.

“Seven?! How do they manage with so many?” Draco continued on his own.

“Molly’s always wanted a big family,” Lucius said fondly. The Malfoy-Weasley feud was begun centuries ago, and over something so petty as to be ridiculous. Once Arthur approached the blond after the trial and apologized for his and his wife’s efforts to steal Harry away, Lucius very graciously released their family from the feud, thereby opening avenues of conversation in the future. “She only had her twin brothers, Fabian and Gideon, and they died in the first war. She was nearly inconsolable before she married Arthur, and made it her life’s mission to be a stay at home mum and raise a big, rambunctious, loving family. I’d say she succeeded admirably.”

Chapter 22

“This is going to be short and sweet, Moody,” Bones barked. They were in a special session of the Wizengamot, trying to decide on what they needed to do about the retired Auror. Present were the judicial panel, Cornelius Fudge, Bones as petitioner and Shacklebolt and Tutuola as investigating Aurors. “We don’t feel it necessary to have a full trial for you, since the evidence we’ve gathered is sufficient for a conviction. Having said that, you will be sentenced to the medium security wing of Azkaban for ten years. After your discharge, you will be required to see a parole officer once a week for an additional ten years.”

“This isn’t right,” the scarred man barked angrily, magical eye spinning in his head in agitation. “You gave Albus a full trial. I demand a hearing as is my right under the laws of the Ministry.”

“Dumbledore had a trial because his crimes were numerous,” Fudge barked angrily. “Your single offense was the attempt to steal a child from his family. Just be grateful that we don’t put you with a constant dementor presence, as you would completely deserve it for what you tried to do.”

“Be happy, Moody,” Amelia chirped cheerfully. “You’ll be right next to your master. Take him away.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of the cell block gate opening had the old man’s head rising tiredly. Though there weren’t as many dementors on the floor as there were for the dangerous criminals, Dumbledore still felt gutted and wrung out every time one of the spectral guards drifted past his cell. Hearing the entrance of visitors, even if they were just the guards, cheered Albus up to an extent. He stepped up to the bars of his cell and watched, eyes widening in shock as he saw his oldest friend being dragged to the cell next to his. “Get in there,” the Auror guard barked as he practically threw the badly disfigured man into the cell and slammed the door. The guard turned and smirked at Albus, eyes glittering with hostility. “Brought you company,” he simpered with forced cheerfulness.

Once the guard left, Albus turned to the cell next to him, staring at Moody as he lay curled on the stone floor. The cells on the level which held the old man and his best friend were comprised of bars on three sides, with the stone wall at the back. One door at the front of the cell allowed ingress and egress, and contained a slot for the food trays, which were delivered by their dementor guards. The detainees received three square meals a day, consisting of a thin gruel, a block of hard cheese, some dried out bread and occasionally a bit of fruit. “What happened, old friend?” Dumbledore queried cautiously.

“I was convicted of using the animam regere curse on Black to make sure the boy attends Hogwarts,” Moody growled gruffly. “You and I had talked about that school in Tasmania, and the fact that the boy’s mum was supposed to go there, so I figured to close off that particular avenue to the child to make sure that he was in your sphere of influence like he’s supposed to be. Unfortunately, Black’s friends cottoned on to the fact that something was wrong and were able to dispel it. With the evidence of my involvement in casting the curse, I was tried in a closed session and sentenced.”

“You tried, Alistor,” Albus murmured sadly. “That’s all any of us can do at this point. It is unfortunate, though, that you’re here and not free. I was going to try and contact you to either create a golem to replace me here, or have one of our Order members polyjuice themselves to become me. It would have needed to be someone expendable, so that they could die during the transformation to lock it into place and permit me unrestricted freedom.”

“Why is Harry Potter so important, Albus?” the retired Auror finally asked. He’d been involved with the headmaster’s schemes for a very long time, and up until recently, he’d been on board the whole way. Now that Moody was in prison, and hearing the lengths to which his old friend would go to obtain a little boy, he was suddenly extremely wary. “He’s just a child; it’s not like he can actually do anything.”

“That child is the key to ending Voldemort’s reign when he returns,” Dumbledore told his friend heatedly. “He must be raised in such a way that he’d be willing to sacrifice his life for the wizarding world. Without the harsh treatment of his muggle relatives to ‘train’ him to be obedient and eager to please, our world will be lost when the Dark Lord comes back.”

“Voldemort’s gone,” Alistor vehemently told his soon-to-be ex-friend. “I saw the prophecy sphere when the Unspeakables brought it out for disposal. It was dark and cracked, which proves that it had been fulfilled, since the magic of the completion is what destroys the globe. He’s not coming back, and you need to comprehend that if you expect to be released from here. Now I understand why the Ministry went after me so hard, and as soon as I’m able, I’m going to apologize to the Lupin-Black family for my involvement in your madness.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“The Burrow, Molly Weasley,” Sirius barked after he had tossed in the floo powder. The flames turned green and he stuck his head in to find the Weasley matriarch standing in front of the fireplace, a wide, beaming smile on her face. “We’re ready to come through, Molly,” the animagus told her.

“Yes, please,” she replied, voice wobbling with suppressed emotion. She stood back and watched as the emerald flames spat out Sirius Lupin-Black first, followed by Remus Black-Lupin, then Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Harry Lupin-Black and finally Draco Malfoy. They shuffled their feet and waited with held breath for the redheaded woman to say something, and were totally taken by surprise when she darted forward and pulled Sirius into her arms.

“I am so sorry for what my husband and I tried to do to your family,” she whispered through her tears. Black awkwardly patted her on the back, looking at Remus rather desperately. Chuckling, he carefully disentangled Molly from his husband, smiling kindly at her as she stepped back, face red with embarrassment.

“Welcome to the Burrow,” Arthur said as he stepped into the living room; the only room big enough for the crowd that had exited from the floo. “Molly and I would like to thank you for understanding our intentions, if not our actions, and for allowing us to get to know your son.”

“The kids are out in the yard, if you want to join them,” Molly told Harry and Draco. “Go through the kitchen and out the back door and you’ll find them.” Nodding, they darted away excitedly, Narcissa following at a more sedate pace.

“I’ll just keep an eye on things; make sure that nothing gets out of hand,” she murmured as she exited the living room.

There was some awkward shuffling for a few moments before a voice from the stairs said, “Oh, for Merlin’s sake. You lot go outside and sit at the table out there and Bill and I will bring out the food.” Charlie finished descending the stairs, a grin on his face as he took in the uncomfortable expressions on his parents’ faces. “You need to talk to each other and get yourselves over this bump in the road if you want to continue any sort of friendly relationship. Now, shoo!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was moving on toward dusk, and the Weasleys had provided quite a sumptuous meal for everyone. The kids were running around the yard, trying to catch fireflies, the adults looking on with fond memories of their own efforts at capturing lightning in a bottle. A little shadow approached the table at which the adults were sitting, and Harry’s countenance became visible as the light hit it. There was an odd expression on the little boy’s face, and instantly Sirius, Remus, Lucius and Severus were concerned that perhaps one of the boys had done something unpleasant to the brunet or his blond mate.

“Harry?” Severus called out, startling the child out of his thoughts. “Is there something wrong?”

“I don’t want to say anything bad about anyone, but Ginevra makes me uncomfortable,” the boy answered as he climbed into Severus’ lap for a comforting cuddle.

“How is Ginny making you uncomfortable, Harry?” Arthur asked carefully, eyes narrowed on his wife, who had the grace to look a little ashamed.

“She keeps following me and staring at me,” the boy answered as he watched the other kids play. “See?” he yelped quietly. “There she is now, just standing and staring at me.”

“Ginevra, come over here please,” her dad intoned, anger barely held in check. Slowly the shadow moved closer, the little girl’s brown eyes staring at Harry unblinkingly.

“Yeah, Dad?” she responded, never taking her eyes off of the little boy hunkered down in the Potions Master’s lap, face buried in the man’s shoulder. The older man’s arms tightened more securely around the imp, making him feel safer.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you,” Arthur barked angrily, glaring for all he was worth at his wife, who had filled their daughter’s head with fanciful tales of the Boy Who Lived being her prince charming. The little girl’s head swiveled to her dad, and she flinched at the anger wreathing the generally kind face. “I am going to nip this in the bud right now. Harry Lupin-Black is not the Boy Who Lived. Lily Potter approached me after an Order meeting one evening and asked if there was any way I could get hold of some of my mum’s personal books; she was Cedrella Black-Weasley. I talked to her, and she gave me her personal grimoire for Lily to use. In it were half a dozen protective spells and rituals, and Lily found one and used it to protect her son.

“She had to sacrifice her own life after refusing to allow Voldemort to kill Harry three times. It was part of the magic of the ritual, which she must have activated with a bit of her blood just before the Dark Lord entered the nursery. The ritual, of which he wouldn’t have been aware, since Lily was a muggleborn, forced the confrontation to play out the way it did. The memories of that night were provided by the only living witness; Harry himself. In order to make sure that the Ministry knew without a doubt that Voldemort was gone, Severus pulled those buried memories from Harry’s subconscious and provided them to the Wizengamot, thereby closing the case of Voldemort forever, and ensuring that the truth of that night would be known.”

“Why...why haven’t we seen anything about that in the papers, Arthur?” Molly hesitantly asked. She wanted to give her daughter the fairy tale love that she’d been denied, and wasn’t too keen on letting go of the dream any time soon.

“Amelia Bones and Cornelius Fudge were going to keep that information under wraps until Harry attended Hogwarts. Then the papers worldwide would know of Lily Potter’s heroism in protecting her son and vanquishing the Dark Lord. Since Albus Dumbledore and Sybill Trelawney are the only ones who know the true prophecy, Bones was going to pull the prognostication from the woman’s mind and have it examined before being released to the press.” The Weasley patriarch turned to Sirius, eyes hard. “If you want to put a stop to all the craziness, I suggest you speak to madam Bones and get the ball rolling. Otherwise your little boy will be hounded and inundated with a ridiculous amount of mail.”

He turned back to his daughter, whose gaze had drifted back to Harry. “As for you, I want you to get every bit of Harry Potter garbage you have in your room, including the life-size dolls, and bring them out to the orchard. I intend to get rid of it, and if I see any more of that shite come into this house, you will be grounded from flying for two months.” He turned to his wife angrily, and she flinched back from his fury. “Don’t think I don’t know exactly who put that nonsense in her head. You will stop peddling those lies and deceptions to our daughter at once. If I catch you so much as get her a chocolate frog card with his picture, you will be sleeping in the shed until that ridiculousness is ceased. Leave the boy alone; he’s not now, nor will he ever be, Ginny’s knight in shining armor.”

Chapter 23

“Well, we’ve gone through all the evidence we collected from Albus’ office,” Kingsley told Amelia, a frown on his face. “What we found is a bit disheartening, and possibly illegal. It seems that he’d planned out a series of ‘tests’, for lack of a better term, to see if that little boy would be brave enough and selfless enough to be the proper ‘Savior’. He even had some spells that he’d looked up to make the muggles even more abusive to him than they probably would have been on their own. All to make a willing, eager, compliant puppet for him to control and direct.”

“Would we be able to use them against him?” Amelia Bones asked curiously.

“I don’t think so,” Shacklebolt responded softly. “At the moment, they’re only vague ideas and schemes. Unless and until he had acted on them, they’re just musings and hold no real weight as criminal acts. We can keep them filed away, and when he’s released from prison we can use them to create an outline to keep an eye on him; helped, of course, by his parole officer. Other than that, they’re pretty useless for now.”

“Send copies of the plans to Sirius, Remus, Severus and the Malfoys,” Bones ordered softly. “They should be kept apprised of everything that man has done and plans to do to their child.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the Auror said, snapping off a smart salute before leaving her office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Minerva approached me about becoming the next headmaster for Hogwarts,” Severus told everyone as soon as he got home. She had called him to the castle to talk to him about something important. He thought it might have been something to do with potions or the classrooms and labs, but when she dropped that bombshell, he gaped at her like a largemouth bass.

“Are you going to take it?” Sirius asked curiously, grinning gleefully at the still stunned Potions Master.

“I can’t,” Snape responded softly. “I’m to be the Master for the potions apprentices at the Tasmanian school. I’ve already tendered my resignation; the Education Department at the Ministry has it. When I explained this to Minerva, she looked so lost for a moment, before she put on a brave face and congratulated me. I hate disappointing that woman; she’s always been on my side since I started working there.”

“Would’ve been nice if she were on your side whilst you were a student, Severus,” Lucius remarked dryly. “Instead, she overlooked the abuses her lions perpetrated on a majority of the school, but especially Slytherins, and took the classic Dumbledore line of ‘it’s all a slight misunderstanding’.”

“He may have sorted Gryffindor, but he didn’t really uphold many of the ideals of the founder,” Sirius remarked with a grimace. “Actually, most of us sorted there didn’t. We’d always heard that the traits of a Gryffindor were bravery, chivalry and nerve, but what most of us displayed were arrogance, entitlement and an overblown sense of one’s importance. There's nothing chivalrous about abuse, after all. Because the majority of the British wizarding populace believed Godric Gryffindor was the greatest Founder of the four, that prominence was automatically granted to anyone sorted into the house of the lions, and undeservedly so.

“Though many students in Gryffindor pranked and bullied the other houses, none did it to such a devastating effect as the Marauders did. We developed casual cruelty into an art form, and wielded it like a weapon against anyone we didn’t like, anyone we perceived as weaker than us, or anyone who was on the wrong side of Albus ‘I’m greater than sliced bread’ Dumbledore. I can’t help but think that our behavior quite possibly drove other students into Voldemort’s arms, since they weren’t receiving any help from the staff of the school. It’s hard to believe in the goodness of someone, if that someone is sitting back and letting rampant assaults be committed without lifting a finger to help the victimized.”

“Unfortunately, Minnie was Albus’ best friend for many years,” Lupin contributed to the conversation with a shrug. “She apprenticed under him in transfiguration and achieved her mastery at his hand. She’s always believed in his shtick of the Greater Good without doing any sort of research into the phrase and how he came to use it.”

“What do you mean?” Lucius asked curiously, brow furrowed.

“Lily and Bathilda Bagshot got to know each other whilst the Potters lived in Godric’s Hollow,” Remus explained with a malicious smile. “Bagshot had told Lily that Gellert was her grand nephew, and that he and Albus had developed a relationship. Of course Harry’s mum didn’t believe the woman; thought she was dancing awfully close to senility. However, when I found the unsent letter to Sirius talking about that chat, I started looking into things, and I found a letter from Dumbledore to Grindelwald that explains so much.” At this point, Remus summoned a locked chest, pulling the key from underneath his shirt and opening the cedar box. He pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it to the blond, who read it aloud.

“Gellert -

“Your point about wizard dominance being FOR THE MUGGLES' OWN GOOD - this, I think, is the crucial point. Yes, we have been given power and yes, that power gives us the right to rule, but it also gives us responsibilities over the ruled. We must stress this point, it will be the foundation stone upon which we build. Where we are opposed, as we surely will be, this must be the basis of all our counterarguments. We seize control FOR THE GREATER GOOD. And from this it follows that where we meet resistance, we must use only the force that is necessary and no more. (This was your mistake at Durmstrang! But I do not complain, because if you had not been expelled, we would never have met.)”*

Lucius stared at the letter for a long time, the silence in the room sepulchral in tone. Finally, grey eyes lifted as he stared around at everyone present. “Do you realize what we have here? We have an opportunity to completely destroy his reputation at our fingertips! After this gets published, no one will follow that man to the ruddy bathroom!”

“We can’t use it,” Severus remarked, effectively killing the Malfoy patriarch’s joy. The older man turned to glare at his best friend angrily, the wind sucked from his fury with the next statement. “We don’t have any corroborating evidence to prove that the letter was penned by Albus, nor that he had any sort of relationship with Grindelwald. All we’ll do is look petty for presenting a fabricated letter and trying to kick a great man whilst he is down. Keep it under lock and key for the time being; we’ll revisit this at a later date, preferably after Harry and Draco have graduated from school and we’re able to get more evidence against him.”

At that moment, a Ministry owl sailed into the room, dropping a scroll on the floor and flying back out in a matter of moments. Scowling, Severus walked over to the missive and picked it up, breaking the wax seal and opening it. “Dear Sirius and Remus,” he read aloud, “Enclosed you will find some plans that Albus had made for your son when he was to attend Hogwarts. While they’re damning in and of themselves, they aren’t actionable simply because nothing has come of them. Had we found them after he’d set up one of the tests and Harry had gone through it, it would have been a different story. We’re keeping the originals in an ever-expanding file here, and have sent you copies so that you can be best prepared for whatever he wants to try when he’s released from Azkaban.

“I’m sorry that we can’t do anything else right now, but he actually hasn’t done anything to hurt Harry, other than the attempt by Moody to subvert the will of Sirius. Let us know if anything else occurs with which you need our help, and we’ll gladly be there. Good luck, and if you happen to come across anything that can help nail that old man’s nut sack to the wall, let us know. Sincerely, Amelia Bones, Head DMLE.”

“Should we send her a copy of the letter?” Sirius asked curiously. “If we point her in the right direction, she might be able to find information to which we’d have no access, and build a stronger case that way.”

“I’ll take it to her,” Lucius volunteered. “I’m heading into the Ministry to get my affairs in order and tender my resignation as prosecuting attorney for the law department. I’ll let her know that anything we find, we’ll share with her, in the hopes that she’ll be willing to reciprocate.”

"Tell her thanks for the additional information," Severus told the blond softly.  "Coupled with what Fawkes gave Phineas Nigellus Black, we should have more than enough to crucify that old man, should he try to manipulate things from inside Azkaban."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, this certainly puts things into perspective,” Bones said as she read the letter for the fourth time. “He’s hidden his affair with Grindelwald for a great many years, and only Gellert’s aunt has any information about it.”

“Rita Skeeter is an illegal beetle animagus,” Lucius told the woman suddenly as he flicked his wand in an unusual pattern. At Bones’ narrowed eyes, he explained. “I’m putting up a capture ward for any animagus that is illegally spying in the Ministry. If she’s present, she’ll be drawn to the trap and then…” At that moment, a loud shriek sounded as the woman reverted to her human form and fell from the ceiling, landing hard on her side and cracking a couple of ribs. Aurors pelted into the office, wands drawn and scowls on their faces.

“Arrest her and take her to the Ministry infirmary,” Bones barked out, eyes still wide. “Put magic suppressing cuffs on her so that she can’t escape. Make sure she’s under guard, because I have a few questions for her.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Auror Proudfoot replied with a sharp nod. Dawlish levitated the woman and they escorted her to the on-site hospital for treatment before taking her to a holding cell.

“Thank you, Lucius,” she sighed out, relieved that the leak they’d struggled with for several years was finally stoppered. “As I was saying, this will be put with the rest of the stuff we already have on file for the old man, and it’ll add to the charges, should any come about from this knowledge.”

"Here are some more plans that Fawkes gave to Sirius' great-great grandfather's portrait in the headmaster's office," Malfoy stated as he handed over a bundle of parchment. “The family and I would like to know if it would be possible for you to share whatever information you gather about the old man with us, and we will do the same for you. We figure that, if we both have the same information and one set should be compromised in any way, we’ll have a backup to make sure that we can finally nail that old man for the many, many grievous sins he’d committed against the wizarding world. To start, I think you should speak with Poppy Pomfrey. She has files on all of the abuse cases reported to her and to the former headmaster, that he completely ignored, which resulted in those children being sent back to their abusive environments. Some of those kids never came back to school after that.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea, and I'll be speaking with madam Pomfrey in a few days,” the DMLE head replied with a smile. “We’re going to miss your legal acumen around here, and your fierceness when fighting for what’s right. I don’t think I ever got the chance to thank you and yours for getting rid of the threat of Voldemort once and for all. I would have thanked you sooner, but with Albus in here every other day for the past eight and a half years, I’ve never had the time. And then with the trial taking up even more time… Just know that we are all very grateful to you, Narcissa, Sirius, Remus and Severus for finally freeing us of, not only Tom Riddle but Albus Dumbledore, as well.”

“We did it to protect our children from the threat of another war,” Lucius replied with a small smile. “Sirius, Remus and Severus were intent on making sure that Harry would never have to be a sacrifice on the altar of the Greater Good in his lifetime, and I wanted to keep my son from being sucked into becoming one of the Dark Lord’s minions. Though Tom Riddle had started out with brilliant ideas of how to help the wizarding world grow and prosper without exposing us to the muggles, the arcane black magics he used to ensure his permanence in the land of the living had twisted him up so badly that he became a caricature of a human being. It’s unfortunate that such a brilliant young man won’t be remembered for that, but will be remembered as an insane mass murderer. And all of that can be laid at the feet of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.”

Notes:

*From Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, written by J.K. Rowling. Published by Bloomsbury (UK) and Raincoast (US); released 21 July, 2007. I make no money from this story.

Chapter 24

Notes:

fschiff made a suggestion in the previous chapter and I've run with it. Thanks! Also, Pegasusgirl pointed out that I didn't cover why the others didn't show up at the dinner with the Weasleys when I initially posted the chapter, so I corrected that. Thanks for the reminder. And yes, I know these acknowledgements are late, and for that I apologize.

“How is she?” Amelia asked as she stepped into the Ministry infirmary. Skeeter was laid out on a cot, suppression cuffs on her wrists as she moaned in pain.

“She has a couple of cracked ribs and some bruising from the fall, but she’ll survive,” Healer Leonard McCoy replied, face in a permanent scowl. “She’ll be ready to move to Azkaban in a couple of hours.”

“Thanks, Healer McCoy,” the DMLE head replied with a grin, trying not to laugh at the horrified look on the other woman’s face. “I’d like to ask her a few questions for the case file I’ve started on her, if you don’t mind.”

“Be my guest,” the magical doctor intoned with a slight bow of his head.

He started out of the infirmary, but Bones stopped him with a question. “Do you think she got anything useful this time around?”

“Dammit, woman, I’m a Healer, not a reporter,” the man snapped before storming out of the room, Amelia’s chuckles following him out; Bones loved getting a rise out of the man. She looked at her prisoner for a few long speculative moments before taking a seat next to the bed.

“I have a proposal for you, but you need to do a couple of things, first,” she told the reporter, her tone brooking for no argument. Seeing that she had no real choice, Rita nodded slowly, eyes narrowed suspiciously behind her spectacles. “I’ve been given a rather interesting note, from Dumbledore to Grindelwald, that hints at a deeper relationship between the two. What I require from you before we go any further is an unbreakable vow and a mandatory registration of your animagus form. I think the deal I have in mind for you would be right up your alley, and could see you quite wealthy, if you play your cards right.”

“What...what kind of vow?” Skeeter queried hesitantly, heart beating triple time in excitement. As far as she knew, DMLE head Amelia Bones never made deals with any of her prisoners, so the animagus knew that this would be something spectacularly scandalous, and about her favorite subject, too.

“I want a vow on your magic and your life that everything you find out, you will turn in to the DMLE,” the stern woman replied firmly. “We are trying to collect as much damning evidence against Albus Dumbledore as we can, and your particular talent could get you into places to which no one else has access. In return, you will be the only reporter with whom we will discuss any progress. You will have exclusive rights to any and all interviews, meetings, and any other minutiae that occurs in the Ministry. You will also be at the forefront when we finally take Dumbledore down, and you will be rewarded handsomely for your efforts to protect our world from another despotic leader.

“We will meet when you submit any evidence, and we’ll discuss ways for you to slowly and carefully release certain bits of it. We’re trying to tarnish the old man’s golden image of the Leader of the Light and his presumed status as the reincarnation of Merlin himself. Of course, we’ll need to release corroborating information to a more respectable reporter as well, only so that our people can see that what you’ve written is the truth; no embellishment needed if the story is juicy enough. This will net you quite a bit of money, and it will cement your reputation as a reporter who sacrificed her safety and potential freedom to reveal the true evil that’s been rotting our neck of the magical world. So, what do you think? Are you willing to play ball with us? If not, I won’t have any problem charging you with treason, sedition, inciting unrest, malicious slander, illegal spying, trespassing with the intent to do harm to the Ministry… Need I go on?”

“N-no,” Skeeter stammered out, eyes wide behind her jeweled spectacles. “I agree to all of it. I’ll take the Vow and register my form as soon as the Healer says I’m good to go.”

“You’ll do it now, or not at all, and you’ll be sitting in a cell in Azkaban,” Bones countered harshly. “You think I’m stupid enough to give you time to escape?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amelia arrived at Hogwarts two days later with a contingent of Aurors, which included Kingsley Shacklebolt, Odafin Tutuola and Nymphadora Tonks. It was a Saturday, the end of the last week before the summer break, and students were milling about, staring at the officers as they strode through the hallways on their way to the Great Hall. They’d arrived just as lunch was about to be served, and Minerva’s eyes widened on the Ministry officials as they made their way to the head table. “We wish to speak with Poppy Pomfrey,” Fin announced quietly. The mediwitch stood up immediately and led the contingent to her infirmary. Bones had notified the nurse-practitioner that she and some of her Aurors would be there around noon.

Once in the hospital wing, she went directly to a hidden file cabinet, where she pulled open a drawer and drew out several very thick folders, stuffed with parchment. “Have a seat while I organize these by year. It’ll only take a few moments.” The Aurors sat down whilst the DMLE head paced around the infirmary, looking at the cots and surroundings with fondness.

“I have those potions you needed, Poppy,” Severus said as he sailed through the doors, Harry and Draco following behind and each carrying a box full of elixirs. Since the headmaster had been arrested and incarcerated, Severus felt it was safe to allow the children to visit the school with he and their parents more frequently. Often since Minerva took over, the adults stayed at the castle over the weekend, the kids sleeping over either in Severus’ quarters or Sirius’ quarters. It gave Harry and Draco the opportunity to see the castle and visit with the students, since they wouldn’t be attending when they turned eleven. The boys stopped dead for a moment, eyeing the Aurors cautiously before they sidestepped toward their godfather, trembling slightly at the sight of so many adults in the infirmary.

“Hello,” Kingsley said as he crouched down to their level, to appear less intimidating. “My name is Kingsley Shacklebolt, and with me are Odafin Tutuola, Nymphadora Tonks, John Dawlish and Donovan Savage. We’re Aurors, and we’re here to get more information against Albus Dumbledore.”

“Kingsley, maybe you shouldn’t be telling the kids that,” Amelia remarked reprovingly. “This is, after all, supposed to be confidential.”

“We’re here to make sure that the former headmaster doesn’t harm these particular children,” the dark-skinned Auror replied with a frown at his superior. “I’m sure that they’ve been quite informed about everything that’s happened so far, and I see no harm in keeping them up to date about the case.”

“Thank you, Kingsley,” Severus told the bald man with a grateful smile. “We don’t treat our children like they’re unintelligent beings.” He turned to Bones, dark eyes inscrutable. “If you wish for us to continue our cooperation with your department in taking Albus out of the picture permanently, then you’ll have to deal with the fact that our sons will also be well-informed. They need to be prepared for the time that Albus is paroled, and may come back into their lives, and I’ll not risk their safety for your insistence on confidentiality.”

“Fair enough,” Odafin contributed with a glance at his superior, who sported a scowl. “As the muggles say, forewarned is forearmed.”

"We told the boys that they were to meet you lot at the Weasleys for dinner the other night," the Potions Master remarked as Odafin entertained Harry and Draco with muggle sleight of hand tricks.  "Yet you weren't there.  What happened?"

"Between Skeeter's arrest and her time spent in the Ministry infirmary, as well as the issues with Moody's attempts to steal your godson, we just plain forgot," Amelia replied sheepishly.  "We didn't mean to stand you lot up, but I can cheerfully say that we actually got a spy out of the deal.  Skeeter's going to use her now legal animagus skills to get into places we can't and gather more evidence against Albus.  We've managed to convince the animagus registration board to keep her form under wraps, so that we can maintain the advantage."

"Ah," Snape sighed in understanding.  "Molly received a note from Augusta, telling her that Neville and his grandmother wouldn't be able to make dinner either.  Apparently she had a prior commitment that she couldn't ignore, and it was switched to that night.  I'm just glad that the boys were able to meet you and your officers now; that way they'll know who to trust and who's working to protect them."

“Here we are,” Poppy chirped, disrupting the conversation rather easily. “For what it’s worth, I agree with Severus,” she continued as she handed the files to Bones. “The boys need to know all they can about what’s going on, as it pertains to them, but most specifically to Harry. How can they protect themselves if they’re kept in the dark? Anyway, those files are of students who came to me about abusive homes, and were ignored. The previous mediwizard, a John Dolittle, if I’m not mistaken, started that file when Albus became transfiguration professor. He began to notice that headmaster Dippet stopped allowing him to report the incidences of abuse to the Wizarding Child Welfare Office, and when he went to complain about it, he was informed that Albus Dumbledore had reassured the man that no abuse was present. When Dolittle asked how professor Dumbledore knew, he was told that Albus had spoken to the parents, and that the ‘misunderstanding’ was cleared up. Several of those children never returned to school, and when I took over in the nineteen sixties, I went to the muggle world to investigate the cases and the claims. I found out that many of those children had been beaten to death, and others were permanently damaged, either physically or mentally, and could no longer attend Hogwarts.

“He’d done the same thing to me during his tenure as headmaster, and I kept careful notes of all the injuries, what the children had told me, and my own investigations into the matters. You’ll find death certificates and muggle police investigations in those files, along with photographic evidence. When children turn up dead at the hands of their caretakers, the forensic pathologists take extensive notes of the injuries, which include the pictures. I’m going to warn you now, those photographs are heartbreaking, and I hope that they can help you crucify Albus Dumbledore for what he’s facilitated for those poor kids by his own arrogance and ignorance.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rita entered the Hogs Head tavern in Hogsmeade, looking around cautiously to make sure that there wasn’t anyone who would recognize her and possibly assault her for one of her old articles. Seeing the pub nearly empty, she heaved a silent sigh of relief and approached the bar, setting her quick quotes quill on the top and sitting on the stool behind her. With her feet on the foot rail, she leaned forward and waited patiently for Aberforth to make an appearance. It took several moments, but he finally came out front, standing behind the bar and glaring at the animagus belligerently. “What are you doing here?” he growled gruffly as he polished the wooden surface with a dirty rag.

“I’ve come to ask you some questions about your brother,” she replied with a slight grin, knowing that there was absolutely no love lost between Albus and his younger brother.

“Why?” Aberforth barked, leaning on the countertop and getting into Skeeter’s face. She leaned back slightly, nose wrinkling at the sour breath that came out of the man’s mouth. “No one’s ever cared to ask questions before. Why now?”

“As you’ve probably heard, your brother was arrested and is now in Azkaban for the next ten years,” the beetle animagus replied carefully. “Unfortunately, I was caught skulking around the Ministry in my animagus form, which was unregistered at the time, and DMLE head Bones and I came to an understanding. You see, she’s quite intent on stringing Albus Dumbledore up by his thumbs, but doesn’t have enough yet to destroy him. She offered me a deal; I gather as much factual dirt on him as possible, and I get first crack at the articles and future book deal. Of course, I’m not permitted to write anything about it until we have more than enough evidence against him, and I’m to release the stories very gradually. Bones hopes to destroy his pristine Leader of the Light image quite completely before she moves in on incarcerating him, or getting him the Kiss.”

“What has my brother done to earn time in Azkaban?” Aberforth queried with a slight grin. “Not that he doesn’t deserve it for what he’s done to our family,” was grumbled under his breath, but Rita caught it anyway and the quill jotted it down. She ensured that her quick quotes quill would only write her conversations with potential witnesses verbatim; she didn’t want to die trying to exercise her particular brand of yellow journalism, after all.

“Custodial interference and attempted kidnapping, for starters,” Skeeter told the old man gleefully. “He refuses to believe that Voldemort is forever gone from our lives, and has attempted on numerous occasions to try and ‘collect’ Harry Lupin-Black from his parents. He’s also filed false claims with the Wizarding Child Welfare Office, stating that Sirius Black had stolen his son from his mother’s only remaining relatives. That Black had no real right to the child, since he wasn’t actually a living blood relative.”

“That seems to mesh with the Albus with whom I’ve grown up,” Aberforth murmured thoughtfully. “All right,” he finally said after long moments of silence. “Settle in, and I’ll tell you all about the wonderful Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.”

Chapter 25

Notes:

fschiff suggested that someone talk to Aberforth, so I've continued the plot I'd started in the previous chapter.

August 17, 1989

Daily Prophet

DUMBLEDORE’S BROTHER SPILLS ALL!

The true story of the Leader of the Light!

Rita Skeeter, reporter

Because of all of the legal issues that our revered elder statesman has faced, lo these past several months, I thought I would go to the source; namely Aberforth Aaron Dumbledore. As you, my gentle readers, all know, Aberforth Dumbledore owns the Hogs Head tavern in Hogsmeade, where he serves the less polished, more criminal element of our world, and he’s been privy to a great many secrets and scandals. Being this close to his elder brother’s main living space, we are quite sure that he must have a unique perspective on the man and the myth. I found him to be honest and forthright, as well as blunt to the point of embarrassment in some instances as he spoke about his childhood with the ‘greatest wizard alive’. Some of this story is quite heartbreaking, but I’m sure that, by the end of it, you will have a much better understanding of the man to whom we’d granted nearly unlimited power, just because of his alleged accomplishments. Of course, this interview isn't the whole of Albus Dumbledore's many secrets, but it will serve as a launching point for the history books. Let us begin.

RS: I am so glad that you’re willing to discuss your brother with me, and I hope that, through you, we of the British wizarding world may gain a better understanding for our vaunted Leader of the Light.

AAD: Honestly, I was wondering what took you so long to contact me. I’ve been sitting in this bar since nineteen oh four, when Albus decided that he wanted to teach at Hogwarts. Make no mistake; my brother was a brilliant, powerful and driven young man, and some indiscretions in his youth forced him to hide behind the scenes for a time. That’s the only reason that he took up the positions of transfiguration teacher and professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts.

RS: What indiscretions, if I may be so bold?

AAD: His first was that dalliance he had with Gellert Graves Grindelwald, when he was eighteen and Grindelwald sixteen. Our neighbor, Bathilda Bagshot, was Grindelwald’s great aunt, and the Dark Lord had been expelled from Durmstrang, so he came to Godric’s Hollow to stay with her. At this point, Ariana had accidentally killed our mother, and Albus was supposed to take care of her. Of course, he was quite resentful of the responsibility, because it interfered with his world tour with Elphias Doge, and I couldn’t take care of her because I hadn’t finished school yet. Into the gap came Grindelwald, and Albie fell hard for the young man.

Did you know that Gellert and my brother were planning world domination? (My shock must have shown on my face, because Aberforth gave me a wry grin and continued.) It’s true. They would sit in the orchard and plan how they would achieve dominion over the muggles. They believed that, because we have magic, we are the more powerful, far superior species of human. Because Albus spent so much time with the future Nazi collaborator, Ariana’s health and mental stability began to worsen. I was left to tend to her needs, but the summer break was fast coming to an end and I had to return to school.

So, I confronted my brother and his boyfriend, and a duel broke out. I had angered Albie by accusing him of being selfish and neglectful. It was two against one for a few moments, and I was very much in fear for my life. Ariana heard the fight and came out to investigate. Seeing my brother and I going at each other frightened her very badly, and her magic slipped out of her tenuous control. Unfortunately, it went after the one thing that our sister felt was the cause of our disagreement, and someone flung a cutting curse at her. It took her in the neck, killing her instantly. In the confusion of my sister’s murder, Grindelwald made good his escape, and Albus and I were left to pick up the pieces.

I blame Albie for Ariana’s death. He may or may not have thrown the curse that killed her, but he was the one to bring that megalomaniacal bastard into our lives. Anyway, I thought after Grindelwald did a runner that my brother would put all of that world domination shite behind him. For a little while, he did, becoming professor at the school and guiding young minds. That became a different sort of power for him, and he reveled in creating his own private army. He tirelessly worked behind the scenes at the school, creating and encouraging the divide between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Here’s a little-known fact for you; Albus was sorted into Gryffindor but he was a hat stall, and he told me in confidence that he’d had to argue with it to be placed in Godric’s house. He was initially supposed to go to Slytherin, just like me, but he didn’t want to appear anything less than lily-white and righteous.

RS: You mean to tell our readers that Albus Dumbledore was supposed to be a Slytherin?!

AAD: Indeed. At eleven, he wanted to be seen as good and brave, and Godric’s house was allegedly supposed to encourage those traits. He wanted to break the mold that most of the Dumbledore family fell into. Many of our ancestors were Slytherins, including Father, but Albie was ashamed of Dad’s incarceration in Azkaban and subsequent death there. I think that Percival Dumbledore was justified in what he’d done to those muggle boys; after all, they’d beaten and traumatized my sister so badly that she lost control of her magic. They made her afraid of her power, and her efforts to get rid of it drove her mad. Dad was only defending the family, and he was punished for it because it was muggles that had attacked her. Had they been wizards, Father would have been praised.

RS: So you support the pureblood ideals against muggleborns? You agree that we should take control over muggles as the ‘superior species’?

AAD: Of course not. I believe that the Statute of Secrecy should be upheld and strengthened. I believe we should be educating our people of exactly how dangerous muggles can be. I believe that we should remain separate from them, and I categorically believe that we should work toward creating a space for ourselves that’s as far away from the muggle populations as we can get.

Listen, muggles outnumber us by a thousand to one, and they’ve developed ways to kill hundreds of people in one go. If there was anything Grindelwald’s history should have taught us, it should have been that we dare not mess with the muggles. But try telling Albus that. He still believes that we should rule over the muggles; that we could be the benevolent guides by which the muggles would live, work and grow. He hasn’t stepped outside the wizarding world since his separation from, and eventual defeat of, his paramour. He has no earthly idea of the progress the mundanes have made since nineteen forty-five, nor has he any comprehension of the sheer numbers of muggles that live and work outside our borders. He is so enamored of the muggles and sees them as...pets, for lack of a better term, that he makes Arthur Weasley look like a bigot.

RS: What could Dumbledore have gained by creating a rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin?

AAD: He wants to have ‘soldiers of the Light’ to fight against the ‘forces of evil’. Did you know that he created Lord Voldemort? (I was stunned at this revelation, and all I could do was numbly shake my head in the negative.) It’s true. Tom Marvolo Riddle was born in an orphanage to a near-squib woman, the last of the Gaunt line. He was left in that orphanage, abused and terrified of the muggle bombers who strafed London every day. He grew up in abject poverty, surrounded by bullies and deadly diseases.

When Albus went to the boy to give him his Hogwarts letter, my brother made a snap decision about the child, based on what the matron had said about Tom, as well as his self-absorbed belief that he ‘understood’ people. He chose to believe that a frightened, abused little boy was evil incarnate, and when the child was sorted into Slytherin, that just solidified Albus’ belief that the child was Dark.

RS: How do you know this?

AAD: Albus talks a lot when he’s in his cups. He told me about Riddle whilst he was still a professor, and he continued to talk about the boy when Tom graduated from Hogwarts. Albus seemed almost obsessed with the young man; part of me believes that he saw Gellert in that poor boy, and transferred all of his pent-up anger and feelings of betrayal to Riddle. I think he had a hand in the young man's obsession with immortality and his eventual descent into insanity. I had Horace Slughorn as my potions professor and my head of house, and I know that he never would have gotten involved with passing on to Riddle the ideas for soul magic. Slughorn was a collector, and a poor unknown orphan just wasn't that interesting; no matter what his ancestry was.

Tom had begged to stay at Hogwarts; to claim sanctuary, as was his right. Albie, though, didn’t want Riddle to have free run of the school during the summers, and convinced Dippet that Riddle was ‘exaggerating’ the abuse and neglect he’d suffered at the orphanage. So, the headmaster denied that Founders-given right of asylum to the boy, and contributed to the pressure that forced Riddle to become what he was.

I was here the night that Albus held his ‘interview’ with that fraud, Trelawney. He had it right here, in my pub, surrounded by bottom-feeders and Death Eaters. He held it upstairs, in one of the rooms I frequently rent out. She came waltzing in here, drunk as you please, and blared out for anyone to hear that she was there for an interview with Dumbledore; that she was meeting him about the divination position, and that her great-great grandmother, Cassandra Trelawney, was a world-renowned seer. To say that she caught the attentions of quite a few reprobates is an understatement.

After I sent her upstairs, I watched as a young Death Eater crept up after her. I didn’t think anything of it; those types frequently slept off their inebriation here, so I didn’t pay much attention. I figured he had to use the loo, either to drain the lizard or to vomit up his last meal. When I noticed that he didn’t come back down, I went upstairs myself and caught him outside the room in which Albie was holding his interview, and I grabbed him. I opened the door to let my brother know that I’d caught an eavesdropper, and then took him back downstairs and kicked him out of my pub. Had I known that he’d overheard that sham of a prophecy and was going to take it back to the Dark Lord, I would have killed him. I feel somehow responsible for allowing Voldemort to go after a little baby, because I didn’t know what was going on upstairs, or what the Death Eater had heard.

RS: Do you know who that Death Eater was?

AAD: No. They all look alike to me. (I wanted to call him a liar, but that would have ended the interview, and I didn’t want to do that.) Suffice it to say that we all know what happened after that. Albus has ridden to the top of the food chain in our world on that supposed defeat of his once-lover so long ago, and we’ve kept him there for no other reason than that we desperately need someone to follow. I’ve heard several muggleborns and halfbloods raised in the muggle world comment that wizards can’t think logically. I’m ashamed to admit that they’re right. If we used our own brains to think through events over the last seventy years or so, we never would have given one man so much power over our world.

Consider this. We’ve kept Cornelius Fudge in office; a more incompetent man I’ve never seen. Why do we do it? Because he’s a known quantity. Bad people can keep doing what they do because he doesn’t put them away. Many of the Death Eaters that were arrested after the fall of Voldemort were released days later; all claiming that they were imperiused. The sad fact is that those with the deepest pockets get favored treatment by our Minister, and nobody wants to do anything about it. They’re all afraid that if they make waves, they’ll end up in Azkaban which, if you look at the statistics, seems to be the truth of things. Until we start looking at everything going on in our government with a magnifying glass, muggleborns and those on the wrong side of the tracks will continue to suffer our brand of prejudice because no one wants to buck against the status quo. And unfortunately, much of this can be laid at the feet of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

Chapter 26

Notes:

Had to change a sentence. The Wild Hunt is around Yule, not Samhain.

“Hey, Sev?” Remus queried softly. It was Samhain 1989 and everyone in Black Manor was getting ready for the ritual that would renew them in their magic. In a little less than two short years, everyone would relocate to the Tasmanian School of Magic, located in Hastings Cave in Hastings, Tasmania, and the whole house was buzzing with excitement. The house elves, knowing that their masters would be disappearing for ten months out of the year, were working hard to make sure that the last two years spent with them would be memorable. They all loved their extended family, which included the Malfoys, the Weasleys and the Longbottoms, but were especially fond of Harry and Draco, and would miss them horribly.

“What’s up, Remus?” the Potions Master queried with a smile. They were meeting in the library; the boys were out back with the Weasley children and Neville, learning how to fly and being carefully monitored by Charlie and Bill. Snape was continually surprised at the free and easy kind regard he continued to receive from men who had been his sworn enemies whilst they attended Hogwarts. He’d never, ever like Potter, but he was grateful that the man’s son loved him as much as he loved Harry.

“How have the meetings with the Overcooked Buzzard Club been going since Albus’ and Moody’s incarcerations? Who’s in charge now?” the werewolf asked curiously.

“Fortunately, much of the membership of the Order has withdrawn their support,” the Potions Master told his godson’s parents softly, “including me. Albus and Alistor were the glue that held the group together, and since his sins have been laid bare for all to see, the other participants decided that they didn’t wish to continue spying and recruiting for a man who would go after a little boy as hard as Dumbledore did for Harry. Many of them have become disillusioned by the secrets that had been revealed about the old man, and those who held positions in the Ministry went to Amelia to add more fuel to the fire that’s gently roasting the former headmaster’s arse.”

“I didn’t think that there would be anything else to reveal, besides all of the intel we’d collected through Phineas,” Sirius remarked in surprise.

“Apparently, Dumbledore used many of the Ministry employees who followed him to give him unfettered access to a great many confidential documents and files,” Snape told them with a grimace. “Much of what he’d learned was capable of collapsing our government, if used in the right way. Fortunately, the old man was planning on waiting until he could take away Harry’s magic before he used what he’d gleaned from his spies and sycophants. Amelia intends on using that information to prolong Dumbledore’s stay in prison, and she’s also thinking of upping his criminal status so that he can be put in the maximum security wing.”

“Is there unimpeachable proof of these additional misdeeds?” Lupin questioned thoughtfully. “If the DMLE can’t connect the dots convincingly enough, the information she’s been given would most likely be classified as hearsay, and wouldn’t net the old man any additional time, nor would it ensure he be moved to another part of Azkaban. If I know Albus, and I believe I do, he’ll have found a way to get all of this without staining his own hands in the process.”

“That’s what Bones is saying,” the Potions Master agreed in frustration. “She’s grateful for the potential of adding charges to Dumbledore’s sentence, but without a clear trail that leads directly to him, it’s all just speculation at this point. She’s adding everything she learns to the ever-growing file on the headmaster, and as soon as that one bit of information that can tie it all together and to Albus comes in, she’ll drop the whole load on the Wizengamot and demand a stricter punishment.”

“So everyone in the Order has voluntarily resigned?” Remus clarified.

“Yep,” the potions professor chirped cheerfully. “The Order of the Phoenix is no more, and the only people willing to allow Dumbledore to lead them off the edge of the world are Elphias Doge, Didalus Diggle, Emmeline Vance, Mundungus Fletcher and Sturgis Podmore. A bunch of lemmings, the lot of them, willing to follow their general over the edge of a cliff if his words were pretty enough.” Sirius snorted laughter at Severus’ apt description of Dumbledore’s foot soldiers, then sobered as a thought struck him.

“Moody’s been tossed in prison next to his old friend,” the animagus remarked with a smirk. “I wonder how that ‘reunion’ is going.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone sat around the table, waiting for the Samhain feast to begin. There was Harry and Draco, Lucius and Narcissa, Sirius and Remus, and Severus. The elves popped in with the food and began to serve it. The first course was pumpkin soup and soul cakes, served with wassail as the beverage. An empty place setting sat at the end of the table, and into the bowl was put some of the soup, with a cake to the side. Raising his glass of mulled cider, Lucius intoned, “Today we pay tribute to those who have gone before us. We break bread and invite them to sit with us as we enjoy this Samhain repast. To loved ones who passed before us, be welcome and enjoy the feast.”

“To Lyall and Hope Lupin,” Remus husked out as he raised his glass. One by one, everyone else toasted their dearly departed.

“To Regulus Black,” was Sirius’ salute.

“To James and Lily Potter,” murmured Harry.

“To Abraxas Malfoy,” was Lucius’ and Draco’s tribute.

“To Temnien Prince,” Severus added, his voice trembling as the feeling of love and warmth filled the room.

“To Cygnus and Druella Black,” Narcissa finished, the candlelight reflecting off of the tears that spilled down her cheeks.

“To family; those living and those who have crossed over,” everyone finished in unison as they raised their glasses once more. They started on their first course, the overwhelming love and protection in the room giving them hope for a better future. Once the soup and cakes were eaten, the elves brought out the colcannon, Irish bangers, herb roasted chicken with mashed turnips and the pork roast, with apple and acorn squash stuffing. Everyone served themselves, but Sirius made sure to fill the plate set out for their departed loved ones, the invitation to dine with them abundantly clear.

Talk ranged from excitement at the thought of going to Tasmania for school to what might happen, once Dumbledore was paroled. Sirius and Severus speculated with each other on what Moody’s reaction was when he was placed in the cell next to his old friend. “I heard from one of the guards that Albus was disappointed that Alistor was also in Azkaban,” Sirius remarked with a grin. “Apparently, the old man was hoping to use his friendship with Moody, and the retired Auror’s blind faith in him to try and engineer a way for Dumbledore to escape. His plans spanned the gamut from a golem to having one of his sycophants polyjuice themselves as Albus and die in prison so that the old wizard could go about his business on the outside unmolested.

“When the former headmaster started ranting about the return of Voldemort, Moody distanced himself from the insane megalomaniac, pointing out very reasonably that the Dark Lord was gone forever. I think Moody’s finally figured out that his old friend’s engine has fallen off the rails.” Main course finished, the elves cleared away and brought out the bambrack, warning everyone to be careful, as there were trinkets inside the treat. Slicing into the pudding, Sirius, as head of the house, put a portion on each diner’s plate, being sure to include a slice for their departed loved ones.

“Now, legend has it that this particular dessert is used to divine your future,” Severus told everyone. Most of the adults knew the history behind the savory treat, but they didn’t begrudge the Potions Master his efforts to educate his godsons. “Whatever trinket you discover in your piece of the cake will tell you what to expect sometime down the road.” Chatter picked up as each guest carefully sliced apart their piece of bambrack. Some of the trinkets inspired melancholy; for instance, Narcissa received a tiny golden pacifier in hers, and though she would love nothing more than to have more children, she knew that she couldn’t. The Black family had interbred with relatives so much that every daughter was cursed with a nearly barren womb. They only had enough eggs to beget one child, if they were supremely lucky. Bellatrix had lost her mind when the only pregnancy she had wasn’t carried to term, and she miscarried what would have been the next Lestrange heir.

Two trinkets, received by both Draco and Harry, inspired much laughter as the boys blushed in embarrassment. By a strange fluke, both children had received an engagement ring. Harry’s was studded with alternating emeralds and diamonds on the circumference of the band, whilst Draco’s was Mandarin garnets interspersed with diamonds on the circumference of the band. They locked eyes across the table, and the intensity of emotion that passed from one to the other was felt by all present. “I believe you’re too young at the moment to consider an engagement, but we can put those rings on a chain that you can wear around your necks,” Remus told the boys softly. “You can revisit the idea later. Though you both are bonded so that Harry’s wild magic can be better controlled, that doesn’t mean that you need to commit to a marriage bond right now.”

The meal finished, Sirius rose and took the untouched plate that was laid out for the spirits and walked through the manor to the back door. He was followed by everyone there as they watched him traipse out into the yard and to the wooded area far back into the property. He disappeared into the forest’s darkness, looking for the perfect place to set the plate so that the pookas would find it and feast. Once he was satisfied with the job, he turned around and returned to the house, where the wood for the bonfire had been set up. Around the perimeter of the circle sat baskets of fruits, root vegetables and squashes. These would be used as sacrifices to the ending of the autumn season, and the welcoming of winter, when the land slept and the old crone held sway.

“Incendio,” Severus whispered, wand pointed at the large pile of wood. The incantation was repeated by everyone but the boys, their spells lighting up the night as the flames flared into being, greedily eating the timbers. He bent and picked up an apple from his basket. “I wish to get rid of the enmity in my heart for James Potter,” he whispered, then tossed the apple into the fire.

Next to him, Sirius picked up a small squash and whispered, “I wish to get rid of the guilt over James’ and Lily’s deaths,” before hurling the vegetable into the flames.

Remus bent and picked up a turnip and whispered, “I wish to get rid of the idea that I’m weak because I’m a werewolf,” then tossed the vegetable into the fire.

Lucius bent down and picked up a potato from his basket, whispering, “I wish to get rid of the lingering bigotry taught to me by my father and grandfather,” before hurling the tuber into the bonfire.

Narcissa bent and picked up a carrot, whispering, “I wish to get rid of the feelings of superiority I hold over muggleborns and halfbloods,” then threw the carrot into the fire.

Not wanting to be left out, Harry picked up an orange and whispered, “I wish to get rid of the hatred I feel for Albus Dumbledore,” before tossing the fruit into the flames.

Draco finished the ritual by picking up an onion and whispering, “I wish to get rid of my urge to dislike someone because of their blood,” before tossing the vegetable into the flames.

The family stood and stared into the flames, eyes distant as they thought once again of those whom they’d lost and who they still loved with all of their being. Harry was the only one who didn’t feel the loss of family as keenly as everyone else; he was only fifteen months old when his parents died, and was instantly taken away by his godfather and uncle Remus. He never had time to really mourn the loss of people he didn’t really remember and though, in later years he would understand that his parents made the ultimate sacrifice out of love for him, for now he sent up a silent prayer to whatever gods were listening, thanking them for the family he had and hoping that they would be with him forever.

Chapter 27

November 4, 1989

Xenophilius Lovegood

The Rook

Ottery St. Catchpole

East Devon, EX9 7AZ, UK

 

Greetings, Lord Lovegood,

My name is D’Ken Neramani, and I am the headmaster of the Tasmanian School of Magic, located in the Hastings Cave system of Berriedale, Tasmania, and I am writing you to let you know that your daughter, Luna Lorelei Lovegood, has been marked in the Book of Wild Magic as a potential student to our school. Because of the Fae blood in your ancestry, she is eligible to attend our institution, where she will be rigorously trained in the use of her wild magic. We have received the acceptance letter of another student in England; a Harry James Lupin-Black, the last Potter heir. His mother was a descendant of the Evanwind High Elven clan, but she chose to decline her invitation to our school.

I offer this invitation because I know that your daughter will not receive the proper magical education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Your wife, Pandora Persephonē Lovegood, née Selinófoto, has a bit of fairy in her history, as well, which makes your daughter particularly powerful, both in elemental and wandless magic. She would be stifled going to a standard magic school, which is why we’re contacting you. Should she not be trained in all of the magics to which she is entitled, she could be gravely injured when her powers manifest themselves.

I do not wish to frighten you, or pressure you into a decision you may not wish to make. However, for the good of your daughter and the good of the wizarding world, I urge you to accept her invitation to the school.

Sincerely,

D’Ken Neramani

Headmaster, Tasmanian School of Magic

“Pandora?” Xeno called out, knowing that his wife was somewhere below, experimenting. “We just got a letter from the Tasmanian School of Magic in Australia, inviting Luna to be a student there.” His wife came up from her lab, a melancholy look in her eyes. Silently, he handed the missive to her and watched as she read through it a couple of times.

“She needs to go, Xeno,” she told her husband softly. “I only have a few short months left before I leave, and she’s going to need the strong friendship she’ll have with Harry Lupin-Black.”

“Nonsense, dearest,” Lovegood pooh-poohed his wife’s worries, his own grey eyes troubled. “You’ll no doubt outlive me, and be in Luna’s life for a very long time.” He knew of his wife’s abilities as an oracle, but was unwilling to acknowledge her prediction of her own death, thinking that if he ignored the problem, it would go away. It would be this stubborn denial of Fate’s design that would send him into a mental and emotional tailspin when Pandora died, and his wallowing in his self-absorbed grief would cost his daughter in ways that would mark her for the rest of her life.

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“Hey, Dad?” Harry called out as he entered his father’s den. Sirius was at the desk, going over all of the minutiae that was involved with managing the Black estates, including investments, rents and property taxes. He jumped at the unexpected sound of his son’s voice and looked up, grinning at his child and happily shoving the paperwork away in favor of talking with his heir.

“What’s up, sport?” the animagus queried as he stood and walked to the loveseat situated by the fireplace. The manor was chilly, as it often was during the winter months, and both father and son settled on the sofa with a contented sigh, relaxing as the heat from the fire soaked into their bones. Harry cuddled into Sirius’ side happily, humming in contentment as his dad’s arm curled around his shoulders and hugged him close.

“Did my mum and dad have their own place?” was not the question that Lupin-Black was expecting, and it was a few moments before he could formulate a reply.

“Your dad had a lot of manors and homes spread throughout the world,” he finally explained a little sadly. “Everything he had, he left to you, as did your mum. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I’d like to go visit the home in which they’d died,” the boy finally said, eyes on his hands as he hesitantly explained his reasoning. “I’ve always wondered what the house looked like and what their lives were like before they died.”

“They...ah...they weren’t in a Potter holding when they passed, Harry,” Sirius hesitantly explained. “Albus Dumbledore was concerned with their safety and felt that they’d be better off hiding in his old cottage in Godric’s Hollow. It’s a mixed muggle-magical village, and he figured that the Death Eaters and Voldemort wouldn’t be able to find them there.”

“But they did find my parents,” Harry asserted rather angrily. “Living in that little town didn’t save them at all.”

“Had Peter not betrayed them, they would still be alive, Harry,” Sirius told his son gently. “Peter was the secret-keeper for your parents, and none of us knew he was working with Voldemort at the time. We obviously didn’t pay enough attention to him to realize that he was terrified of dying, and had gone to the one being he thought would protect him best.”

“So they died in this Godric’s Hollow place?” the little boy queried.

“They did, and Remus and I had planned on taking you there much sooner, but with everything that Albus was trying to do to take you away from us, we forgot,” the animagus replied with a small, sad smile. “We can go this weekend and take a look around. I’m sure it’s still in the same condition it was when they died, and you’ll be able to grab a few keepsakes by which to remember them.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sign in front of the partially destroyed cottage said, On this spot, on the night of 31 October 1981, Lily and James Potter lost their lives. Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard ever to have survived the Killing Curse. This house, invisible to muggles, has been left in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters and as a reminder of the violence that tore apart their family.* It had appeared from the ground as soon as Sirius placed his hand on the gate, marking the home as a shrine. “Are...are we allowed to go inside?” Draco asked hesitantly. Since the home had been turned into what amounted to a holy place for magicals, he wasn’t sure they’d be allowed to go in.

“I don’t see why not,” Severus remarked as he stared up at the nursery window, equal parts longing and dread in his gaze. The memories returned, unbidden, of his desperate cries as he cradled his best friend’s body in his arms, until he heard the pop of apparition signaling others had arrived. Snape had quickly taken his leave, not wanting to be caught in the cottage by whomever may have returned to finish the job. He’d made good his escape just seconds before Sirius had barged into the baby’s room, neither knowing that the other was there until much, much later.

“Are you all right, Severus?” Remus queried quietly. “I know this can’t be easy for you.”

“I’ll be fine,” the Potions Master whispered, hands on his godson’s shoulders and squeezing gently, not sure if he was trying to comfort the child or himself with the gestures. “Time certainly hasn’t dimmed the strength of my memories of her.”

“We all feel that way,” Sirius told the other man kindly. “We might as well go on inside and see what we can salvage.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“If my parents lived and died here, wouldn’t that make this house mine?” the brunet child asked a couple of hours later. They had finished exploring, and Harry had walked away with both of his parents’ wands, as well as their wedding rings and his mum’s engagement ring. There were plenty of pictures scattered about the house, and a couple of photo albums were on the top shelf of the chifferobe in his parents’ bedroom. Harry wanted to wait until they got home, where he would look through all of the pictures carefully to decide which ones he wanted to keep, and which ones he would gift to Sirius, Remus and Severus for their own collections. There were a couple of rather expensive wizarding watches in the bed table drawer on James’ side of the bed, which Harry had added to the growing booty. Both timepieces had a plethora of protective spells, as well as portkey capabilities, and the emerald eyed child intended to give one of the watches to Draco.

“I know the home belongs to Albus,” Sirius murmured thoughtfully as he stared at the large roll top desk that sat in the corner of the living room. The cottage itself wasn’t very big, and James had to turn a corner of the front room into office space for himself as he handled his duties as Lord of the Potter family. “I don’t think that their deaths here would change that.”

“Well, I’ve grabbed what I wanted,” the raven haired boy told everyone with a shrug. “Unless you lot have other plans, I’m ready to go home.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, Albus knew that the Dursleys would abuse that poor child, and was counting on their treatment of him to make sure he was cowed and weak,” Bones murmured as she looked through the information that she’d received from the search of Dumbledore’s office. This was the third time she’d pulled out the old man’s file, and each time she looked at it, her skin crawled all over again at the blatant lack of compassion or care for an innocent displayed in all of the machinations the old man had put together.

“This stuff with the Chamber of Secrets and the basilisk is what worries me the most. He intended to somehow engineer Harry’s second year so that his gift of parseltongue, which never manifested, since the soul piece was removed whilst he was still young, would be exposed, using Salazar Slytherin’s basilisk familiar as the catalyst. That he would endanger the entire school in order to take away as many support systems as that poor little boy would have needed is monstrous. And then the Triwizard Tournament for fourth year and somehow forcing the boy to compete! That sick old man has been fighting so hard to make sure that there’s always going to be a Dark Lord so that we’re always looking to him for our rescue.

“Well, the boy’s going to be attending a school hundreds of miles away, out of the reach of Albus-whackadoodle-Dumbledore for the next seven years at the least, so by the time the former headmaster is released from Azkaban, he’ll be too old to cause any problems. If I have my way, however, I’ll keep him in prison until he dies.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Valentine’s day, the day after Luna’s ninth birthday, when the unthinkable happened. The little girl was in her mother’s lab, watching as Pandora was layering a couple of rather cantankerous spells together. The older woman was trying to create a shield spell that would be able to launch a single attack as it was erected, to give whomever it protected the chance to drive back the attackers for a brief moment, giving the other witch or wizard enough time to strengthen the spell and provide better security. The Auror Department at the Ministry had commissioned her to create the spell for their use only, but she was having trouble marrying the reducto with the protego horribilis. On their own, both spells did what they were supposed to do without excessive energy use. Together, however, they were unstable, with the shield spell sapping more magical strength and weakening the reductor curse so that it wouldn’t be as effective a deterrent as it needed to be.

“If I could just get the damn reducto to cooperate,” she murmured, most of her mind on her task. A small part of her brain, however, was distracted by her impending death, and with her concentration split like it was, she was making some stupid mistakes that she normally wouldn’t have committed, had she been focused fully on her task.

“Are you sure you want to do that, Mum?” Luna asked softly, grey eyes wide as she watched Pandora struggle to get the two spells to work in harmony together. Her mistake was believing that the destructiveness of the reducto could be tamed and focused by the stability and sheltering nature of the protego horribilis. So, in her arrogance and distraction, she tried to force the reductor curse to fuse itself with the shield charm, and the immediate backfire of the reductor took out her chest and pulverized her heart.

Pandora survived long enough to gasp out, “I’m so sorry, baby,” before the life light left her eyes. Xenophilius descended the stairs at a run, having heard the explosion from his office on the third floor, and his scream of abject misery would follow Luna in her dreams for a very long time.

Notes:

The address was extrapolated by a very talented person at this website: http://members.madasafish.com/~cj_whitehound/Fanfic/Location_Location/Ottery_St_Catchpole.htm. He, or she took all the general information from the relevant parts in the book and, using quite a bit of rather brilliant detective work, figured out approximately where the addresses occurred in the real world, so I used them.

*From Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, written by JK Rowling. Published 21 July 2007 by Bloomsbury Publishing. I make no money from this story.

Chapter 28

The extended family, minus the Malfoys because they had other commitments, were in Diagon Alley to pick up the books for the continuing tutoring Narcissa was giving the boys. The Weasleys were invited along so that Molly could pick out the shop she’d eventually occupy as a caterer. At the moment, she was taking orders at the Burrow, and her popularity was growing enormously, simply through word of mouth. It was one of the topics that Sirius had discussed with the older woman, since she was part of the Black family through marriage. Both Arthur and Molly were feeling particularly blessed that these people, with whom they’d become fast friends and family members, had been willing to forgive them their wrongheadedness and wanted to help them increase the opportunities for a better life for all of them.

“Dad?” Harry said suddenly as he stared at a bedraggled little girl putting some home-made newspapers in a shop stand. “Who is that?” He pointed out the neglected child, and all eyes focused on her as she made her careful way to the next shop.

“That’s Luna Lovegood,” Molly told everyone sadly. “Her mother passed away a couple of months ago, and since then we haven’t seen hide nor hair of her or her father. Xeno was deeply, madly in love with Pandora, and her death hit him particularly hard.”

“Why isn’t she wearing any shoes?” Draco queried, scandalized. “For that matter, why does she look like she’s been living in the woods somewhere?” The Lovegood child wore a filthy white dress whose lace was dragging the ground in a few spots. It looked like she had been wearing it almost constantly, and it was beginning to fall apart. She was gaunt, and had a haunted, hunted look about her as she continued to place the rather shabbily made pamphlets in the newsstands that sat in front of several businesses.

“I don’t think Xenophilius is capable of taking care of his daughter right now,” Arthur remarked, eyes narrowed on the waif. “She turned nine the day before her mother passed, but her birthday was overshadowed by the loss of Pandora Lovegood. I don’t think she’s had the proper time to grieve if Xeno took it as badly as we think, based on her condition at the moment.”

“We need to help her,” Harry insisted as he started walking toward the little girl. “We can’t just leave her more or less alone, if her dad’s not mentally or emotionally capable of taking care of her.” He reached Luna’s side and touched her shoulder. She jumped three feet in the air with a loud, frightened squeal and spun around, staring at the raven haired boy as if he was there to take her soul. “Hi,” the tawny-eyed boy said with a friendly smile. “My name is Harry Lupin-Black, and you look like you could use a friend.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, Luna’s settled in,” Remus told everyone sadly as he sat next to his husband. “I think this might actually be the first time in many days that she was able to relax enough to sleep. She dropped off almost immediately, but still hasn’t said a word.” Harry had to work hard to convince the little girl to come home with them, and she was silent as a grave the entire time. No matter what conversational gambit they tried, she remained maddeningly tight-lipped. “We need to get Poppy here to take a look at her; make sure she’s not ill.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Lucius volunteered as he stood and approached the fireplace. “Once I’m finished with this, and after her visit, I’ll take the medical reports she generates to the Ministry and talk to Amelia about looking in on Xenophilius to make sure the man is well. If his wife’s death has hit him as hard as we suspect it did, he might have to be sent to St. Mungo’s mind damage ward for a bit.”

“If that happens, Remus and I will apply for custody of her,” Sirius added, Black-Lupin nodding his agreement. “Does anyone know her family history?”

“Her mother, Pandora, has fairy ancestry, and her dad has Sídhe heritage, so that would make her a rather powerful elemental,” Molly quietly told everyone.

“So that probably means that she’ll be going to the Tasmanian school as well,” Narcissa guessed with a shrug. “There had been rumors that the Lovegoods were related in some fashion to the Malfoys, but I haven’t found any proof to that particular assertion yet. Their names don’t show up in any of the Malfoy genealogy registries, nor do they have any relations to the Blacks.”

“Does that matter?” Harry queried curiously as he looked at his aunt.

“Not really,” Lucius answered for his wife. “There aren’t too many Malfoys or Blacks left, and we’re rather eager to include anyone who can prove familial history. It’s the only reason Cissa is looking in the first place.”

“But you’re not going to hold their creature ancestry against them, are you?” the raven haired child continued to grill his uncle. “I heard about the kinds of bigotry Voldemort held, and that the Death Eaters had to believe the same thing.”

“No, loveling, we don’t hold the same attitudes toward those with mixed magical lineages as most purebloods do,” Lady Malfoy replied. “If we did that, we’d be horrible hypocrites, considering that magical humans are all descended from magical creatures mating with muggles. It was the only way we were gifted with magic in the first place.”

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“It was bad,” Amelia told Sirius and Remus when they went to speak to her about becoming Luna’s foster parents. “We had Poppy Pomfrey go with us when we went to visit Mr. Lovegood, and if we’d have waited any longer, he most likely would have died. I don’t think he’s had anything to eat since the regrettable loss of his wife, and the cold box was filled with rotting food. I honestly don’t know how his daughter survived that hell. The entire house was a shrine to Pandora Lovegood, and it looked like he had tried to preserve her body so he could keep it forever.”

“He was a publisher of his own magazine, wasn’t he?” Remus asked. “We found Luna putting copies of it in the newspaper stands that sat outside some of the shops in Diagon. She looked like she hadn’t had a bath in weeks, and she was barefoot.”

“The printing press was broken when we finally went to investigate,” Bones told the men, frowning in consternation at their description of the little girl. “There were dozens of copies of the Quibbler all over the place. I suppose she collected what she could and took them out to be sold; no doubt to get enough money to feed herself and her father.”

“What are you going to do with Xeno?” Sirius asked as he signed the custody agreement. He slid it over for his spouse to add his signature as the DMLE head answered the question.

“He’s in the mind damage ward of St. Mungo’s,” she told the men sadly. “He was so wrapped up in Pandora that it’s a wonder he didn’t try to kill himself, just so he could be with her again. We’ve had to condemn the residence; it was in too bad of a condition to remain standing. He never even cleaned up the mess that was made when Mrs. Lovegood’s experiment backfired on her. I hope something can be done for him, but I’m not holding my breath.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, uncle Sev?” Harry said as he stepped into the potions lab in the basement of Black Manor. It was Saturday, and Severus was home from Hogwarts for the weekend.

“Give me one moment, and then we can talk,” the Potions Master told his godson softly. “The potion is at a critical point, and I need to add the nettles before I can put a stasis charm on it.” The basement room was silent as a tomb as the older man concentrated on not making a catastrophic mistake, whilst the child watched the careful dance his uncle flawlessly performed, enraptured once again at the brilliance of his most favorite person outside his parents and Draco. “All right,” the potions professor finally said several tense minutes later. “What do you want, scamp?”

“Do you remember when we went to the Potter vaults so that I could collect a few mementos with which to decorate my room?” the child asked curiously as he sat on the leather loveseat by the fire. Snape joined the ten year old after washing his hands, and looped a companionable arm around the child’s shoulders. Harry leaned into his godfather happily, always grateful for the gentle care with which he was treated by the dreaded potions professor.

“I do,” Snape answered, carding his fingers through dark unruly locks fondly. “What of it?”

“Well, one of the things I grabbed was a trunk that was filled with all kinds of papers and diaries,” heir Lupin-Black replied with a grin. “Most of those were journals describing the pranks that James and his friends played on the school, as well as some rather disgusting bragging about how he and Dad had ‘bested’ you time and again.” Severus inhaled sharply, perhaps to throw out accusations, but the child’s next words halted him in his tracks. “I find it hard to respect a man who relied on three others to help him ‘conquer’ Slytherin house, and abuse you specifically. I can’t help but be grateful that he never had a hand in raising me. I shudder to think that I could have ended up feeling just as entitled and arrogant as James Potter was.”

“Why did you wish to talk to me about this, Harry?” Severus queried, heartbeat slowing at the support his godson was showing him.

“Well, at the bottom of that trunk was an envelope with your name on it,” the child told the older man as he pulled the missive from his pocket and handed it to his godfather. Snape stared down at his name scrawled across the front of the envelope, knowing whose handwriting that was, having seen it a lot during his years in school. “If you want to read it in private, I can go…”

“No,” Severus nearly barked as he cracked the wax seal on the envelope. “I want you here in case there’s something in this that might be upsetting. It’s from your birth father, and there might be something in it for you.” He pulled the parchment from the envelope and began to read, tilting it enough so that Harry could see what it said.

December 25, 1980

Severus Snape,

It is Christmas day, and everyone is still asleep. At Albus’ urging, we decided to stay in his family home, here in Godric’s Hollow, for our own safety and protection. We put it under the fidelius, with Sirius as secret-keeper, but he and I have been talking, and I think he’s right. We need to give the position to Peter, since You Know Who knows of my close friendship with Siri. However, that’s not what I want to talk to you about. Lily and I have been arguing about our time in Hogwarts, and I must admit that I didn’t see anything wrong with how Padfoot and I acted whilst in school, but since Harry’s birth, things have changed. I have changed.

I was reading the diaries that I’d kept while I was in school, and I am so ashamed of myself. I thought to share them with my son when he was older; to show him how wonderful Hogwarts was, and how great my friendships with Sirius, Remus and Peter were. Instead, my perspective on that time took a radical shift as I read how proud I was for my abuses to the Slytherins, and most especially you. I have no excuse for my behavior, except to chalk it up to boredom, being spoilt growing up and my jealousy of your friendship with Lily. I fell hard for her from the moment I saw her, and I was afraid that you would be the one she eventually chose. After we were married, she told me that I was her destined mate, and that you would meet yours later. That all you and she would ever be was the best of friends.

I know you regret calling her a mudblood, and I understand why you did. We’d just humiliated you, and you lashed out in shame when she offered to help you. She’s kept every apology letter you’ve sent her, you know. I can’t help but feel remorse for coming between the both of you in the violent way I did, but I also know that you grew in strength and honor because of what I did to you. She’s forgiven you, you know, and she misses you terribly. Now it’s too late for the two of you to get together and soothe hurt feelings; all because a pair of megalomaniacs with overblown egos want to fight over their sandbox.

I am sorrier than you’ll ever know that I abused you so horribly. I’m horrified at Sirius for his near murder of you, using our friend Remus as the weapon. I only hope, for his sake as well as yours, that you’re able to put that horrific night behind you. I, James Fleamont Potter, do hereby release Severus Snape from the life debt owed to me because of stupidity and arrogance. So mote it be. Lily has ‘seen’ some things, and she’s told me that you’ll more than fulfill that debt when our son is older. I wanted to get this mess I caused put behind us, so that you wouldn’t see my son and instantly choose to take your enmity for me out on him. He doesn’t deserve that, no matter what I’ve done.

Have a good life, Severus Snape, and know that you are honored and honorable, and that you are loved.

Sincerely,

James Fleamont Potter

Chapter 29

Notes:

boudreaux reminded me of someone who needed rescuing earlier, so I've started the process. Also, I did research on the Aboriginal magic to include it here, but if I have anything wrong, please don't hesitate to let me know.

“Is everyone all packed?” Sirius asked as he went from room to room. Under the gentle care of the Malfoys, the Lupin-Blacks and Severus Snape, Luna Lovegood blossomed into the happy, carefree child she was meant to be. Away from her father, who was slightly loopy under the best of circumstances, she developed into a more introspective child without the fanciful ideals with which her father had begun to fill her head, before the death of his wife knocked away the shaky underpinnings of his sanity.

“Yes, Dad, we’re all packed,” Harry huffed out with thinly-veiled impatience. “We’ve been all packed since last night, for Merlin’s sake.” They were getting ready to portkey to Berriewell, Tasmania; the magical town between Berriedale and Chigwell. There was a Black family manor on the outskirts of the well-protected village and they were anxious to get settled in before the Yule holiday, so that they could have a wonderful family gathering there. It would be the first time in over two centuries that the old home would be opened once again to heirs, but the house elves had been sent ahead to make sure that everything was as it should be for occupation.

Going on this trip would be both Sirius and Lupin, as well as their son, along with Narcissa Malfoy and Draco. She would also be taking charge of Luna whilst the men went to the school and got all their ducks in a row. When they were finished, she would go and sign her employment contract, making sure that Harry, Draco and Luna had all their loved ones protected by the dreamtime magic of Australia. Severus, unfortunately, would be missing the primary exodus, but his things were already packed away and Harry felt honored to be the one to transport his uncle Sev’s potions ingredients and equipment, whilst Draco took his clothes, books and other sundry items. Lucius had finalized the floo hook-up between Tasmania and England, making sure that it was completely warded against anyone but those who had the password, which was, “Cowabunga!” Both Harry and Draco thought it would be the perfect key word, as absolutely no one in the wizarding world would ever guess it.

Both boys had seen some odd comic books about a kid named Charlie Brown and his dog, Snoopy, whilst they were out shopping for clothes and necessities for their move, and had badgered Sirius and Remus to buy them, until the men finally caved. At home, it was easy for the blond and brunet to sink into the world of the Peanuts, and seeing the beagle dive off of his doghouse, the thought bubble screaming “Cowabunga!” gave Harry the idea for the countersign. The watchword also had a gibberish spell attached to it so that anyone hearing Bones or anyone else using the signal wouldn’t be able to understand it, adding an extra measure of safety for them all.

“All right,” Remus huffed out, already tired from the morning’s excitement, “let’s get to the floo room and get ready for the portkey to go off. Severus will be joining us on the weekends, and he can meet with the staff at the Tasmanian school then. Come on, now. Chop chop. We don’t want to mess anything up by not being ready.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The beetle animagus sat near the ceiling, antennae twitching as she listened closely to the conversations between Dumbledore and Moody. Most of what was said didn’t make much sense without additional information to add context to the talks, but she dutifully recorded every word, hoping that more information would fall into her lap so that she could put it all together in a cohesive narrative. Merlin, but these old fuddy-duddies are boring, she thought rather acerbically. If it wasn’t for the fact that I needed to do this to stay out of here myself, I wouldn’t be here. “What did you do with the contracts?” Albus suddenly asked, which had the beetle’s antennae quivering in anticipation. “Since most of the muggleborns who had legal access to those accounts are either dead or trapped with their muggle relatives, I thought we could get a message out to some of our people and have them do some deeper investigations on the location of my protégé. We really need to get him back here and properly trained if we’re to see the end of Voldemort.”

“For Chrissake, Albus, enough already!” Alistor snapped loudly. “For the last bleeding time, the man’s dead and he isn’t coming back! How many times, and in how many different ways to I have to say it before you get it through your delusional head that Severus Snape, Remus Black-Lupin, Sirius Lupin-Black, Narcissa Malfoy and Lucius Malfoy put an end to him. They did it to make sure that their sons, Draco Malfoy and Harry Lupin-Black don’t have to grow up with those heavy expectations on their shoulders.

“Fucking hell, man, I’m getting heartily sick and tired of listening to you bleat on about a war that ended before it could be restarted. If I’d known that you were intent on having it, I never would have agreed to keep after certain segments of our society. I would have left the Dark practitioners alone, since they haven’t really done anything since the fall of the Noseless One. You are so hellbent on obtaining stolen glory that you’d sacrifice anyone to your twisted ideals, if it meant that you had all the power.

“And another thing! I know about the plot you had to somehow reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, using your friendship with Crouch to see that it was held at Hogwarts. I know what you had planned for that boy, and I’m happy to say that I’m glad that someone called you on your bullshite. Don’t think I don’t know about Bartemius’ ‘prisoner’, either. In fact, I’ve asked the guard to get a message to Amelia, telling her that I have important information to give her concerning the alleged ‘death’ of a Death Eater.”

Albus floundered for a very long, painful few minutes as he tried to mentally work his way through all the sudden bombardas with which he was faced. He took the most recent accusation first, since it was fresh on his mind, and his sense of betrayal skyrocketed at the implications his oldest friend had just made. “How dare you!” the old man bellowed, startling some shrieks from prisoners further down the block. “After everything I’ve done for you; after everything we’ve been through since before the rise of Voldemort, and this is how you repay me? With betrayals? Don’t think you’ll be able to get away with it, either, old friend. Do remember that I know a great many of your secrets, as well.

“How do you think Amelia would feel if she knew that you were the one to kill Fabian and Gideon Prewett? Never mind her; how would Molly Weasley feel? Hmm? If she knew that you assassinated them in cold blood… You shot the killing curses at their backs, you crazy coward! I had instructed you to make sure that the witnesses identified you as Augustus Rookwood, so that I could get him out of the Department of Mysteries. Instead, you curse them in the back, and the only thing anyone saw was a dark cloak before you ran away. Thanks to you, I was never able to gain access to the Unspeakables’ research, which I could have used to ensure that our world and the muggle world blended more seamlessly!”

“Since we’re telling secrets, old friend,” the former Auror growled, magical eye watching the beetle on the ceiling with hidden satisfaction, “what do you think your sycophantic followers would do if they found out that you and Gellert Grindelwald were lovers?” Jackpot, Rita crowed to herself as she listened closely. She had a pensieve back in her office that she used to watch her memories, to make sure that she got everything as close as possible to the true facts, with a little embellishment of course. This news, however, wouldn’t need her special touch; it was scandalously juicy all on its own.

“How would they feel if they knew that you had a child together?” the battle-scarred man crowed with a wide, malicious smile, which made his face even more nightmare-inducing than it had been before. “How would they feel if they knew that your child, Annie Grindelwald-Wilkes, was one of Voldemort’s most ardent acolytes, and had destroyed many, many lives before she was finally put down. In fact, she was the one who had cursed my foot off at the ankle, with a spell so virulent that it kept spreading, which necessitated the rest of my leg being amputated below the knee. I must admit, Albus, the acorn certainly didn’t fall very far from the tree in your family.”

“You leave my child out of this!” the former headmaster hollered, enraged. “She was an innocent, turned away from her grand purpose by the silver tongue of that bastard child, Riddle! I knew he was no good and shouldn’t have been allowed to attend my school, but I couldn’t keep him out! When she fell in love with that monster and vowed to follow him to the ends of the earth, it broke my heart.” Dumbledore collapsed to his knees, hands covering his face as he wept. “She was only twelve when she came to me and told me that she was in love with him. He was seventeen, and I can only imagine what sorts of things he did to convince her to turn away from my teachings.”

“The only thing Riddle was guilty of in the case of your daughter was awakening the madness she already had,” Alistor said tiredly, suddenly sick of the whole conversation. “She was born bad, Albus. I could see it as she moved through the school, even though she was a year younger than I was. When she was under the thrall of a young Tom Riddle, I came to you to let you know. I wasn’t sure that Dippet would have been able to handle the young man, but I knew that you neither liked nor trusted him, and I must admit I was in awe of you as my transfiguration professor. You just blew me off, so I didn’t pay any more attention to the matter.”

“She got that vicious streak from her father,” Dumbledore replied with offended dignity. “After Gellert abandoned me with Annie, I got the best nanny elves that I could to take care of her whilst I saw to other, more important matters. She rarely made a fuss, and as she got older I noticed how introverted and studious she was, so I figured that she was in good enough hands. She never exhibited any sort of...evil that I could see, so I never gave the matter any more thought.”

“That was your mistake, Albus,” Moody told the old man softly. “You could never see past the end of your long, crooked nose to recognize a child in need, and it’s to your detriment as all of your sins come home to roost.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

October 1, 1990

The Daily Prophet

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE HAS LOVE CHILD WITH GELLERT GRINDELWALD!

Duel turns out to be a lover’s spat!

Rita Skeeter, reporter

Yes, dear readers, you read that right. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had a love affair with Dark Lord Gellert Gustav Grindelwald, right under our very noses. Not only was it an affair of the heart, but it also resulted in a child. Mrs. Annie Grindelwald-Wilkes, of Godric’s Hollow, was born on April 1, 1932, while Albus Dumbledore was away on a visit with his paramour. He had gone to see the future Dark Lord in 1932 in London, to see if he could talk the other man out of his plans to storm the world and apparently went into unexpected labor. The girl was born in the hotel, unbeknownst to any of the other guests or staff. I found evidence of his travels, as well as hotel receipts for his stay in the Ritz London, along with a Gustav Wald. The poor attempt at disguising the Dark Lord Grindelwald’s name is laughable, and easily found, if you know for what you’re looking.

There is much I have to report, and it will be a lengthy story, but for now, let me leave you with this; Albus Dumbledore’s daughter, fathered by the Dark Lord Grindelwald, fell in love with the Dark Lord Voldemort whilst the young man was in his seventh year of school. She was a mere twelve years old, but the influence of the genes she’d inherited from both parents, coupled with the compelling dark charm of Tom Marvolo Riddle, Voldemort’s true name, spelled doom for the child.

Chapter 30

Notes:

boudreaux mentioned someone who needed a helping hand early, so that's covered in this chapter. Thanks for the suggestion.

“Hey, Dad?” Harry called out one Saturday in late January 1990. Everyone had finally gotten settled and their holiday celebration had been full of love, laughter, and introductions to the staff of the school. They had taken as much of their lives with them as they could, and the Black Manor in Berriewell, called Padfoot's Redoubt, was more than large enough to accommodate the Malfoys, Severus Snape and the Lupin-Black family, along with their newest child, Luna Lovegood. She had approached Sirius at Yuletide and had requested that he and his husband make her a permanent part of their family. Sirius and Remus gladly agreed to adopt Luna, and her name became Luna Lovegood-Lupin. Harry had Sirius’ surname of Black, so the little blonde thought it only fair that she take the lycan’s last name for her own.

The news from back home wasn’t good; Xenophilius had to be put into a magical coma in order to keep him from tearing at his own flesh in his demented grief over his wife, and they were feeding him through a tube. Nothing they did seemed to matter, however, as the sidhe heritage, which was very strong in him, had taken over from the weaker human side, and was actively engaged in the ritual starvation/suicide that was demanded from the species whenever they lost the other half of themselves. The soul bonds that formed after sidhe found their mates was unbreakable even in death, and that he was bound to someone with faerie blood made the bonds even tighter. All the Healers and medical personnel were doing was prolonging his suffering, since his body had begun to shut down on its own, so it was a waiting game as to how long before Xenophilius Lovegood slipped away to reunite with his wife in death.

 “What’s up, sport?” the animagus asked his son with a grin.

“Is it possible to make a horcrux out of a corpse?” was not the question the man had been expecting, and he stopped in his tracks, staring at the boy with astonishment. Remus, Lucius and Severus had heard the question, since they were sitting in the opposite corner of the salon waiting for Lupin-Black to finish his tasks before joining them, and they all stood and approached the ten year old, eyes narrowed a little worriedly at the out-of-the-blue question that was asked.

“W-why are you asking, son?” Remus stammered softly as he and the others found seats closer to the pair.

“Well, we know that they’re mostly made from inanimate objects,” the brunet began to explain his thoughts, which had bothered him for a while now. “I was the only recorded living horcrux in history, as far as we know, and if you guys hadn’t have worked so hard to get rid of them, I would still be a horcrux. If Riddle was so hell-bent on his permanence in the world, could he have made one from a corpse about which we don’t know?”

“Huh,” Severus grunted eloquently as he stared at his godson wonderingly. “That’s a really good question, Harry. All the research we did on that particular magic didn’t actually put any limits on what could conceivably be used as a horcrux, so I think it’s quite possible to use a corpse. Or, at least, the bones of a corpse. I think the flesh would rot away too quickly for it to be a safe option, but the bones could conceivably last at least a century. Of course, one wonders what happens to the horcrux when the skeleton is no longer there. Will it cling to the powder and dust that the remains become, or will it dissipate into the ether?”

“I think we need to get these questions to the Unspeakables here,” Lucius suddenly said, startling everyone out of their introspective silence. “If it’s possible to convert a corpse into a horcrux, then Riddle might still be able to return, if he’d thought of this, too.”

"I wouldn't panic about that at this juncture," Severus chimed in, wanting to reassure everyone that Riddle was well and truly dead.  "Our Marks faded until they're practically invisible.  I doubt Voldemort would have thought of using a corpse for his soul container, considering how...picky he was, but it's a very good question that needs answered anyway, just in case someone else decides to be so foolish."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

January 31, 1990

The Daily Prophet

BARTEMIUS CROUCH ARRESTED!

Son held prisoner under imperius for nearly eight years!

Kimberly Wells, reporter

In what can only be termed the scandal of the decade, during a decennium filled with the infamy of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, who was one of our most revered citizens, Bartemius Crouch, Sr, our former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and current head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, has been keeping his convicted Death Eater son, Bartemius Crouch Jr, under the imperius curse and imprisoned in his house since late 1982. From interviews with the son, it was determined that his father, at the behest of his dying wife, had given Amanda Crouch, née Springhill, a polyjuice potion with her son’s hair in it, so that she could replace Barty Jr in the prison cell, thereby engineering the first Azkaban escape in the history of the prison.

Barty Jr. was kept under the effects of the imperius long enough that his mind has fractured from the magic, which is why this particular spell is considered an Unforgivable. Not only does it subvert the will of the victim to whomever casts the curse, but it can, with prolonged use, cause damage to both the mind and the magic of the recipient. Barty Jr. is now under the care of the Mind Healers attached to the Janus Thickey ward in St. Mungos, where he will receive intensive treatment to try and reverse the torture under which his father placed him for so long. Once the son has been healed as much as is possible under the circumstances, he will receive a new trial, to discuss the young man’s history in that family and perhaps see if there were mitigating circumstances that caused Barty Crouch Jr to turn to another for approval and validation.

Bartemius Crouch Sr has been relieved of his duties to the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and will, himself, go to trial for the illegal use of an Unforgivable for eight years. His service to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement may be considered for leniency in his sentencing, but this reporter has been assured that he will serve, at the minimum, thirty years for his use of the imperius curse. As you will recall, during the last part of the ten years long war with the Dark Lord Voldemort, martial law was declared, and the Aurors and DMLE were given blanket permission to use whatever means necessary to protect the citizens of wizarding Great Britain and ‘take out the trash’ as it were. There were exceptions written into the laws governing the use of the imperius, the cruciatus and the avada kedavra spells, permitting law enforcement discretionary use of the curses to protect the public. Those exceptions still exist, and DMLE Head Amelia Bones intends to take a look at their uses in a case-by-case manner, and will assign punishment or immunity as needed.

“Barty Crouch Jr. is still alive,” Sirius commented after he finished the article. He passed the paper on to Remus, who grunted in surprise as he read the story himself. The others around the breakfast table looked at the animagus curiously, wondering why he’d brought it up. “He...he seemed to be a lot like me in school,” the animagus admitted sheepishly. “He sorted Slytherin, which I know pissed his dad off, whenever Crouch actually paid attention to the boy. I can’t help but think that the disappointment and neglect Barty got, because of his dad’s focus on his own ambitions, contributed to the kid falling for all the sweet words that Riddle spouted to gather his followers.”

“You’re not wrong, Siri,” Lucius agreed softly. “Riddle seemed to know just what to say to each and every one of us to make us believe that he was on our side and supported everything we wanted. Bartemius was desperate for a father figure who approved of him wholeheartedly, and Riddle gave him enough of the right sort of attention to garner the young man’s loyalty. Hopefully the Mind Healers will be able to break through those delusions and return the young man to his more stable self.”

“If we write to Amelia and let her know what actually happened to Barty; what he’d gone through before and during Voldemort’s reign, she might be a bit more lenient with him,” Severus offered softly. “I wouldn’t mind adding another protection for Harry, and I think if we treated Barty right, he might be redeemable.”

“It’s an idea,” Lupin agreed with a shrug. “I vaguely remember the way he flitted through the school, almost as if he didn’t feel he belonged there, and he was always courteous to me, even after he discovered my secret. In fact, there were times that it seemed like it was he and I against the world, and he was a comfort when I was feeling my lowest.”

“Why didn’t you come to James or I, Remy?” his husband queried, the hurt in his voice painfully obvious.

“You and James had so many other things you did with other people, Siri,” the werewolf replied, the loneliness of that time still evident. “James had his quidditch to keep him occupied, and you and Peter would go off and plot some of the meaner pranks against the Slytherins. That usually left me with no one to talk to; especially when I became prefect. Barty offered an impartial ear, and gave me support when I most needed it.”

“All right, we’ll give him a chance once he’s released,” the animagus finally agreed. “I can help him in the way that I never got to help Reggie.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alistor Moody,” Griselda Marchbanks intoned softly. She was part of the small committee who had taken the ex-Auror out of Azkaban in order to talk with him about the information he had on Albus Dumbledore, as well as Barty Crouch Jr. Much of the conversations that were held between the two old friends whilst they were incarcerated side by side were stored in memory vials for future use against the old man some time down the road. The battle-hardened older man was sitting in a chair before the panel, magical eye stationary for once as he awaited their judgment. “We have discussed your situation for many days, and we’ve finally come to a consensus. Your sentence has been commuted to community service, and you will be required to wear an ankle monitor so that we may keep an eye on your movements for the next three years. You are to permanently disband that illegal vigilante group that you’d been part of since before the fall of Voldemort, and we will require the names of all the participants, as well as their duties to the organization.

“Any criminal actions committed during the first war will be examined on a case-by-case basis, and any judgments we pass in regards to those actions will be carried out. You will provide all evidence relevant to these examinations, and if it’s found that you’ve been withholding vital pieces of information, for yourself or for Albus Dumbledore, you’re commutation will be revoked and we will add an additional amount of time to your sentence, commensurate to the crimes committed. You will be required to check in with Amelia Bones once a week, to submit whatever evidence you’ve collected as well as having the anklet discharged of all the information it gathered during that week.

“I understand the desire to continue to kowtow to Albus Dumbledore,” Marchbanks commiserated softly. “I believed in him almost as much as everyone else, and it was quite a disappointment to see how far he’s fallen. I also know how honorable you’ve been in the performance of your duties as Auror, and I’d hate to see all of that thrown away for the whims of a man who no longer has the best interests of the wizarding world on his mind. Remember your oath to always uphold the law and dispense true and proper justice to the guilty. I wish you luck going forward. The defendant is free to go.”

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It was as Sirius was exploring a darkened corner of the basement at Padfoot’s Redoubt that he discovered a milky, cloudy orb made of the finest glass. Picking it up, he nearly dropped it when the figure of a man shrouded in dark robes rose from the ball and began to speak.

“Darkness will overpower light. Once revered, the guiding light will betray all who trust him. From a far off land, salvation will rise as the original ones help the wild one tear down the old to create the new. Salvation will come from a far off land.”

“Well, shite,” the animagus murmured in resignation. “Now we know that the foretelling Trelawney gave was truly fake. I’m not sure I want to know how Harry’s going to take this one.”

Chapter 31

“What is this?” Minerva murmured to herself as she stared at the elaborately carved stone bowl inside the chifferobe sitting next to Fawkes’ stand. The phoenix had gleefully settled in to be McGonagall’s shadow, appreciating her much more than he did the old man, who had been working hard against everything for which Hogwarts, the Founders and the fiery bird himself had stood. She pulled it from the shelf, and her blue eyes widened in shock at the rows and rows of vials hidden behind it, full of silvery memory, if her assumptions were correct. “Merlin,” she whispered, a little shocked, “there must be decades of information here, hidden away from the light of day.” She transfigured several pieces of parchment on her desk into a sturdy animal skin bag for the little bottles, and cast a plethora of protective charms on it to prevent breakage.

“Minerva,” Filius squeaked as he came into the headmistress’ office, stopping dead in surprise as he watched her collect vial after vial and placing them in the sack. Since Severus had submitted his resignation, the transfiguration professor was a little desperate to find someone else to help her helm the school, but had very little luck with the applicants that had come from outside Hogwarts. It was as she was lamenting her fate to one of her oldest friends that the little part-goblin suggested she look for someone inside the school to take the deputy spot. He logically reasoned that no one knew the castle and the students better than one of the professors, and as the older woman pondered the idea, she realized that her friend was right, and that he would be the perfect counterpoint to her rather brusque, no-nonsense manner and attitude. He happily agreed, extremely chuffed to even be considered despite his creature heritage.

“Hello Filius,” she replied absently as she finished up her task. “With what may I help you?”

“What are those?” he queried as he sat in the chair in front of the desk. One of the first things McGonagall did when she inherited Albus’ job was to replace those ridiculously loudly patterned nightmares with sedate, butter soft brown leather armchairs. The first time Flitwick sat in one of Albus’ monstrosities, the damn thing nearly swallowed him whole, and the headmistress knew that small children would have had a hard time sitting in them, too. She never had a chance to see whether or not her assumptions were true, considering that Albus never called any of the students up to his office.  He preferred to leave all the discipline to the professors, and just observed his little kingdom from on high.

“Vials of memories of which Albus apparently didn’t want anyone to know,” she said a little harshly. “I can only surmise at the contents, and I intend to send these and his pensieve on to Amelia Bones. She’s been looking into Dumbledore’s past actions, to see whether or not his Machiavellian mindset is a new thing, or had been brewing for a great many years. Some of the other information she’s gathered seems to suggest that he’s been plotting for a wizard’s war since his defeat of his lover in 1945.

“I’m not sure at what he was aiming by this, but I’m quite positive that it wouldn’t have been good for our world in any way. Now, with what may I help you?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The house elf popped into Bones’ office with a large nondescript bag on its shoulder, looking at the DMLE Head with large, adoring eyes. It was wearing a tailored dark blue morning suit, with a fine silver pinstripe and forest green lapels. The buttons were made of bronze, and the shoes were a dark red with gold laces, and Amelia rightly assumed that it was a Hogwarts elf. Sighing slightly in frustration because she felt she wasn’t making much headway, despite all the information that Skeeter had been bringing to her, she looked at the little being with a slightly strained smile. “Yes?” she finally said, when the silence stretched on a bit too long. “What may I do for you?”

“I is being Wiry, and I is being bringing you stuff from wrinkled old nut sack's office,” the elf announced, chest puffed out in pride. “Headmistress Cat is being trusting Wiry with Very Important Task.” Bones definitely heard the capital letters in the announcement, and she fought hard not to laugh, afraid she’d offend the little being. After several moments of struggle, she finally gathered her wits enough to smile and nod.

“Thank you, Wiry,” she told the little elf, voice trembling with suppressed hilarity. The elf took no notice as he put the sack on the floor right next to her desk. “Tell the headmistress that I appreciate her help, and let her know that I’m always willing to listen if she has a problem with anything related to some of the things Albus had gotten up to before he was arrested.”

“Yes, Madam Bones Miss, Wiry is being telling headmistress.” With that, the elf popped away, leaving behind a very curious officer of the law.

“I need to get Shacklebolt, Tutuola and Dawlish on this right away,” she murmured as she touched the summoning orb on her desk. Each officer had his or her own receiving orb that would flash a different color, depending on who was calling them, and because magic was all about intent, only those officers she wanted in her office would receive a summons. The Department of Mysteries had worked very hard on creating the globes to make it easier for the DMLE Head to call whomever she wanted. Interoffice memos were all fine and dandy as long as it wasn’t privileged information that was going out, but they were too easily intercepted, which was how Albus was able to keep up on the goings on in the law department before the orbs. It only took a few moments before there was a tap on her door. “Come in,” she barked, sitting back and watching as her best officers came in and closed the door.

“Have a seat, gentlemen,” she invited, gesturing to the three chairs in front of the fireplace. She stood and started pacing back and forth in front of her desk, head down as she thought about how she wanted to assign the pending workload. Sighing slightly, she finally looked at her officers, and the gleam in her eyes had all three men straightening up, hearts beginning to race in anticipation. “I’ve been given a pensieve and a crapload of memories, provided by headmistress McGonagall. She found them in that bureau Albus kept in his office, next to Fawkes’ stand.

“From what I could gather from the house elf who delivered the items, the pensieve is Albus’, and Minerva believes the memories are his, as well. There are quite a lot of them, and I need you three to go over them with a fine toothed comb, to see if there’s anything in them that we can use to keep that old man behind bars for as long as possible.”

“Do you know what they contain?” Kingsley queried eagerly.

“Minerva didn’t send any information about that, so I don’t think she looked at any of them. She’s been disillusioned quite enough by what’s happened so far, so I daresay she didn’t want to completely lose any fond feelings she might still have for her once-friend. He’d had them hidden quite well, so be aware that what you might find may be a little unpleasant, but if we can prevent him from ever seeing the light of day again, it’ll make my job so much easier. This must remain confidential; I don’t want any of his followers finding out what we have and possibly working out a way to help him get out of Azkaban.”

“We’ll do our best, boss,” Odafin said with a firm nod. “You can count on us.”

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February 14, 1990

Sirius Black

Padfoot’s Redoubt

180 Buntings Lane

Glenhope, Vic 3444

 

Sirius,

I’ve just received some more information in the form of memories with pensieve supplied, from Minerva, and they’re quite...interesting. There are far too many for me to go into right now; just know that I’ve got three of my best, most loyal Aurors going over them and jotting down anything that might be used to keep Albus incarcerated for the rest of his natural life. So far, there’s information about the relationship with Grindelwald, and Albus’ own involvement in Nazi Germany before the end of the muggle World War II. There’s plans upon plans upon plans outlining so many different ways that Albus could take and keep control of the magical world that it makes my head spin. There’s even information about the different ideas he has for taking control of the muggle world. It’s...it’s rather frightening, what one maniacal man has planned for us. It’s going to take several months to get through all of it, and whilst we’re going over the information, we’ll be jotting down the relevant parts that pertain to your son, and send them to you.

This isn’t the only reason I’ve contacted you, however. Bartemius Crouch, Jr.’s Mind Healer has stated that he’s as stable as possible, but that keeping him locked in the Janus Thickey ward is doing the young man more harm than good. Between his incarceration in Azkaban and his mindless imprisonment at his father’s house, he’s having a great deal of trouble adjusting to the outside world; what little of it he’s being exposed to at the moment. I was thinking that maybe he could stay with you and yours, to help him recover in a place as far away as possible from those awful memories he must have.

He’s...struggling to regain his sense of self and his humanity, and I’d hate to see him get lost because of what his father did to him for most of his life. Barty wasn’t treated well by the elder Crouch, and the only love and kindness he received was from his mother, who was too ill to protect him from her husband. I think it was part of the reason he turned to Voldemort when he was in school. Being a Death Eater made Barty a part of something, and even though Riddle was terribly cruel, Crouch still felt that the Dark Lord was someone who genuinely cared about him, sad as that is to say. He needs a different sort of support and influence, and I know that you’ve had your own struggles with parents who were abusive, so I think you might be able to reach him where someone else can’t.

I also know that Severus Snape had his share of abuse growing up, so there’s another person to whom Barty could turn to help him deal with his own childhood. Please consider offering him sanctuary with you, and let me know what you decide, so that if you don’t agree, I might be able to find someone else who would give him the help and support he needs.

Sincerely,

Amelia Bones

Head, Department of Magical Law Enforcement

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February 16, 1990

Amelia Bones

Ministry of Magic

Below Number 7-9 Leicester Place

London WC24 7PB, UK

 

Amelia,

I’ve had a chat with everyone here, and we’re all in agreement that Barty can come stay here with us for as long as he likes. You’re right; there are quite a few of us who understand what he’d gone through as a child, and what he was put through after his father helped him escape prison. My own mother would put Reggie and I under the imperius often, just to make us do humiliating things so she could laugh at us. Father was always too afraid to go against her, so he absented himself from the house when she was in a ‘mood’. Severus’ muggle father would beat both he and his mother because of their magic, and it was during Severus’ fifth year that Tobias finally went too far and beat Eileen to death.

There will be plenty for Barty to do here, and we’d be more than happy to have him tutor the children in magical history. It’s one of the few areas that none of us are fully comfortable teaching, but we’ve muddled through the best that we could. I remember Barty being fascinated with all sorts of history, both muggle and magical, and he’d be an asset to the family. Besides, when I mentioned that you wanted us to take him in, our resident Potions Master blushed like a school girl, so hopefully Barty will be able to bring a little bit of extra happiness to our friend’s life.

Remus says that he’d seen Barty watching Severus during school, so Snape’s crush might not be so one-sided. Anyway, I’ve chewed your ear off enough. Enclosed in this letter is a yellow ribbon, charmed to be a portkey. The password is ‘Padfoot’s Redoubt’. Make sure he’s in a private, secure place when he uses it; the password also grants access via floo, so I don’t want everyone and his brother to hear it, and word possibly getting back to the old man. Keep in touch!

Sincerely,

Sirius Black

Chapter 32

Notes:

I do apologize for how long it took me to update again. These last few weeks post-surgery have been a struggle, and I just wasn't feeling it very much. Now that things are finally calming down, I'm feeling more enthusiastic about writing again. Thank you so much for your patience and understanding. I love you guys!

Also, I once again included some of the aboriginal magic from Australia. If I have anything wrong, please let me know. Research into this part of Australian history is sketchy; if you know of some references I could read, please don't hesitate to point me in the right direction.

May 3, 1990

Padfoot’s Redoubt

180 Buntings Lane

Glenhope, Vic 3444

 

Lord Black,

You wanted us to let you know when Bartemius Crouch, Jr. was well enough to be released from St. Mungo’s Janus Thickey Ward. Though they were able to clear most of the muddled thoughts from the young man’s mind, we couldn’t completely cure him. For that, he needs to get away from the world in which he was systematically tortured by his father for nearly eight years, and to a peaceful retreat where he might be able to regain his equilibrium in his own time.

He’d been brainwashed by the Dark Lord, and his father’s treatment of the young man since his escape from Azkaban has only entrenched those skewed ideals within Barty’s mind. Oddly enough, he remembers both you and Severus Snape, and has expressed an eagerness to meet with you both again to renew his acquaintance with you. During his more lucid moments, he’d wished for the kind of friendships you’d had with Remus Lupin and James Potter, and he had expressed regrets that he didn’t put in more effort to get to know you and your friends before he fell in with the ‘wrong crowd’. He’s said that the only bright spot during those years in Hogwarts was knowing that the Potions Master was involved in the same ‘club’ as he was, but he was also quite angry at the way that you had taken after the young man.

All this is to say that Crouch is ready for discharge, and is willing to relocate to Glenhope and recharge his batteries. He may still have times where he might regress, or have flashbacks to what he’d endured under his father’s heavy thumb, but with time, patience and kindness, you should be able to pull him out of those spirals. As for his sentence to Azkaban, that has been commuted. We in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement understand just what kinds of tortures someone kept under the imperius endures, being trapped within one’s own mind with no hope for escape and made to do whatever the caster requires, even if it’s against one’s personal moral code. This is why we decided that what his father forced on him is going to be considered time served, and putting him back in Azkaban to complete his sentence is just piling cruelty on top of cruelty.

We’ve all taken his youth, the neglect at his father’s hands and being an outcast in Slytherin into consideration, and understand that Riddle had represented more of a father figure to Barty’s young, impressionable mind than anyone else. It was because of the broken bonds between father and son that the Dark Lord was able to sink his malevolent claws into Bartemius Crouch, Jr. so very deeply, and we regret not examining his home life further, to perhaps get him treatment for the mental and emotional scarring both Bartemius Crouch, Sr. and Voldemort inflicted on a woefully immature boy. Thank you, once again, for offering to sponsor him and give him a chance at a good life. If things should change, don’t hesitate to contact us and we’ll work out alternate resources for him.

Sincerely,

Amelia Bones, Head

Department of Magical Law Enforcement

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Lucius, Severus and Sirius flooed into the Ministry several days after they’d received the letter from Bones. They took those few days to arrange for an Aboriginal karadji by the name of Djali Waangenga to take Barty into an Alcheringa to help him come to terms with his unresolved issues between himself and Crouch, Sr., who had been stripped of everything when he was prosecuted for the torture of his son. The Dreamtime would also get rid of the last of the Dark Lord’s influence, which was tightly wound around junior’s mind and spirit. Riddle had included some rather nasty spells in the Dark Mark that entwined with the recipients’ minds, so that he could control their actions, behaviors and very thoughts from a distance. Unfortunately for Barty, those spells bent and twisted what might have been a mentor-protégé kind of bond into something nearly obsessive for the young man.

“Lord Lupin-Black, Lord Malfoy, Potions Master Snape,” Amelia said as she slowly approached the trio. “I am very glad to see you. The Mind Healers in St. Mungo’s did what they could, and Barty Crouch is better and looking forward to relocating, but he still has moments where he’ll slip back into that insanity that Voldemort had inflicted on the poor man during the end of his first reign. I thought you, Lord Black, would be most understanding of what Crouch went through, since your mother was cut from the same cloth as Bartemius Crouch, Sr.”

“Before his sixth year in Hogwarts, Barty was funny, if a little sad at times,” Sirius said softly. “I know I targeted a lot of the Slytherins, but there was something in Crouch’s eyes that spoke of loneliness and neglect, and so I made sure that James and I left him alone as much as we could.”

“I am actually surprised that you didn’t chuck him back into Azkaban, Amelia,” Lucius remarked blandly. “I would have thought that you would have insisted on his continued incarceration, considering his role in the Longbottoms’ torture at the end of the war.”

“Barty didn’t do any actual torture,” she explained as she led them to her office, where Crouch, Jr. was waiting. “He was only the lookout whilst the Lestranges ‘took care of business’. His incarceration was more because he was there and bore the Dark Mark than because he’d actually joined in with Bella, her husband and her brother-in-law. Bartemius wanted to look like he was tough on the Death Eaters, despite his instituting martial law and the use of the Unforgivables during the war. You know, I don’t think he ever really saw his son as anything but an extension of himself, and when the boy turned to someone else for approval and validation, that allowed the then DMLE Head to wash his hands of his son, and his own failure as a father.”

They got to the office, and when Bones opened the door, the occupant inside nearly jumped out of his skin. His wide, dark eyes stared at the three men entering behind the DMLE Head, and his facial expressions cycled between fear, relief and excitement all at once. It’s a wonder he isn’t ill from the stress, Severus thought a little worriedly. I might have to keep some mood stabilizers on hand for a while, until he’s able to completely adjust to his change of circumstances.

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The door at the end of the cell block squeaked open, and both Dumbledore and Moody stood up and watched carefully to see who was coming. The silence between the two former old friends had grown thick and uncomfortable after Alistor quite loudly and vocally cut ties with the old man. His rant was heard in the warden’s office, and the guards had a good laugh at the former Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump’s expense.

“I have had about all I can stand of your whinging and puling, Albus!” the retired Auror had bellowed, his voice echoing through the prison. More than one prisoner had screamed or jumped at the sudden sound, sure that a horde of banshees had somehow invaded Azkaban. “That boy is with people who love him, and will raise him to be a proper Lord one day! There is no more Voldemort! Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Remus Black-Lupin, Sirius Lupin-Black and Severus Snape terminated him for good to protect their children! How many different ways to I have to say it before it sinks into your tiny little mind?! Merlin! How I never noticed your obsessive-compulsive personality and your deep desire to micromanage everyone and everything is beyond me! You desperately need to seek the help of a Mind Healer, Albus, before you go too far and end up in someone’s dungeons, on the receiving end of a plethora of torture curses! Now leave me alone!”

“Alistor Moody, the Minister and madam Bones wish to speak with you,” the guard said as he approached the occupied cells. The former Auror stood up from his bunk, his normal eye glinting with apprehension, wondering what fresh hell to which he was about to be sentenced as the guard opened the door.

“Young man,” came an unwelcome voice from the next lockup. “I have waited patiently for the Minister to reexamine my case and find me innocent, but my patience is wearing thin. Please remind Cornelius that my tolerance for his disrespect is not limitless, and that, should he not see to my immediate release, I will have no choice but to make Amelia aware of some of his baser sins. Do remind him that I know where all of his skeletons are buried, and I will not hesitate to drag them into the light of day.”

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May 15, 1990

The Daily Prophet

DUMBLEDORE’S SINS COME HOME TO ROOST!

Abuses committed against all segments of magical society

Rita Skeeter, reporter

Well, dear readers, you thought Albus Dumbledore’s wrongs only extended to little Harry James Lupin-Black, but you would be woefully mistaken. It seems our venerable elder statesman is a common thief, as well as the mastermind behind several well-documented but unsolved deaths of some very important people to our world, but I’ll get there in a moment. It seems that Albus Dumbledore, in his post as Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, used that position to steal from many, many muggleborns raised outside our borders. How, you may ask? He secretly arranged for the muggleborns to have heritage tests at Gringotts, using the blood that mediwitch Poppy Pomfrey took for her records. In speaking to the goblins, they told this reporter that he used the excuse of ‘trying to find magical relatives to whom the children could be sent, should the unthinkable happen’.

In point of fact, when he discovered that certain muggleborn children were related to some of the richest magical lines in our world, he had them sign contracts turning over all to which they’d have had access, once recognized by Gringotts, so that he could increase his own personal wealth. He then sent those same muggleborns back to their muggle relatives, where many of them were brutalized or beaten to death because of their magic. This would then leave Albus Dumbledore sole controller of the wealth. He didn’t do this with students who had living ties to the magical world; he only robbed from those whose wizarding families had gone extinct. Many of these muggleborns, from respected extinct lines, would have been welcomed by other magical families willing to foster them, so that they could reawaken those lost heritages.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is not all, however. It appears that Albus Dumbledore had his right hand man, Alistor Moody, assassinate Fabian and Gideon Prewett. Why? Because Albus Dumbledore wanted to use the assassination to destroy the reputation of a specific Unspeakable, so that he could get access to the research that Augustus Rookwood and his compatriots were working on in the Department of Mysteries. He wanted to use the information to try and bring the muggle and magical worlds together. Considering his and Grindelwald’s ideas of this ‘togetherness’, I can only imagine that Rookwood was working on some sort of esoteric magic that would have successfully subdued the muggles so that they could be more easily managed.

According to my information, Moody was to be polyjuiced as Rookwood, and was to kill the Prewett twins, with witnesses to the crime. As we all know, according to the reports of their deaths, they were killed at night, in an isolated town. How someone was supposed to ‘witness’ these murders and pin them on Rookwood is anyone’s guess. For what it’s worth, this reporter believes that Fabian and Gideon got too close to some of the old man’s secrets and had to be eliminated. So he used the excuse of framing an Unspeakable to get his way, at the expense of Moody’s soul.

This last bit is unsubstantiated for now, but with the deep investigation into Dumbledore’s history and actions, evidence may come to light to support this in the future. It seems that Albus Dumbledore, in order to test his ‘weapon’ against the dead Dark Lord Voldemort, was to engineer the revival of the Triwizard Tournament during Harry Lupin-Black’s school term, using the boy to resurrect the Dark Lord. No doubt Albus would arrange things so that little Lupin-Black would have to compete as an underaged contestant. With the attempts to try and build a smear campaign against the boy almost from the moment he was orphaned, this reporter believes that Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was trying to create a willing sacrifice on the alter of his Greater Good.