A letter came to Hermione from her father. Her father wanted her to send him regular reports about Harry and the gang. She was already writing about Harry in nearly every letter home. Apparently, her father wanted to know more. She answered the letter. She politely declined her father’s request.
Another letter came to Hermione. This time, it was from Amelia Bones. Hermione asked Harry for a private talk. The escort was asked to hang back while Harry and Hermione walked together on the path around the lake.
“Harry, I have been getting some odd letters. I got one from my father, and it sounds like he wants me to spy on you. Usually, I tell my parents everything we are doing, but he wants more details about you and what you do with your allies. I don’t understand why. I told my father that, and I declined his request.”
“You said letters. Are there more?” Harry asked.
“A few days after I answered my father, I got a letter from Director Bones. This one was more formal. She said that she and Lord Greengrass were talking to my father about some things they were concerned about. Things like how those people who knew about Tom Riddle Senior knew to ask me.”
Harry thought for a while. “That would be the ‘old friends’ your father talks about. They know far too much about the magical world.”
Hermione monologued her concerns. “You said that they must have a squib in their group. How many squibs are there? Can we find out? Also, how many wizards and witches leave the magical world and never return? They must hide their magic, but if they are muggle-born or half-blood, they could fit in with mundane society. In our year in Gryffindor, Dean Thomas and I could easily return to the mundane world. It might be the same in Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw doesn’t have many muggle-borns, and Slytherin has none. When you add that up over the years, hundreds of witches and wizards could live outside of magical society.”
“Hermione, what did Amelia want you to do?”
“She asked me to write out as much detail as my father wants about what we are doing here and send it to him. She said it was a fair trade. My father is doing the same on the other side. He regularly meets with Director Bones and Lord Greengrass to trade information.”
“Thank you for telling me that, Hermione. I think you should make those reports. I saw that the situation was tricky from the moment that I saw the name your father gave me. If they know about Tom Marvolo Riddle, they already know far too much to ignore.”
Hermione brushed her curls back in a nervous movement.
“What do I say? Will I be charged with endangering the secrecy of the magical world?”
Harry laughed. “I think the point is that there is no secrecy anymore. I’m afraid that the government intelligence services are aware of us and are now asking for details to fill in the remaining gaps.”
Hermione shook her head. “What are they going to do?”
Harry frowned. “I have no idea. One of my tutors calls them ‘spooks’. They try to keep everything about themselves secret. But secrecy rarely works. People can be turned by many different things. One of the most effective is money. The history of spies and spying is littered with betrayals fueled by regular bags of cash.”
Hermione shook her head again. “So, what do I put in my reports to Dad?”
Harry shrugged, “You can tell him the details of the school, the headmaster, the teachers, and recent graduates. You can give the names of the most dangerous future supporters of any muggle-hating dark lord. Start with Draco Malfoy and work down from there.”
“What about the Statute of Secrecy?” Hermione was worried.
Harry shook his head, “The International Statute of Secrecy is dead. Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters killed it when they started the Blood War. Lord Greengrass told me in our first meetings that every government security service in the world is tracking wizards and discovering more about magic. They investigated all the dead bodies that started turning up. Voldemort loved using the Killing Curse. It is pure magic and leaves no trace. That put a marker on every Blood War killing, and the authorities investigated every unexplained death. They then found some of the exiles from the Wizarding World. The squibs who were driven out, and the muggle-borns who were never accepted in Wizarding society.”
“Is anything secret anymore? Why don’t our teachers know this?”
Harry shrugged, “There are still secrets and powers only available to magicals. The ‘ old friends ‘ and others like them are being careful. What they are mainly doing is investigating all the blank spaces. They find people who have no history. In any modern society, everyone has records going back to their birth. If a name appears somewhere and is never seen again, it is investigated. A lot of the time, those names are fake. Ordinary criminals use fake names all the time. Tracing the gaps has found a lot of organised crime, but it is also finding careless magical people.”
Hermione huffed, “The Ministry of Magic doesn’t know. How can they not know?”
“Aunt Amelia knows,” Harry said. “People like Fudge won’t listen to her. Also, she isn’t going to say too much. If she does, Fudge will send out the obliviators to attack everywhere. That will just give even more evidence to the ‘ old friends ‘. They will fill in the mysterious memory gaps and carry on. If the Ministry gets too aggressive, there will be a reaction which will not be good for the magical world. In the end, numbers will always win. The mundane outnumber magicals a thousand to one. There will be casualties, but the mundane know how to win, and they will accept those casualties to eliminate the threat.”
“What can we do? Will there be a conflict? Will there be a Muggle versus Wizard war?”
Harry shrugged, “I think that depends on what wizards do. The ‘ old friends ‘ have known about us for years, and nothing has happened. It seems that they will only act if another Dark Wizard tries to overthrow governments and establish a wizard-controlled regime.”
Hermione frowned. “OK, I guess.”
-ooOOoo-
“Amelia and Cyrus are digging for information from the other side. They want to present a list of people living in the mundane world to the obliviators. There is no chance that the obliviators will get them all. The ‘old friends’ strategy will work. Anyone who turns up with no memory of the wizarding world will have the memory gaps filled in, and they will then carry on. Amelia and Cyrus are protecting themselves from attacks from Fudge and his cronies. The ‘ old friends ‘ might even tolerate having a few low-level people named to keep the Ministry diverted.”
“Will they recruit people just to betray them?”
“The ‘ old friends ‘ might present a happy, friendly face, but underneath that, they are as tough as they need to be to protect themselves. This is what spies do. They find gullible ‘wannabe’ secret agents. They give them some harmless information and let the opposition know about them. The spy catchers then catch a spy. The spy-catcher’s masters are happy that the spy-catching business is working, and they go home satisfied that they have done their job.”
“Idiots.”
-ooOOoo-
Homework was finished. Preparations for bedtime were completed. Tracey came to Daphne’s room for their usual last conversation of the day.
Tracey perched on the chair and grinned. “Have you told your father about the Heir of Slytherin and how he humiliated Malfoy?”
“Yes, and I said that I think Malfoy will react badly. Pansy is rubbing Draco’s nose in it, and Draco does not like it. Draco can’t accept that his father isn’t rich anymore.”
“Is Lord Malfoy really that poor? The Malfoys have run the traditional side of politics for so long that it’s hard to think of them not being in charge anymore.”
Daphne shook her head. “Lucius Malfoy isn’t poor. He still has a large income, but he now has many expenses that he must pay. The problem for Malfoy is that after he pays what he owes to Gringotts, he doesn’t have enough to pay the usual bribes to Fudge and the other Ministry officials, who usually get paid off. The most embarrassing thing is that he can’t pay what he owes to his old Death Eater pals like Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle.”
Tracey smiled, “So Draco is going to wander around alone. He never had to try to make friends, and now he is paying for it.”
Daphne nodded, “He could still make trouble. Harry shouldn’t let him get away with anything.”
“Which brings us to the red-hot topic for the night. How is Project Harry going? Is he going to be your constant companion?” Tracey asked with a gleeful grin.
“I’m not going to put myself in that position again. I will not let my silliness rule me.” Daphne said.
“Oh no! That sounds grim. You’re not returning to the Ice Princess plan, are you?”
Daphne looked at Tracey and said, “Good night, Tracey.”
-ooOOoo-
“MASTER JUST HARRY! Wake up!”
Harry turned up the lights and let the shadows of sleep run away.
“What is it, Dobby?”
“I have it, Master Just Harry. I have Mistress Rowena’s diadem.” Dobby stood next to Harry’s bed, holding a charmed magical strongbox.
“It’s in here. I was careful. I didn’t touch it. I levitated it into the box and brought it straight to you.”
Harry took out his wand and cast a Tempus charm. The time was 3:42 in the morning.
Harry took a breath. “Thank you, Dobby. Please take the box to Lord Greengrass’ strongroom at Greengrass Manor. Let Lord Greengrass know that it is there. Don’t wake him. Tell him in the morning.”
Dobby nodded rapidly and popped away.
Harry turned the lights down. If Dobby had been seen or had tripped some alarm, there would be trouble in the morning.
“Like anything I do is normal,” Harry muttered as sleep returned.
-ooOOoo-
The first of three Wizengamot sessions before the mid-winter break had started. Albus breathed a sigh of relief. He had spent weeks meeting with his supporters, and at last, he felt sure of his safety as Chief Warlock. So much time had been taken up with answering silly questions from the Light supporters he had not been able to stay in the Hogwarts Castle for more than two nights in the last three months.
Dumbledore nodded to a uniformed Wizengamot officer, who bellowed to the assembly, “ORDER! This session of the Wizengamot shall come to order!”
The clerk of the session then called, “Any membership notices will now be heard.”
A junior clerk handed a scroll to the session clerk, who then unrolled the scroll and read out the notice.
“His Lordship, the Earl of Blackmoor, presents himself to the Wizengamot to be recognised and to take his seat in this assembly.”
The uniformed officer bellowed again. “LET THE EARL OF BLACKMOOR COME FORWARD!”
Sirius entered from a side door and walked to the middle of the Wizengamot Chamber. He faced the Chief Warlock’s throne, which was behind and above the rows of desks the clerks and other officers occupied. Sirius wore the finest robes with the Black crest embroidered into the cape and coat. His hair was clean and tied back in a ponytail secured by a heavy silver clasp. It was his face and bearing that took the attention of the onlookers. Sirius was calm and smiling. He glowed with good health and graceful strength. He walked to his place with an energy that said, “I belong here! I know I belong here, and you all know too!”
Dumbledore was stunned. He finally summoned enough presence of mind to say something.
“Lord Black! It seems that you have been released from St. Mungos. I understood that you needed years to recover from your suffering in Azkaban. I doubt you are sufficiently recovered to be allowed your liberty, much less taking your seat in the Wizengamot.”
Sirius smiled and replied, “Chief Warlock! I have recently received my clearance from St Mungo’s Rehabilitation. I am free to go anywhere I wish and take up my responsibilities in the Wizengamot and as head of the House of Black.”
Dumbledore looked around for his supporters. He spied the Director of St Mungo’s in the Ministry department head’s section.
“Healer Marks! As Director of St Mungo’s, do you support this development?” Dumbledore demanded.
The healer rose to reply. “Chief Warlock, I have reviewed Lord Black’s remarkable progress with the St Mungo’s Rehab healers. We all believe that Lord Black should be welcomed back into our society, and we support his application to take his seat in the Wizengamot.”
Dumbledore’s next question was aimed at Amelia Bones.
“Director Bones! Do you want to see Lord Black given his liberty? Are you aware of his behaviour since being released from Azkaban?”
Amelia stood and waited for the loud murmurs from the Wizengamot members and the public gallery to die away.
“Chief Warlock! I support the opinions of the St. Mungo’s healers. They are duty-bound to give honest opinions in these matters. I also know that their professional judgements should not be questioned as easily as you are doing now, Chief Warlock.”
Sirius spoke again, “Chief Warlock! If I may, I would like to talk about your concerns.”
Dumbledore smiled, “Of course, my boy! Please tell us what you have been doing since you were released.”
Sirius smiled; he knew Dumbledore expected him to ramble and rage about not being allowed to return to Hogwarts with James Potter.
Sirius walked in a circle and caught the eyes of as many Wizengamot members and others as he could.
“Esteemed members of the Wizengamot! I am the first to admit that my years in Azkaban were not kind to me. I was confused and disoriented when I was first released. The cruelty and deprivation inflicted on prisoners in that place are not exaggerated. I quickly found a way to survive when I was imprisoned, and I will now reveal it to you. I am an animagus. I was not registered at the time, but I am now. I spent as much time as I could in my animagus form, a large dog. That protected me from the worst effects of the dementors. The habit of hiding away from the outside world was hard to break once I was released. For a while, I retreated into my thirteen-year-old self. I didn’t react well when placed at my old family home at Grimauld Place. That culminated in the incident that the Chief Warlock is referring to. I waited until the house was empty and sent the house elf away. Then I burned the old house to the ground.”
The noise around the Chamber increased. Sirius waited for the talk to die away and then resumed.
“If any of you have visited the house in recent years, you may understand why I did that. It was such a mess that removing it was the best way of dealing with it.”
Lord Blishwick, an old Black family ally, shouted, “It was a terrible dump!”
Sirius pointed at him and shouted, ”EXACTLY!”
Most of the members laughed. Dumbledore tried to regain control.
“What of the library and the family history? Why did you burn it?”
Sirius faced Dumbledore. “The house elf removed the irreplaceable things. The portraits were copies of portraits kept in other places. Why are you concerned with the dark and dangerous things collected by my family? As Leader of the Light, you should be happy they are gone.”
Dumbledore searched the Chamber for an ally. Some of his friends in the place looked away.
Sirius spoke again, “Now, I admit that it might not have been the cleverest thing I have ever done, but I am happy that 12 Grimauld Place is now vacant land. If any of you want a valuable piece of inner London real estate, the land is for sale. I have contracted the goblins to remove the old Black family wards and all traces of the old house, so any buyer will have a clean site to build on.”
“I think we have heard enough!” Dumbledore said. “Will anyone move that Lord Black be recognised by the Wizengamot?”
Wands were raised in response. Cyrus Greengrass called out, “I move that the Earl of Blackmoor be recognised!”
A dozen other voices seconded the motion. The session clerk recorded the mover and seconders.
The uniformed officer commanded. “Lord Black! Touch the Stone of Truth with your signet ring! Magic will declare the truth of your claim to a seat in the Wizengamot.”
Sirius stepped up to a table in front of the official seats. The Stone of Truth, enchanted by Merlin himself, lay on the table. It was a granite slab as long as a man’s arm, half as wide as long and half as deep as it was wide. The stone reacted to anyone touching it while speaking. It cast a blue light around the speaker who said the truth and a red light around a liar. It was rarely used in Wizengamot debates for obvious reasons.
Sirius touched his head-of-house ring to the stone and said. “I am Sirius Orion Black. I am head of the House of Black. I am entitled to claim the House of Black seat in the Wizengamot.”
Blue light shone around Sirius as he spoke.
Dumbledore groaned and growled. “All in favour of recognising Lord Black and his claim to the Black seat in the Wizengamot; light your wands now.”
Two-thirds of the Wizengamot member’s wands were raised and lit.
“All against!”
A dozen wands were raised, and some members did not vote.
“Carried!” Dumbledore growled.
Sirius walked to a vacant desk and chair placed in the front row of the members. The high-backed chair had the Black family crest displayed on it. The Wizengamot applauded. Many members were secretly appalled. The Wizengamot had been a calm and peaceful place. Now that the Black of Black was back, any hope of peaceful tranquillity was shattered.
The business of the Wizengamot resumed with the reception of reports from committees and subcommittees and the introduction of new legislation, which all tightened the Ministry’s control over the lives of the ordinary people. Sirius sat at his desk and wrote a letter to Harry. He had started writing to Harry once a week. The first thing that Sirius had to do was apologise for the fits of delusions that had driven Harry away. On the desk beside his letter was an open journal. It was linked to journals kept by Amelia Bones and Cyrus Greengrass. Amelia and Cyrus had invited Sirius to join this unofficial alliance to support Harry. If the traditionalists and Dumbledore’s Light supporters had their way, their society would dwindle and fade away. If Voldemort and the Death Eaters returned, the future would bring messy and total ruin to magical society. Sirius had joined Amelia and Cyrus in their campaign to give magical Britain some kind of future.
The business of the Wizengamot was completed.
The session clerk started the formal closing procedure.
“Any member petitions for the next session will now be heard!”
Sirius stood. “I, Sirius Orion Black, place a petition before the Wizengamot to claim the Magical Guardianship for Master Harry James Potter, presently attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”
Dumbledore glared at Sirius. “Lord Black! I am Harry’s Magical Guardian. There is no need for that to change.”
Sirius raised his hand and said. “Members of the Wizengamot, I am Master Harry Potter’s sworn godfather by the wizarding godfather ritual. It is most irregular to have Master Potter’s Magical Guardianship placed with anyone other than his godfather. After all, it is the godfather’s job to do everything that a child’s natural parents would do once the child’s parents pass away.”
“Your petition is out of order. The Wizengamot will not consider it.” Dumbledore declared.
Tiberius Ogden stood in place and called out. “Chief Warlock! You are the one who is out of order! Lord Black’s petition is lawful and to be expected. We have all seen the legal records. Lord Black is Harry Potter’s godfather. To set aside his petition as you are trying to do is against our law.”
Dumbledore glared around the Chamber. Other members shouted support for Sirius. If it came to a vote, Dumbledore would suffer another embarrassing defeat. Dumbledore caught sight of Amelia Bones in her DMLE Director’s seat. She glared back at Dumbledore, the Wizengamot Chamber lights reflected in the magical glass of her monocle. Dumbledore felt the walls close in on him. Amelia had deprived Dumbledore of his controlling majority in the Wizengamot, and there was no time to claw the numbers back.
“Very well! Your petition will be considered during the next session.” Dumbledore growled while giving Sirius a stare which promised trouble.
The session finally ended, and Sirius was surrounded by members trying to congratulate him. They would have turned away a few weeks ago if they saw him coming. The impact of the rent collections had caused some significant attitude changes.
Outside the Wizengamot Chamber, a more welcome person waited for him. Alicia Belby had continued to visit Sirius after the St Mungo’s Rehab healers had given him his freedom. They had developed a lively relationship. Sirius said whatever he wanted to, but now he considered the impact of what he said before letting it out. This was totally new for Sirius, who grew up shouting out whatever he wanted to, not caring a bit about what devastation that might cause someone else. Alicia enjoyed his company.
Alicia walked up to Sirius, and he took her arm. “I got away with it! They did whatever I wanted! Astounding!”
Alicia smiled, “Of course they did. They’re not all stupid. Many of them still owe money and other favours to the House of Black. Now, where are we going to celebrate?”
Sirius smiled at her, “Somewhere not inhabited by politicians and wizards. Let’s try that curry house in Walthamstow your friends were talking about.”
-ooOOoo-
The older Hogwarts students had left for a Hogsmeade weekend. The second-years were not allowed to visit the wizarding village. Harry and his gang took advantage of the absence of the house Quidditch teams to practice shooting goals at one end of the Quidditch pitch. They took turns playing goalkeeper. No one wanted the job permanently. Harry noticed two people searching the Gryffindor spectator stand. They were Ronald and Ginny Weasley. Eventually, Ronald sat in the stand, and Ginny joined the practising gang.
“You look like you’re searching for something,” Harry said.
Ginny shrugged, “Ron has lost his Weasley sigil.”
“What is that?”
“It’s a medallion made in the shape of the Weasley coat-of-arms. All the Weasley boys are given one when they start at Hogwarts. They are supposed to wear it all the time.”
Ginny stopped speaking, and her face changed. She had suddenly thought of something.
“The boys always wear the same sigil, not me.”
Harry saw the sudden change and tried to get more information.
“Do Fred and George wear theirs all the time?”
Ginny looked at Harry, “I don’t know. I’ll ask them.”
Fred and George had visited Hogsmeade early and returned to join the practice.
She flew off to cut Fred out of the practice line. Harry followed.
“Fred, are you wearing your sigil right now?”
Fred looked at Ginny and opened his mouth to answer. No answer came.
Ginny reached out and slapped Fred’s shoulder.
“You were about to lie to me, weren’t you!”
Fred found his voice, “Ah! Yeah! I didn’t want to admit that George and I take the sigils off once we get on the train, and we don’t put them on again until we get back to King’s Cross Station or when Mum and Dad visit.”
“Why? Why take them off? Dad told you to wear them all the time!”
George moved into the conversation, “Because they interfere with our potion brewing and prank work.”
“Prank work! That’s not work! That’s just fooling around!”
Fred was horrified, “Ginny! How can you say such blasphemy!”
George carried on, “Pranks are our life calling. Our noble lifetime work for which the name Weasley will be remembered.”
Fred added, “For a while, at least.”
Ginny moved in for the telling question. “That’s why you two don’t always hate the Slytherins, right?”
George stared at Ginny, “The sigils! They carry a curse!”
Fred slapped his forehead. “Of course! How stupid! I’m stupid for not seeing it!”
George snorted, “The Weasley family is stupid for carrying on with this for so long. It must have gone on for generations.”
Ginny said, “I’ll talk to Percy. He might want to talk to Bill about this. Bill can then ask Dad.”
Ron mounted his borrowed school broom and flew up to them. “What are you talking about? Can you help me find my sigil?”
Fred answered, “You might want to forget about your sigil, Ron.”
“Why?”
Ron turned to Harry, who was listening at the edge of the group. “What are you doing here?”
Harry answered, “I’m listening. It’s quite interesting.”
Ginny moved to confront Ron.
“Ron! Don’t say anything about Slytherins.”
“WHY NOT! WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT IN FRONT OF A SLYTHERIN?”
George laughed, “We are discussing the Weasley family magic’s deepest, darkest secrets. What do you think we are talking about?”
“YOU’RE NOT! WE DON’T HAVE FAMILY MAGIC!”
Fred sighed, “Ah! Ronald! You have found us out. However, I do have a question for you.”
“A question! What is it?”
Fred smiled, “Do you really want to find your sigil? Also, have you ever thought about why we Weasleys have one? Is it required by Weasley family magic?”
George added, “Which we don’t have, as you already said.”
Ron huffed and looked around, “I only want it back so I don’t have to tell Dad I lost it.”
Ginny looked at Harry, who shrugged. Then she faced Ron, “While you are thinking of how you will spin this to our dad, Ron, do you want to stand in as goalkeeper? I know you want to practice.”
Ron stared at Ginny. Finally, he answered, “Yes, I’ll be the keeper.”
Fred smiled, “Are you sure about that, Ron?”
George pointed to the practice group, “There are Slytherins here. There’s Miss Greengrass, Miss Davis, Mister Zabini and our very own trainee dark lord, Mister Harry Potter.”
Ron shrugged, “I’ll be the keeper.”
Ginny flew back to practice. Percy will get the question tonight. Then there will be a letter to Bill, who will put it to the Weasley head-of-house. The question will be, “Why do all Weasley boys carry something which makes them hate Slytherins?”
174Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLCrP0dabDv
