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Chapter Text

Wednesday, 30th October 1991, a little after 9 p.m
Gryffindor first-year girls’ dormitory

As twelve-year-old Hermione Granger prepared for bed, she was miserable.

In primary school, she had been a genius, she had been lonely and she had been bullied. Now history was repeating itself at Hogwarts, with Draco Malfoy of Slytherin and Ron Weasley of Gryffindor being her tormentors.

Almost everyone else avoided Hermione, probably because she was fanatic about homework. When other students could not avoid Hermione, they spoke with her as little as possible. Only Neville Longbottom was her friend—sort of. What a pair they made: the timid boy who feared he was a Squib, and the insufferable know-it-all with the bushy hair and the big front teeth.

It galled Hermione that she, who could stand up and give an impromptu lecture about the science of lasers, about ancient Egypt or about the history of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, knew nothing about how to make friends.

Hermione had believed she had made a friend with Harry Potter on the firstie train. But Harry Potter had definitely made friends with Ron Weasley on the firstie train; and in the two months since that day, Weasley had poisoned the foetal friendship between Harry and Hermione. Now Harry was no friendlier to Hermione than he was to a first-year Hufflepuff, say, or to a first-year Ravenclaw.

(Speaking of Ravenclaws, Hermione now bitterly regretted browbeating the Sorting Hat into putting her into Gryffindor. If Hermione were offered a Re-Sort, she would drop her bum onto that stool in a heartbeat—Hermione was so lonely in Gryffindor.)

Hermione’s only consolation, since coming to Hogwarts, was that she was learning about magic—some of the time. DADA and History of Magic were much less instructive than they could be, and Potions was a torment to be endured. Thankfully Transfiguration, Herbology and Charms all were taught well.

The first-year Gryffindors’ next class, tomorrow morning, was Charms, which was taught by Professor Flitwick. Tomorrow he would be teaching the Levitation Charm. Hermione was confident that in Charms, she would learn something, which was good because right now, learning was Hermione’s only joy in this school.

Anyway, tomorrow morning Hermione would put quill to parchment and would take notes about Charms—

Unlike Harry and Ron, who often chatted with each other instead of writing down what Professor Flitwick was saying. The Boy Who Lived is a layabout, Hermione thought. Shameful.

****

Hermione was so caught up in her misery that she did not notice that tonight she had changed her routine.

Normally, before going to bed, Hermione put her books and her writing supplies in her trunk, then removed her nightgown from her trunk. Normally Hermione took off the Hogwarts robes and daytime clothes that she was wearing, then dumped them in the hamper; then Hermione donned her nightgown, brushed her teeth for the last time that day and climbed into bed.

But tonight, without realising it, Hermione did not dump her Hogwarts robes in the hamper; instead, Hermione folded today’s robes and placed them atop her nightstand. Instead of putting her writing supplies in her trunk, Hermione put her writing supplies on her nightstand as well, all whilst she was unaware of what she was doing.

****

An hour later
Still in the first-year Gryffindor girls’ dormitory

Lavender Brown woke up from a happy dream. At first she could not guess what woke her.

Lavender looked about the dark dormitory room and saw Hermione Granger standing up and moving about by her bed. Granger was glowing with a purple glow.

This confused Lavender.

Lavender had the magic of Seer sight. This magic was not strong in her; still, Lavender sometimes got feelings, which she had learnt to act upon. But uniquely for Seers, Lavender also could see Seer magic in others. Aunt Placida, Sybill Trelawney and Lavender’s own mirror-reflection all had purple tongues of flame above their heads that only Lavender could see. Nobody else at Hogwarts, including Granger, had shown even a moment’s flicker of purple flame—so why was Granger now glowing head-to-toe purple?

“Lavender!” Parvati Patil whispered from the next bed. “Are you awake? Granger is sleepwalking!”

Lavender looked closer. Granger had pulled her Gryffindor robes on over her nightgown, and now was dropping quills, her ink bottle and parchment into the pockets of her robes. Granger’s face was blank and her eyes, though open, were vacant.

Lavender whispered back to Parvati, “She’s under a spell. But yes, she’s acting like she’s sleepwalking. We should follow her.”

By now purple-glowing, vacant-eyed Granger had walked out of the dormitory (leaving her wand on her nightstand), and was heading down the stairs to the common room. Lavender grabbed her wand off her own nightstand, then she and Parvati followed Granger. Granger took no notice of Lavender and Parvati—or of anyone else.

Granger walked through the common room and out the portrait hole. The prefects were so surprised that only Percy Weasley said anything—

“Firsties, stop! It’s after your bedtime.”

Lavender, whilst following Granger, said to Weasley, “She’s under a spell. We’re protecting her.”

Parvati said, “Even if she’s only sleepwalking, don’t wake her.”

****

Blank-faced Granger walked slowly, but with no hesitation, from Gryffindor Tower through dark and quiet corridors to other parts of the castle. Meanwhile, Lavender, Parvati and Percy followed her.

Percy asked Lavender, “You think she’s under a spell?”

“Yes,” Lavender replied. “Someone or some thing is calling Granger, and Seer magic is involved somehow.”

“How do you know this?” Percy asked sceptically.

“I have Seer magic, and I can see Seer magic in other people. Right now Granger is covered with Seer magic, though she’s never shown any such magic before.”

****

Percy asked lowly, “What’s Granger like in class? Ron says he can’t stand her.”

Parvati snorted. “That’s no surprise. Of us ten first-year Gryffindors, Ron is the laziest, whilst Granger is the hardest-working.”

Lavender said lowly, “But the readings and essays and spells are all Granger ever talks about. She never relaxes, and she never tries to be a friend.”

Parvati said, “I don’t think she knows how to be a friend. Even though Padma thinks Granger is smarter than most or all of the Ravenclaws in our year.”

Lavender said, “My Seer feeling is that Granger is lonely.”

****

After a time, Granger walked to a round floor that was at the end of a corridor. But instead of this floor holding stairs that led to a room above, in the centre of the round floor was a ladder, which led up and into an open trapdoor. Through the open trapdoor came light, and the sound of a woman singing.

Granger walked to the ladder and began to climb it.

“What’s up there?” Parvati asked.

“Divination classroom,” Lavender and Percy said together.

Then Percy looked at Lavender. “How do you know it’s the Divination classroom? Divination is a third-year elective.”

Lavender replied, “I want to work as a fortune-teller one day. My second day here, I went looking for Trelawney’s classroom and I talked to her for two hours.”

“Professor Trelawney’s classroom,” sleepwalker Granger said as she climbed the ladder.

Lavender, then Parvati and Percy, followed Granger up the ladder.

****

A minute later, in the Divination classroom

As Lavender stepped off the ladder and into the classroom, she discovered that Granger had lost her purple glow. Granger was awake now, and was freaking out—

“Where am I? Ma’am, who are you? Lavender, what’s going on?”

Trelawney replied, “Child, I too am wondering what is going on. You entered my classroom in a magical trance, then immediately awakened from it.”

Lavender looked at Granger and nodded. “You climbed out of bed, Hermione, then you were called here to Divination. Professor Trelawney, this is Hermione Granger, a first-year Gryffindor. Hermione, this is Professor Trelawney.”

As soon as Percy stepped off the ladder and entered the classroom, Lavender’s world turned weird again—

Now it was Professor Trelawney’s face that went slack. Professor Trelawney’s voice deepened and turned strange.

Also, the tongue of purple flame above Trelawney’s head that Lavender had spotted when she first had entered the classroom, grew into a raging purple bonfire of Seer magic; the purple fire seemingly was burning Trelawney from head to toe. Lavender had never seen anything like this.

Trelawney pointed a finger at Granger and commanded, “HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER, PREPARE TO WRITE WHAT I SAY.”

Granger, looking confused, did nothing but stare at the woman.

Trelawney repeated, “HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER, PREPARE TO WRITE WHAT I SAY.”

Lavender said, “Hermione, check your pockets. You stuffed your pockets before you walked out.”

Granger muttered, “How am I wearing my robes? I know I took them off before I climbed into bed.”

But Granger obediently walked to a table, removed the ink bottle, parchment and two quills from her pockets and set them on the table, then sat down. Whilst wearing an expression of I can’t believe this is happening to me, Granger said, “I’m ready, professor.”

Then Trelawney began to speak a prophecy—in French. A language which Lavender could speak not one word of. Lavender looked at Parvati and Percy—they looked just as bewildered by the torrent of French as Lavender was.

As for Granger, she was alternating between staring at Professor Trelawney in shock, and scribbling on her parchment like a madwoman.

****

This is what Hermione wrote down—

“Écoute-moi, fille de guérisseurs de dents. Demain, deux amis t’approchent, un véritable ami et un faux ami. Un jour, tu choisiras lequel épouser. Si tu épouses le faux ami, ta vie sera ensuite ordinaire, et tu sangloteras de regret pendant tout le reste de tes jours. Si tu choisis le véritable ami, tu baigneras dans la joie au cours de tes dernières années, et toi et lui atteindrez ensemble la grandeur. Fille de guérisseurs de dents, tu peux changer le monde sauf si tu choisis l’homme inapte.

“Méfies-toi du menteur barbu. Il ne dit jamais la vérité, et il complote la mort de ton véritable ami.”

This is what Hermione translated in her head—

Listen to me, daughter of tooth-healers. Tomorrow two friends approach you—a true friend and a false friend. One day you will choose which one to marry. If you marry the false friend, your life will then be ordinary, and you will sob with regret for the rest of your days. If you choose the true friend, you will bathe in joy in your later years, and you and he will achieve greatness together. Daughter of tooth-healers, you can change the world unless you choose the unfit man.

Beware of the bearded liar. He never tells the truth, and he plots the death of your true friend.

Chapter Text

During the walk from the Divination classroom back to Gryffindor Tower

Parvati’s eyes were shining, in anticipation of juicy gossip. “So, Granger, what did Professor Trelawney say to you?”

Before Granger could speak, Lavender said, “Parvati! Don’t ask. I’m not asking her; it’s rude.”

Percy asked, “How do you figure?”

Lavender said, “I don’t know how prophecies work, but if whoever gave Trelawney the prophecy wanted everyone to know it, the prophecy would’ve been in English. Instead, it was spoken in French. Of us four, only Hermione speaks French; and Trelawney already has forgotten what she said.”

Granger said, “Thank you, Lavender. Sorry, Parvati, but what was said to me was personal. Besides, I haven’t figured out what some of the prophecy means.”

“Still,” Percy said pompously, “the prophecy was spoken here at school, so Headmaster Dumbledore should be told about it.”

Granger stopped walking and, with hands on hips, glared at the older boy. “Really, Percy? When I’ve my first period”—Lavender and Parvati chuckled at Percy’s uncomfortable expression—“this personal milestone will probably be here at Hogwarts. If so, after my flow stops”—now Percy looked even more uncomfortable—“may the headmaster demand that I march into his office and give him a full report?”

Red-faced Percy replied, “Erm, okay, I see your point.”

****

After a brief silence

Hermione asked Percy, “Isn’t it a rule at Hogwarts that your belongings are subject to search by the professors at any time?”

Percy replied, “Not by most of the professors, no. Only your Head of House, the Deputy Headmistress and the Headmaster can search your belongings. And they must have a good reason.”

“Does the student get to decide if a professor’s reason is ‘good’ or not?”

“Of course not!” Percy said pompously. “The professors are older and wiser than any student.”

“So if I don’t want Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore finding something in my trunk, I need to do what the Twins do—have the searched-for item be elsewhere than my trunk.”

“Or you could refuse to own any contraband items,” Percy said disapprovingly. “Don’t let my brothers be a bad influence on you.”

“Hm,” Hermione said thoughtfully.

****

Just outside the Gryffindor portrait hole

The foursome were about to reenter the common room when Lavender stopped Hermione by laying a hand on her arm.

“Hermione,” Lavender said, “I haven’t been nice to you, up till now, and I apologise for that.”

“Me too,” Parvati said.

Lavender continued, “I’d like to be your friend from now on, if you’ll let me.”

“Me too,” Parvati said.

“I’d like this,” Hermione admitted, “but I don’t know how to be a friend. When I try, kids hurt me.”

Lavender squeezed Hermione’s arm and grinned. “Then Parvati and I will teach you how to be a friend!”

For the first time in almost two months, Hermione smiled.

****

The next day (Thursday, 31st October)
Early in the morning, before breakfast

Hermione owled to her mother, Hermione’s write-up of the French prophecy plus a short note.

Hermione wondered what her mother would write in her next letter. Considering that almost all of the French that Hermione knew, had been taught to her by her mother, Emma Granger’s next letter surely would be interesting to read.

Not to mention, if Professor McGonagall or the headmaster searched Hermione’s trunk, the searcher would never find the parchment that no longer was in the trunk.

****

3½ hours later, right after Charms class

Outside the classroom, Harry heard Ron say about Hermione—Ron was speaking loudly enough for all the other first-year Gryffindors to hear—“It’s no wonder no one can stand her. She’s a nightmare, honestly.”

Hermione burst into tears and ran away, bumping into Harry Potter in the process.

Harry said to Ron, almost calmly, “I think she heard you.”

Harry was of two minds. Ron was Harry’s best mate, and so deserved Harry’s support; but this was exactly what Dudley would say.

“So?” Ron retorted. “She must’ve noticed she’s got no friends.”

“Excuse me?” Lavender Brown yelled. Her hands were on her hips and she was glaring at Ron. “Hermione Granger is the only reason that you, lazy arse, walked out of this class being able to float the feather, and this is how you thank her? You’re wizard-raised, so you already should’ve known this spell before you boarded the train—or are you as lazy near your mum and dad as you are in a Hogwarts classroom?”

Ron’s ears, Harry noticed, were turning red.

Lavender continued, “I’m Hermione’s friend, and now I need to calm her down from crying in the loo, and I’d rather be Hermione’s friend than yours, Ronald Bilius Weasley!”

Lavender did not run away then, like Hermione had run away, but Lavender walked away quite fast.

Parvati Patil said, “I’m Hermione’s friend too. You’re a berk, Ron.” Then Parvati hurried off too.

Now Harry felt even more conflicted—because he knew that Lavender and Parvati both were right and that Ron was wrong.

****

A minute later
In the first-floor girls’ lavatory by the Charms classroom

Lavender and Parvati opened the door and stepped in. Lavender yelled, “Hermione, are you here?”

“Who wants to know?” replied an anguished young voice.

“It’s us, Lavender and Parvati. We’re your new friends, remember? Weasley is a moron.”

“Do you really think so? If you’re here to prank the friendless know-it-all, please leave.”

Parvati said, “Grain—Hermione, we want to make amends and to help you. Let us be friends with you. I swear we’re not trying to trick you.”

Surprisingly to Lavender, light flashed in the lavatory after Parvati’s words.

Click. A stall-door unlocked. Hermione’s voice said, “If this is all some trick, I’m hexing you both, as soon as I learn how.”

Lavender already was walking forwards, with Parvati following. Lavender said, “If you hex me, Hermione, I’ll deserve it.”

****

Two hours later, during lunchtime
Still in the first-floor girls’ lavatory

Hermione, Lavender and Parvati were sitting on the floor, on long strips of loo-roll paper. (None of the three first-year girls knew how to conjure anything that was more comfortable to sit on, such as a chair; and sitting on the bare floor was unthinkable.)

Hermione did the Tempus charm; the time was 12:26. She said to Lavender and Parvati, “All three of us have entirely missed Transfiguration class—”

“Eep,” said Parvati.

“—and now we’re missing lunch. Professor McGonagall will give us detentions till we’re twenty!”

Parvati started to stand. “Is this the plan now, to go to lunch?”

Hermione said, “You two go if you’re hungry. I’m not ready to face Weasley yet—I’d either start crying in the Great Hall, or else I’d punch him so hard I’d knock him right off his bench.”

Lavender and Parvati exchanged a look. Lavender was feeling quite guilt-ridden at the moment—from things Hermione had told them in the last two hours, the Muggle-born girl had been shunned, lonely and miserable since she had been six years old; and Lavender had uncaringly made things worse after Hermione had been Sorted into Gryffindor.

Parvati must have felt the same as Lavender. When Hermione showed no sign of leaving the lavatory, Parvati sat back down.

****

An hour and a half later

Lavender was explaining to Hermione and to Parvati, “...how my special sight works. When I look in the mirror, it’s like I have a small purple flame burning over my head—like what a candle makes, but the flame is purple. With my Aunt Placida, who’s also a Seer, I see the same thing: a little purple flame over her head. Now, Trelawney—”

“Professor Trelawney,” corrected Hermione.

“Anyway, the day after the Welcoming Feast, when I talked to her for two hours, her Seer magic was another little purple flame. Last night, when I stepped off the ladder into her classroom, again she had a little purple flame.”

Hermione asked, “When you look at me, do I have a purple flame? Or does Parvati? Does anyone else in the Great Hall?”

“No, nobody else has a purple flame, not even a bit. Anyway, as I was saying: When Aunt Placida or Professor Trelawney is reading tea leaves or is reading palms, the purple flame gets bigger: a purple torch-flame instead of a purple candle-flame. Last night, Professor Trelawney’s little purple flame suddenly became a purple bonfire. This was when her voice turned weird, and she started speaking French.”

“What do you think this means?” Hermione asked, even as she felt sceptical about Lavender’s words.

Lavender replied, “Whatever Tre—Professor Trelawney said in French, it wasn’t regular fortune-telling, it was a prophecy.”

“Blimey,” said Hermione, who had no idea what to think. Whatever Hermione might have imagined that a prophetess looked and acted like, Professor Trelawney was nowhere close to that image. For one thing, the professor reeked of sherry.

****

The same lavatory, 3½ hours later

Parvati was saying, “...Solids always are good, so long as the colours aren’t hideous together. Solids and patterns work too—”

Hermione nodded in understanding. “Again, so long as the colours don’t clash.”

Lavender took over the lesson: “But patterns and different patterns? No. Never.” Lavender shuddered, and briefly covered her eyes. “Unless one of the patterns is tiny—like in tweed, say.”

Hermione scowled. “Or unless the wearer is a long-bearded headmaster. Then no clothes-combo is ruled out.”

Lavender giggled. “I’ve heard rumours about why he dresses this way.”

Parvati smiled at Hermione. “Congratulations, you’ve learnt today’s lavatory lessons. Now all you need to do is to shop for new clothes, and to put some Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion in your hair, and Daphne Greengrass will be crying in her green-and-silver pillow.”

Hermione laughed. “I’ll look prettier, thanks to you two, but I don’t think Daphne Greengrass or Hannah Abbott needs to worry about me.”

Then Hermione did another Tempus check: 5:33. “Now we’re missing the Halloween Feast.”

“Samhain,” said Parvati. “We wizard-raised call the holiday ‘Samhain,’ not ‘Halloween.’ Honestly, Hermione.”

Lavender said, “Fine, we’re missing the Whatever-It’s-Called Feast.” She slapped her hip. “Aunt Placida always is saying, ‘I need to miss a few meals.’ Well, today I’m missing two—no big deal.”

From somewhere outside the lavatory came a loud noise.

“What was that?” Hermione asked.

Lavender got a feeling. As she stood up and drew her wand, she said, “Witches, I sense danger.”

Parvati and Hermione copied Lavender’s movements.

****

Hermione and the other two girls all had been sorted into Gryffindor, the house of the brave; but when these girls heard a door slam, followed by the click of a lock, followed by the sight of a twelve-foot mountain troll inside the lavatory? All three girls screamed.

Seconds later, the lock clicked again, the door swung open, and Harry Potter and Ron Weasley burst in.

Hermione did not waste time asking what these two boys were doing in the girls’ lavatory; by then, the troll was smashing sinks with its club as it advanced on the three girls, who had backed up against a wall.

It was Hermione who got the idea of putting her left hand on Lavender’s shoulder—“Hopefully this will pool our magic”—then Hermione cast Wingardium Leviosa on the troll’s club. With two witches’ magic powering the spell, it was easier to magically move the heavy club.

A second later, Parvati put her own left hand on Hermione’s shoulder, to add to the magic-pool. Again the troll’s club became easier to move.

Harry Potter, meanwhile, climbed up the back of the troll and shoved his wand up the troll’s nose. The troll tried to shake off the Boy Who Lived, but Harry held on tightly.

The redhead boy, in the meantime, was standing just inside the door, watching the troll fearfully. Parvati said scornfully to him, “Oi, Weasley, are you going to help us levitate the troll’s club, or are you going to stand there and piss your britches?”

With Ron Weasley’s belated help, the three witches levitated the club to smack the troll hard beside the head, twice—BAP, BAP! The troll fell limply forwards and hit its face on the floor—

Whump.

—an action which drove the wand that Harry had shoved up the troll’s nose, into the brute’s brain.

“The troll, is it ... dead?” Hermione asked.

Harry groaned as he stood up, then limped over to the troll. He reclaimed his wand—which was slimy with troll bogies—then said to Hermione, “He isn’t breathing.”

This is when Professors McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell burst into the lavatory.

****

“What happened here?” the Deputy Headmistress demanded.

Before anyone else said anything, Ron grinned at the professors and thumped his chest. “My best mate Harry and I defeated the troll.”

“Pfft,” said Lavender. “It was Weasley who made Hermione run here to the loo and cry, and Weasley did wandwork for only the last ten seconds or so.”

Parvati said, “After I shamed Weasley into helping us.”

Lavender glared at the redhead. “Until then, Weasley stood there by the door and watched.”

Ron looked at Hermione and said, “I helped save you from the troll. You should thank me, or at least help me with homework.”

Hermione took a breath to start yelling—

Harry faced the professors and held up his wand. “Do any of you know how to get slimy troll bogies off a wand?”

Snape cast the Scourgify spell, then asked, “Potter, how did you soil your wand in such a creative manner?”

Harry replied, “I shoved my wand up the troll’s nose, because I’m a first-year and I don’t know how to use the wand for anything else.”

Hermione said, “Harry climbed up the troll’s back till he could grab its head, then Harry shoved the wand up its nose. Harry was brilliant.”

“Mr Potter,” yelled McGonagall, “you could’ve been killed!”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know any spells for fighting a troll, so I went with Plan B.”

Snape said, “How Gryffindor of you, Mr Potter.”

“Oh yes, he’s the best,” said Hermione.

“Oi, I helped too!” said Weasley.

“Yes, you guarded the door,” said Hermione, whilst rolling her eyes. “You hardly moved away from the door. This was quite cunning of you.”

Weasley’s ears started to turn red.

Throughout all this, Hermione had noticed, Professor Quirrell had said nothing. But now Quirrell, after some wand-waving, spoke: “The w-witches and Mr Weasley injured the troll. But Mr Potter k-killed the troll.”

Chapter Text

Minutes later
Still in the first-floor girls’ lavatory by the Charms classroom

Professor Quirrell volunteered to remove the troll from the lavatory, whilst Professor Snape repaired the lavatory. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall cast some kind of silencing spell about herself and the five first-years—a spell that Hermione craved to ask about.

McGonagall asked Harry, “Why did you and Mr Weasley come here? Why aren’t you two in the common room where you belong?”

Harry replied, “Hermione, Lavender and Parvati missed Transfiguration class”—which McGonagall well knew—“and weren’t at the Great Hall at lunch. I figured the other two girls were consoling crying Hermione, and it was taking a while. But hours later, they were missing dinner. Then Professor Quirrell made the announcement about the troll. I figured the girls didn’t know about the troll, and the prefects were busy, so I grabbed Ron—”

“Pfft,” said Parvati. “Useless.”

“—then we went looking for the girls. I messed up, because at first I locked the troll in the lavatory with the girls. Sorry, ladies.”

Professor McGonagall escorted the five children towards Gryffindor Tower. As they walked through the castle, the children told their stories. As much as Hermione wanted to lie so that Harry could not possibly get in trouble, the stories that Lavender and Parvati told Professor McGonagall made this impossible.

Once the elderly professor and the five firsties were in the Gryffindor common room, Professor McGonagall announced, “The troll is dead. Miss Brown, Miss Granger and Miss Patil subdued it, and Mr Potter killed it.”

The common room went silent, with every face showing shock. The silence was broken by Ron yelling, “Oi, what about me?”

Professor McGonagall said, “Miss Brown, Miss Granger and Miss Patil, five points each from Gryffindor for missing today’s Transfiguration class—which was about transfiguring a saucer into a teacup. By your next class, I expect you three to have read about the transfiguration and to have completed the essay assignment.”

“Yes, professor,” the three girls replied with downcast eyes.

“Mr Weasley, ten points from Gryffindor for your cruel, untruthful and ungrateful words which began these events.”

“But—”

Professor McGonagall glared Ron to silence.

“Miss Brown and Miss Patil, five points each to Gryffindor for comforting a sad classmate. Miss Brown, Miss Granger, Miss Patil and Mr Potter, five points each for jointly defeating a troll. Mr Weasley, one point for helping the other four. Fifteen minutes ago, I would have said defeating a troll was impossible for first-years, but together, you five did it.”

The five firsties grinned at each other.

“Now eat up. The Feast was moved to the common room, and hopefully the house-elves haven’t removed the food yet.”

Ron grinned. “We haven’t missed the food? Wicked.”

****

For Hermione, the evening in the Gryffindor common room was a comedy.

Percy was all set to lecture the girls for skiving off Transfiguration—till Lavender and Parvati explained loudly why they had done so: They were fixing the disaster that Percy’s youngest brother had caused. Meanwhile, Hermione wanted to talk about anything except how Ron Weasley had made her cry, so she was trying to talk to Harry, Fay Dunbar and Neville Longbottom about the Transfiguration class she had missed.

The Weasley twins asked, “So what happened with—”

“—you lot and the troll?”

To hear Ron tell it, he and Harry had killed the troll (by unspecified means), whilst the three girls shivered and screamed. The three girls scornfully disagreed; they called Ron “a liar, a braggart and a coward.”

“Coward?” the three older Weasleys said together.

Then the twin gingers looked at Harry—

“You’ve been quiet through all this.”

“What do you say happened?”

Hermione noticed that Harry looked pained by the roomful of attention. Hermione answered instead of Harry: “It was Harry who killed the troll. He shoved his wand up the troll’s nose.”

The redhead twins high-fived each other. “A Gryffindor firstie killed the troll,” said one.

“What spell did you use?” the other twin asked Harry.

“I didn’t use any spell, because I don’t know any spells. I did the first thing that I thought of.”

A prefect asked, “How did you levitate your wand to go into the troll’s nose?”

“I didn’t levitate my wand. I climbed up the back of the troll, wrapped my left arm about his forehead and shoved the wand up his nose with my right hand.”

Many in the audience gasped, hearing this.

Percy frowned. “This was a dangerous thing to do.”

A boy about Percy’s age replied, “But Perce, he got the job done. Harry Potter was brave.”

A third- or fourth-year girl asked Harry, “What about Wingardium Leviosa on the troll’s club? These other firsties are telling different stories about that.”

Ron gave Harry a look that Hermione interpreted to mean Don’t make me look bad. Now Harry looked truly pained.

Harry answered, “Hermione cast the spell, but then the other two girls each put a hand on her shoulder—”

“Sharing their magic,” an older girl explained.

“Anyway, Ron cast his own Levitation Charm along with the girls, after a minute. Together the two Levitation Charms knocked out the troll with his own club, and his face hit the floor. That’s when my wand killed it.”

A twin said, “You say that Ron waited a—”

“—minute before casting his own spell.”

“What was he doing—”

“—during that minute?”

Harry glanced at Ron, then said, “Ron was, erm, watching the rest of us.”

Parvati snapped, “Ron was standing by the door, ready to run away, whilst the rest of us were fighting the troll. Finally he did a bit of wand-fighting after I shamed him.”

Harry did not speak up and agree with Parvati—but neither did he speak up to disagree.

Hermione noticed Ron’s ears turn red. Then suddenly Ron hurried away to the stairs to the boys’ dormitories.

Many older Gryffindors came over to Hermione and complimented her on how she had acted during the troll-attack. By the time Hermione eventually left the common room for her own dormitory—with a stomach full of food and with her Transfiguration essay one-third written—the bushy-haired firstie was grinning.

As Hermione lay in bed, she thought, It’s pretty obvious now, who the “true friend” of the prophecy is, and who the “false friend” is. Ugh, somebody hit me on the head with a rock if I ever consider marrying Ron Weasley.

****

The next morning (Friday, 1st November)
During breakfast in the Great Hall

Hedwig delivered a letter to Hermione from her mother. All of the letter except for the postscripts had been written four days ago.

Monday, 28th October

Dear Hermione,

Not much is going on here. Yesterday and today I helped Dan rake the leaves. He thought this was a fine act of kindness, so today he took me to a cinema—my choice of film. We went to see The Butcher’s Wife at matinee. We enjoyed the film, mainly because on this Monday afternoon, the cinema was almost empty except for two happily married dentists. We chose this time of day for the film because your father likes legroom.

Mum

P.S (Thursday) The last note you wrote was interesting to read. Your father also thought your note was interesting to read, after I explained some things.

P.P.S Didn’t you mention that Albus Dumbledore, your headmaster, has a beard that goes down to his waist?

The “note” that Hermione had written was the text of Professor Trelawney’s prophecy, in the original French. For Dan Granger to have read the note, Emma Granger would have had to translate parts of the note for him.

Hermione remembered that the last part of the prophecy warned, “Beware of the bearded liar.” Emma Granger was asking in her post-postscript, Is “the bearded liar” your headmaster?

****

At noon

Lunch for Hermione and all the other first-year Gryffindors did not come too soon, after two periods of Potions.

Potions was annoying for Hermione as usual, with Draco Malfoy sabotaging Neville’s potion without suffering points-loss or detention, whilst the Gryffindors lost points for ridiculous reasons.

But oddly, Hermione sometimes saw Professor Snape studying Harry—not all the time trying to catch Harry in some ridiculous error, but sometimes as if Professor Snape were trying to figure Harry out.

At lunch, the five troll-adventure firsties sat together at the Gryffindor table. Rather, Ron and Harry sat down first, and a minute later, the three girls sat as close to Harry as they could. Ron soon got insulting to Parvati and Lavender, who insulted him right back. (Hermione did not speak insults to Ron, but she often replied archly.) Hermione got the distinct impression that Ron did not want to share Harry with the three girls.

Ron’s twin brothers thought the situation was hilarious. Ron’s prefect brother Percy suggested that Ron, Lavender and Parvati should act “properly.”

****

A half-hour later, whilst Hermione still was eating

Hermione watched two people in grey enter the Great Hall and walk up to the High Table. The two people wore grey robes with grey cowls pulled up; grey-wool masks covered their faces. The strange thing was, Hermione could not tell whether either of the two people was a man or a woman!

Hermione looked up the table at Fred and George. “Who are those two people?”

A twin answered, “They’re Unspeakables. They study—”

“—Magic itself. They’re part of the Ministry.”

The twins said in unison, “They work for the Department of Mysteries.”

Hermione saw that the two Unspeakables were arguing with the headmaster and with Professor McGonagall, though Hermione could hear no one’s voice.

Dumbledore’s words could not be heard, but his expression said You must do as I say, because I always know best. Before Professor Trelawney’s prophecy, Hermione always had taken comfort in the headmaster’s seeming assuredness—but no longer.

****

After several minutes of silence-charmed argument

Professor McGonagall, with her lips pressed together, led the two Unspeakables to where Hermione and her friends (and Ron) were sitting. “Mr Potter, Miss Granger, these two people are from the Department of Mysteries, which is part of the Ministry of Magic. They wish to speak to you as soon as you finish lunch.”

“About what?” Hermione asked. She suspected the Unspeakables had heard about her prophecy, but why did they wish to speak to Harry?

Professor McGonagall replied, “They will explain their business with you when you all are someplace private.”

Harry shoved a mouthful of shepherd’s pie into his mouth, stood up, and gestured Lead on.

Hermione slipped her knapsack onto her back and followed Professor McGonagall, the two Unspeakables, and Harry.

****

Professor McGonagall led the Unspeakables and the two firsties to an empty classroom. The taller of the Unspeakables introduced both of them: the taller Unspeakable was “Unspeakable Twenty-Two,” whilst the shorter Unspeakable was “Unspeakable Sixty-Five.”

(The taller Unspeakable’s voice was actually two voices—a man’s voice and a woman’s voice that spoke the same words in unison.)

Then the taller Unspeakable said, “Professor, please remain a moment, whilst we check for listening charms.”

The taller Unspeakable waved a red(!) wand, and suddenly a blue-glowing strange shape appeared on each Unspeakable’s robes. The shorter Unspeakable said (with two voices at once), “There also is a listening charm on Miss Granger’s knapsack.”

The taller Unspeakable snapped, “That whiskered popinjay. He insists on hoarding his own secrets like fist-sized diamonds, whilst believing himself entitled to know everyone else’s secrets.”

The taller Unspeakable waved his/her wand, and the glowing blue shapes vanished. He/she asked the shorter Unspeakable, “Did I get them all?”

The shorter Unspeakable did his/her own waving of his/her own red wand, whilst walking round the others. “All gone,” he/she announced.

The taller Unspeakable looked at Professor McGonagall. “Sixty-Five and I will be taking the children to the DOM, where nosy, bearded old men can’t listen in.”

McGonagall replied, “The headmaster won’t allow—”

“The four of us are involved in Unspeakables business, and Dumbles has no say. The children will be back before dinner at five.”

****

Minutes later

The two Unspeakables, Harry and Hermione surprisingly achieved walking outside, into sunlight, before the headmaster ran up to them. “Unspeakable Twenty-Two, I refuse permission for these young children to leave the castle.”

The taller Unspeakable replied, “They’re on Unspeakables business now. Since you’ve shown that you won’t respect their privacy in the castle, we’re taking them to the Ministry.”

“First-years are not permitted to leave the castle for any reason whilst school in in session.”

“Would you care to make an oath on your magic that this rule has no exceptions?”

“I insist on knowing what your business is with Miss Granger.”

Hermione felt surprise. She had a good idea why the Unspeakables might want to talk to her, but she could not guess why the Unspeakables wanted to talk to Harry; and she absolutely could not guess how the headmaster thought he knew the answer to this mystery.

Meanwhile, the taller Unspeakable was replying, “Insist all you want. But you have no right to know, not now and”—the taller Unspeakable’s grey-wool mask turned to face Hermione’s face—“not after she returns. Your responsibilities as headmaster do not allow you to ask Miss Granger about Unspeakables business. The same goes for Mr Potter.”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other in confusion. What is the Unspeakable talking about?

Dumbledore said pompously, “I am also the Chief Warlock. You will answer my questions, to my satisfaction, or I will cut the Department of Mysteries’s funding.”

“Oh please, Albus Percival Dumbledore”—the headmaster’s eyes widened—“your threat was old when Polonius Dumbledore”—founder of House Dumbledore—“was a first-year. And the DOM’s answer to every politician demanding secrets, remains the same now as it was in olden days: ‘We don’t have to say sod-all to anyone in Britain except the monarch.’ Who has been Queen Elizabeth the Second since 1952, if you’re not up on Muggle current events.”

Then the taller Unspeakable said, “Sixty-Five, Miss Granger, Mr Potter, come—we have business at the Department of Mysteries. Headmaster, it’s been an experience talking with you, as always. I suggest you reread the 1642 Treaty of Separation of Magical Britain from Nonmagical Britain; the Department of Mysteries rates four paragraphs on page 7.”

****

Two minutes later
In the Hall of Prophecies
Part of the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic, London

The taller Unspeakable was explaining to the two children, “We track prophecies here—”

Harry blurted, “Tell-the-future real prophecies?”

“Indeed. So why do we track prophecies? First, because it helps the Ministry to know about something consequential before it happens. Second, because a prophecy always comes true, even after someone tries to prevent this. When someone tries to prevent a prophecy’s fulfillment, how the prophecy gets fulfilled just becomes more convoluted.”

The two Unspeakables and the two first-years were walking through a gigantic, dimly lit room that was full of shelves. On those shelves were many, many smoky glass balls, each glass ball being about two inches in diameter. Some glass balls looked white; some looked dark.

Unspeakable Sixty-Five, the shorter Unspeakable, said, “The first thing you need to know about prophecy-spheres: Every one of those glass balls contains the words of a prophecy. Black smoke inside the ball means the prophecy is fulfilled; white smoke means the prophecy still is active. We have magic to inform us, the minute that a prophecy is fulfilled.”

“Wow,” said Hermione.

“The second thing you need to know: Don’t touch any of the prophecy-spheres! Only the person who spoke the prophecy, the person who heard the prophecy, someone mentioned in the prophecy, or one of us Unspeakables may touch the prophecy-sphere. If anyone else touches it, he or she instantly goes barking mad.”

Harry asked, “Why are you telling us this? Why did you bring us here?”

Instead of answering the question, the taller Unspeakable took over the lecture: “The difference between a divination and a prophecy is that a divination can be partly false or completely false; while a prophecy always comes true, eventually.”

Hermione asked, “There are no false prophecies? ‘I prophesy it will be sunny all day tomorrow at Hogwarts Castle,’ but tomorrow it rains?”

The shorter Unspeakable replied, “A prophecy, by definition, always comes true—completely. This is why we have magic here that tracks prophecies—but not divinations. We know that a prophecy was spoken, the night before last, that Sybill Trelawney spoke the prophecy, and that you, Miss Granger, heard the prophecy.”

Harry said, “You heard one? Wow! What did the prophecy say?”

As Hermione blushed red, the shorter Unspeakable said, “Mr Potter, in here, such a question is considered quite rude to ask.”

Harry said, “Sorry, Hermione. So why is Hermione here, and why am I here?”

The taller Unspeakable replied, “Miss Granger is here so that we can take a recording of the prophecy from her memory, and can interview her about whom she thinks the prophecy might be about—”

Hermione grinned. “Then my memory will be set in a glass ball in this room forever!”

The taller Unspeakable pulled a prophecy-sphere from a pocket of his/her grey robes and showed the glass ball to Harry, before repocketing it. “The reason we wished to speak with you, Mr Potter, is that a prophecy was made about you, we believe, and you deserve to know this.”

“A prophecy has been made about Harry?” blurted Hermione. She hugged the boy next to her.

Hermione noticed Harry flinch.

****

The Unspeakables took the children into a well-lit conference room, which had a table with eight chairs about it. A strange little object that had a concave top, and two rows of runes round its base, was set on the table. Also set on the table: what looked to Harry like a birdbath with runes on it.

A cupboard was mounted on one wall of the conference room. From the cupboard, the taller Unspeakable removed a clear prophecy-sphere, and set the glass sphere on the concave holder on the table.

The taller Unspeakable then returned to the cupboard and removed from it a sheet of parchment, an ink bottle, a quill and a pair of scissors. These items also were placed on the table.

Harry watched as the taller Unspeakable “copied Miss Granger’s memory,” which somehow involved the Unspeakable putting his/her wand on the side of Hermione’s head and creating a glowing white oil on the tip of his/her wand. Then the glowing white oil was dumped into the “pensieve” (the runes-inscribed birdbath).

The taller Unspeakable asked Hermione, “Miss Granger, before I edit the memory and put it in this prophecy-sphere, do you wish for me to remove Mr Potter from this room so he will not witness your memory?”

Hermione looked at Harry, then at both Unspeakables. “You’re going to play Harry’s prophecy for him, right? If he’ll let me see his, he may see mine.”

“Sounds fair,” Harry said.

As Harry watched, and as Hermione watched closely, the taller Unspeakable touched the tip of his/her wand to a rune on the pensieve. Above the pensieve, a three-dimensional image formed—

In a dark dormitory room, nightgown-clad Hermione slipped into bed and shut her eyes. Her breathing slowed. Fifteen or twenty seconds after she shut her eyes, she suddenly was awake, now was wearing her Gryffindor robes over her nightgown and now was standing in a classroom that Harry never had seen before. In the classroom were Hermione, Lavender, Parvati, and a woman with thick glasses. Harry had seen the thick-glasses woman once before, sitting at the High Table during the Welcoming Feast. Now in the classroom, Hermione, looking panicked, talked with Lavender and the woman. As soon as Percy Weasley entered the classroom by climbing up a ladder(!), the thick-glasses woman began speaking French in a strange voice. When the woman stopped speaking French, Hermione’s memory ended.

Now the taller Unspeakable held his/her wand against a different rune of the pensieve. The memory replayed, at half of normal speed, till the Unspeakable lifted his/her wand. This happened just as the thick-glasses woman took a breath to speak what would be French. The thick-glasses woman froze, unmoving.

The taller Unspeakable pressed his/her wand against a third rune, which flashed green.

The taller Unspeakable touched his/her wand to the first rune on the pensieve, and the memory replayed at normal speed. But now the only part of Hermione’s memory that was shown was the thick-glasses woman speaking French.

The taller Unspeakable dipped the tip of his/her wand into the pensieve and removed the glowing white oil—but now there was much less glowing white oil than before. The taller Unspeakable touched his/her wand-tip to the top of the clear prophecy-sphere and said, “Memento aeternum.” The glowing white oil was absorbed into the prophecy-sphere, as frozen white smoke.

****

Hermione watched the taller Unspeakable use his/her wand to touch a rune that had appeared atop the newly filled prophecy-sphere; Hermione watched Professor Trelawney speak French again. The two Unspeakables shared a look—or rather, they turned their grey-wool masks to face each other.

The shorter Unspeakable walked over to the cupboard. He/she brought back to the table an object that looked to Hermione to be a stone carving of lips, on which many little runes were painted. The shorter Unspeakable activated one of those runes with a wand-tip. Again the prophecy-sphere was made to play the memory of Professor Trelawney speaking French—but right afterwards, the stone lips spoke with an expressionless woman’s voice—

“Listen to me, daughter of tooth-healers. Tomorrow two friends approach you—a true friend and a false friend. One day you will choose which one to marry. If you marry the false friend, your life will then be ordinary, and you will sob with regret for the rest of your days. If you choose the true friend, you will bathe in joy in your later years, and you and he will achieve greatness together. Daughter of tooth-healers, you can change the world unless you choose the unfit man.

“Beware of the bearded liar. He never tells the truth, and he plots the death of your true friend.”

It was Harry who broke the silence. “Hermione, you heard this two days ago, right? So ‘tomorrow’ in the prophecy was yesterday, right? So the prophecy has something to do with the five of us who fought the troll, right?”

The Unspeakables said together, “Troll?”

Meanwhile, Hermione nodded at Harry’s question.

Harry asked, “So am I the ‘true friend’ whom you should marry, the ‘false friend,’ or neither?”

The shorter Unbreakable asked, “What’s this about you two, three others, and a troll?”

Hermione answered distractedly, “Yesterday two other Gryffindor firstie girls and myself used Wingardium Leviosa to grab the troll’s club and knock him unconscious with it. Ron helped a bit, then Harry killed the troll.”

As the two speechless Unspeakables again shared a look, Hermione turned to look at Harry. “Anyway, Harry, logic says the ‘true friend’ must be either you or Ron, and it’s quite clear that Ron can’t be the ‘true friend’!”

Harry asked, in a voice filled with dread, “And ‘the bearded liar,’ it’s Dumbledore? Dumbledore is plotting to kill me?”

The taller Unspeakable said, “A witch named Dolores Umbridge has chin-hairs, but I don’t think this is whom the prophecy refers to.”

The shorter Unspeakable sighed. “Unspeakable Twenty-Two tried to make a joke. The joke failed.”

The taller Unspeakable inked the quill, then looked at Hermione. “What is your full name, Miss Granger?”

“Hermione Jean Granger.”

“Mentioned in this prophecy, you believe, are yourself, Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore and Ron...?”

“Ronald Weasley,” Hermione replied.

The taller Unspeakable wrote at the top of the parchment in small letters, “S.P.T to H.J.G: Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Albus Dumbledore. Prophecy in French.” Then he/she used the scissors to cut the written-on parchment away from the blank parchment.

The shorter Unspeakable said to the children, “All done. Now Miss Granger’s prophecy-sphere can be put on a shelf and labelled.”

“Hold on,” the taller Unspeakable said. He/she waved his/her wand, then picked up the quill and began writing on the blank parchment-remainder. But now the lower half of the quill and the words written on the page both were blurry; Hermione could not read the newly written words.

After a while, when the taller Unspeakable finally put the quill down, he/she used his/her wand to open the door to the conference room. Using both hands, he/she grabbed the parchment that had the blurred words and he/she folded the parchment into a paper aeroplane. Picking up his/her wand, he/she cast a spell to turn the paper aeroplane yellow, cast another spell to unblur the paper aeroplane’s words then tossed the paper aeroplane towards the opening in the doorway. The yellow paper aeroplane flew out of the conference room and disappeared from Hermione’s sight.

****

Instead of explaining to Harry and Hermione what just had happened, the taller Unspeakable asked, “Okay, what’s next?”

Harry threw himself back into his chair. “Let’s hear my prophecy now. It sure can’t be worse than learning that Dumbledore plans to kill me.”

Hermione laid a hand on Harry’s arm. “Before we do, let me make you a promise. The prophecy says that if I marry ‘the true friend,’ who I think is you, I ‘will bathe in joy.’ If I marry you, I’ll do everything I can so that you will bathe in joy too.”

Harry said, “I’d like that. My life hasn’t had much joy up till now.”

The two Unspeakables shared another look.

Harry then stared down at the table. “But, erm, Hermione? Don’t take this the wrong way, but I met you only two months ago, and we’ve been friends only since last night. So it’s weird for me, to talk about me marrying you someday, maybe. I mean, you and me, and Ron and Neville all had an adventure together, getting growled-at by the three-headed dog—”

The two Unspeakables looked at each other.

“—but that didn’t tell me how you’d be as a wife, you know?”

Hermione laid her hand on Harry’s arm. “I understand, believe me. It’s at least as weird for me to be told by the prophecy, ‘Don’t marry Ron Weasley, because he’s bad news.’ After how he made me cry in the lavatory yesterday, why would my older self think, for even one second, of marrying him? Does he develop Arnold Schwarzenegger muscles when he grows up? Will Ron someday start quoting passages from Hogwarts: A History?”

“Perhaps,” the shorter Unspeakable suggested, “someday you’re slipped a love potion. It wouldn’t surprise me, considering who his mother is.”

****

The taller Unspeakable removed Harry’s prophecy-sphere from his/her pocket and placed the glass ball atop a conjured holder. Then he/she touched his/her wand-tip to the rune at the top of Harry’s prophecy-sphere.

Like before, a talking image formed above the prophecy-sphere. Hermione recognised Professor Trelawney’s thick glasses and “prophecy voice”—

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...”

Harry said, “Well, bugger.”

Chapter Text

Above Harry’s prophecy-sphere, Trelawney’s voice spoke—

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...”

Harry said, “Well, bugger.”

Hermione said, “Language, Harry.” Then she hugged him. Harry flinched.

By this time, Hermione had placed her knapsack on the table and had opened it. From the open knapsack, Hermione removed her ink bottle, quill and a sheet of parchment. She looked at the taller Unspeakable and asked respectfully, “Would you replay Harry’s prophecy, please?”

Harry’s prophecy was replayed, and Hermione wrote down its words. She asked for the prophecy to be replayed a second time, as she checked her writing for accuracy.

Hermione looked at the Unspeakables and, blushing, asked, “May I ask a stupid question?”

Harry rolled his eyes. He had known Hermione only two months, but already he had figured out that Hermione asking a truly stupid question happened less often than Snape singing a love song to Professor McGonagall.

The shorter Unspeakable gestured Ask your question.

Hermione looked down at the table; to Harry, she seemed embarrassed. “You told Harry and me that white smoke means a prophecy is active, whilst black smoke means the prophecy is fulfilled. So, erm, why is Harry’s prophecy-sphere white when he killed Voldemort in 1981? What am I missing?”

“What?” yelled both Unspeakables. They turned to stare at Harry’s prophecy-sphere, with horrified expressions; then the taller Unspeakable waved his/her wand. The two Unspeakables began talking to each other, their hands waving about, but all Harry heard was a buzzing sound.

After a minute, the wave of a wand ended the buzzing-sound spell. The shorter Unspeakable hurried to the cupboard, grabbed a blank sheet of parchment, then hurried back to the table. He/she wrote something on the parchment, a message that to Harry looked blurry. Then the shorter Unspeakable folded the parchment into a paper aeroplane, changed the paper aeroplane’s colour to alternating red and white diagonal stripes, and threw the paper aeroplane towards the open door.

Meanwhile, the taller Unspeakable waved his/her wand; a ghostly dolphin came out of it. The Unspeakable murmured something to the dolphin, too lowly for Harry to hear, then the ghostly dolphin swam through air up to and through the ceiling.

The taller Unspeakable then looked at Hermione. “To answer your question, what white smoke means for Mr Potter’s prophecy is that You-Know-Who isn’t dead. Whatever Mr Potter did, or his parents did, back in 1981, did not kill the Dark Lord.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry complained. “I absolutely don’t understand how everyone ‘knows’ I killed Voldemort as a one-year-old, yet he isn’t dead now.”

The two Unspeakables went into another buzzing-sounds discussion.

Harry, meanwhile, decided to play a hunch. He reached over and grabbed the prophecy-sphere for his(?) prophecy.

“Harry!” Hermione yelled, looking shocked. “That’s dangerous!”

Harry held the glass ball for a few seconds—long enough to know he would not go mad—then he put his prophecy-sphere back in its holder.

He grinned at Hermione. “Okay, now I know for sure this prophecy is about me.”

Harry’s hand moved sideways then, to pick up Hermione’s prophecy-sphere. Hermione gasped.

“Mr Potter!” the shorter Unspeakable rebuked him.

As Harry laid Hermione’s prophecy-sphere back onto its runes-inscribed holder, he looked at his friend and said, “Hermione, I’ll try always to be the ‘true friend’ your prophecy says I am.”

Hermione sputtered, “Harry, what you just did, twice, it was—it was—”

“Stupid? Foolish? Reckless?” Harry shrugged. “Yes. But Hermione, I can’t plan the rest of my life round a maybe or an I think. So anyway, what does my prophecy mean?”

At first the conference room was silent. The Unspeakables both were facing Harry and not speaking; Harry guessed that under their masks, they were staring at him in shock.

Then the taller Unspeakable said, “This prophecy was made in March 1980, when your mother was pregnant with you. Your parents fought three battles against You-Know-Who but weren’t killed, which is remarkable. You were born on 31st July, the last day of the seventh month. Notice that the prophecy predicted the day of your birth. You-Know-Who, in trying to kill you, gave you the scar on your forehead.”

Harry asked, “What is ‘the power the Dark Lord knows not’?”

“We don’t know, and can’t begin to guess.”

Before Harry’s prophecy could be discussed further, a man walked into the conference room. He was wearing the grey-wool robes of an Unspeakable, but there was no ambiguity in his masculine shape and size. His cowl was pushed back, revealing the face of a man in his fifties with thinning hair. The man looked at Harry and Hermione and said (with a single, masculine voice), “Hello, I’m Saul Croaker, the Director for the Department of Mysteries. I’m told we have a problem here?”

The taller Unspeakable replied, “These Hogwarts students are Hermione Granger, who heard a prophecy two days ago, about herself; and Harry Potter, who is mentioned in a 1980 prophecy. Sixty-Five and I have recorded Miss Granger’s prophecy, and Mr Potter confirmed that he is mentioned in both Miss Granger’s prophecy and the 1980 prophecy.”

Croaker looked confused. “How did Mr Potter confirm he is the subject of two prophecies? Did he cast a spell we don’t know?”

“No, just before you walked in, he grasped both prophecy-spheres!”

Croaker looked down at Harry’s school robes, then chuckled. “Gryffindor red—why am I not surprised?”

The shorter Unspeakable said, “Director Croaker, Mr Potter’s prophecy is active. Somehow the Dark Lord still is alive.”

With a gesture, Croaker summoned the other Unspeakables to a corner of the conference room. Again Harry heard buzzing sounds.

After a few seconds of buzzing, Harry asked Hermione, “May I reread my prophecy?”

As Hermione slid the parchment in front of him, she said, “When the time comes, I’m sure you can vanquish the Dark Lord.”

“I’m not,” Harry said, ten seconds later. His finger stabbed one part of Hermione’s handwriting. “Here’s why.”

Behind Harry, Croaker asked Hermione, “May I copy your parchment?”

“By hand, or do you know a spell for that?” she asked eagerly.

Croaker grinned at her. “The spell is Geminio Aeternum, and the wand-movement is a tick-mark.” So saying, Croaker drew his wand, made a copy of the parchment—the copy even was in Hermione’s handwriting—and carried the copy to the other side of the table.

Croaker sat down, laying the copied parchment on the table. But he still had his wand in hand. He said, “Mr Potter, before we discuss the contents of the prophecy with you, may I examine your scar?”

Harry shrugged. “Okay.” He could not guess why this wizard wanted to see his scar, but at least the man was not acting like a fanboy.

One second later, Harry was hit in the forehead with a yellow-orange spell. His forehead tingled, as if the skin had fallen asleep. Then suddenly—“Gah!”—Harry’s forehead burned, as though someone had poured boiling-hot water into his scar.

Croaker looked at the other two Unspeakables and said sombrely, “The bad news is, there is a horcrux in his scar—”

“A horcrux!” the shorter Unspeakable exclaimed.

“—but the good news is, some sort of family-magic spell keeps the horcrux contained. Mr Potter is in no danger of the Dark Lord possessing him.”

“What’s a horcrux?” Hermione asked.

“A horcrux is a piece of someone’s soul that is attached to an object. The Dark Lord has such a piece attached to Mr Potter’s scar. We deduce that the Dark Lord has made other horcruxes. Until every one of them is destroyed, killing his body forces him to exist as a wraith but doesn’t truly kill him.”

Harry asked, “How do we destroy the hor—the soul-thing in my scar?”

“Normally, to destroy a horcrux, you destroy the object to which it is attached—destroy the object so completely that magic can’t repair it.”

Harry and Hermione both gasped.

Harry said sadly, “The prophecy says, ‘[F]or neither can live while the other survives.’ Now you’ve told me why: I need to die so the horcrux in my scar will die, then Voldy can be killed by someone else.”

Then Harry looked at Hermione and said, “Not that it matters whether I’m alive or not afterwards, if Voldemort and I ever fight a big battle.”

“Harry, no, don’t say that!” Hermione said, grabbing his arm.

Croaker said, “I’m confident that the prophecy doesn’t require you to die when the Dark Lord dies, which tells me that the horcrux can be removed from your scar and you stay alive. My money is on goblin healers to cure you.”

“Why the goblins,” Hermione asked, “and not Saint Mungo’s?”

“Because the goblins, besides doing banking and moneylending, also search for tombs containing treasure. Some of the ancient pharaohs made horcruxes. Ergo, the goblins know more than anyone else about removing horcruxes.”

Harry asked, “Why do you say this about the prophecy, that I don’t have to die?”

Croaker replied, “Because of logic—”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Fascinating.”

Croaker ordered, “Unspeakable Twenty-Two, explain the logic.”

The taller Unspeakable looked at Harry and Hermione. “Let’s use inductive reasoning, and assume to start that the prophecy means that when the Dark Lord dies, Mr Potter dies at the same time; and when Mr Potter dies, the Dark Lord dies.”

“Easy to assume,” Harry said, “because the prophecy does mean that.”

“The prophecy describes you as having ‘the power to vanquish the Dark Lord.’ That word vanquish does not merely mean to kill, it means to destroy the Dark Lord so completely they he can never recover. Will the world say he was ‘vanquished’ by you if you die when he dies? No. Also, the prophecy says about you, ‘[H]e will have power the Dark Lord knows not.’ If you die when the Dark Lord dies, does it matter whether you’re a mage who killed the Dark Lord as easily as an elephant stepping on an ant, or you’re an inept wizard who cast one lucky spell? No.”

The shorter Unspeakable took over: “If the prophecy means that when the Dark Lord dies, you die—‘neither can live,’ period—then those two other parts of the prophecy are meaningless; they’re wastes of breath. But since they’re part of the prophecy, this means your fatalistic interpretation is wrong.”

Hermione squeezed Harry’s arm. “Don’t forget my prophecy, Harry. It says that if I marry you, ‘the true friend,’ I will bathe in joy during my later years. How can I be joyful in my old age if I marry you, then later Voldemort makes me a widow? It seems to me, my prophecy takes for granted that you’ll live as long as I will.”

Harry smiled. For the first time in ten minutes, since he had heard his prophecy, he felt hope.

Then Hermione looked at Croaker. “My prophecy says in part, ‘Beware of the bearded liar. He never tells the truth, and he plots the death of your true friend’—that is, Harry.”

Croaker said, “The ‘plots the death of’ part is news to me, but the rest? Definitely Dumbledore.”

Hermione said, “I suspect the headmaster’s plan is to let Harry hear or read the prophecy, then to tell him, ‘You want Voldemort dead, don’t you? Of course you do, because he killed your parents. Sorry, Harry my boy, but the only way to kill Voldemort requires that he also kill you.’ ”

Croaker said sarcastically, “Then, assuming that all the other horcruxes are destroyed by then, after the Dark Lord kills you, Mr Potter, Dumbledore can waltz up to the Dark Lord, then kill You-Know-Who and he’ll stay killed. How famous Dumbledore will be then, defeater of Grindelwald and the slayer of the Dark Lord!”

Harry looked at the three Unspeakables. “I’m glad you lot plus Hermione’s prophecy set me straight. Otherwise I’d be Dumbledore’s sacrificial lamb and I’d believe I was doing the right thing by dying.”

A woman’s voice asked, “Why is Albus Dumbledore pushing you to die, Mr Potter?”

****

Standing in the doorway of the conference room was another Unspeakable, along with a grey-haired woman. Sticking-charmed to the front of the woman’s robes was a white badge that said “D-DMLE.” A second badge, a visitor badge like Harry’s and Hermione’s, was clipped to the front of the newcomer-woman’s robes. She also was wearing a monocle over her left eye.

Croaker said, “Thank you, One Hundred Four, you may return to your duties. Amelia, come in—both Mr Potter and I need to speak with you.”

The grey-haired woman with the monocle entered the conference room, whilst her Unspeakable escort walked away. Croaker introduced Harry and Hermione, and the two other Unspeakables, to the woman. Croaker then introduced her to Harry and Hermione: she was Amelia Bones, the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (and also Susan Bones’s aunt).

Director Croaker looked at Director Bones and said, “For those of you just joining us, the Dark Lord is not so dead as we thought he was.”

“Merlin on a mushroom! How is he alive? Where is he?”

“We don’t know yet, where he is. How is he alive? He made horcruxes, in which he chopped up his soul into pieces and attached each soul-piece to an object. Mr Potter has a horcrux in his famous scar, which is why the scar never has healed.”

Bones said nothing, but she looked at Harry in sympathy.

Croaker continued, “But I’m confident that the horcrux can be removed from Mr Potter without killing him, even though I don’t think this has ever been done before. What else to tell you? A prophecy says only Mr Potter can kill the Dark Lord, but it’s not a sure thing; still, I’m confident.”

“You’re confident that Harry Potter, who is eleven, actually can fight the Dark Lord and win? This sounds...”

Ridiculous, she did not say.

Croaker frowned. “Listen, the prophecy was made for a reason; why make a prophecy that says The outcome that everyone expects to happen, will happen? Finally, Albus Dumbledore plans to kill Mr Potter or to convince Mr Potter to kill himself. Anyway, Amelia, this is why I wanted you here; are there other reasons you’ve come?”

Rather than answer this, Bones looked at Harry and asked, “Mr Potter, who are your guardians?”

Harry answered, “My mother’s sister and her husband, Petunia and Vernon Dursley.”

“They’re Muggle-borns?”

“No, they’re Muggles. I grew up outside of the magical world.”

“But you’re a wizard child! Your father has magical relatives alive, so why were you left with Muggles?”

Harry shrugged. “You’ll have to ask Dumbledore this. He’s the one who left me on their doorstep. He left Aunt Petunia a note; she probably still has it to show to you.”

“How do they treat you?”

Harry felt panic then. “Erm, okay, they treat me okay. You don’t need to worry.”

Bones gave Harry a look that said I know you’re lying.

Aloud, she said, “Mr Potter, regardless of whom you were living with, you are a wizard orphan; Wizard Child Services should have been visiting you regularly, to report on your care and to remove you from the home if necessary. The Director of WCS is a conscientious woman named Boudicca Grenwick; by now she should have had a file on you at least a half-inch thick. Instead, her file on you is one page.”

Director Bones looked at Director Croaker. “What does that one page say? ‘The magical guardian for Harry Potter is Albus Dumbledore, by order of the Wizengamot on 1 November 1981.’ That’s the WCS’s total information about Harry Potter.”

Croaker said, “After what these two persons of prophecy have told me, I’m not surprised.”

Bones looked at Harry. “A few minutes ago, I was told Boudicca had been Compulsioned to thwart all efforts by WCS to do their job when it came to you. The Ministry doesn’t even know your home address; please write it down for me, along with the names of your guardians.”

As Harry wrote the Dursleys’ names and address on a sheet of parchment that Hermione had given him, Croaker said, “Boudicca has been Compulsioned about Harry Potter?”

Bones nodded. “Her son is a Senior Auror, and it was he who discovered this about her. He’s taken her to Saint Mungo’s to get her brain cleaned out.”

“Does he have any suspects?”

“Officially? None. The charm’s magical signature is hidden.” Then Bones mouthed the name Dumbledore.

Hermione asked, “If Harry’s father has relatives, magical relatives, shouldn’t Harry have gone to one of them? What do his parents’ wills say?”

Bones huffed. “The wills were sealed by order of the Chief Warlock.”

Croaker said, “Who was then, and is now, Albus Dumbledore. Suspicious much?”

Harry snarled, “So that’s it, game over? Dumbledore can just decide that my parents’ wills won’t be read? He can park my carcass wherever he chooses?”

Bones said, “You can request that the wills be read, Mr Potter, after you go to Gringotts, speak with the Potter account manager and claim the Potter Heir ring. You’re eleven now, you can claim the ring. The Potter Heir ring, if it’s like most Heir rings and Head of House rings, will shield your mind from mind-magics.”

Harry nodded. “Is there any way to shield Hermione’s mind?”

“After you claim your Potter Heir ring, declare Miss Granger to be a protectée of House Potter. This will put the Potter crest on the right sleeve of every magical garment she owns, as a warning to others. Also, your Gringotts account manager probably knows about enchanted jewellery in your family vault that Miss Granger can wear, that protects against mind-magics.”

“How far a walk is Gringotts from here? Before Hermione and I return to Hogwarts at five o’clock, I want her protected, me protected, and the stuff with the wills nailed down.”

Bones said, “Mr Potter, would you mind if I go with you? Back in the day, I dated your father’s best friend and I was friendly with your mother. But before today, I believed Dumbledore’s pretty words that you were safe and happy. Clearly, you are neither.”

Harry felt panic. “That’s not true, I’m fine. Everything’s fine with me.”

“No. You’re too short, you’re too thin, I see scars on your forearms and hands, and your trainers look like you pulled them from a rubbish bin.”

Hermione said, “Under his school robes, the clothes he wears are way too big for him. The day I met him, I had to repair his glasses, which were broken. Who sends their nephew off to school with ill-fitting clothes and broken glasses?”

Harry gave Hermione a glare for revealing his shameful secrets, but could not disagree with her facts.

Harry said, “So how do the three of us get to Gringotts? Walk there? Hire a taxi?”

Bones said, “I could make a Portkey. Or, if Director Croaker permits, you could call a Potter house-elf to come here.”

“What’s a house-elf?” Harry asked.

“A magical servant,” Bones replied. “House Potter, if I recall correctly, has four house-elves.”

At this point, Hermione got angry and started to rant, until Croaker said firmly, “Miss Granger, the relationship is symbiotic. A house-elf must be bonded to a wizard or to a House in order to take magic from that wizard. If the house-elf doesn’t take that magic, he dies. In turn, the house-elf transforms the magic that he takes, so that he can perform spells that the wizard cannot.”

“Oh,” said Hermione, who now was red with embarrassment.

Harry looked about the conference room at Croaker and the two other Unspeakables. “Are we done here, or is there something else to talk about before Hermione and I and Director Bones leave?”

Unspeakable Twenty-Two, the taller Unspeakable, said, “Mr Potter, your prophecy doesn’t require you to kill the Dark Lord yourself. The prophecy says that he can be killed by your ‘hand’—meaning by your own actions, by the actions of someone you command to act, or by someone you explicitly permit to act. This gives you many more tactical options.”

Harry laughed. “You think I at age eleven can command anyone to do what I say?” Harry looked at Hermione and said, “Stand up from your chair, then jump up and down on one foot.”

Hermione’s response was to smack Harry’s arm. “Prat.”

Harry grinned at Unspeakable Twenty-Two. “Don’t worry, I still have two other options.”

Unspeakable Sixty-Five, the shorter Unspeakable, said, “The prophecy says ‘[E]ither must die at the hand of the other.’ Meaning, until the prophecy is fulfilled, you must kill the Dark Lord or he must kill you. But in the prophecy’s words is good news besides the bad news: Until the prophecy is fulfilled, only the Dark Lord can kill you. If anyone else tries, he’ll miss, or somehow his ‘fatal’ spell won’t be fatal. Lady Luck herself will magically shield you.”

“Huh,” replied Harry. “That’s nice to know.”

The shorter Unspeakable said, “Mr Potter, know that prophecies can’t be thwarted and they can’t be herded. Dumbledore is a powerful wizard, both magically and politically, but he can’t herd your prophecy so that the only way for you to kill the Dark Lord is for you yourself to die.”

Hermione said, “But this is exactly what the headmaster is trying to do, I think. What can we do?”

The shorter Unspeakable replied, “You two are firsties, so there isn’t much you can do. But know this, I’ve seen it happen, Fate gets angry with anyone who tries to control a prophecy—even a Leader of the Light.” The Unspeakable laughed evilly.

Croaker asked Harry, “Does the Department of Mysteries have your permission to act as your ‘hand’ at tracking down and vanquishing the Dark Lord?”

“Huh?” Harry replied.

“Say yes, Harry,” said Hermione. “It’s quite a helpful offer he’s making.”

Harry looked at Croaker and said formally, “Yes, the Department of Mysteries can act as my hand. Thank you for offering.”

“May act, Harry,” Hermione corrected.

Director Croaker looked at Director Bones. “Make the same offer, Amelia. It’s the right thing to do, and the prophecy will give protection to your Aurors and hit-wizards.”

Bones nodded, then looked at Harry. “Does the Department of Magical Law Enforcement have your permission to act as your ‘hand’ at tracking down and vanquishing the Dark Lord?”

Harry said formally, “Yes, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement may act as my hand. Thank you for offering.”

Hermione asked, looking worried, “Does anyone have the time? Harry and I are supposed to be back at Hogwarts by five o’clock.”

Bones did the Tempus spell. “The time is 1:52.”

Harry stood up. “If there is nothing else to do here, then Director Bones, please tell me how to call a Potter house-elf to take Hermione and you and me to Gringotts.”

Hermione began stowing everything that was in front of her on the table, including her write-up of Harry’s prophecy, back inside her knapsack.

Meanwhile, Croaker asked Harry, “Do you mind if Unspeakable Twenty-Two goes with you?”

At Harry’s gesture of agreement, Croaker said, “Twenty-Two, find out if the goblins can remove Mr Potter’s scar without killing him. I’m pretty sure they can. If the goblins say they can remove the horcrux without killing Mr Potter, ask them if they can put the Dark Lord’s soul-piece into something inanimate—a recording-crystal, say.”

The taller Unspeakable stood up. “Understood, Director.”

Then Bones coached Harry how to call a Potter house-elf. With Croaker’s permission, Harry called for “any Potter house-elf” to come to the Hall of Prophecies conference room.” Pop.

A waist-high creature appeared. He had greenish skin, a long nose, bat-ears and big eyes. The house-elf was wearing an elf-sized grey tuxedo with a white shirt and a black cummerbund; the left breast of the tuxedo had a black P on it.

As soon as the house-elf saw Harry, he grinned and bowed. “Master Harry Potter calls Greyclay? We Potter elves are so glad to again serve House Potter. This elf am Greyclay, the head Potter house-elf.”

Greyclay clearly was overjoyed to see Harry; but his legs were shaking. This meant, so Bones explained to Harry, the house-elf was magically weak. Bones coached Harry how to inject Potter magic into weak Greyclay.

Whilst Harry was recharging Greyclay, Unspeakable Twenty-Two looked at Hermione and said, “When you’re a seventh-year, you should apply for a position with us. The Department of Mysteries always is looking for people like you.”

Harry saw Hermione smile and blush.

Croaker looked at Harry. “Your mother worked for us, for a time. She did solid research.”

Once Greyclay was magically recharged, he elf-popped Harry, Hermione, Bones and the taller Unspeakable to Diagon Alley, just below the bottom step of Gringotts Bank.

Chapter Text

Friday, 1st November, 1:59 p.m
In Gringotts

Both Director Bones and Unspeakable Twenty-Two had put the fear of God into Harry and Hermione, about either of the first-years drawing his/her wand in Gringotts. With this warning spoken, the foursome had entered the Gringotts lobby.

Few customers were in the lobby at this time of day, so Harry (along with the three others he had arrived with) had moved to the front of the queue after only a few minutes.

This was when Harry’s latest “adventure” began.

“Key, please,” the teller said in a bored tone.

“Erm, I don’t have it,” said Harry. He was blushing. “But I have a vault here. My trust vault. Number 687. I’m Harry Potter.”

“If you’ve misplaced your key,” the teller said, sounding scornful as well as bored, “the cost of a replacement key is twenty galleons, after you take a blood test to confirm your identity.”

Director Bones asked, “Where is your key, Harry?”

Harry shrugged. “Dumbledore has it, I suppose. Hagrid had the key to my vault when he took me shopping three months ago, and he said he got the key from the headmaster. Hagrid didn’t give me the key at the end of the day, so I suppose he gave it back to Dumbledore.”

Director Bones started to say something in reply—

—but the conversation was interrupted by the teller: “Are you magicals going to chatter, or is the young wizard going to give me two drops of his blood so he can conduct bank business?”

Half a minute later, Harry had bled on a parchment, the blood droplets had disappeared, and these words had appeared on the parchment in blood-red writing: “Harry James Potter, born 31 July 1980. IT IS URGENT THAT HARRY JAMES POTTER SPEAK WITH THE POTTER ACCOUNT MANAGER, BRONZEDAGGER.”

When Harry read this, he said, “Not a problem, Mr Teller, because I came here today to talk to Mr Bronzedagger.”

****

Two minutes later

When Harry and the three others first faced Bronzedagger in his office, the first thing that happened was an exchange of “Oi, wizard, why haven’t you answered your Gringotts letters?”/“What Gringotts letters?”

Bronzedagger discovered an owl-mail-redirect ward on Harry; all Harry’s mail was delivered to somewhere in Hogwarts. Director Bones, after getting permission, drew her wand, cast a DMLE spell, and agreed with Bronzedagger’s findings.

Director Bones suggested, and Bronzedagger agreed, that Harry’s mail-redirection ward not be cancelled, but be redirected again. Now owl-mail would go to a goblin post box where, for a fair fee, every piece of mail that was received would be stripped of harmful spells before being delivered to Harry.

Bronzedagger waved his left hand, Harry felt his stomach tingle, and his owl-mail was redirected anew.

Director Bones was annoyed by the mail-redirect ward that had been on Harry’s mail previously. “Harry, Susan drew you a birthday card every year from your sixth birthday through your ninth. When she never got a reply from any of the owl-letters she sent, she stopped sending them. The whiskered idiot hurt Susan’s feelings!”

****

Mr Potter, declaring that he was “eleven years and three months old”—meaning, he was old enough to make this request—then asked to read his parents’ wills.

Bronzedagger’s response alarmed Amelia—

A moment of panic flitted across Bronzedagger’s face—the goblin’s change of expression was only for a moment, but Amelia had been trained to notice such things.

Then Bronzedagger said, “I’m afraid this isn’t possible. You’ll need to wait till you’re seventeen to read their wills, or when you’ve your magical guardian’s written permission.”

Miss Granger asked, seemingly innocently, “Who is Harry’s magical guardian?”

Bronzedagger replied pompously, “The powerful and admired wizard Albus Dumbledore.”

Amelia said, “Account Manager Bronzedagger, you’re misinformed about the law. Mr Potter is the last of his line, as is my niece Susan. This gives them legal rights at age eleven that aren’t up to others to refuse.”

Bronzedagger snarled, “Ministry law doesn’t apply here, witch, only Gringotts law applies here. Are you well read in Gringotts law?”

“So you are telling this orphan, who is from an Ancient and Noble family and is the last of his line, that he must wait till he is as old as seventeen to read his own parents’ wills?”

“Yes I am, witch. Deal with it.”

Amelia looked at the Unspeakable in the room. “Unspeakable Twenty-Two, please walk out of here and find me a goblin who supervises account managers. And if the only goblin who meets this test is Director Ragnok, so be it.”

****

Five minutes later

When Unspeakable Twenty-Two, along with three more goblins, walked into Bronzedagger’s office, Harry felt nervous—mainly because the three newcomer-goblins all were wearing armour. Two of the goblins were each carrying a heavy steel axe; the third goblin, to whom the axe-carrying goblins deferred, was wearing a white cape with strange writing on it.

“Vlif-neelno’ok Ragnok,” Bronzedagger said, bowing. He looked more nervous than Harry felt, which Harry found puzzling.

The goblin who was wearing the white cape said to Director Bones, “Tell me why you’ve requested I come here. Know that it will go bad for you if you’ve wasted my time.”

Director Bones gestured towards Harry. “This is Harry Potter, who has come in to read his parents’ wills. The copies of his parents’ wills that are on file at the Ministry have been ordered sealed by the Chief Warlock—Albus Dumbledore. Bronzedagger here has told Mr Potter that he may not read the Gringotts copies of his parents’ wills until he is seventeen or until he has the written permission of his magical guardian—who, according to the Wizengamot, is Albus Dumbledore. Mr Potter and I both doubt that Albus Dumbledore is the person whom the wills have set as Mr Potter’s guardian.”

Director Ragnok—the goblin in the white cape—waved a hand, and Bronzedagger’s head glowed for a second. Then Director Ragnok asked questions in goblin-speech, which Bronzedagger answered in the same language. With every answer that Bronzedagger spoke, he looked more and more frightened—yet he answered every question he was asked.

“He’s under a truth spell,” Hermione murmured.

Director Ragnok waved his hand, and Bronzedagger slumped back in his chair, unconscious. Ragnok turned and spoke goblin-language orders to the two axe-carrying goblins. One goblin saluted, then ran out of the room; the other goblin saluted, then levitated Bronzedagger out the door.

Five minutes later, a former Senior Teller, Axefrenzy, was sitting in Bronzedagger’s chair, learning on the job how to be the Potter account manager.

It took Axefrenzy only two minutes, in an office he never had entered until minutes earlier, to find Harry’s parents’ wills.

****

When Harry read aloud in the wills, the section about “Guardianship,” the two human adults in the room acted shocked—

• Both James and Lily had the same first choice for guardian: someone named Sirius Black, “Harry’s sworn godfather.”

• If Sirius Black could not serve as guardian for some reason, both wills listed the same second choice: someone named Alice Longbottom, “Harry’s sworn godmother.”

• The third choice for Harry’s guardian in each of the wills, if Alice Longbottom could not serve as guardian for some reason? Amelia Bones.

• Harry was never ever to be given to Lily’s sister Petunia and Petunia’s husband Vernon. Quoting Lily Potter’s will: “My sister and her husband hate magic and will be cruel to Harry.”

• Albus Dumbledore was not mentioned anywhere in either will, except as a witness.

Director Bones and Unspeakable Twenty-Two tried to explain the current situation to the firsties, but Harry found the adults’ explanations to be confusing. Sirius Black did not have guardianship of Harry because Black now was in prison for murdering Harry’s parents, amongst other misdeeds—yet Sirius Black was Harry’s sworn godfather, so such a vile act of treachery should have killed him on the spot, back in 1981. Alice Longbottom and her husband Frank had been attacked by Death Eaters and put under “a cruel spell,” according to Director Bones; somehow the cruel spell had made the Longbottoms go some kind of mad. Nowadays the Longbottoms were in Saint Mungo’s (and had been there since 1981).

Axefrenzy asked another goblin to consult with him about how to respond to what the wills said—since it was Axefrenzy’s first day on the job, after all.

****

Whilst the two goblins talked, there was a lull in activity.

Meaning, Amelia had time to feel shame.

Sirius, her Sirius, was innocent! (Or at least, innocent of betraying James and Lily Potter.) Amelia should have found evidence to prove Sirius’s innocence, she should have attended his trial, she should have visited him in prison—but she had done none of these things.

Well, playtime was over now. Amelia would do her utmost to clear Sirius’s name and to get him free.

Amelia recalled Sirius’s adoring gaze, and his tender kisses. Amelia also remembered Sirius’s mischievous smile, his bedroom eyes, his special touches, and the filthy, dirty things he could say when the two of them were alone. Amelia smiled a secret smile.

****

What Axefrenzy and the other goblin decided, after they had conferred, was that until the Wizengamot set a new magical guardian for Harry, Dumbledore would remain Harry’s guardian outside Gringotts; but within Gringotts, the bank would recognise Amelia Bones as Harry’s guardian. What this meant was that Dumbledore no longer could access Harry’s trust vault, and the old wizard no longer could sign anything that obligated Harry’s trust vault, without Amelia Bones’s signature also present.

The current key to Harry’s trust vault, the key which was in Dumbledore’s possession, was hereby cancelled. Axefrenzy made a new key to vault 687—for no charge—and gave this key to Harry.

****

As Axefrenzy handed over the key to Harry, the goblin said, “If you let someone else possess your vault key, whatever then happens in your vault is not considered theft.”

Harry nodded solemnly.

Director Bones used her new authority as Harry’s within-Gringotts magical guardian to order a complete audit of Harry’s trust vault, going back to 31st October 1981.

Unspeakable Twenty-Two laughed. “Dumbledore will go spare when he finds out today’s doings. How dare anyone question his judgement!”

Director Bones asked for a certified copy of each will, to take with her to her DMLE office. She declared she intended to investigate her one-time boyfriend being thrown in prison.

Unspeakable Twenty-Two choked. “You’d mentioned a friend of James Potter whom you used to date—he was Sirius Black? You dated Sirius Black?”

“I did, yes. And if he’s innocent, I shall get him out of prison, believe it!”

Harry thought the name Sirius Black sounded familiar, but Harry could not recall a face, or anything else about the man.

****

One second later

Amelia tapped her chin with her fingertip and asked, “Mr Potter, how many times have you accessed your trust vault?”

The boy answered, “Just once, on my birthday, 31st July.” He grinned at Miss Granger. “I was allowed to fill a bag with gold coins, without needing to ask anyone’s permission. It was brilliant.”

Amelia nodded, then asked Axefrenzy, “So when I look at the account ledger, I should see no withdrawals in the almost ten years between 31st October 1981 and 31st July of this year, right?”

“Exactly,” Axefrenzy replied. It took him only thirty seconds to find the account ledger and to turn it to the page showing 1981 transactions.

Seeing what was written there, Amelia scowled.

Axefrenzy muttered, “Whi’irksiv ikkaz pruebsordop kwelchfe’elsop!”

The reason for Amelia’s scowl and Axefrenzy’s profanity?

According to the ledger, every 31st July beginning in 1981, the trust vault had been topped off to increase the balance from whatever it was, up to fifty thousand galleons. (The source of the coinage? Vault 14, the Potter family vault.) So far, no surprises.

But beginning 30th July 1982, up to 30th July 1991, the ledger had the same notation, again and again: “30th July [year]: G49 999 withdrawn from vault by key-holder Albus P Dumbledore.”

Amelia, trying to stay calm, told Mr Potter what the ledger was saying: “Every year on your birthday, coins were taken from the Potter family vault and put in your trust vault—whatever coins were needed to make the trust vault’s balance be fifty thousand galleons. But every year including this year, Albus Dumbledore came to this vault the day before this refilling, and took all but one galleon out of the vault.”

“Is this even legal?” Mr Potter asked. Both children’s faces looked angry.

Amelia answered, “It’s legal, yes—until either the vault-holder or the vault-holder’s new guardian complains.”

Amelia spun to look at Axefrenzy and snarled, “Remember how I told you a few minutes ago, I want vault 687 audited all the way back to 31st October 1981? Make the audit thorough. Make it hurt. Every coin that did not leave the vault for a good reason, I want brought back. Dripping with blood, if this is what it takes.”

Axefrenzy grinned, showing many sharp teeth.

****

In Axefrenzy’s office, Harry became Heir Potter, which involved swearing a magical oath, then putting on the Potter Heir ring—a ring which shrank to fit.

“I love magic,” grinning Harry said. Hermione hugged him.

Then Madam Bones coached Harry how to declare Hermione to be a protectée of House Potter. The Potter house crest—which was round, white and had a stylised P in the centre—promptly appeared on the right sleeve of Hermione’s Gryffindor robes.

Harry then asked Axefrenzy for permission to call for Greyclay, the head Potter house-elf. Once Greyclay popped into the room, Harry asked him, “Greyclay, is there any necklace or bracelet in any Potter vault that protects the woman who wears it from mind-magics? If so, please fetch it.”

“Yes, there are two, Heir Potter,” Greyclay replied. He popped away, then returned seconds later with a necklace in each hand. One necklace was cherry-red, whilst the other necklace was wet-clay grey (one of the two House Potter colours).

Harry asked Hermione, “Which one do you want?”

Hermione chose the grey necklace, and Harry helped her put it on. Greyclay popped away, taking the red necklace back to wherever he had found it.

Hermione blinked. “The necklace just did something to my mind. I no longer believe that Headmaster Dumbledore should be believed and should be obeyed without question.”

Madam Bones scowled.

****

Before the foursome were escorted to a goblin healer, Axefrenzy asked Harry, “When would you like to schedule the public reading of your parents’ wills?”

Harry replied, “Today is Friday. How about a week from tomorrow, Saturday the 9th of November?”

Axefrenzy nodded. “Sounds good.”

****

In Gringotts Hospital

The goblin healers performed a ritual to remove the horcrux from Harry’s scar and to drive the soul-piece into a live pig. This was the good news.

The bad news? During the ritual, the pain was awful—worse for Harry than either time that Vernon had broken Harry’s arm. Now Harry resolved to not scream in front of the other humans and the goblins—but he could not stop himself from whimpering. More bad news: The cost for the horcrux-removal was twenty thousand galleons—when Harry’s new wand had cost him only seven galleons.

The goblin healers refused to let either Madam Bones or Unspeakable Twenty-Two watch the ritual by which the healers removed the horcrux from Harry’s forehead-scar and sent the horcrux into the pig.

However, the goblin healers did permit the two adult magicals to witness the ritual in which the horcrux was removed from the pig and was trapped inside a goblin memory-recording crystal. This second ritual, by the way, made a young, healthy pig die of old age, and the ritual cost Harry “only” five thousand galleons.

****

After the excitement with Harry getting himself de-horcruxed, he did something boring: He let the goblin healers give him a medical exam.

Whilst a goblin healer’s floating quill was writing on parchment (and writing, and writing...) Harry asked Madam Bones, “Did Susan mention to you about Hogwarts’s third-floor corridor on the right-hand side? Which everyone should avoid ‘who does not wish to die a very painful death’?”

“No, Susan has not mentioned any such thing,” Madam Bones said, frowning. “Who said this? Who said there is a deadly place at Hogwarts?”

“The headmaster, during the Opening Feast.”

“Maybe he was joking,” Madam Bones said. But her tone of voice told Harry she did not believe this.

Harry said, “I can tell you that behind a simple locked door is a room with a three-headed dog in it. A huge three-headed dog.”

Hermione said, “The Cerberus was standing on a trapdoor. We didn’t stay to discover what the trapdoor led to.”

Madam Bones snarled, “Is Dumbledore barking mad?”

****

The goblin healers diagnosed Harry as having broken arm-bones that had not healed properly, besides an improperly healed fractured skull. Sometime in the future, so Harry was told, when he had thirty-six hours free, he should return to Gringotts Hospital to get these injured bones vanished and regrown.

Healer Spurtblood said this last part so casually. Harry and Hermione looked at each other in amazement.

And oh by the way, Harry had three bindings on his magical core. The first binding had the magical signature of James Potter, had been laid down in 1981 and should have been removed on Harry’s eleventh birthday. Harry’s other two core-bindings, which had been laid down in 1981 and 1986, had the magical signature of Albus Dumbledore.

Healer Spurtblood recommended that during the thirty-six hours that Harry was getting bones vanished and regrown, he also get the three bindings on his magical core removed, in reverse order.

Harry also had been diagnosed with nutritional deficiencies. Healer Spurtblood gave Harry potions to fix those deficiencies. Healer Spurtblood told Harry to expect to grow taller. Harry grinned, hearing this.

Amelia Bones, who was Harry’s within-Gringotts guardian, asked Healer Spurtblood for a complete report of all of Harry’s injuries and nutritional deficiencies. Once Amelia Bones the within-Gringotts guardian was handed this list, she handed it to Amelia Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

****

As the four people were walking out of Gringotts

Unspeakable Twenty-Two said “Mr Potter? Look there.” He/she pointed.

On the top step of the front entrance to Gringotts was a tall pole. Atop that pole, Bronzedagger’s neatly severed head was mounted. By now, the head was drawing flies.

Madam Bones had told Harry that he could use his Heir Potter ring to charge things to his trust vault. Now Harry asked Madam Bones and Unspeakable Twenty-Two, “Do we have time to go to Flourish and Blotts for a bit?”

Madam Bones cast Tempus. “The time is 4:41. Yes, we have time, if the shopping is quick.”

Harry turned to Hermione and said, “Let me make you an offer: Pick out any book they sell, and I’ll pay for it.”

Hermione squealed, hugged Harry, then rushed into the store.

Harry figured that Hermione would buy a book about Charms, Potions or Transfiguration. Instead, Harry paid for a book titled Dark Wizard with a Bright Smile.

Harry said, “Erm, Hermione? That looks like a romance novel.”

Hermione blushed. “It is, but Lavender says it’s fun to read.”

Madam Bones sighed. “Miss Granger, if there is anything in the story you don’t understand, ask a seventh-year witch before you ask your mother. Trust me on this.”

****

Minutes later, 5:01 p.m
In Hogwarts’s Great Hall

Harry and Hermione had walked out of the Great Hall about 12:30 in the afternoon, in the company of two Unspeakables. Now the two firsties walked into the Great Hall just as dinner food was appearing on the five tables, whilst escorted by one Unspeakable and by Madam Bones.

When Harry and Hermione walked in, Hermione had the white Potter crest showing on her robes’ right sleeve, Harry was wearing the Potter Heir ring, and Hermione was carrying her new romance novel. At least one student in the Great Hall noticed at least one of these things, so several hundred students started discussing the two returning firsties. The Great Hall quickly was getting louder.

“Good evening, Amelia,” Dumbledore called out jovially from his golden throne. “Would you care to join us professors for dinner, or would you prefer to dine with Miss Bones?”

Madam Bones replied coldly, loudly enough for everyone to hear: “My presence here is as the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Tell me, headmaster, if a student would go to the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side, is he or she truly in danger of ‘a very painful death’? From a three-headed giant dog, and perhaps from other dangers?”

Chapter Text

Still Friday, 1st November, 5:01 p.m
Still in the Great Hall

Harry and Hermione were escorted by Unspeakable Twenty-Two to the first-years’ section of the Gryffindor table, whilst Madam Bones yelled words of challenge, then strode up to where Dumbledore and McGonagall were sitting.

All the first-year Gryffindor girls wanted to talk to Hermione about the book she had brought in, Dark Wizard with a Bright Smile. The girls’ eyebrows shot up when Hermione told them that it was Harry who had bought her the book.

Harry blushed.

Lavender opened the book to a random page and began reading aloud. Harry blushed more, because of what he heard. Blimey, he, Harry Potter, had bought Hermione such a book?

Blushing Harry looked at Neville Longbottom, who was eating by himself, and said, “Neville, please help, I’m surrounded! Come sit with us.” So Neville changed places to sit as part of the Harry-Hermione-Lavender-Parvati group.

If Neville wondered why he was invited to be part of Harry’s new group but Ron Weasley was not invited, Neville did not speak up to ask.

Unspeakable Twenty-Two, meanwhile, was standing behind Hermione, between the Gryffindor table and the wall. Now he/she turned to face the front wall (beyond the High Table), pulled the goblin memory-recording crystal from a pocket, drew his/her red wand and bespelled the crystal.

Harry remembered that the goblin memory-recording crystal contained the piece of Voldemort’s soul that had been in Harry’s scar.

Above the now-bespelled handheld crystal, a sparkly red ball appeared. The floating sparkly red ball was a half-foot in diameter. Dividing the surface of the sphere into left and right equal halves was a white circle.

Unspeakable Twenty-Two immediately hit the memory-crystal with another spell. Now the sparkly ball turned a deep purple; and the white circle rotated so that it divided the sparkly purple ball into a towards-the-Unspeakable half and an away-from-the-Unspeakable half.

Almost instantly, Unspeakable Twenty-Two bespelled the memory-crystal a third time. The sparkles turned yellow-green, and the white circle rotated to now equally divide the ball into upper and lower halves.

The Unspeakable immediately bespelled the goblin crystal a fourth time. But now the sphere-dividing circle was not white, it was black. The highest part of the black circle was towards Unspeakable-Twenty-Two, above the sparkly ball’s horizontal centre and to the right, whilst the bottommost part of the circle was below the horizontal centre, away from the Unspeakable and to the left. As for the sparkly ball, its colour now was yellow-orange.

The Unspeakable’s head reared back then, clearly surprised. He/she paused for five seconds, then walked to the middle of the Great Hall, standing in the aisle between the Hufflepuff fifth-years and the Ravenclaw fifth-years.

The Unspeakable cast another spell on the memory-crystal. The sparkly ball’s black circle now was positioned differently, and the sparkly ball now was orange-red.

Over at the Gryffindor table, Harry asked, “Hermione, what is Unspeakable Twenty-Two up to?”

Not only did the lower-years half of the Gryffindor table quiet down to hear Hermione’s reply, but the first- and second-year Ravenclaws also went silent.

Hermione replied, “I don’t know. But if I had to guess, the Unspeakable is measuring something, but is encrypting the data so that only he or she knows what the data is.”

Meanwhile, the Unspeakable walked over to stand at the foot of the Slytherin table, which was where the Slytherin first-years sat and which was at the far end of the Great Hall from the High Table. The sparkly ball turned yellow-orange again.

****

No student could hear what Director Bones was saying to the headmaster and to Professor McGonagall—but the students could see the Director of the DMLE clearly enough. Students gasped when Madam Bones suddenly drew her wand.

The Great Hall by now was silent enough that the voice of a Hufflepuff first-year wizard could be heard clearly: “Susan, is your auntie about to arrest the headmaster?”

The voice of Susan Bones replied, “Not her. Not now. The first thing they teach you in the Auror Academy is that you never make an arrest by yourself. Always you wait for backup before arresting anyone.”

“What if this means the dark wizard escapes?”

“You let him go. It’s better that a criminal escape arrest today than your widow gets paid the ‘stupidity pension’ because one Auror by himself decided to go all Gryffindor.”

“Oi!” said Fred and George Weasley, in chorus.

A young Hufflepuff witch’s voice said, “Maybe she’s threatening the headmaster—‘persuading’ him to answer her questions.”

“No,” Susan said, “Aurors don’t threaten. If the person whom the Auror is talking to, hasn’t drawn his wand, the Auror keeps his or her own wand stowed. If an Auror draws his or her blue wand, it’s because the Auror expects to immediately cast defensive spells.”

“Not offensive spells?”

“Those come later, if at all.”

A young male voice asked, “So why do you think your aunt drew her wand?”

Susan answered, “To touch her wand-tip to her badge, to call for Aurors to come to Hogwarts. You watch—the more Aurors who come here in five minutes, the more serious the situation.”

****

Meanwhile, the Unspeakable had walked to the far right side of the High Table; he/she was standing close to Professor Sinistra but did not speak to her. After a cast spell, the sparkly ball turned blue; and the black circle was tilted right-up and left-down from the horizontal.

The Unspeakable then walked to the left side of the High Table, where Hagrid and Professors Quirrell and Snape were sitting. (The Unspeakable did not speak to those three, and only Hagrid tried to speak to the Unspeakable.) The memory-crystal was bespelled again, which turned the sparkly ball green.

The Unspeakable cast another spell then, and the sparkly ball disappeared; the Unspeakable then stowed his/her red wand up his/her left sleeve and pocketed the memory-crystal. The Unspeakable then rushed out of the Great Hall, not speaking to anyone.

****

Five minutes later

Eight men and women walked into the Great Hall. Six of the eight were wearing red robes; two of the eight were wearing pea-green robes and multi-pouch utility belts.

Harry asked, “Who are those people?”

Fred or George answered, “Red robes means they’re Aurors—magical police.”

A second-year Gryffindor girl said, “The two who are wearing pea-green robes are with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. They catch everything from winged rats to fire-breathing dragons.”

Up at the Head Table, Dumbledore could be heard clearly: “Amelia, I refuse to let any Ministry people enter my castle without my permission. What is up on the third floor poses no danger to any child unless he or she is foolish.”

“Oi!” the Weasley twins said in chorus.

Madam Bones said, “This is a criminal matter, headmaster, which means you may not interfere. If you try, I’ll arrest you for interfering with a criminal investigation.”

Then Madam Bones turned her back on the headmaster and Professor McGonagall. Madam Bones ordered, “Senior Auror Grenwick—up here, please.”

When the oldest male Auror had walked up close to Madam Bones, she said to him, “On the third-floor corridor, right-hand side, is a locked door. Behind this door are a series of dangers and challenges. The first challenge is a three-headed dog that is standing on a trapdoor. The dog is big enough to be dangerous. You Aurors and the two DRCMC people are to remove whatever hazards you find, starting with the dog. Let me know if you need more people.”

The man agreed.

Madam Bones added, “Senior Auror Grenwick, pay close attention so that”—she flicked her head up for a moment, to mean Dumbledore who was now behind her—“you can write a competent report.” Also so that you can record good pensieve memories for trial if I arrest the bearded clown behind me, Madam Bones chose not to add.

****

Five minutes later

Harry saw an Auror run into the Great Hall and run up to Professor Sprout. The Auror spoke with her briefly, then ran out of the Great Hall.

Seconds after the Auror ran out, the north-side double doors opened again. Two pea-green magicals walked in, floating the three-headed dog ahead of them. The canine was much smaller now than when Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville had seen it a month or so ago; the beast now was about the size of a three-headed Doberman.

As soon as the two pea-green-robed humans and the dog entered the Great Hall, Hagrid stood up and ran over to try to block their path. “Please don’t do nothin’ to Fluffy! He wouldn’t hurt a fly!”

The two DRCMC workers did not argue with Hagrid; instead, they floated “Fluffy” round Hagrid and continued their walk through the Great Hall to the doors that led outside.

Harry heard the voices of the Weasley twins, plus about a dozen other voices in the Great Hall, say words like “In that third-floor room, the dog was three times as big!”

****

A bit later, still during dinner

Albus was in a right snit.

On Amelia’s orders, the Aurors and “animal-catchers” were dismantling all the traps and tests that Albus had arm-twisted his professors to invent, in order to trap Voldemort and to test Harry. To Albus’s frustration, there was not one thing he could do to stop these people—whenever he tried to assert his authority as headmaster, Amelia and the Aurors all ignored him.

Now Aurors were floating giant stone chess-pieces through the Great Hall. The students, particularly the younger years, reacted fearfully. Somebody said, “Imagine playing real-life Wizard’s Chess against them!”

Whilst stone pawns that were as big as full-grown wizards were being floated through the Great Hall, the mail-owls arrived.

Albus received an owl-letter from Gringotts. He could not guess why Gringotts would want to write him.

1st November 1991

To Albus Percival Dumbledore:

I am Axefrenzy, now the account manager for the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. Bronzedagger no longer is part of the Gringotts organisation.

Today the wills of James Charlus Potter and Lily Marie Potter née Evans were read privately by their main heir, Harry James Potter. As a result, changes have been made to how Gringotts does business with the minor Mr Potter, and how you may do business as the Wizarding Britain magical guardian for the minor Mr Potter.

To remind you, Gringotts is sovereign by treaty, and Wizengamot law has no power within Gringotts. Gringotts, using its authority under treaty, has declared Amelia Susan Bones to be Mr Potter’s legal guardian within Gringotts.

This letter is written to inform you of the consequences of our declaration.

The key to Mr Potter’s trust vault, which is vault 687, has been called back, and a new key made. This new key has been given to Mr Potter.

Gringotts shall not honour this key if you present it. Gringotts shall not honour the key if the minor Mr Potter presents it but you are anywhere on Gringotts property; Gringotts shall presume illegal coercion.

You and Madam Bones are equal as Mr Potter’s guardians. For instance you, as Mr Potter’s legal guardian in Wizarding Britain, may make an agreement with a publisher in Wizarding Britain to write and to publish a book about Harry Potter, and Madam Bones cannot cancel this agreement that you make. However, if you make an otherwise legal agreement that obligates Mr Potter’s trust vault, Gringotts permits Madam Bones to refuse payment. (Should she refuse payment, you either must cancel the agreement, or must make the payment from your own vaults, not from vault 687.)

If you, as Mr Potter’s legal guardian in Wizarding Britain, make an agreement that earns money for the minor Mr Potter, the agreement must state that the coinage must be paid into vault 687. If instead the coinage is paid into a vault that you may access but Mr Potter may not, Gringotts shall consider this to be theft. This applies whether Mr Potter is a minor at the time of payment or has reached his majority.

Madam Bones, acting as Mr Potter’s legal guardian within Gringotts, has ordered an audit of vault 687 from the date of 31st October 1981. If the auditors have any questions about any individual coinage-transfer, you shall be required to provide receipts and a detailed explanation.

Account Manager, the Noble and Ancient House of Potter

Axefrenzy

Shit! Albus thought, when he read the letter.

Albus was angry now. He jammed the Gringotts letter in his pocket and snapped an order to Minerva to summon Harry and Miss Granger for a conversation. Minerva, just as Albus expected, hurried to obey.

****

A minute later

Harry and Hermione walked up to the High Table, in front of McGonagall’s chair and Dumbledore’s golden throne, and looked at the two old professors expectantly. McGonagall already was retaking her seat, whilst the headmaster had left his posh chair and was heading to the double doors that led to the stairs to his office.

From the Slytherin table, Draco was clearly heard sing-songing: “Scarhead and the Know-It-All are in trou-ble.”

Harry asked loudly, “Headmaster, why have you summoned Hermione and me, when we’ve done nothing wrong?”

It was McGonagall who replied: “That question is for the headmaster to answer, and he’s waiting for you in his office.” She made a shooing motion with her hand. “Go on.”

But Dumbledore in fact had not walked to his office; he had stopped just before the double doors. “Harry my boy, I am not in the habit of justifying my actions to schoolchildren. Now come.”

Harry said, “Headmaster, today I learnt that you’ve illegally meddled with my parents’ wills. Why should I be alone with a criminal?”

Hermione said, “This afternoon the Unspeakables tried to talk with me, and you illegally tried to listen in on our conversation. I don’t wish to be alone with a criminal either.”

Professor Flitwick said, “Albus, you put a Cerberus in this school, with only a Colloportus charm keeping schoolchildren safe from that creature. I don’t know if this was illegal, but it was bad judgement.”

Dumbledore walked back to his golden throne; but he did not sit down in it. Instead, he stood at the High Table, both hands lying flat on the white tablecloth, and loomed over the two Gryffindor first-years. “Miss Granger, Harry, I am not accustomed to being questioned, and I am not accustomed to being disobeyed. Now follow me to my office!”

Hermione took a deep breath and said, “Does what you want to discuss with us relate to academics, professor? Do you want to discuss classes, or professors, or other students? Because subjects outside of these three things are not your prerogative to ask us.”

Hermione’s voice was trembling now, but still she defied the headmaster. Harry admired her for this.

Dumbledore thundered, “Miss Granger, you heard a prophecy in my castle. I am entitled to know what you heard. Harry, you evidently went to Gringotts today without my permission—without even asking my permission!”

Harry said, “I was escorted to Gringotts by Unspeakable Twenty-Two and by Amelia Bones, who is the head of the DMLE. I think, sir, if it were illegal for me to go to Gringotts, she wouldn’t have taken me there. But speaking of ‘illegal,’ at Gringotts, I found out that you buggered my parents’ wills—which said flat-out, ‘Don’t put Harry with Petunia and Vernon Dursley!’ ”

McGonagall gasped. “Albus, you never mentioned that their wills—”

“Minerva, what I did was for the Greater Good. There are steps I must take, regardless of the laws, to protect Wizarding Britain. Putting Harry with the Dursleys is one of those steps.”

Hermione said, “Harry was beaten at his Muggle relatives’ house, and starved! I barely know him, and even I can see these abuses.” As Harry blushed red, Hermione glared at all the professors at the table. “Did the headmaster order you all to be blind?”

Dumbledore ordered, “Miss Granger, you heard a prophecy, two days ago. Tell me what it said!”

Harry said, “I heard a prophecy too. But I’m not telling it to anybody, except for the evil bloke I vanquish.”

Harry noticed that now both Snape and Quirrell were watching him attentively. Dumbledore was scowling.

Meanwhile, the headmaster had demanded that Hermione reveal her prophecy. Now Hermione replied, “My knickers right now are white cotton.”

McGonagall looked confused. “Why are you revealing something so personal, Miss Granger?”

Hermione glared at Dumbledore. “The headmaster just asked me a question that he has no right to know the answer to, just because what he asked about, happened in ‘his’ castle. If he’s allowed to ask an invasive question like that, then I’ll save him time and answer his next invasive question before he asks it. To answer his third invasive question: No, I’ve never kissed a boy.” Hermione gave Harry a sidelong look.

Dumbledore said, “For defying me, each of you will serve a week’s detention with Professor McGonagall, beginning at seven o’clock this evening.”

Harry said, “No. Now you’re just bullying us, Albus my boy. Professor McGonagall, don’t expect to see us tonight.”

McGonagall said, “Mr Potter, it is unwise to defy the headmaster.”

“And what if he asks you the colour of your knickers?”

McGonagall looked unsure what to say.

Dumbledore said, “Harry, Miss Granger, if you defy me, you risk expulsion.”

“Yes!” said Snape, at the other end of the High Table.

Hermione smiled sweetly. “I’m sure Manchester Magical Academy would be glad to have us both.” Dumbledore stared at the bushy-haired girl.

Professor Flitwick said, “How about one week’s detention for them both, but served with me, not with Minerva?”

McGonagall asked coldly, “You don’t think I’m capable of supervising a detention, Filius?”

Flitwick snapped, “Minerva, I heard Lily often rant about what a rotten human being her sister Petunia was. I’m sure James bent your ear just as much. Now in fairness, you didn’t know that Mr Potter being placed with Petunia went against Lily’s will and James’ will, but you did know that such a thing could do Harry no good. Yet you timidly went along with it, because this was Albus’s idea, instead of you putting your wand in his face back in 1981. If the headmaster ordered you to spend two hours every night, for the next seven nights, giving Mr Potter and Miss Granger the Cruciatus Curse—yada-yada, ‘Greater Good’—would you say no?”

Harry did not know what the Cruciatus Curse was; but behind him, the deeper-voiced half of the student body gasped.

Harry asked Hermione, “If Dumbledore expels us, you really think we could get into that other school?”

Hermione said, “Harry, you’re the Boy Who Lived. If you’re no longer in Hogwarts, not only would MMA want you, but magical schools in the States, Canada, Australia and New Zealand would be thrilled to have you.” She grinned. “Especially after word gets out that you killed a twelve-foot mountain troll.”

Dumbledore said, “Harry my boy, your parents would want you to stay at Hogwarts.”

Harry snapped, “My parents wanted for me not to be sent to the Dursleys—they wanted this so badly they stated it in writing. Writing which you ignored. So don’t you dare try to tell me what my parents would want, because you clearly don’t care what they want.” Then Harry’s voice turned hard: “One night of detention, with Professor Flitwick, or expel us both.”

Dumbledore asked condescendingly, “Miss Granger, what do you say after Harry’s foolish—?”

Harry held his breath, because he was a bit worried, but trying not to show it. Dumbledore was asking the witch who had once said that being killed was better than being expelled, to choose between undeserved detentions and expulsion.

Hermione took a deep breath. “I agree with Harry. This school doesn’t want Muggle-borns here, so this Muggle-born is willing to leave.”

Dumbledore snarled, “Very well. Filius, don’t coddle them during tonight’s detention, do you understand? Now you two, back to your seats, both of you!”

As Harry and Hermione walked past the Weasley twins, each ginger-haired boy held a hand up for a high-five.

****

Albus was furious at being publicly humiliated. He also was frustrated. Had he been able to lure the children into his office, he could have used the Elder Wand to read their memories, then to Obliviate them and to Confundus them as the Greater Good required. But with the children and him all in the Great Hall, he did not dare draw his wand.

Albus’s only option, in order to learn what the children had experienced, was to use passive Legilimency on them. Albus, whilst trying this, had bumped up against two solid walls. From this double failure, Albus figured that Harry now was wearing his Heir Potter ring; and figured that Miss Granger, whose sleeve now declared her to be Harry’s protectée, was wearing some kind of mind-magic-blocking enchanted jewellery.

Bloody hell!

****

7:16 p.m, in the Charms classroom
Part of Harry’s and Hermione’s detention

Professor Flitwick assigned Harry and Hermione to rearrange the books on a shelf—by colour. Black, then brown, purple, blue, green, yellow, orange, red, then white. The books had to be moved by using Wingardium Leviosa, not by hand.

This task took the full two hours of detention, and completing the task took both children’s efforts. The Gryffindor children often had to stop and rest, because a book is much heavier than a feather.

In the meantime, Professor Flitwick talked about Harry’s parents—

“Mr Potter, your mother Lily was a striking girl. Red hair, but not Weasley red—it was darker, more like Miss Bones’s colour. Her eyes were bright green, the same colour as yours. And smart—Miss Granger, you remind me of Lily Evans. Lily wanted to know everything.”

Harry chuckled. “Just like you, Hermione.” Hermione slapped his arm.

Harry asked Professor Flitwick, “What about my father? What was he like?”

The little professor paused before speaking; and then, he spoke slowly and carefully. “For their first five and a half years here, your mother loathed your father—with good reason. I myself didn’t like your father until his last year here. Before then, he combined the worst parts of Draco Malfoy and the Weasley twins. He and his three friends were cruel to Lily’s Slytherin friend, Severus Snape.”

Harry choked. “Snape was friends with my mother? Was she blind?”

Flitwick again chose his words: “Young Mr Snape was never an easy boy to like—he was not like Hannah Abbott, or that third-year Hufflepuff, Cedric Diggory. But your mother brought out the best in young Mr Snape. Alas, your father brought out the worst in Mr Snape. After your mother ended her friendship with Severus Snape, at the end of their fifth year, he stepped onto a dark path. But at the same time, the end of fifth year, your father reformed. In seventh year, your parents began dating; they married within a week of sitting their NEWTs.”

Harry asked, “You don’t know what happened between my mother and Snape at the end of fifth year? You don’t know what ended their friendship?”

“No, but her friendship with Mr Snape definitely died. In sixth and seventh year, Lily spoke of him with the same scorn that before, she had spoken of James Potter.”

Harry made a decision then—a decision that he did not reveal to Professor Flitwick, but tomorrow he would tell his decision to Hermione.

****

Whilst Harry and Hermione were in the Charms classroom serving detention, Fay Dunbar was sitting in the Gryffindor common room, blushing and smiling. Hermione had loaned Fay her new copy of Dark Wizard with a Bright Smile, and Fay was enjoying reading it.

However, Fay did not always understand what she was reading. Why did a witch need to take her robes off in order to hug a wizard? Why would a wizard try to hug two witches at the same time?

****

That night, in Minerva McGonagall’s suite

The deputy headmistress tried to sleep, but she could not. The angry words that Filius Flitwick had spoken to her at dinner, kept running through her mind—

“...Now in fairness, you didn’t know that Mr Potter being placed with Petunia went against Lily’s will and James’ will, but you did know that such a thing could do Harry no good. Yet you timidly went along with it, because this was Albus’s idea, instead of you putting your wand in his face back in 1981. If the headmaster ordered you to spend two hours every night, for the next seven nights, giving Mr Potter and Miss Granger the Cruciatus Curse—yada-yada, ‘Greater Good’—would you say no?”

She wanted to say But Albus would never say anything like this! But could she truthfully say those words? She had stood right next to Albus when he had done misdeeds that had deeply offended her Presbyterian values, all whilst painting over the moral ugliness with the pompous words “It’s for the Greater Good.” Albus Dumbledore truly was not so “light” as people believed.

Was Minerva willing to bet her vaults that Albus would never, ever order her to Crucio Mr Potter and the completely innocent Muggle-born, Miss Granger? Minerva realised that she would be a fool to make such a bet.

What disturbed Minerva even more was that she realised: Filius is right to scorn me. Oh, Minerva had never cast the Cruciatus on any child, much less by Albus’s order. But Albus had left Harry Potter with Vernon and Petunia Dursley, and Minerva had known what horrors awaited the child, yet she had done nothing. Minerva had not contacted Wizard Child Services, she had not contacted the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, she had done nothing. Morally, it was as though she had spent the next ten years starving Harry, and she had given him ten years’ worth of scars and broken bones.

The guilt crushed her.

Minerva was able to fall asleep only after she resolved: No more shall I be an accomplice to hurting a child.

****

The next morning (Saturday, 2nd November) at breakfast time
In the Great Hall

When Harry, Hermione, Lavender, Parvati and Neville walked into the Great Hall (Ron was still in bed), the firsties discovered that three pairs of Unspeakables were in the Great Hall.

The Unspeakable-pairs were each running some sort of strange experiment that involved building, then collapsing, a floating three-dimensional, four-sided figure by using four floating rune stones. Each time the Unspeakable-pair collapsed their floating figure, they walked to a different part of the Great Hall before setting up their experiment again.

Harry barely noticed when Professor Quirrell took a seat at the High Table. Harry’s attention was much more on Dumbledore and on Professor Flitwick. Dumbledore asked the little professor a question (which Harry could not hear), and Professor Flitwick gave an answer (which Harry likewise could not hear), but Flitwick looked annoyed as he spoke.

Five minutes later, all three Unspeakable-pairs were at different places in the Great Hall. It was surely coincidence that all three pairs were in the High Table half of the room, and that one pair of Unspeakables was standing directly in front of Professor Quirrell’s part of the High Table.

****

Quirrell was sitting to Unspeakable Seventeen’s left, but Unspeakable Seventeen was not facing Quirrell, he/she was facing Unspeakable Forty-Eight in front of him/her. A clump of four rune stones floated between the two Unspeakables.

Using their red wands, the two Unspeakables floated the four rune stones up, left, right, forwards and backwards, until the four floating stones suggested the vertices of an equilateral tetrahedron.

Unspeakable Seventeen pointed his/her wand at the rune stone that was on the bottom of the tetrahedron and to the left. “Pattius,” he/she said.

Unspeakable Seventeen now pointed his/her wand to the rune stone that was on the bottom and nearer-right. “Caecus,” he/she said.

Unspeakable Forty-Eight pointed his/her wand to the rune stone that was floating above the other three. “Pattius,” he/she said.

Unspeakable Forty-Eight then pointed his/her wand to the rune stone that was on the bottom and nearest to him/her. “Caecus,” he/she said.

Each pair of floating rune stones now was joined by a glowing purple line. Within the space described by the four purple lines and by the four rune-stone vertices, a green mist formed.

Unspeakable Seventeen zapped the mist with red-wand magic as he/she said, “Bae-korr.”

Unspeakable Forty-Eight then magicked the green mist, as he/she said, “Sumann.”

Abruptly Unspeakable Seventeen spun a quarter-turn left, whilst Unspeakable Forty-Eight spun a quarter-turn right. Each Unspeakable simultaneously hit Professor Quirrell, at point-blank range, with a wordless Stunning spell.

****

Harry and everyone else in the Great Hall gasped when two Unspeakables abruptly hit Quirrell with red spells.

Beside Harry, Hermione muttered, “No incantation. I’m envious.”

Suddenly two other Unspeakables were standing in front of Dumbledore, pointing their wands at his chest. “DO NOT INTERFERE, HEADMASTER,” they yelled.

The remaining pair of Unspeakables ran behind the High Table till they were standing behind Quirrell’s chair.

The four Unspeakables who were near Quirrell, by working together, raised the turban-wearing, Stunned professor up from his chair, floated him over the table, and lowered him to the floor that was between the High Table and the four House tables. (At this point, Harry could no longer see Quirrell from where he was sitting.)

“He needs to be on his stomach,” an Unspeakable said. Harry presumed that Quirrell then was magically flipped over.

The two Unspeakables who had stood behind Quirrell each pulled something from his/her pocket and magically enlarged the object. To Harry, the two objects looked like matching handcuffs, except each handcuff had writing on it.

One of the Unspeakables turned to face the Hufflepuff table. “Miss Susan Bones, please come forwards. I want you to witness this.”

Dumbledore (who still had two wands pointed at him) said, “Miss Bones, remain in your seat. What you might see would be deeply disturbing to you.”

Susan ignored the headmaster’s words, and came forwards, to stand in the aisle between the Hufflepuff seventh-years and the Slytherin seventh-years.

Seconds later, Susan blurted, “You’re putting magic-suppression handcuffs on his wrists and round his elbows? Why?”

“Let me remove his turban,” an Unspeakable answered, “and you’ll have your answer.”

“NO!” yelled Dumbledore. “I forbid it!”

Seconds later, Harry heard Susan scream, but could not see what she was screaming about. Then Susan yelled, “That horrid face on the back of Quirrell’s head, whose face is that?”

“It’s the Dark Lord’s face,” an Unspeakable answered.

Hundreds of children screamed.

Then this same Unspeakable turned to face Dumbledore. “You not only let the Dark Lord into the same castle as young children, you let the Dark Lord teach the young children. What were you thinking, sirrah?”

A different Unspeakable said to Susan, “Please use your necklace to tell Director Bones that the Unspeakables are taking the Dark Lord to one of our miscellaneous-experiment rooms. Also inform her that nobody who is not an Unspeakable may see the Dark Lord.”

The three pairs of Unspeakables summoned their tetrahedrons from where the tetrahedrons had remained floating in midair, turned each tetrahedron back into four loose rune stones, pocketed the rune stones, and floated Quirrell out of the Great Hall.

Susan Bones, meanwhile, had laid a hand on the front of her robes, a few inches below her throat, and was talking to someone whom Harry could not see.

Susan’s words, though not spoken loudly, could be heard where Harry was sitting, because nobody else in the Great Hall was saying a word. Probably everyone else in the Great Hall felt as deeply shocked as Harry himself was feeling.

Dumbledore glared at everyone in the Great Hall, both professors and students, then he strode towards the double doors that would take him to his office.

****

Meanwhile, over at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement
In the holding-cells area

The prisoner in Holding Cell 2 was in awful shape. He needed a haircut, he needed a shave, he needed a bath and he needed fattening foods.

The prisoner looked through the bars and through the ward-shimmer at his visitor: Amelia Bones, Director of the DMLE.

“Amy,” the prisoner said in a flat tone. The name was an affectionate one, but the prisoner spoke the name with no affection at all.

“Hello, Sirius,” Amelia said nervously.

****

AUTHOR’S NOTE: What was Unspeakable Twenty-Two doing with the sparkly ball and its black circle? He/she was checking for the presence of a nearby Voldemort soul-piece. Unspeakable Twenty-Two only halfway expected to find even one soul-piece anywhere in the castle; he/she was shocked to find a soul-piece not only in the castle but close by, in the Great Hall.

The sparkly ball’s black circle pointed to that nearest soul-piece, without it being obvious; the sparkly ball’s colour told how close the sparkly ball was to the nearest soul-piece, without it being obvious. Unspeakable Twenty-Two’s first measurement, after three spell-castings that had been intended for calibration, told Unspeakable Twenty-Two that Voldemort was possessing either Snape or Quirrell.

Unspeakable Twenty-Two took four more measurements; though the measurement taken at the foot of the Slytherin table, and the measurement taken by Professor Sinistra’s end of the High Table, both were intended as misdirection for anyone watching. The last measurement taken, when Unspeakable Twenty-Two was standing close to Hagrid, Quirrell and Snape, told the Unspeakable that Voldemort was possessing Quirrell.

As soon as Unspeakable Twenty-Two knew for sure that Voldemort was possessing Quirrell, the Unspeakable rushed out of the Great Hall and back to the Department of Mysteries, to give Croaker an immediate report.

The magic of the sparkly ball and the black circle located the nearest Voldemort soul-piece; Unspeakable Twenty-Two had no idea (yet) that Hogwarts Castle also contained another Voldemort soul-piece: the Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw.

Chapter Text

The Ministry of Magic, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement
Still in the holding-cells area
Still Saturday, 2nd November, morning

Amelia Bones said to Sirius Black, “You are a Pureblood. I may question you under Veritaserum only with your consent. Do you give such consent?”

Sirius answered, “Before I answer any of your questions, Amelia Bones, I demand you answer one of mine. Do you think I’m innocent or do you think I’m guilty?”

“The Veritaserum will reveal your guilt or innocence. I urge you to take it.”

“That isn’t what I asked, Amelia Susan Bones, and you bloody-well know it. The Hufflepuff girl I dated did not pussyfoot.”

Amelia’s shoulders sagged. “The Potter wills—when finally I could read the bloody things—both stated that you are Harry’s oath-sworn godfather. When I tested your wand, it was clean. I’m sure you’re innocent.”

“Then why have I been rotting in that joyless hole for the past ten years?”

“Because somebody, or several somebodies, have been determined to keep you in Azkaban,” she declared. “Your bloody wand wasn’t with the rest of the 1981 evidence, it was with the 1944 evidence!”

Then Sirius stared, open-mouthed, as Amelia Bones, the Director of the DMLE, dropped to her knees outside the door for Holding Cell 2. Amelia contritely hung her head. She said lowly, “Sirius, I should’ve made more of a nuisance of myself, and I didn’t. I was too comfortable and too timid. I didn’t try hard enough to get you a trial. I’m so sorry.”

The silence stretched. Then Sirius grinned. “The grey hair is new, Amy—for me it’ll be like dating somebody’s grandmother—”

“Shut it, tosser,” blushing Amelia said as she stood up. “I’m only one year older than you, you git.”

Sirius’s grin disappeared. “But to answer your question—hell yes, give me Veritaserum. Shit, take my memories for a pensieve too. I want that blond-haired, tattooed ponce to be forced to sit silent in the ‘Bad Faith’ box during my trial, with all of his tricks stopped before he can start them.”

Amelia sighed. “I don’t think Lucius Malfoy is your only enemy here. Dumbledore might be plotting against you too.”

A bit later, when Sirius was questioned in an interrogation room under Veritaserum, he revealed that Peter Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper for Godric’s Hollow and that Peter was a rat animagus, and told his questioners that Dumbledore had cast the Fidelius charm for the Godric’s Hollow house.

After Sirius was given the Veritaserum antidote, he and Amelia resumed their conversation—

Sirius said, “No way could Dumbledore think for a moment that I was guilty—of betraying James and Lily, at least. Which means, if he didn’t speak up in my defence, he definitely was plotting against me. But why?”

Amelia said, “The situation is worse than you think. Yesterday I learnt that a yearmate of Harry’s heard a prophecy. According to the prophecy, Dumbledore is plotting against Harry too; Dumbledore is plotting to kill him.”

Sirius scowled.

****

Earlier (ten minutes after Quirrellmort was captured)
The Great Hall, Gryffindor table

Harry and Hermione were eating still, and were discussing with Lavender, Parvati and Neville about what the capture of Professor-Quirrell-slash-Voldemort might mean. Harry and Hermione were sharing with the other three firsties, their impressions of the Unspeakables.

Professor McGonagall then walked up to Harry, and told him that he was summoned to the headmaster’s office. Harry nearly fell out of his chair when McGonagall told him she would sit with him at the meeting.

Harry obediently walked to Dumbledore’s office—but he took Hermione with him.

Once the trio had arrived at the headmaster’s office, Dumbledore “allowed” McGonagall to leave, “so you can return to your other duties, Minerva.” McGonagall refused to leave.

Dumbledore then tried to throw Hermione out. Harry replied, “I trust her more than I trust you, sir. If she leaves, I leave. Now why am I here?”

Dumbledore said gravely, “Harry my boy, what have you done? Did you send those Unspeakables after Voldemort? They shall die! If they go against Voldemort, they shall die—it is prophesied.”

As Dumbledore spoke those words, he looked like someone whose wise words should be heeded unquestioningly.

Harry gave Dumbledore an angry look. “The Unspeakables won’t die. I gave them permission to act as my Hand.”

The whiskered old wizard looked shocked by Harry’s words.

Hermione nodded. “The Unspeakables are protected now, by the prophecy to which you just referred.”

Dumbledore looked even more shocked—he also looked panicked.

Hermione continued, “Whilst we’re here with you, headmaster, tell us: Why did you let Voldemort teach in our school?”

McGonagall said, “Albus, I would also like to hear your answer to Miss Granger’s question.”

Dumbledore “answered” Hermione’s question, but his answer was useless; he refused to define what he meant by the Greater Good when Hermione pressed him.

Right afterwards, Dumbledore ordered Harry and Hermione out of his office.

****

A bit later (an hour after Quirrellmort was captured)
The Department of Mysteries, in the corridor outside the miscellaneous-experiment rooms

Director Saul Croaker was sitting in a conjured chair in the middle of the floor, between white walls. Behind him, the white walls were interrupted by doors to twenty-four miscellaneous-experiment rooms.

With Croaker were two Unspeakables (and two Disillusioned Aurors, on loan from Director Bones).

Minister Fudge, the pink toad and Lucius Malfoy walked up to Croaker, all three acting as though they owned the place.

Fudge said pompously, “I’m told that you have captured You-Know-Who, who supposedly is on the back of a professor’s head. We wish to see him.”

Instead of replying to the Minister’s demand, Croaker cast the Tempus charm. Croaker remarked to Unspeakable Eighty-Seven, “Darn it. Nine minutes later and I would’ve won the pool.”

Croaker looked at Fudge and said, “So sorry, mates. Under the Treaty of Separation of Magical Britain from Nonmagical Britain of 1642, once someone or some thing is put into any Department of Mysteries experiment room, the Director of the DOM—that’s me—has complete authority to deny admittance to anyone he chooses, except for the British monarch. None of you lot are Unspeakables, nor are you Queen Elizabeth, so you’re going no farther.”

Smirking Croaker added, in a blatantly insincere voice, “It’s for your own safety.”

Fudge yelled, “I’m the Minister for Magic!”

Croaker smiled. “Indeed you are. But right now, this and five sickles will buy you a hot cup of tea.”

“If you’ve captured You-Know-Who, which I doubt, I need to see him for myself.”

“Are your eyes failing you, Minister? My sympathies. Otherwise, there is no need to bring the Senior Undersecretary and Lord Malfoy with you, hm?”

Fudge demanded, “Why is You-Know-Who here, in some Unspeakables crypt, instead of in a holding cell? If this is You-Know-Who, he’s broken the law and should’ve been arrested.”

Croaker said scornfully, “Because all four of us know that if Voldemort had been put in a holding cell instead of one of my experiment rooms, you, Minister, would be a million galleons richer by now”—Croaker looked meaningfully at Malfoy—“and Voldemort would have been released on some flimsy excuse. Besides—”

Umbridge snarled, “You will speak respectfully to your superior, Minister Fudge!”

Croaker shrugged, then looked at Malfoy. “Here’s another reason to put Voldemort in an experiment room. The Dark Lord directed his Death Eaters to perform atrocities on Muggles and Muggle-borns, right? It’s only fitting that the Dark Lord be himself subjected to some quite dark experiments in our miscellaneous-experiment rooms, I think.”

Croaker’s smile at Malfoy was cruel.

Malfoy sneered, “Remember that when I was a Death Eater, it was because I was Imperiused.”

“So you admit you’re weak-minded? Good to know. Anyway, I tire of this. None of you may come in here. Begone.”

Malfoy sneered, “And if we choose to go farther, Croaker, who shall stop us? I see only three Unspeakables, including you.”

Croaker replied, “You’d be surprised what Unspeakables can do when their backs are up. I’m warning you now, all three of you: leave.”

“I think not,” Malfoy said. He yanked the snake’s-head end of his cane away from the rest of his cane, which exposed his wand—

Which was as far as Malfoy got. A red Stunner spell hit him, originating from seemingly empty space.

Senior Auror Grenwick made himself visible, whilst Croaker and the other two Unspeakables were pointing wands at Umbridge and at Fudge. Grenwick was wearing a “DOM” badge that was sticking-charmed to his Auror robes. Grenwick now slapped magic-suppression handcuffs on Malfoy.

“Release Lord Malfoy at once!” Fudge demanded.

“Nope, not happening,” Croaker said. He pulled a half-foot piece of parchment from his pocket, wrote Lucius Malfoy’s name on it, then shoved the parchment into Senior Auror Grenwick’s pocket.

Croaker said to Grenwick, “Senior Auror, under my authority granted by the 1642 treaty, I arrest Lucius Malfoy for trespassing into Department of Mysteries experimental spaces. He is under my authority until his Wizengamot trial. Which means, One, put him in a holding cell; Two, question him using a DOM Truthstone, regardless of his blood-status; and Three, only I may order his release before his Wizengamot trial.”

As Grenwick floated unconscious Malfoy down the corridor, Umbridge snarled as she pointed her fat finger at Croaker. “Now it’s time for all three of you to be gone! You’re fired! Leave the building at once.”

Croaker chuckled. “Weren’t you listening, witch? You don’t have the authority to do that. Not now, not to me. Begone, witch.”

“How dare you!” Umbridge screamed. “Come, Cornelius.” She stepped forwards as she drew her wand—

—but the Unspeakables had been expecting this. Dolores was Stupefyed in stereo.

Another Auror suddenly appeared, seemingly out of thin air. This Auror, who also was wearing a “DOM” badge that was sticking-charmed to his robes, put magic-suppression cuffs on Umbridge, whilst Croaker filled out another arrest warrant. Then Umbridge, like Lucius Malfoy, was floated away towards a holding cell for questioning and trial.

Croaker looked at Minister Fudge, who looked both angry and frightened. Croaker said, “Minister, I have to wonder why your associates are so determined to be in the same room as the Dark Lord Voldemort. Mere curiosity, or do they want to turn him loose so he’s free to prey on Wizarding Britain again?”

“Curiosity, mere curiosity, nothing more,” Fudge said nervously.

“Of course, of course. Realise, Minister, if word gets out that you’re willing to be bribed to free the Dark Lord, your vaults will fill up quickly—but you won’t live long enough to enjoy your ill-gotten coinage. Everyone who isn’t a Death Eater will want to spill your blood. All this, of course, assumes that Queen Elizabeth doesn’t order you arrested for treason—which carries a Muggle death penalty.”

Seconds passed, whilst silent Fudge and silent Croaker stared at each other.

Fudge said, “I just remembered, I’ve urgent work to do in my office.” He hurried away.

Croaker murmured to Fudge’s retreating back, “Just because you’ve managed to avoid being arrested, Minister Fudge, doesn’t mean you’re safe from a no-confidence vote. Especially when your best mate Malfoy testifies under Truthstone that he came down here to free Volde—”

“Good morning, Saul,” said an unwelcome voice. “I have urgent business that I need to discuss with you.”

Walking up to Croaker, clad in all his rainbow-robed glory, was Albus Percival Dumbledore.

Croaker cast the Tempus charm, then frowned. Another bet lost, he thought.

****

Croaker would not bother asking Dumbledore why he was here. Why be lied to? But Croaker was sure that Dumbledore’s true reason for coming here, now, was to free Voldemort.

But not because of ideology, which was probably Lucius’s reason. No, Dumbledore’s reason for freeing Voldemort would be selfish and glory-seeking, and totally unconcerned about the harm that an again-free Voldemort would cause for Wizarding Britain.

Thus thinking, Croaker said, “Albus, I can think of nothing I wish to discuss with you, ‘urgent’ or otherwise. And you’ve not one good reason to be here. Leave. Now.”

“Saul, you have Lord Voldemort in one of your miscellaneous-experiment rooms. As Chief Warlock, I insist on seeing him.”

Croaker chuckled. “Am I the only person in Wizarding Britain who has read the full text of the 1642 Treaty of Separation of Wizarding Britain from Nonmagical Britain? The purpose of the DOM is to invent ‘family magic’ for the Ministry—and for the British Crown. We can’t do this if every nitwit in plum-coloured robes”—meaning, every Wizengamot seat-holder—“thinks he can bugger us. Well, if you’d bother to read the treaty, you’d discover that politically speaking, the Department of Mysteries is shielded from the Minister and the Wizengamot by, so to speak, a ley-lines runic Protego,” meaning a nonstop, overpowered magical shield.

“I refuse to believe your department is so well protected. You disappoint me, Saul, trying to lie to me.”

Croaker laughed, which made Dumbledore frown. “When they were negotiating the treaty in 1642, four paragraphs that absolutely protected the DOM were written in. Surprise, surprise, King Charles had smart advisors—though the king himself was a drooling idiot. Alas, on the magical side, Chief Warlock Ares Black was so anxious to create an autonomous magical Britain by treaty that he didn’t argue when King Charles asked for ‘this one little thing.’ Three hundred fifty years later, both Fudge and you are stuck with the deal.”

Dumbledore said, “This has been mildly interesting to hear, I suppose, but I have other business to tend to.” With surprising speed, Albus drew his wand and pointed it at the three Unspeakables. “Obliviate!”

Croaker saw the tip of Dumbledore’s wand glow blueish-green—and this was all that happened. No Obliviation spell was cast.

****

In 1644, the Bishop family had broken into the Department of Mysteries’ miscellaneous-experiment rooms. The family had stolen write-ups of newly discovered spells and had Obliviated some Unspeakables.

The Department of Mysteries then had made damned sure that such a thing never happened again. Now in 1991, Dumbledore probably had not noticed, but the walls on either side of the corridor in which he and Croaker were talking, were covered with many white-on-white runes. Dumbledore, who was not wearing a “DOM” badge, got his magic 99-percent suppressed here.

As for the Bishop family, who had robbed the Department of Mysteries’ experiment rooms in 1644? By 1645, Unspeakables had wiped out the Bishop family completely.

****

Dumbledore had just tried, and failed, to cast an Obliviate spell.

Now Croaker pointed his red wand at Dumbledore. “Petrificus Totalus. Silencio.” The whiskered wizard now was conscious, but was unable to move or speak. Croaker continued, “Accio all wands held or carried by Albus Dumbledore—oh my.”

Croaker, whilst holding Dumbledore’s strange-looking wand in his hand, turned his head to the left. “Unspeakable Twenty-Six, please bring me a half-cubit-cubed magic-proof box. Open please.”

Half a minute later, the sent-away Unspeakable returned with a box that measured 18 inches by 18 inches by 9 inches deep; the hinged lid of the box was open. Croaker dropped Dumbledore’s wand into the box; the Unspeakable closed the lid of the box.

Croaker said to the Unspeakable, “Put the box in Misc Exp Room 23.” After Unspeakable Twenty-Six left, Croaker pulled out a blank arrest warrant and wrote Dumbledore’s name on it.

Croaker smiled evilly as he wrote. Not looking at Dumbledore, Croaker said, “It’s funny, those four paragraphs that King Charles got written unchanged into the 1642 treaty? The king wanted things set up so that if he ever wanted the Department of Mysteries to do magical research for a king or queen of Britain, nobody in the magical government could interfere. But Charles and all the royals after him either forgot about the power the treaty gave them, or they didn’t care. Queen Victoria was the last British royal to put the DOM to work—and she did this before you were born, Albus. But those four paragraphs still are part of Wizarding Britain law; and on Friday, Malfoy, then Umbridge, then you are going to experience some unintended consequences.”

Then Croaker looked at Dumbledore and said, “You were a fool to come here. Did you think I couldn’t figure out that you planned to release Voldemort and to make all of us look bad? Now you’ll sit in a holding cell till next Friday; then instead of presiding at miscreants’ trials, you’ll feature in one. Complete with chains-chair and the whole Wizengamot staring at you, also questioning under Truthstone—sounds lovely, right? As for your exceptional wand, it’s gone, you aren’t getting it back, and you just gave us a new research project.” Croaker lowered his voice. “Imagine if we Unspeakables can duplicate the Elder Wand.”

Dumbledore’s eyes widened in horror.

Croaker watched Unspeakable Eight-Seven float Albus Dumbledore down the corridor towards the DMLE holding cells. As the two figures got smaller, Croaker thought, If Dumbledore actually serves time in Azkaban, this would serve the “Greater Good.”

****

Meanwhile, in the Hogwarts dungeons

Harry had Hermione standing next to him to give him courage. Harry took a deep, calming breath and murmured, “Gryffindors charge ahead.”

Then Harry knocked on the door of Snape’s office, which was next to the Potions laboratory.

“Enter,” commanded the voice on the other side of the door.

“Potter,” Snape growled, before Harry had taken two steps into the room. “And Miss Granger.”

Before Snape could take points for breathing, Harry said, “Professor Flitwick says you knew my mum. As a student.”

Snape nodded. “Lily and I both grew up in the town of Cokeworth. I was actually the one that told her she was a witch; I saw her in the park with her sister, making a flower float. We were best friends beginning from age eight. In Gryffindor/Slytherin Potions lab, we were partners for five years.”

Harry was smiling now.

Snape snarled, “Now you know everything I wish to tell you, Potter.” Snape drew his wand, and used it to point to the door that now was four feet behind Harry and Hermione. “Go away—I have better things to do on a Saturday than to indulge the idle curiosity of a pampered prince.”

So saying, Snape gave the two firsties a gentle—for Snape—magical push out the door, then he magically shut the door.

BAM-BAM-BAM! Harry yelled through the door, “You think I’m a pampered prince? And everyone tells me you’re smart.”

Soon Snape yanked open the door. He glared and said, “Five points from Gryffindor for insulting a professor.” Then Snape shut the door again.

Hermione said, “Erm, Harry, maybe we should go.”

Harry replied, “Why? It’s not like if I act nice, he won’t take points or give detentions.”

Then he pounded on the door again. “I have to live with Petunia Dursley, remember her? And you think I’m pampered? Ha! The pampering goes the other way. I do their cooking, I do their gardening, I mow their bloody grass in July heat—and in return, I’m not fed! The Dursleys treat me like a Caribbean sugar-plantation slave.”

Snape opened the door again. “Another five points from Gryffindor, Potter, for your caterwauling. I doubt your life is truly so bad as you tell it—according to the headmaster, when you were growing up, you were safe and loved.”

But by now, Harry had stuck his foot in the doorjamb, so Snape could not shut the door. Harry sneered, “Really, ‘safe and loved’? That’s two lies in three words. And you believed Dumbledore? Are you related to Crabbe and Goyle?”

“Five more points from Gryffindor, for insulting a professor. Remove your foot, Potter, before I remove it—from your ankle.”

Hermione said, “Harry, this is a lost cause. Let’s go.”

Harry looked at Snape. “You refuse to tell me why my mother’s friendship with you ended. But now I’m convinced: Whatever Mum’s reasons were, they were bloody good reasons. You, ‘friend’ Severus, are a berk blighter bell-end, and I figure Mum finally realised this.”

Harry yanked his foot back, clear of the door and doorjamb. Harry grabbed the doorknob and he closed the door this time, slamming it.

****

That night

Severus Snape dreamt he was visited by Lily.

The last time that Snape had seen Lily alive had been at an Order of the Phoenix meeting in 1981. Lily’s red hair had been braided down the middle of her back—“Because, everyone, when your hair is long and loose, a baby will grab your hair! And pull on it! Which hurts!” Lily that last evening had sat at the table with a black-haired toddler brat in her arms.

Lily of the dream had her hair in a braid down the centre of her back, and her arms were wrapped round a toddler-boy-shaped glowing thing—almost like at that 1981 OOTP meeting. But in the dream, Lily’s face and height were not those of a woman of twenty-one, but were the face and height of a girl of sixteen—and Lily was wearing Gryffindor robes.

Lily had been sixteen, and had been wearing Gryffindor robes, when Snape had called her a mudblood and Lily had ended their friendship.

Dream-Lily looked at Snape and said angrily, “What does Harry have to do to rate simple professionalism from you? Today he reminded you that he is my son too, not only James’. But no, Sev, you couldn’t let go of your hatred for a dead man, even for five minutes.”

Snape said nothing.

“Well?” Lily demanded.

“In hindsight, I see that I could have handled the encounter better.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “No kidding, you could’ve handled things better. Listen carefully, ‘old friend,’ because I’m here to give you a warning”—she said the next part dramatically—“from beyond the grave. Are you listening?”

“To you? Always.”

“Too bad I no longer have any reason to listen to you. Anyway, the warning: Get your affairs in order, Severus Tobias Snape, because your remaining time on Earth grows short.”

****

AUTHOR’S NOTE: The Unspeakables have several special research rooms in canon: the Love Room, the Time Room, and the room with tentacled brains in tanks. Those rooms are never used in my story, so are not mentioned in my story. But I figured that the Unspeakables would not limit themselves to what categories of research they did, so would have rooms set aside for uncategorised experiments. These miscellaneous-experiment rooms, twenty-four in all and all accessed by a common corridor, are what I describe in this chapter.

Chapter Text

The next day
Sunday, 3rd November, after dinner
In the Gryffindor common room

Everyone in the common room, except for Hermione, was doing end-of-weekend homework—and they were starting to look stressed. Hermione thought she would give everyone else a laugh, by reading a brief passage from Dark Wizard with a Bright Smile—

Hildegard Measly, a shapely, ginger-haired Gryffindor, was a witch on a mission. After seventh-year NEWT-level Potions class, she marched up to Muscleus Firmabbs and said, “Firmabbs! You need to stop!”

Slytherin-robed Firmabbs looked Hildegard up and down. He smiled then, showing white teeth. This smile made Hildegard feel funny inside.

Then he said, “Measly, I do believe that in six years and some months of schooling together, this is the first time you’ve ever chosen to speak to me. I’m not sure I even recall your first name.” He paused. “I remember! Your first name is Hildegard. But all the boys at school have called you ‘Hills’ since third year.”

Hermione stopped reading. She looked over at Paula Proudfoot, the Gryffindor seventh-year girl prefect, and asked, “What does Muscleus Firmabbs mean by calling her ‘Hills’? Does he think Hildegard is interested in hiking and in mountain-climbing?”

Hermione heard laughter in the common room, but she could not figure out what she had said that was funny.

Prefect Proudfoot snapped, “Stop laughing, you lot! She’s twelve years old, so she doesn’t know these things.”

Then Prefect Proudfoot explained to Hermione, “Firmabbs is implying that Measly has large breasts.”

“Oh,” Hermione said. Blushing crimson, she went back to reading aloud—

Firmabbs smiled at Hildegard again, and she again felt funny inside.

Firmabbs continued, “I remember now, you’re betrothed to Lames Spatter and, less than a year from now, you shall marry into his disgustingly Light family.”

Then Firmabbs bowed, and asked, “How may I be of service, Miss Hildegard Measly of Elder House Measly?”

She poked him in the chest. “You ruined the life of my friend Polonia! She dropped out of Hogwarts because of you!”

Firmabbs smiled at Hildegard again, damn him. “Students drop out of Hogwarts all the time. Something else has you angry. Could it be because”—Firmabbs lowered his voice—“after Polonia left the school, she rushed to Benny’s House of Shags in Erottik Alley and applied for a job?”

“Exactly!” yelled Hildegard. “You turned Polonia into a shags-addict!”

Firmabbs smiled at Hildegard again. (Calm down, witch!) He said, “All I ever did was to convince Polonia one time to go with me into an empty classroom and to bare herself to the waist. Then I levitated two feathers and I showed her a trick. Soon afterwards, I convinced her to get totally starkers, then I worked my trick—but with three levitated feathers. After all this, things took their natural course.”

Hermione was just closing the book—and watching Angelina Johnson fan herself—when Ron Weasley dropped down next to her on the couch. He said, “It’s time for you to help me with my homework.”

Hermione did not like Ron’s attitude at all, but refusing a request for homework-help was almost unthinkable for Hermione.

She said, “Tomorrow we have essays for Transfiguration, Herbology and Charms due. Let me see your Transfiguration essay, since that’s the class we have first.”

He said, “I haven’t started it yet.”

“I see,” Hermione snapped. “What about Herbology? Have you started your essay for that? You’ve had the time; you’ve played lots of chess in the common room this weekend.”

Ron said irritably, “No, Granger, I haven’t started on my Herbology essay either.”

“Your Charms essay, is it started?”

“What do you think? No. I figured you’d help me with them.”

“I’ll help you with them, but I won’t do them for you.”

Ron’s face turned red, and his ears turned red. “Why not? You owe me—three days ago, me and Harry saved you from the troll, remember?”

“Ronald Weasley, you didn’t do more than to magically slap that troll across the cheek. And how did you manage to do Wingardium leviosa at all? Have you forgotten? I taught you how to say the incantation correctly, after you kept saying it wrong. And why was I in that lavatory when the troll came to call? Because of your cruel words! No, Ronald Weasley, I do not owe you a thing; but you owe me an apology. Which I’m still waiting for.”

Then a pair of male voices spoke to Ron—

“You still haven’t apologised to—”

“—Gryffindor’s lovely genius, Miss Granger?”

“Dad would be—”

“—so disappointed in you.”

Ron grabbed his books and parchments, and rushed towards the stairs for his dormitory.

“Oi, Ron Weasley!” Parvati called out, just before Ron reached the stairs.

Ron spun round. “What?”

“You were ‘heroic’ in the lavatory whilst you stood by the door the entire time. Lavender and I haven’t forgotten this.”

Ron stomped loudly up the stairs to his dorm. Hermione, Lavender and Parvati exchanged looks, then they all giggled.

Then Lavender and Parvati each went back to writing her own essays. Hermione smiled in approval.

****

Five days later
Friday, 8th November, 9 a.m
Courtroom Ten, in the Ministry of Magic

Albus Dumbledore, the Chief Warlock who was tasked with presiding over trials, was himself scheduled for a trial today. So the Wizengamot session’s first order of business was to choose an Acting Chief Warlock. This job was given to Cyrus Greengrass.

****

Sirius Black

Sirius Black was put on trial first. No doubt Lucius Malfoy, Dolores Umbridge and Albus Dumbledore would have tried hard to thwart Sirius legally gaining his freedom, but they each had legal troubles that were bigger than Sirius’s (though those three did not know this yet).

As for Minister Fudge, he was openly supportive of Sirius Black and his acquittal; Fudge blamed the entire ten-years-in-Azkaban-without-a-trial screw-up on former Minister Millicent Bagnold—and also on Albus Dumbledore, no surprise.

(Of course, Fudge’s kindly attitude towards Sirius would have been quite different had Black escaped the prison, instead of having been transferred to a DMLE holding cell by order of the Director of the DMLE.)

Sirius’s trial took no more than twenty minutes—with those minutes filled by reading the relevant parts of the Potter wills, Director Bones reporting the results when she did a spells-search on Sirius Black’s wand (“no deadly spells”), and Black testifying both under Veritaserum and by pensieve memories.

One of Sirius Black’s pensieve-memories clearly showed Peter Pettigrew transforming into a brown rat that had had a missing digit on its left front paw, after Pettigrew had cut off his left finger with a knife.

When it came time to vote on Sirius Black’s guilt or innocence, only the Wizengamot members with left-forearm tattoos voted for “Guilty.”

Once Sirius Black was acquitted on all charges, Amelia Bones walked over to him. From a pocket of her robes, she pulled out a transparent evidence-bag that had a wand in it. Director Bones handed the wand to Sirius and smiled warmly when she said, “Congratulations, Mr Black, you’re a wizard again.”

Then Sirius cited the Potter wills, which just had been put into evidence, with Sirius right afterwards asking for guardianship of Harry James Potter.

Only two Wizengamot seat-holders voted against Sirius Black receiving full guardianship of Harry Potter.

Once Sirius Black was granted full guardianship of Harry Potter, Amelia Bones walked over to him again. Again she reached into a pocket of her robes; this time she pulled out a Gringotts letter that on the outside, she had written, “Audit results.” Director Bones handed the letter to Sirius Black, and murmured something in his ear about Dumbledore.

****

Lucius Malfoy

Lucius Malfoy was the second defendant to be tried this Friday. Since he was a Pureblood, the usual law said that he could not be questioned under Veritaserum without his consent—and nobody expected Malfoy to give consent.

Too bad for Lucius, he had been arrested by the Department of Mysteries, for committing a crime against the Department of Mysteries, and Saul Croaker (Director of the Department of Mysteries) was acting as Lucius Malfoy’s prosecutor.

What this meant, so Croaker informed the Wizengamot, was that for Malfoy’s trial, seldom-used laws, which hailed all the way back to 1642, would come into play over Malfoy’s objections. As Croaker informed the Wizengamot, “According to treaty, ‘Those wronging the Place of Mysteries are to be put to the question at trial to the Director’s satisfaction.’ The treaty makes no exception for Purebloods.”

Lucius Malfoy was sitting down and was unable to move, because the chains-chair had him immobilised. So Malfoy could do nothing when Croaker dropped a “Truthstone” (a large, flat, runes-covered stone) in Lucius’s lap.

Croaker asked Malfoy, “Six days ago, on Saturday, 2nd November, did you try to illegally enter the Department of Mysteries area that is set aside for twenty-four miscellaneous-experiment rooms?”

Malfoy replied, “You know I did, you were there.”

“Why did you do this?”

“My son wrote me that the Dark Lord, who was a face on the back of Quirinus Quirrell’s head, had been captured by Unspeakables and they planned to take him to an ‘experiment room.’ Last Saturday, I went to the experiment rooms to rescue the Dark Lord.”

Croaker asked, “If you had succeeded at taking Voldemort”—people in the courtroom screamed—“out of the Ministry, what did you plan to do then?”

Lucius Malfoy answered, “I planned to take him back to Malfoy Manor and help him to regain a body, then help him to resume the war for Pureblood Supremacy.”

People in the room murmured, hearing this. Malfoy’s expression did not change.

“So you are a willing Death Eater? In 1981, you claimed to have been Imperiused.”

“I lied. Putting lots of gold in Bagnold’s hands beat living close to Dementors for years at a time.”

“Were any of the ‘Imperiused’ Death Eaters actually Imperiused?”

“I doubt it, but don’t know. If there were Imperiused Death Eaters, they didn’t bear the Dark Mark. To take the Dark Mark, the Dark Lord’s oath must be taken willingly. And the Dark Lord also requires, in order to earn the Dark Mark, that you pass an initiation.”

“What was your initiation, in order to earn the Dark Mark?”

“I raped a Muggle wife and her Muggle daughter, then AK’d the entire family.”

Gasps of horror were heard in the courtroom.

Croaker asked, “Are those the only Muggles you’ve killed?”

“Not hardly. I lost count at forty-eight.”

Croaker heard gasps of horror in the courtroom.

“Have you killed Muggle-borns, halfbloods and Purebloods as a Death Eater?”

“Of course,” Lucius replied. He named fifteen magical people he had killed, many of whom had been related to seat-holders who were now sitting in judgement of him.

Exclamations of “No!” and sobbing were how people in the courtroom reacted to these words.

Croaker asked, “Would you say that all your killings had made you part of You-Know-Who’s inner circle, or were you on the fringes of the group?”

“I was definitely part of the inner circle. The Dark Lord personally handed me a black book with ‘T M Riddle’ stamped on the front cover in gold. I’m not sure what it was, but the book dripped Dark magic. The Dark Lord trusted me to keep the book safe—I’m proud of this.”

Someone in the courtroom murmured, “Malfoy isn’t just Dark, he’s evil.”

Croaker said, “So to review: Every Dark Mark-bearing person who was arrested in 1981 and 1982 for being a Death Eater, who claimed the Imperius defence at trial, lied to the Wizengamot.”

“Exactly. Me, Goyle, Crabbe, the Carrows, Yaxley—we played you lot for fools. Best money I ever spent.”

“You, Lucius Malfoy, have committed murder dozens of times, with your victims being of every blood type?”

Malfoy shrugged. “Yes.”

After the Truthstone was taken away, Lucius’s smug, sneering expression changed to a look of panic and horror—What have I done?

Some of the members of Dark families who had pleaded the Imperius defence, now were sitting in the courtroom—many were even Wizengamot seat-holders. They were Stupefyed and were arrested before Malfoy’s guilt or innocence was voted upon.

When Malfoy’s guilt was voted upon, he was found guilty of trespassing in the Department of Mysteries with intent to steal information (the information contained in the body of the Dark Lord), of forty-eight counts of homicide of nonmagicals, and of fifteen counts of homicide of magicals.

Lucius Malfoy was sentenced to the Veil of Death, with sentence to be carried out as quickly as possible.

****

Dolores Umbridge was escorted to the chains-chair in Courtroom Ten, all the while screaming threats to fire the Aurors who escorted her. Once she was chained to the chair, she likewise had a Truthstone dropped in her lap.

****

Nobody noticed what happened to the empty chair, elsewhere in Courtroom Ten.

In the part of Courtroom Ten that was reserved for Wizengamot seat-holders, was a black-leather chair that had been empty all morning. On the headrest of this empty chair was the crest for House Malfoy.

In Courtroom Ten, all eyes were on Dolores Umbridge at the moment when, elsewhere in the Ministry building, Lucius Malfoy was tossed through the Veil of Death.

For 273 years, the House Malfoy crest had been on the headrest of that seat-holder chair. But now the crest faded away, never to be seen again.

****

Dolores Umbridge

Under Truthstone questioning, Umbridge stated that she had intended to help Lucius Malfoy carry Professor Quirrell/the Dark Lord out of whichever miscellaneous-experiment room he was in. She admitted that she had taken one step towards the twenty-four doors before she had been Stunned.

Umbridge admitted, under Truthstone, that she did not care why Lucius Malfoy wanted to free You-Know-Who. Malfoy had paid a fat bribe to Cornelius, and Umbridge was determined that Malfoy get his money’s worth—so that Cornelius would receive more nice bribes in the future.

Then Croaker asked, “Dolores Umbridge, are you a Pureblood like you tell everyone you are?”

Umbridge answered, “No, I’m a halfblood.”

Gasps were heard in the courtroom.

Croaker said, “The Ministry is famous for favouring Purebloods in hiring and promotions. How did you get promoted ahead of Purebloods?”

“By murder,” she answered. (Gasps were heard from spectators.) Umbridge told of murdering two Purebloods, Denise Slughorn and Paul Macmillan; murdering two halfbloods, Nigel Jones and Leona Prewett; and injuring halfblood John Longbottom badly enough to cripple him. In all five cases, she had committed her crimes using potions that she had bought in Bulgaria.

Umbridge declared that when Cornelius Fudge pardoned her—something she was certain would happen today—she planned to send a Dementor or two to kill Croaker.

Dolores Umbridge was found guilty of capital crimes (and guilty of trespassing in the DOM), and was sentenced to be Kissed. The sentence promptly was carried out, right there in Courtroom Ten.

****

Albus Dumbledore

Albus Dumbledore was escorted from the pretrial pen into the courtroom, and was dropped into the chains-chair. Once his arms and legs were chained so he could not move them, Croaker dropped the Truthstone in Dumbledore’s lap.

Croaker said, “Albus Dumbledore, you are accused of attempting mind-magic spells on three Unspeakables, with the intent to steal Department of Mysteries secret information that is contained in the body of the Dark Lord. Did you do this?”

Dumbledore replied, “I tried, but for some reason, my wide-cast Obliviate didn’t cast. Why was that, Saul?”

“That’s a secret, Dumbledore. Why did you try to Obliviate us?”

“So you would forget I was near the miscellaneous-experiment rooms, so I could visit them all till I found the room in which you were keeping Tom Riddle, a.k.a Lord Voldemort.”

People in the courtroom made noise when Dumbledore spoke that name.

Croaker asked, “Tom Riddle is the Dark Lord’s real name?”

“Tom Marvolo Riddle, yes.”

“If you had slipped by us, once you found You-Know-Who in one of our M E rooms, what did you intend to do?”

“Sneak him out of the room, then sneak him out of the Ministry, then tell the Daily Prophet that the Department of Mysteries had sloppy security. When Voldemort started killing again, the sheep would blame the DOM for not preventing his escape, and would beg me, ‘Save us!’ ”

“Why would you want You-Know-Who running free in Wizarding Britain?”

“Because there’s a prophecy about Tom Riddle. The prophecy says that Harry Potter is the only person who can kill Tom Riddle, but Harry might die in the attempt. But Harry can’t die if Tom Riddle spends his last days in a DOM experiment room, can he?”

Croaker said, “I’ve heard the prophecy to which you refer; in fact, I listened to it a few days ago. I say your interpretation of the prophecy is wrong. What do you say to this?”

“Saul, I am older than you, more magically powerful than you and I defeated Grindelwald. I am never wrong.”

“Why do you want Harry Potter to die?”

“The prophecy allows three outcomes. If Harry Potter kills the Dark Lord and survives, then Harry Potter becomes today’s hero, as famous and beloved as when I defeated Grindelwald in the 1940s—and I become a has-been. No to this! The second possibility is that Harry kills Tom Riddle, but dies at the same time. This will not help Harry’s reputation; everyone will figure that the boy who fought the Dark Lord managed to cast a lucky shot before he died. The third possibility, and the one I am trying to make happen, is that Harry dies, Tom Riddle lives, and the prophecy is fulfilled; then I defeat Tom and I become even more famous as the defeater of two Dark Lords, Grindelwald and Riddle.”

Croaker heard gasps of outraged horror in the courtroom.

“How are you making sure Harry dies when he someday battles You-Know-Who, as the prophecy foretells?”

“Right after the Potter parents died, I bound the core of toddler Harry, then placed him with his abusive Muggle relatives. I visited him only one time in the next ten years, before he came to Hogwarts. During that visit in 1986, I bound Harry’s magical core for the second time, healed Harry’s uncle, Obliviated everyone, and haven’t been back since. Meanwhile, Harry’s relatives starved him, beat him and insulted him. I Confundused Boudicca Grenwick, the WCS Director, to make sure that WCS never checked up on Harry. Meanwhile, I ensured, with an owl-mail-redirect ward on Harry, that no letter from any wizard or witch or their child reached Harry. Both Lily’s sister and I kept Harry completely ignorant of the wizarding world. When Harry got his Hogwarts letter, I assigned Rubeus Hagrid, who is gormless and unquestioningly loyal to me, to take Harry to Diagon Alley, rather than to have Minerva McGonagall do it—this way, Harry was told almost nothing about the magical world.”

Dumbledore’s voice in the courtroom now sounded delighted: “The results of all my schemes were beautiful—at Harry’s Sorting, the boy was small, physically weak, magically weak and ignorant; the idea that this boy could one day fight and defeat Tom Riddle was laughable. What else did I do? I set up Harry to be befriended by Ronald Weasley, the youngest Weasley son, who is hot-tempered like his mother and lazy besides, so that Harry would not study during his Hogwarts years. This worked for two months, but alas, for some reason, Harry’s friendship with Ronald Weasley has withered.”

“James Potter had relatives; how did you keep any of them from becoming Harry Potter’s guardian?”

“As Chief Warlock, I sealed both James’ will and Lily’s will, ‘to keep Harry Potter safe from Death Eater attacks.’ Nobody in the Wizengamot, except for the Dark families, ever challenged this. Then I persuaded the Wizengamot to appoint me as Harry’s magical guardian. After this, I refused to tell any of Harry’s magical relatives where Harry was, so they had no way of proving I was deliberately shirking my guardianship duties. Andromeda Black Tonks made a nuisance of herself for ten years; but I’ve successfully stymied her.”

Croaker said, “Half an hour ago, the Wizengamot acquitted Sirius Black and gave him guardianship of Harry Potter. If you were to be acquitted at trial today, what would you do about this?”

“I will say that Sirius Black is as mad as a March hare after ten years near Dementors, so should be no child’s guardian, whereas I have been Harry’s magical guardian for ten years, so I will continue the task till Harry turns seventeen.”

Croaker asked sceptically, “You think people would be swayed by such an argument?”

“Of course. Whom are the sheep going to believe, a member of the notorious Black family, or me, the Leader of the Light?”

Onlookers in the courtroom hissed.

At this point, Croaker removed the Truthstone from Dumbledore’s lap, and Greengrass called for a vote on Dumbledore’s guilt or innocence.

Dumbledore sat in the chains-chair, his eyes twinkling as the vote was called. To Croaker, Dumbledore looked genuinely shocked when he was found guilty of trespassing in the DOM, and shocked again when he was sentenced to five years in Azkaban’s high-security wing.

****

Meanwhile, in the DOM’s Miscellaneous Experiment Room 23

A magically locked room was empty of everything except for a magic-proof box on the floor. This magic-proof box contained the Elder Wand that Director Croaker had taken from Albus Dumbledore.

There was no flash of light, no strange sound—no special effects happened that would alert the Unspeakable on duty to anything unusual. But inside the magic-proof box, the Elder Wand disappeared.

****

Back in Courtroom Ten

As Dumbledore was floated out of the courtroom, whilst again wearing magic-suppression handcuffs, he shouted, “But everything I did, I did for the Greater Good!”

As soon as Chief Warlock Greengrass called for new business, Augusta Longbottom immediately moved for a Vote of No Confidence for Minister Fudge. Amos Diggory seconded.

After what Lucius Malfoy and Dolores Umbridge had said under Truthstone, Fudge had no defenders. Three minutes after Augusta Longbottom had been recognised and had made her motion, Cornelius Fudge was officially sacked as Minister for Magic.

The vote for a new Minister for Magic would be held the following Friday, 15th November. After this decision was made, the Wizengamot adjourned.

****

In the headmistress’s office, Hogwarts

Minerva was doing parchmentwork, which never seemed to end, when the Spirit of Hogwarts appeared.

The Spirit of Hogwarts looked like a marble statue of a young woman—a statue which could move and talk, and which was wearing four-colour robes that displayed the Hogwarts crest. “She” was a magical construct, but was more sentient than a magical painting.

The Spirit told Minerva, “Wrinkly”—the Hogwarts head house-elf—“informed me that Lucius Malfoy”—who was, amongst other titles, a member of the Hogwarts Board of Governors—“has been executed, and Headmaster Dumbledore has been put in prison for five years.”

Minerva said in surprise, “The whiskered windbag couldn’t nobble the Wizengamot into acquitting him?” Then she asked the Spirit, “Why are you telling me about Malfoy? Isn’t it one of your tasks to invite someone to be a replacement Board member, following rules set by the Founders, without input from the headmaster?”

The Spirit of Hogwarts replied, “Normally yes, but Headmaster Dumbledore has harmed the school, and to fix this, I need to appoint a Board member who is open to new ideas. I need names.”

Minerva tapped her chin with a fingertip. “The rules say that every Board member must be a parent of a current Hogwarts student, also him- or herself a former Hogwarts student, right? Hm.”

“The second part is not a rule, it is a custom. Nothing stops a Board member from being a Hogwarts parent and a former Beauxbatons student, but no such person has ever served as a Board member.”

Then a bold idea hit Minerva’s brain. “What about the parent being a knowledgeable Muggle? Roughly one quarter of our students are Muggle-born, but so far as I know, they’ve never had a parent on the Board.”

“The Founders’ rule doesn’t prevent such a thing. The Muggle parent would need to have a house-elf always on call, to take the nonmagical Board member to the school and home again; and he or she would need some way to be unaffected by the Muggle-repelling wards on the castle.”

“This is doable, I think. You want Muggle-parent names?” Minerva remembered hearing it mentioned that replacement Board members always were chosen from the parents of first- or second-year students. “The father of Justin Fitch-Fletchley impressed me—he’s a Muggle aristocrat, so I’m sure he can understand the Purebloods. Both parents of Hermione Granger are well-read and curious, almost as much as their amazing daughter.” Minerva then mentioned several second-year Muggle-born students whose parents had impressed her.

After the discussion ended and the Spirit of Hogwarts vanished, Minerva thought sadly, If the new Board takes a hard look at how Hogwarts has been run, they will be keenly disappointed in Albus. They also will be keenly disappointed in me, for being Albus’s lapdog for so long. It’s quite possible I’ll be sacked soon.

****

That afternoon, in the Gryffindor common room

Hermione, after she had written her parents about her new friendship with Lavender and Parvati, had asked her parents to owl her a Muggle mail-order catalogue of teen-girl clothing. This Friday morning at breakfast, the catalogue had arrived, displaying Spring 1992 clothes.

Alas, Hermione, Lavender and Parvati could not give the catalogue a proper look during breakfast. So after double Potions and lunch, the three firstie girls gathered in the Gryffindor common room to take an in-depth look at clothing on offer for Muggle teen girls.

Apparently both Muggle teen girls and teen witches had the same rules about coordinating colours. Some of the lectures, which Lavender and Parvati had given Hermione eight days ago in the “troll lavatory,” about which colours matched, now could be illustrated.

On the other hand, Lavender and Parvati were scandalised by the photographs in the catalogue; at first, Hermione could not figure out why. The clothes on offer for teen girls were bright and they fit well, but they were not obscene. (Although a few of the outfits might make British Muggle mothers frown.) Then Hermione figured out the cultural problem: The girls in the catalogue showed skin—knees, lower legs and feet; arms; throats (and a hint of skin below the throats); midriffs; shoulders; and parts of the back. To hear Lavender and Parvati tell it, Hermione’s parents had sent her a catalogue for scarlet women. Hermione had to explain—tactfully—that what British witches considered to be the rules for skin, Muggle women had rubbished by 1920.

The catalogue’s shoes puzzled Lavender and Parvati. The catalogue did not sell women’s shoes; but when a photograph displayed a skirt, a dress or trousers, it would not do for the girl wearing that clothing to be shown barefoot. In the wizarding world, the only rule for witches about shoes, since shoes normally were covered up by robes, was “The colour of the shoes must match the colour of the robes.” But in Hermione’s catalogue, the models were wearing a dazzling variety of shoes. Alas, Hermione could not tell her witch friends what the fashion-rules were for why certain shoes were shown with certain outfits.

Lavender and Parvati helped Hermione order clothes from the catalogue (which Hermione’s parents would pay for). The witches begged Hermione to ask her mother to send her a shoe catalogue. Lavender and Parvati did not explain why, but Hermione suspected that her friends wanted to buy their own Muggle clothes by mail, head to toe.

As Hermione filled out the order form—with a Biro pen, not with a quill!—she thought, I wonder what Draco would think if he saw Lavender and Parvati wearing Muggle clothes?

****

Just before dinner, Lavender offered to read Hermione’s palm. Hermione was conflicted—all of her pre-Hogwarts life had taught her that palm-readers were frauds; but Lavender was proven to have some kind of Seer magic. So Hermione reluctantly gave Lavender her hand.

Lavender told Hermione that Hermione had had a cat she had loved that was now dead, and she still mourned the cat. Hermione was startled to hear this; she was sure that she never had mentioned Regina to anyone at Hogwarts—Regina, who had been run over by a car when Hermione had been nine.

****

That evening, 5 p.m.
The Great Hall, Hogwarts

Harry was eating at the Gryffindor table with his friends (Hermione, Lavender, Parvati and Neville). About ten feet away, Ron, when he was not himself eating as though food were about to be outlawed, was feeding chunks of sausage to the rat in his pocket.

None of Harry’s new girl friends spoke to Ron or even looked at him, except to shoot Scabbers disgusted looks. Only Neville was polite to Ron.

Harry still played a bit of chess with Ron in the common room: one game a day. Otherwise, the Harry-Ron friendship was dead, and Harry did not miss it. Three firstie girls and Neville had shown Harry that he could do better than Ron when it came to friendships.

Whilst Harry was thinking about his dead friendship with Ron, the double doors from the Entrance Hall opened with a bang. A man and two women entered.

Harry recognised the man as Sirius Black. Black had black hair, grey eyes and a 1970s moustache. Sirius Black’s face was thin, but he was wearing expensive black robes with some sort of family crest on the left breast.

Harry did not recognise the crest, but he heard someone in the Great Hall ask, “We have a new Lord Black now?”

Harry immediately recognised one of the women as Amelia Bones. But now Director Bones did not look like she wanted to arrest someone. Instead, her head turned to look at the Hufflepuff firsties. Smiling Amelia Bones locked eyes with smiling Susan Bones, and the aunt made a two-handed Stay there gesture towards the niece.

Harry did not recognise the second woman, who was a blonde in her thirties.

But clearly someone else recognised her. At the Slytherin table, Draco climbed over his piece of bench as fast as his legs could move. Once Draco was standing in the Slytherin-Hufflepuff aisle, he spun to face the blonde and asked, in an anguished voice—

“Mother, why isn’t Father with you?”

Sirius Black looked over at frightened Draco, then looked at Harry. Sirius sighed as he again looked at the blond boy. “Draco,” Sirius said solemnly, “your mother brings bad news. Which maybe I can fix, a bit.”

“Oi!” Ron suddenly yelled. “Scabbers, bloody hell!”

Whilst Ron was speaking, Scabbers scrambled out of Ron’s pocket. The rat landed on the redhead’s mashed potatoes. Scabbers ran off the plate, ran to the edge of the table, and jumped off.

Chapter Text

Still Friday, 8th November, dinnertime
Still in the Great Hall

Sirius Black looked over at frightened Draco, then looked at Harry. Sirius sighed as he again looked at the blond boy. “Draco,” Sirius said solemnly, “your mother brings bad news. Which maybe I can fix, a bit.”

“Oi!” Ron suddenly yelled. “Scabbers, bloody hell!”

Scabbers scrambled out of Ron’s pocket, landing on the redhead’s mashed potatoes. The rat ran off the plate, ran to the edge of the table and jumped off.

Scabbers squeaked; to Harry, the rat sounded as though it were in pain. For two seconds, Scabbers was in the same place on the floor, unmoving. Is he dead? Harry wondered.

Then the rat ran towards the wall. At the wall, Scabbers turned to move toward the Entrance Hall doors. The rat ran with a speed that surprised Harry, all the while with the wall brushing against one side of the rat’s body.

“Bugger!” Sirius exclaimed. “It’s Peter!”

Harry wondered, Who’s Peter?

Sirius pulled his wand out from somewhere on his forearm, and tried to shoot a silent red spell at the fast rat. Sirius missed.

Neither Amelia Bones nor Draco’s mother missed.

“Homorphus animagi,” Amelia incanted, hitting the unmoving rat with a spell. The rat turned into an unconscious man.

Harry heard gasps from all over the Great Hall.

Hermione snarled, “Your rat is a man, Ronald. Did you know?”

“Bloody hell, no!”

Draco’s mother said calmly to Sirius, “Is this the man you supposedly murdered ten years ago? Corpses don’t breathe.”

Sirius grinned. “Yes, this is Peter Pettigrew. Nine-fingered Peter Pettigrew. It occurs to me that, since I’ve already been tried for his murder, it’s legal for me to kill him for real.”

The blond woman said, “You do that—if you want to spend your entire relationship with Amelia sleeping on her sofa.”

Amelia had been talking to her badge. Now she looked up and announced, “I’ve summoned Aurors. I ordered them to put Pettigrew in the animagus-suppression holding cell. I’ll wait for them to come.”

****

Sirius, Amelia and the blond woman did not move away from the doors, nor did they put away their wands, till Aurors had entered the Great Hall and had hauled-off Peter Pettigrew.

Then Sirius looked at the women with him. He asked, “Shall we do what we came here to do?”

****

Meanwhile, in Azkaban Wizard Prison

Albus, in his prison cell in Azkaban, still was trying to figure out How did I wind up here? He still had not figured out an answer to this question.

Before his trial earlier today, Albus had made a plan. He was a Pureblood, so he was entitled to refuse Veritaserum when he was questioned. So the first part of Albus’s plan had been to refuse the truth potion, giving some grand excuse. Then, once the questioning started (with Albus not potioned by Veritaserum), Albus would lie, when he could not be caught in a lie; he would exaggerate at times and would understate the truth at other times; he would tell half-truths; he would evade; and he would mislead. By the time that the Acting Chief Warlock called for the vote on Albus’s guilt or innocence, Albus would have convinced the entire courtroom that yes, he technically had broken a law, but Albus Dumbledore was the only person in Wizarding Britain who was protecting the average witch or wizard from evil Lord Voldemort.

Anyway, this had been the plan, before the trial. But during the trial? Saul had dropped some object in Albus’s lap just after Albus had been captured by the chains-chair. Whatever the object was, it was not important enough for Albus to remember clearly.

What was more important was that when Saul started asking questions to Albus, it seemed natural to answer with the simple truth, and to answer completely; and it never occurred to Albus to lie or to tell only part of the truth.

After a time, Saul took the absolutely-unimportant object away, then Acting Chief Warlock Greengrass called for the vote. Albus suddenly was aware that everyone in the courtroom was glaring at him—which obviously meant that everyone had felt an attack of indigestion at the same time. There could be no other explanation—after all, Albus had been beloved by Wizarding Britain for the past fifty years.

But Albus had been wrong about the cause of everyone’s glares. The Wizengamot had convicted him! What’s more, the seat-holders not only had given Albus the maximum sentence for his crime, which was five years in Azkaban, but the Wizengamot had given him the worst form of this sentence: maximum security. Which was a polite way of saying: lots and lots of Dementors close by.

Now in his cell, Albus already had relived the death of his sister Ariana, which was a truly awful experience—but the Dementors had caught Albus during a moment of inattention. From this moment on, Albus resolved, he would put his high skill at Occlumency to the task of keeping his mind calm, and he would show the Dementors who was the master.

But not everything about Albus’s prison sentence was unbearable. When Albus would be released in five years, on 8th November 1996, Harry would still be a student at Hogwarts—and much more importantly, Harry would be nine months away from becoming an adult under Wizarding Britain law. Albus, after his release, would have nine months to again sink his hooks into Harry before the boy could legally disobey the old wizard.

This was Albus’s new plan: After 1 826 days of thwarting Dementors, Albus would be out of Azkaban, back at Hogwarts and back in Harry’s life.

****

Back in the Great Hall

Sirius looked at Amelia and at Draco’s mother. He asked, “Shall we do what we came here to do?”

Harry heard Amelia say cheerfully, “Let me take care of business first, then you two can take care of the serious stuff.”

Amelia led Sirius to the firsties-end of the Hufflepuff table. Smiling Susan Bones climbed over her bench and stood to face the adults. Amelia and Sirius were wearing happy smiles; Draco’s mother was hanging back whilst wearing a plastic smile.

Amelia made introductions, too lowly for Harry to hear. As Sirius bowed, Susan curtseyed, then she put her hand out, palm down. Sirius bent down and kissed her hand, as solemnly as if one of them were being knighted.

At the Gryffindor table, Hermione commented, “I’m surprised she isn’t giggling. She’s eleven years old and he’s kissing her hand.”

“Hermione,” Neville said seriously, “if she giggled now, he could kill her.”

“What?”

“You see an eleven-year-old girl; I see Heiress Bones, who is being introduced to the Head of House Black. If she giggled, he could take it as an insult, and kill her.”

Hermione choked. “In front of hundreds of children? With Susan’s aunt, who is also the Director of the DMLE, standing three feet away?”

“Yes, Hermione. If he said, ‘The Heiress Bones has given me insult,’ he then could kill her and it would be legal.”

“Oh my,” Hermione said lowly.

Now the three adults were walking towards the firsties’ part of the Gryffindor table. Amelia was pointing out Harry to the other two.

The three adults stopped close to the table. Amelia gestured for Harry to stand (which was awkward for him to do when sitting on a several-hundred-feet-long bench).

Amelia then said, “Lord Sirius Black, Miss Narcissa Black, this is Lord Black’s godson, and the orphaned son of James and Lily Potter, Harry Potter, who is Heir Potter. He’s also known as ‘the Boy Who Lived,’ but he hates this title. Heir Potter, this is your godfather, and one of your father’s closest friends, Sirius Black, who is Head of House Black. Heir Potter, this woman with me is Miss Narcissa Black, the mother of Draco Malfoy.”

Harry bowed to his godfather. Harry said, “I feel like I should be calling you ... Pafoo?”

Sirius laughed in delight. “The name was ‘Padfoot,” but when you were one year old, you couldn’t quite say it.”

Up the Gryffindor table, twin male voices said, “Padfoot?”

Sirius looked at the Weasley twins. “You’ve heard of me?”

One of the twins, grinning, said, “We have something you made—”

“—and we’ve managed much mischief with it,” said the other twin.

Harry said to Sirius, “Those are Fred and George Weasley. Don’t ask me which is which. They’re the pranksters of the school.”

Sirius grinned maniacally. “Delightful! Owl me, you two. Let’s give Minnie fits.”

“Yes!” the twins said, as they both fist-pumped.

(At the High Table, Headmistress McGonagall facepalmed.)

Harry noticed that Draco’s mother Narcissa Black was looking at him strangely.

Neville said, “Erm, Harry? You need to walk up to Lady M—to Miss Black and to kiss her hand.”

Harry, feeling like the eyes of everyone in the school were on him, walked round the end of the table and stood in front of the blond woman.

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Black,” Harry said, then bent to kiss the woman’s held-out hand. Harry straightened, then walked back to his part of the bench.

“Ma’am?” Neville said nervously, looking at Draco’s mother. “Why did Regent Bones introduce you as ‘Miss Narcissa Black’ instead of as ‘Lady Narcissa Malfoy’?”

Narcissa, Draco’s mother, looked uncomfortable as she answered, “This is part of what we came here to discuss with Draco.”

Then she looked at Sirius and said, “Lord Black, we really need to have soon, the discussion with Draco that we came for.”

Sirius said, “We will, we will, but first I want to meet Harry’s friends.”

Amelia laughed. “Siri, am I right that you’re procrastinating at talking with Draco?”

Sirius said, with exaggerated innocence, “I’m just curious about the young lady who is sitting next to Harry and who is marked as a House Potter protectée. I’m sure she has an interesting story.”

Harry said, “If you lot need to rush off, let me make quick introductions. First is Neville Longbottom, who is—Neville, are you a ‘Scion Longbottom’ or an ‘Heir Longbottom’?”

Neville stood up, then bowed to Sirius Black. “Lord Black, I am Neville Longbottom, who is Heir Longbottom.”

Sirius, choked up, replied, “Heir Longbottom, I knew your parents, Frank and Alice. They were good people.”

Neville looked stunned.

Harry then introduced Lavender and Parvati; “Parvati Patil has a twin sister, Padma, who is sitting at the Ravenclaw table.”

Each of the two introduced girls stood and curtsied to Sirius Black as he bowed to them. Sirius walked over to where each girl was standing and kissed her hand; neither girl giggled.

Then Harry introduced his protectée, Hermione Granger, “who is Muggle-born, like my mum, and a genius, like my mum. When a twelve-foot troll attacked Lavender, Parvati and Hermione, Hermione figured out how they could cast a combined Wingardium leviosa to knock out the troll with its own club.”

As Hermione stood and curtsied, Parvati said to Sirius, “Yes, we three witches knocked out the troll, but Harry killed it. Be proud of your godson, Lord Black—he’s a true Gryffindor.”

As Sirius kissed the hand of giggle-less Hermione, Narcissa said to Harry, in a tone of voice that Harry could not read, “I’m curious how a first-year student can kill a troll, when trolls are immune to most forms of magic.”

“That’s because I didn’t use magic,” Harry said. Briefly he told the tale, ending with “...then when the troll’s face hit the floor, my wand got shoved farther up its nose, and this killed it.”

Harry was surprised to hear applause, not only from the Gryffindor table, but also from the Ravenclaws.

Harry ended the story with “My wand wound up covered with troll bogies. Professor Snape had to clean them off.”

Harry heard Eww from two tables.

Narcissa said, “Heir Potter, you were a true Gryffindor that day. Please believe me, this is one of the few times I use the word as a compliment.”

Harry, who was blushing from the unexpected and sincere compliment, barely noticed when mail-owls arrived, carrying letters and copies of the Daily Prophet. Harry could not help but notice that one owl was carrying a black envelope. What does a black envelope mean? Harry wondered.

The black-envelope owl flew straight to the first-years part of the Slytherin table. Seconds later, a Slytherin firstie screamed “NOOOO!”

Narcissa immediately ran off for the Slytherin table. Sirius gave Harry an apologetic smile, said to Harry’s friends, “Nice to meet you,” then he hurried after Narcissa.

Amelia called out after Sirius and Narcissa, “I’ll be sitting with Susan, if either of you need me.” Then she said, “Good to see you again, Heir Potter, Miss Granger,” before she walked away from the Gryffindor table.

****

A minute later, amongst the first-year Slytherins

Lord Black was sitting amongst the green-robed children, but was staying silent. These green-robed children all were looking at Narcissa—presumably because Narcissa was Draco’s mother, but also because Narcissa was a former Slytherin, unlike Lord Black.

“Miss Black, please explain this story, ‘Lucius Malfoy Gets Veil for Murders,’ ” a child-witch said as she pointed to the Daily Prophet headline. Narcissa saw that the black-haired girl had Opal Bulstrode’s beauty; which meant that the intelligence in her blue eyes came from Cyrus Greengrass.

Narcissa replied, “One thing this means is that, because of a law that is older than the Treaty of Separation, House M—House Mm—my late husband’s ancestral House is dissolved. Draco and I would be No-Names if not for Lord Black here.”

Draco asked, “Mother, why can’t you say Mmm?—Mmm!” The blond boy’s eyes widened in panic as he was unable to speak his own surname.

“ ‘Malfoy,’ ” the blue-eyed beauty said experimentally. “I can say it, but you two can’t. How odd.”

Lord Black said, “Because your name isn’t Malfoy, Miss...?”

The girl stood. “Lord Black, I am Daphne Greengrass, who is Heiress Greengrass.” She curtsied as Sirius bowed, then he kissed her hand.

As Heiress Greengrass sat again, she said to Narcissa, “Please explain how House Malfoy went poof today. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

Narcissa sighed. “Lucius was put on trial today for basically acting like a pompous arse in the Department of Mysteries.”

Narcissa saw Draco stiffen, but he said nothing.

Narcissa continued, “My husband tried to enter a DOM forbidden area—a minor crime that would’ve meant five years in Azkaban at most.”

Draco said, “Then how—?”

“At trial, Lucius was questioned but, somehow because he was accused of wronging the Department of Mysteries, they could question Lucius with some kind of DOM truth-magic instead of Veritaserum,” which Lucius could have refused. “Because of the truth-magic, Lucius admitted to doing whatever he was arrested for, but also admitted to murdering forty-eight Muggles and fifteen magicals, and taking the Dark Mark willingly but bribing Minister Fudge to pardon him.”

Heiress Greengrass nodded, as though she had expected this news.

Narcissa continued, “Lucius was found guilty of murdering magicals, amongst other crimes, and was tossed through the Veil. It turns out, there is a British law that was made before 1642, and it says that if the head of an aristocratic House in Britain is executed for either treason against the Crown or for murder, the House is dissolved.”

“Why?” asked a girl who looked like a young, stocky and tall version of Opal or Ruby Bulstrode.

Narcissa replied, “Our society normally figures Lucius deserves the land and the title because long ago, Lucius’s ancestor showed that he was a superior person, and this makes Lucius superior too. But if Lucius has committed murder or treason, now he shows he’s not superior at all. Nor, so the law figures, should Draco get the title or land either, because maybe the son of a murderer or traitor is a murderer or traitor too. Therefore, no more House MF. Poof.”

“Bugger-all,” said Draco. “Bollocks. Shit. This is all Potter’s fault, somehow.”

“Dragon, your public speech is unseemly,” Narcissa rebuked. “Potter wasn’t in the DOM, pointing his wand at your father and making your father try to rescue the Dark Lord. Potter didn’t make your father murder both magical people and nonmagical people. Potter didn’t make your father take the Dark Mark. Instead, your father figured that he could commit awful crimes and the Wizengamot would never find out, or he could talk his way out of punishment. Well, he was wrong, and so he, and we, pay the price today.”

“What is the price we pay, Mother?” Draco asked lowly.

“I’m now locked out of the manor’s wards; I suspect you’re locked out too. According to the goblins, the Ministry owns all property of House MF now, so you and I will need to be escorted by a Ministry employee in order to re-enter the manor. Under that old British law, you and I are entitled to take our personal possessions and our clothes, and a thousand galleons each from the MF family vault. The Ministry gets everything else, including the peacocks.”

Lord Black said, “The Black dowry that was paid to House Malfoy—the Ministry gets it too.” He shrugged. “It’s a good thing that Corny no longer is Minister—the entire dowry would be in Fudge’s vault within a week.”

Narcissa said to Draco, “You’re too young to have learnt any family magic. But when your father’s House was dissolved, all that magic that I’d learnt, I forgot in an instant.”

Heiress Greengrass said, “What about debts held by House Malfoy? Lord Goyle and Lord Crabbe both owe money to House Malfoy.”

“They did,” Narcissa replied. “But according to the goblins, all debtors now are free and clear.”

Vincent Crabbe turned to Draco and said, “Hear that? I ain’t your bodyguard no more. When you go up against Potter and the Muggle-born, you’re on your own.”

Gregory Goyle said to Draco, “I ain’t your bodyguard no more neither. And a few years from now, when Galina is a firstie, if you look at her cross-eyed, I’ll hex you till your arms fall off.” Gregory lowered his voice, but Narcissa still heard it: “I know what your pa intended for my sister when she came to Hogwarts. I’m glad he’s dead.”

Draco asked his mother, “So you and I are No-Names now? With lower status than mudbloods?”

Lord Black said irritably, “Yes, blond boy, at the moment you have lower status than all Muggle-borns. In which case, it is stupid of you to refer to them with an insulting term. Miss Hermione Granger has no blood-connexion to any old magical house, just like you now, but she isn’t related to a disgrace to the magical community, which is why she now outranks you socially.”

Draco sneered, “My father was a great wizard. Unlike you.”

“Lose the attitude, boy. Your father wasn’t a great wizard, he was a rabid dog with a bloodstained wand who hid his face behind a mask whilst he kissed Lord Voldemort’s ... toe.”

Lord Black took a deep breath, but still looked angry. He said to Narcissa, “Maybe I should hold off adopting Draco for a few months. Perhaps some time being addressed as ‘No-Name’ and treated as a No-Name will teach the brat some humility.”

Draco asked, “You want to adopt me? This means I’d become Heir Black?”

“No. Right now, my godson Harry Potter is Heir Black, and my will has stated this since 1981.”

“Shit,” Draco muttered.

****

Ten minutes later

Sirius was feeling guilt-ridden. Not about talking to Draco—this was Black Head of House business, and only Sirius could do this.

No, Sirius had walked into the Great Hall fully intending to talk to Harry before he talked to Draco, “Lord Black duty” be damned. But nooo, ten seconds inside the door, Sirius got caught up with drama concerning Pettigrew. Once again it was Pettigrew, not Harry, that had caught Sirius’s attention. Then Draco learnt that his House had been dissolved, so Sirius had to leave Harry to go do his “Lord Black duty” immediately with Draco. Shit, so far this evening, Sirius had spent not much more time talking to Harry than Sirius had spent talking to Susan Bones. Sirius felt like a shit godfather.

Now Sirius left Narcissa at the Slytherin table, and left Amelia at the Hufflepuff table, to walk to the Gryffindor table for the second time this evening. Sirius sat down near Harry, then Sirius talked to Harry and to his friends.

Sirius felt a kinship with the Weasley twins—it would have been easy to spend the evening talking only to them. But the last time that Sirius had done the easy thing instead of the right-for-Harry thing, it had cost Sirius ten years of his life.

So Sirius made himself barely speak to the Weasley twins whilst Sirius got to know James’ and Lily’s son.

The first thing Sirius learnt was that whilst James was confident and boisterous, Harry was neither of these things.

The second thing about Harry that Sirius learnt was that, despite the boy having no memories of having flown on a broom as a toddler, Harry loved broom-flying, and was on the House Quidditch team as Seeker, despite being a first-year.

The third thing that Sirius learnt was that Hermione was every bit as brainy as Lily, but unlike Harry’s mother, Hermione did not need five and a half years to decide that the bespectacled boy near her was worth her time.

The fourth, fifth, sixth, and ninety-ninth thing that Sirius learnt about his godson was that Harry was famous, but he hated being famous.

****

Later, at the end of dinner
Still in the Great Hall

Harry and friends said goodbye to Sirius. A minute later, Harry & Company were headed for the exit doors and were passing in front of the High Table, near where Hagrid was sitting.

Hagrid suddenly stood. “Harry, ’salright if I talk to ya?”

Hagrid looked ashamed.

All the Hogwarts adults who ate at the High Table, including Hagrid, sat on a dais that raised them above the students. And Hagrid was a half-giant. So now, for Harry to look at standing-Hagrid’s face, Harry had to look up, and up, and up. Some of the other Gryffindor firsties hissed in fear, but Harry thought, Hagrid is my friend.

“Here I am,” Harry said. “What’s on your mind?”

Hagrid closed his copy of the Daily Prophet, folded the newspaper, and put it on the table. Then he squared his large shoulders.

Looking at Harry, Hagrid said, “Back fifty years ago, I got meself expelled”—Hermione gasped—“fer sumpin’ I din’t do, and got me wand snapped. But Dumbledore—he was only the Deputy Headmaster then—got me a job here at the castle, ’n’ I’ve been here ever since.”

Harry did not know what to say to this. So he spoke a neutral reply: “This was a kind thing for Dumbledore to do.”

“I believed Dumbledore hung the moon, y’know? So whenever he asked me to do sumpin’, I did it, never said no. Because it was Dumbledore asking me to do things. I took ya from Sirius Black’s arms ’cause Dumbledore told me to. I brung ya to yer mum’s Muggle sister’s house ’cause Dumbledore told me to. Three months ago, Dumbledore asked me to bring the Boy who Lived to Diagon Alley. That was a right brilliant day for me.”

Harry said, “It was for me too. Especially after you gifted me with my snowy owl, Hedwig.”

“But it shouldna been me who brung ya, it shoulda been one of the Heads of House—Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout and that lot. There be lots of things that they woulda told ya, because even though yer not a Muggle-born, ya was raised like one, right? But I din’t think of that, because I knew yer parents and they were magical. Anyway, Harry, turns out that not only is I stupid, but Dumbledore planned on me being stupid round ya. I not only din’t tell ya the things that I bet Miss Granger got told, I din’t even tell ya how to get on Platform 9¾. Dumbledore wanted ya to come to Hogwarts not knowin’ nuthin’, and he used me to help make ya this way, and I am so sorry, Harry!”

Harry ran onto the dais, ran round the end of the High Table, ran up to Hagrid and gave Hagrid a hug. Harry did this even though he did not like anyone but Hermione touching him.

Snape sneered as Harry hugged Hagrid, but Harry ignored this.

****

Meanwhile in Azkaban Prison

A sneering Auror, one of the prison’s human guards, shoved a Daily Prophet through the bars of Albus’s cell. “Here you go, ‘Leader of the Light,’ a free copy of the newspaper for you to read. Since you no longer can afford to buy a copy.”

Albus at first could not figure out what the Auror meant. The lead story in the newspaper was about Lucius Malfoy being executed for multiple murders—alas, before he could be redeemed.

On page 2, Albus’s testimony was given, in full. Oddly, Albus had not been even slightly alarmed when he had spoken in court, but he was alarmed now—because he himself had spoken his most hoarded secrets!

But after this news story, the Daily Prophet printed a related news story. The goblins had issued a press release after Albus’s trial and conviction—

“When Harry James Potter became orphaned in 1981, Albus Percival Dumbledore suppressed the child’s parents’ wills, then Dumbledore persuaded the Wizengamot to declare him to be young Potter’s magical guardian. This gave Dumbledore access to young Potter’s trust vault. Over a ten-year period, Dumbledore stole G499 990 from this trust vault, with young Potter unsuspecting.

“Today this money has been recovered from Dumbledore’s vaults and has been transferred to Harry Potter’s family vault. Also taken from Dumbledore’s vaults: a penalty amount of G99 998, which has been split equally between the Potter family vault and Gringotts.”

Dumbledore read this and scowled. So much for my easy retirement!

****

Hours later
In the Gryffindor first-year boys’ dormitory, at bedtime

Harry discovered on his nightstand, a note, a strange-looking wand that had bumps on it and a silvery cloak.

When Harry picked up the wand, he felt a rush of magical power, the magical equivalent of grabbing a live wire. At the same time, knowledge and memories hit his brain: Harry saw Albus Dumbledore cast mind-magic spells on every professor at Hogwarts, on Vernon and Petunia Dursley, and on six-year-old Harry himself.

These mind-movies made Harry angry. If Dumbledore had been standing in front of Harry right then, Harry would have hexed the bearded old meddler painfully—and now, thanks to the bumpy wand (the “Elder Wand,” Harry now knew to call it), Harry knew how to cast painful hexes.

Harry picked up the note that had been left for him—

“Albus Dumbledore looted this special wand from its owner. Dumbledore tricked your father into giving up this Invisibility Cloak, which is a Potter heirloom. This Cloak, unlike all others of its kind, is centuries old; and cannot be tracked, detected or summoned unless foreign threads are sewn into it. We gift this Wand to you and return your family-heirloom Cloak to you. (signed) the Three Fates.”

Harry stored both the Elder Wand and the Cloak in his trunk, then went to bed. He was tired; it had been an emotional day, meeting his freed godfather.

****

Meanwhile, in the DOM in Saul Croaker’s office

On the desk of the Director of the Department of Mysteries, appeared an unfolded note—

“Dear Saul, remember the Elder Wand in Misc Exp Room 23, which you were hoping to reverse-engineer? It would be apocalyptic for the magical world if you succeeded at duplicating the Elder Wand, so we stole the Wand before you barely got started at examining it. We gave the Wand to a mortal wizard whom we trust and you trust. Saul Rowenus Croaker, don’t go looking for the Elder Wand or try to craft a second Elder Wand, lest you anger us. (signed) the Three Fates.”

****

Hours later, in Azkaban prison
During Dumbledore’s first night in Azkaban

It was nearly impossible to sleep with Dementors so close, but eventually exhausted Albus slept.

He dreamt. He was in a room in which a young woman of only eighteen or nineteen years old sat on a stool. With her left hand, she took wool from the distaff that she held in place with her left arm, and fed the wool to the spindle that dangled from her right hand. The spindle was spun clockwise by her right hand when necessary, and she alternated between twisting the wool into grey thread and gathering the grey thread onto the shaft of the spindle, by using or avoiding a hook at the top of the spindle. When the current spindle became full of grey thread, the young woman set this spindle aside and picked up an empty spindle; when the distaff became empty of wool, suddenly the distaff became full and fluffy again.

A middle-aged woman took the end of the thread that was on a spindle and touched the eye of a needle to the end of the thread; instantly the thread was sticking-charmed to the end of the needle. Then the middle-aged woman walked over to a gigantic tapestry that contained threads of every colour imaginable. The middle-aged woman moved the needle over and under the threads of the tapestry; behind the needle, the grey thread was pulled along.

A crone, who held scissors, watched the weaver-woman work. At some point, the old woman said to the middle-aged woman, “Stop now.” The old woman, by touching the needle with her free hand, unstuck the head of the thread from the rear of the needle, so that the weaver-woman could reuse the needle. Then the crone cut the thread where it entered the tapestry. Next, the crone touched the tiny part of the grey thread that stuck out of the tapestry. The entire grey thread that was the newest part of the tapestry, now turned smoky orange. Albus noticed that this exact colour of orange appeared nowhere else in the gigantic tapestry.

What else was strange for Albus: the woman-child spinner, the middle-aged weaver, and the crone thread-cutter, all were the same black-haired woman except for age.

“Daughters,” said the crone, “we have a guest: Albus Dumbledore, who has hubris enough to herd a prophecy.”

The young woman turned round on her stool to face Albus, whilst she still spun thread, two-handed. “Do you know why you were chosen to hear the prophecy, mortal wizard? To smooth the way for the Chosen One. To organise the world’s best tuition and the world’s best training for him, so that when he faced the Dark Lord, the Chosen One’s victory would be absurdly easy. Nobody alive could have prepared the Chosen One better than you.”

Now it was the middle-aged weaver-woman who spoke; she continued her needle-work, even as she spoke over her shoulder: “Had you done these things, your reward would have been great.”

The crone gestured with her free hand, and a table appeared in front of Albus. On the table was a copy of Hogwarts: A History, but Albus did not recognise the cover. He realised: I’m seeing a future edition.

The book on the table opened itself, then an invisible hand flipped pages. Soon the book lay open to a two-page article, “Albus Dumbledore: The Greatest Headmaster after the Founders?”

In a corner of the left-hand page was a photograph of a white-marble tomb, looking just like how Albus always had imagined his tomb to look. In the photograph, the Black Lake was nearby in the background. On the top of the tomb was written, in gold letters—

Albus P W B Dumbledore

Defeater of the Dark Lord Grindelwald

Mentor to Harry Potter, Defeater of the Dark Lord Voldemort

The crone said, “Had you followed the prophecy as it was meant, then hundreds of years from now, ‘Albus’ still would be a popular name given to newborn wizards.”

Albus (the here-and-now version) smiled.

The crone shook her head. “But you haven’t used your foreknowledge from the prophecy to guide Harry Potter to great deeds, have you? Instead, you’ve undermined the Chosen One at every turn, beginning in the minutes after his parents’ deaths, so that he’d fail, he’d die, and you would defeat the Dark Lord and be given even more fame and glory. Ah, but your undermining all was done in such a way that the letter of the prophecy would be fulfilled. Aren’t you clever.”

Albus said, “But Harry must die. Tom has made horcruxes, one of which is in Harry’s scar. Until all the horcruxes are destroyed, Tom cannot be vanquished.”

The young spinner laughed. “Today the horcrux in the scar is dead, whilst Harry is quite alive. But you didn’t even try to solve this particular problem, did you? Because if Harry Potter vanquished the Dark Lord without any sort of ‘noble sacrifice,’ you might become a has-been, right? Anathema!”

Albus said, “I’ve heard nothing about Harry’s horcrux being removed, or that such a thing is possible. How was this done? Is all of the horcrux truly removed?”

The middle-aged weaver-woman replied, “Mortal wizard, you don’t deserve to know how the horcrux was removed, so we won’t tell you how. Just as we know the contents of Hermione Granger’s prophecy, but we refuse to tell you this as well—beyond that the prophecy predicted the futures if Hermione Granger married either of two men.”

Albus was puzzled. “Why would whom Miss Granger marries, be the subject of a prophecy?” Then his eyes widened as an answer occurred to him. “The prophecy talks about Miss Granger marrying Harry? I refuse to accept this! Harry, if he outlives Tom, must marry a Pureblood girl from a Light family. Harry is too important to Wizarding Britain to indulge himself with a witch who will birth him children who are three-quarters Muggle-born. As soon as I am out of prison, I shall guide Harry in the right direction—luckily, I will still have nine months before Harry turns seventeen.”

The young-woman spinner laughed at him. “Don’t you know that no prophecy can be thwarted? But fine, suppose you could persuade Harry Potter to marry Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Luna Lovegood, Padma Patil, Parvati Patil or some other Light witch. What about Hermione Granger, whom should she marry?”

“Simple, Mr Ronald Weasley. He needs a wife like Miss Granger, especially as few witches who are not Muggle-borns would marry him. Slip her a potion or two, and she will even enjoy such a life.”

All three women laughed scornfully at Albus then; he could not figure out why.

Then the crone said, “You presume a lot, don’t you? ‘As soon as I am out of prison, I shall guide Harry in the right direction.’ Remember the fine fate we showed you, if you’d done right by Harry Potter? You didn’t do your part, so we’ve changed your fate.”

All three women smiled cruelly at Albus.

The middle-aged weaver-woman said, “You live for attention, you live for adoration, you live for praise from the crowd and you live for wizards and witches scurrying to carry out your ‘suggestions.’ Those days are over. From this day forwards, you will be ignored or even shunned. If anyone pays attention to you, the only result will be he hurting you with words, spells or fists. Nobody will ask for your counsel, and nobody will heed your counsel if you offer it unasked. You will suggest things, you will ask for things, you will demand things, and you will insist on things, but the results will be the same: the word no, every time. Your funeral will be a cheap one; and if your brother Aberforth does not outlive you, nobody will attend your funeral. Your portrait will never hang in the Hogwarts headmaster’s office.”

Chapter Text

The next morning (Saturday, 9th November)
Gringotts

After breakfast, Sirius met Harry in the Great Hall. After a bit of walking and some Side-Along Apparition (which Harry could have done without), the man and the boy entered Gringotts. Soon after this, Harry and Sirius entered a Gringotts room with stone walls and comfortable chairs.

Harry was in this particular room for the official reading of James Potter’s and Lily Potter’s wills—ten years and nine days after Harry’s parents had died.

Frank and Alice Longbottom were in Saint Mungo’s—Still, after ten years?—and Neville was not yet a legal adult, so Frank and Alice Longbottom were represented at the wills-reading by Augusta Longbottom, who was Neville’s “Gran.” The old woman, Harry noticed, did not smile even once.

Amelia Bones walked into the room, greeted everyone already there—and sat down next to Sirius, on the other side of Sirius from Harry. For the most part, when Sirius and Amelia were not speaking to Harry, they were speaking to each other.

A woebegone man of Sirius’s age, with scars on his face, entered and looked about. Immediately he walked up to Sirius and spoke briefly. Harry could not make sense of the words that Sirius and the man were saying, but he clearly picked up their tones of voice—

Sirius was angry with the sad, scarred man, who was deeply apologetic for something. The sad man walked away and took a seat in the far corner of the room.

The Potter wills were read aloud, officially, by a goblin in a grey pinstripe suit. Since Harry had already read the wills unofficially, there were no surprises for him. The scarred man, however, gasped when the two wills each described Sirius Black as Harry’s “oath-sworn godfather.”

James Potter’s will bequeathed G42 000-G56 000 to buy fourteen new training brooms, which were to be donated to Hogwarts “because the brooms are crap that the firsties learn to fly on.”

Harry thought, Neville certainly would agree with that.

After the wills were read, the scarred man walked up to Harry and introduced himself. “My name is Remus Lupin, Harry, and I was a friend of both your parents. I often visited your house before James and Lily—anyway, my name amongst my friends was ‘Moony,’ which you said as Mooey.”

Harry looked at him coldly. “When I was with the Dursleys, my life was truly awful. They would have backed off on their shit if just one magical person had looked in on me from time to time. You and Sirius and Amelia all tell me you were friends with my parents, but when I got bones broken and I was starved, none of you were there!”

Lupin stared. “Wait, you said ‘Dursleys’? As in ‘Vernon and Petunia Dursley’? You grew up with Lily’s sister?”

“Yeah, whilst someone named Andromeda Black Tonks wanted to raise me. But no, the great Dumbledore decided, despite the wills that you just heard read, that I should be put with the Dursleys.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lupin said, looking even more sad. “I didn’t know where you were, the headmaster wouldn’t tell me, and he implied that it would be better for you if you weren’t exposed to someone with my condition.”

Harry shook his head. “What ‘condition’? Do you have leprosy? Do you turn into a muscular green giant with a nasty temper when someone kicks you in the shin?”

“No, but you’re close,” Lupin replied. He said no more.

Sirius and Amelia by now were standing in front of Harry. Sirius said, “Remus is a werewolf, Harry. He turns into a rampaging beast during the full moon, unless he drinks a special potion.”

Harry said to Lupin, “I’m not bothered by you being a werewolf. What I am bothered by is that you avoided me for ten years because of the words of a school headmaster, before I came to his school, instead of doing the right thing by your friends’ son. What House were you in? As timid as you were, and apparently still are, I’m guessing Slytherin. You sure as hell weren’t in Gryffindor, the House of the brave, or in Hufflepuff, the House of the loyal.”

Lupin glared. “I was in Gryffindor, Harry, the same as Sirius and your parents. I eventually made prefect.”

“Impossible. Tell you what, Mr Werewolf Lupin. You didn’t visit me or write to me before I came to Hogwarts, and you haven’t visited me or written to me in the two months since I came to Hogwarts, so how about we continue with that? I sure as hell don’t want near me, someone who listens to what Dumbledore says, when Dumbledore stole half a million galleons from my trust vault and he put me with child abusers!”

After a pause, Lupin said, “I guess it’s time for me to go.”

“Yes it is,” Harry replied.

****

After Harry, Sirius and Amelia left the wills-reading room, Sirius said goodbye to Amelia—they kissed—then Amelia walked up to Harry. Instead of the polite Goodbye Harry was expecting, Amelia held up her hand to his forehead and asked him, “May I?”

“Sure,” he said, unable to guess what she intended.

She brushed his hair aside, then she grinned at him. “Your famous scar, that had its horcrux removed a week ago? The scar is fading.”

Harry grinned back. He hated that scar.

****

11 o’clock, at the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch

Sirius was sitting in the stands, along with Harry’s friends, when Harry played his first-ever Quidditch game. Against Slytherin.

Harry got jostled a lot, “accidentally,” by older Slytherins on brooms, but nobody succeeded at knocking Harry off his broom—or succeeded at getting Harry much worried about being knocked off his broom.

The game ended with Harry catching the Snitch—in his mouth. And Harry’s friends and his godfather saw it all!

Harry drank one butterbeer in the Gryffindor common room with a mob of happy Lions, then Sirius whisked Harry back to Gringotts—or rather, Sirius intended to whisk Harry to Gringotts.

****

Just outside the Gryffindor portrait-hole

When Sirius and Harry stepped out into the corridor, they found Director Croaker waiting for them. Croaker was holding a rolled-up parchment that had enough layers that Sirius suspected that the parchment was ten feet long when unrolled.

Croaker asked Harry, “Mr Potter, may I have a moment of your time to ask a quick question?”

Harry shrugged. “Sure.”

Croaker conjured a table in the corridor, and unrolled the parchment just enough for Sirius to read the top two lines—

Sssssssss sss Ssss Ssss

by Unspeakable 99

Sirius asked Croaker, “Is this some sort of secret code you want Harry to break?”

Harry said, “I don’t see any secret code. Looks pretty simple to me.” Harry then read aloud what was printed on the parchment, complete with Harry hissing the first part.

Croaker said, “Mr Potter, would you look into my eyes and repeat what you just said?”

Harry shrugged. “ ‘Analysing the Dark Mark’ by Unspeakable 99.”

“What the hell?” Sirius blurted. “That’s not at all what the first line says!”

Croaker replied, “The first line does say this—in Parseltext. Which you and I cannot read, Lord Black, but Mr Potter can read.”

Sirius asked Croaker suspiciously, “How did you know Harry could do this?”

Croaker replied, “I didn’t know, but I suspected.”

Croaker laid the tip of his red wand on the parchment, and “by Unspeakable 99” was changed to “by Lily Marie Potter.”

“Whoa,” Harry said.

Croaker looked at Harry and asked, “Would you believe that for two years your mother was not only an Unspeakable, but was the DOM’s resident expert on Parsel magic?”

Sirius blurted, “Sweet Lily Evans, the Muggle-born Gryffindor princess, could speak to snakes?”

****

Back in Gringotts, after talking with Croaker

Sirius had told Headmistress McGonagall that Harry would be gone all weekend. Now Sirius walked with Harry to a different part of Gringotts than where they had been, earlier this morning: the goblin hospital.

Harry was admitted to the goblin hospital in order to get his poorly healed bones vanished and regrown, and for the three bindings on his magical core to be removed. Recovery would take thirty-six hours.

Harry was put in a special room, with a rectangular ring of runes on the floor surrounding his bed. Harry was told that right when his bindings were removed, and at odd times soon afterwards, he would have spurts of accidental magic; the runes were there to create magical walls that would absorb the accidental magic.

Vanishing Harry’s bones (in sections) did not hurt, but felt strange to him.

Having many bones grow from nothing, inside Harry’s body, felt strange in a different way. The process was not painful, but Harry felt all those bones regrowing, in a way he could not describe.

****

The rest of the weekend

Harry, with Sirius’s help, was visited in his hospital room by Hermione, Lavender, the Patil twins, Neville, the Weasley twins and Susan Bones.

Hermione got into an excited discussion with a goblin healer about goblin customs. Hermione wound up buying a goblin-published book about goblin history, etiquette and customs for five galleons. This was slightly more than a Hogwarts textbook cost; but Hermione told Harry, “It’s a bargain.” Padma Patil asked Hermione if she could borrow the book after Hermione was through reading it.

Harry was visited by Andromeda Black Tonks, who had been trying unsuccessfully for ten years to raise Harry, or at least to visit him. Harry was deeply touched that this witch had tried so hard for ten years to be family to him. Harry was pleased when Mrs Tonks mentioned that her husband was a magical lawyer.

****

Sirius visited whenever Harry’s friends and yearmates visited, since he was acting as the children’s magical chauffeur between Hogwarts and Gringotts. Once during the weekend, when Sirius came to visit Harry, he brought Amelia Bones with him; Harry noticed that when Amelia was standing near Sirius, she smiled a lot.

Amelia told Harry “an odd story”: that when she had been about to assign Master Auror Shacklebolt to escort Narcissa and Draco to Malfoy Manor, so that they could collect their clothes and personal effects, DOM Director Croaker had asked Amelia if he could send an Unspeakable with Shacklebolt. Amelia had agreed. Shacklebolt later told Amelia that once the four of them had entered Malfoy Manor, he, Narcissa and Draco had gone up the stairs, whilst the Unspeakable had walked away in a different direction—whilst holding a magic-proof box and a goblin memory-recording crystal.

Harry asked Amelia, “Do you think this is the same goblin memory-recording crystal that—?”

Amelia smiled at Harry and said, “Probably.”

Sirius, who missed the Harry-Amelia subtext, had his own memory-recording-crystal tale to tell Harry: that yesterday after his acquittal, Sirius had intended to go to the Black winter house in Dover to shower, to eat, and to change clothes. But as Sirius had been heading towards the Floos corridor, Croaker had asked Sirius if he could take an Unspeakable briefly to the other Black property in Britain, the Black London house. Croaker had given no explanation for his request, and Sirius had not expected one. Sirius had said yes.

Sirius, instead of Flooing, had Side-Along Apparated the Unspeakable to just outside the Black London house, which was under a Fidelius. The Unspeakable had brought with him a magic-proof box and, of all things, a goblin memory-recording crystal.

Sirius had brought the Unspeakable into the house. To Sirius’s embarrassment, the Black London house had been filthy after ten years of being unlived in, because the house’s only house-elf was “crazy.” Anyway, the Unspeakable had promised that if what he/she was seeking was not at the Black London house, he/she would leave in less than a minute. Instead, the Unspeakable had found what he/she had been looking for—some sort of green necklace or locket. However, when the Unspeakable had tried to put the green jewellery into the magic-proof box, Kreacher (the crazy house-elf) had attacked. Sirius had been forced to order Kreacher to stand in a corner like a bratty child, in order for the Unspeakable to complete his/her mission unharmed.

By Harry’s hospital bed, Amelia then mentioned that Malfoy Manor had three house-elves who were now on offer by the Ministry, but nobody had bought the house-elves yet.

“Why not?” Harry asked. “Aren’t house-elves considered good for a family to have?”

Amelia replied, “Those three have not been bought or bonded because Lucius Malfoy abused them, and the behaviour of abused elves is unpredictable.”

Hermione jumped on this; she all but ordered Sirius to buy one of the Malfoy house-elves, “because I’m sure you’ll be a kind master to the house-elf you bond with, Mr Black!”

Hermione reminded Sirius of Lily, and Sirius realised that Hermione was important to Harry, so Sirius agreed. He changed Hermione’s plan so that, whilst he would pay the galleons to the Ministry and he would bond with the new house-elf, Hermione should be the person to choose which Malfoy house-elf would become a Black house-elf.

****

Between one hospital visit by Sirius and Hermione, and the next visit, Hermione selected a Malfoy house-elf and Sirius bought the elf and bonded with him. This action had one unintended consequence—

Officially, Sirius was Dobby’s master, and Harry would become Dobby’s sort-of master when Harry left the goblin hospital, since Harry was part of Sirius’s family. Hermione, not being part of Sirius’s family (yet), had no right to call Dobby and to expect Dobby to answer. However, as far as the overexcited house-elf was concerned, Hermione was his rescuer, so Dobby would move mountains for “the Great Hermininny Grangy Ma’am”—official family or not.

However, Sirius told Harry with a roll of his eyes, Kreacher and Dobby did not get along. Each house-elf judged the other to be a “bad elf,” which was the worst crime of all to house-elves.

****

Sunday night/Monday morning (midnight)

The goblin healers refused to release Harry until he had spent the full thirty-six hours in recovery, so it was three hours after curfew when Sirius brought Harry back to Hogwarts and walked Harry to Gryffindor Tower. (Fortunately, Sirius had made arrangements with Headmistress McGonagall ahead of time, so Harry did not get into trouble when Argus Filch and his cat ran up.)

Since Dumbledore had been arrested and Professor McGonagall had become headmistress, which was a little over a week ago, Gryffindor had not had a Head of House. However, Sirius told Harry, he had realised that he had two residences to live in but was lonely in both of them, so he had asked “Minnie” to hire him as Gryffindor Head of House. She had agreed; she would make the announcement this evening at dinnertime.

Harry grinned cheekily and said, “That’s brilliant! But if you and the Weasley Twins blow up Gryffindor Tower, I’ll be cheesed off with all three of you.”

****

Monday, 11th November

The Hogwarts students were not alarmed to see five Unspeakables doing mysterious things in different parts of Hogwarts Castle. No student felt curious to ask the Unspeakables why one of them was carrying a magic-proof box.

At the start of dinner, Headmistress McGonagall introduced Sirius Black and announced that he would be the new Head of House Gryffindor (and would hold no other positions). Mr Black would have a suite that was just off the Gryffindor common room, so was available to Lions both day and night.

Headmistress McGonagall also announced that the curse on the DADA-professor position was gone; and she had hired a retired Auror, Alastor Moody, to be the now-permanent DADA teacher. Moody would start work tomorrow.

Amidst the polite applause in the Great Hall, Susan Bones was heard saying, “ ‘Mad-Eye’ will be teaching us Defence? We’re doomed. He makes a religion of ‘Constant vigilance!’ ”

Sirius Black, who now was sitting at the High Table, laughed. “Truer words were never spoken, Miss Bones. Students, it doesn’t matter whether you’re firsties or seventh-years, your first five minutes of your first DADA class with Moody will be a shock.”

****

The next morning (Tuesday, 12th November)
In a Department of Mysteries conference room

Croaker looked at all the other faces—or rather, at all the grey-wool masks—in the room. He asked, “What is the status on the last two horcruxes?”

Unspeakable Fourteen reported, “Director Ragnok thanks you for telling him that there was a horcrux in a Gringotts vault. He told me to tell you that the horcrux was destroyed—without destroying the gold cup to which the horcrux was attached.”

“Did Ragnok tell you how the goblins achieved this?”

“No. Nor did he tell me the name of the vault-owner whose vault held the horcruxed cup. But, Director Ragnok wanted you to know, Gringotts has dealt with the vault-owner. I suspect a jaw-dropping fine or even complete confiscation of the vault, at the least.”

Croaker grinned. “And the other horcrux, the one in the old shack?”

Unspeakable Eight reported, “We found the horcruxed item, which was the Gaunt Head of House ring. You-Know-Who had put a nasty withering curse on it if you put the ring on, then also laid a strong compulsion to do exactly that. We had to Stupefy Ninety-Four in order to stop him/her from putting on the ring. But Ninety-Four is unharmed, we got the ring, and I’ve already Veiled it.”

Croaker’s heart was beating fast now, from excitement, but his words were spoken calmly: “So including the horcrux in Harry Potter’s scar, Voldemort made six horcruxes. The goblins have destroyed two, and we’ve Veiled the other four. ‘Lord’ Voldemort a.k.a Tom Marvolo Riddle now is mortal.”

Croaker was grinning now.

He continued, “Now, let’s discuss exactly how we’re going to end Voldemort’s worthless life.”

Twenty minutes later, Croaker said, “Three”—Unspeakable Three—“go to the Hall of Prophecies and tell Twenty-Two and Sixty-Five that I have an assignment for them. Today at lunchtime, have them go to the Great Hall and fetch Harry Potter. If anyone but Harry Potter asks why, tell him or her that Harry is wanted for routine DOM business—well, as ‘routine’ as DOM business ever gets.”

Three asked, “And if Potter asks why he’s being brought here?”

“He gets told the truth: that today the prophecy will be fulfilled.”

****

AUTHOR’S NOTE: In “Harry Potter and the Angry Grim Reaper” Chapter 17, Lily discovers that she is a Parselmouth in or before her sixth year. In sixth year, Lily briefly visits the Chamber of Secrets, then leaves.

In “Narcissa Black, Lord Potter’s Concubine” Chapter 4, it is my-canon that Lily Evans is descended from a Squib son of Cobrana Gaunt Yaxley.

Chapter Text

Early that afternoon, 12:47 p.m
Still Tuesday, 12th November
In the Great Hall

The same two Unspeakables who had collected Harry and Hermione eleven days ago, were back to collect Harry again. The two Unspeakables talked as though everything was ordinary and routine.

“Do you need for me to come too?” Hermione asked.

Unspeakable Twenty-Two replied, “No, Miss Granger, you’re fine. Our ordinary and routine business with Mr Potter doesn’t concern you.”

Suddenly Lavender stood up and seized both of Harry’s hands in both of hers.

Her eyes stared into Harry’s eyes as she said, “Harry, when the time comes, you can meet the challenge.”

Lavender let go of the hands of puzzled Harry Potter, then she sat back down.

Harry remembered then that Lavender had Seer ability.

As Harry was led out of the Great Hall, he worried.

****

Five minutes later, in Croaker’s office in the DOM

Harry already was wearing the same sort of visitor’s badge that he had worn on his last visit to the Department of Mysteries, a week and a half ago. So Harry was puzzled when Croaker magically glued a second badge to Harry’s Gryffindor robes; the small badge said “DOM” in white text on a navy-blue background. Then Croaker placed the tip of his red wand to Harry’s “DOM” badge and spoke a word.

Harry started to ask, “Why do I need—?”

Croaker replied, “Where I’m taking you, without this second badge, you’d lose 99 percent of your magic whilst you’re there.”

“Thank you. If I’m going to be in the same room as Quirrell-slash-Voldemort—”

“We’ve dubbed him ‘Quirrellmort,’ ” said grinning Croaker.

“—I’d like to be able to use all of my magic.” Then Harry said, “Please tell me what to expect today.”

Croaker said, “You and I will be going into Miscellaneous Experiment Room 16 in a minute. Waiting for us there will be six Unspeakables, Quirrellmort in stasis, and a heptagram—a seven-sided pentagram—that is permanently painted on the floor in white. The heptagram has three lines that have breaks not-painted in, but white chalk can successfully connect each broken line. In the middle of the heptagram are twenty runestones, and those runestones are thirsty for magic. Today we’ll suck all the magic out of Quirrellmort and we’ll charge those twenty runestones with his magic.”

Harry stared. “Will this kill him, or will it leave him a Squib?”

“I have a plan in either case. Either way, he will die today.”

“You can’t just throw Quirrellmort in prison?”

“No. He’s too dangerous, and our government is too corrupt. If our legislature would be given the chance to vote on Voldemort’s guilt or innocence, and what his punishment would be, I truly fear that Thaddeus Nott would drop some gold in some pockets, and Voldemort would walk free.”

“It sounds like if we kill off Voldemort but we don’t kill off Thaddeus Nott, the problems will come back.”

Croaker said, “I’ve a plan for not only Voldemort but for Thaddeus Nott and the Death Eaters too. Everyone knows Malfoy and Nott were Death Eaters, but they worked the system, so that they never went to prison. Claimed they were Imperiused—hypnotised—into becoming Death Eaters. Ha! Your mother proved that for the marking ritual to work, the Dark Mark must be taken willingly. Anyway, now Thaddeus Nott has the Dark Mark on his arm. Thanks to research that your own mother did about the Dark Mark, every marked Death Eater will die today too, along with Voldemort.”

Harry stared. “How will the Death Eaters die?”

Croaker replied with a grim face: “The Dark Mark gives each Death Eater a magical connexion to Voldemort. If we drain Voldemort’s magic slowly enough, he’ll try to replace his lost magic by draining the magic of all his Death Eaters. If we need to kill him, he’ll try to replace his lost life force by draining life force from his marked minions. Either way, by the time Voldemort is dead, every marked Death Eater will be dead too. Now, shall we go to work?”

So saying, Croaker walked to the door of his office and opened it.

“What do you expect me to do there?” Harry asked.

“Nothing, hopefully. The DOM still is acting as your ‘Hand,’ so we should be able to do everything without you lifting a finger. Still, if the prophecy does require you to give Voldy the coup de grace, you’ll already be in the room.”

“Brilliant,” Harry said.

Harry did not mention that Lavender had seemed to think that Harry’s help would be needed, and had seemed to think that the problem would be bad enough that Harry would fear he would fail. Does Croaker truly think he can kill Voldemort today and everything will be a stroll on the beach?

****

Soon afterwards, in Misc Exp Room 16

The (mostly) white-painted heptagram was in a corner of the room. Within the heptagram were twenty runes-painted flat stones, each being about the size of Hermione’s hand.

Also in the room: Harry, Croaker, six other Unspeakables whose faces were covered by grey-wool masks—and Quirrell/Voldemort.

In the middle of the room, “Quirrellmort” floated about three feet off the ground. He was slowly rotating round his head and feet, like a rotisserie chicken.

The purple turban was gone from the DADA professor’s head, revealing a hideous face on the back of his head. Voldemort’s back-of-head face was, in stasis, angry. The face had red eyes, slits in the face instead of a nose, and the mouth was partly open—probably frozen in the middle of an angry word.

Quirrell’s purple robes were gathered against his kneecaps, and his loose hair pointed in the same direction as his nose; but when the possessed man rotated, neither his robes nor his hair shifted in any way. It was as though “Quirrellmort” were inside a rotating, invisible ice cube.

Round Quirrell’s wrists were handcuffs that had runes painted on them. The two handcuffs were connected by a black, cast-iron chain; the links of the chain did not shift as Quirrellmort rotated.

Harry asked Croaker, “So this is ‘in stasis’? No time is passing for Quirrellmort?”

“That’s right. He hasn’t aged a second since 2nd November. But to do what we need to do, we must bring him out of stasis. Mr Potter, please stand over there—I don’t want you anywhere near Voldemort when he time-flows again.”

****

After Harry has walked far away from Quirrellmort

The voice of a man began yelling, mid-word—

“—ere am I? What have you—Has time passed? Was I in stasis? Explain.” The voice was raspy, like Voldemort had a sore throat. But take away the raspiness, and the man’s voice—Harry had heard it before!

****

“Walk away and I will let you live,” a male voice said. Toddler-Harry did not recognize the voice.

Harry’s red-haired mother said, “Not Harry, not Harry, please, kill me, not Harry!”

The male voice, now annoyed, said, “Stand aside, you silly girl!”

“Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead! Please, have mercy!”

The annoyed male voice said, “I say for the third time: Stand aside, wandless witch. No? Avada Kedavra!”

****

Clank. Harry was brought out of his memory when one of the Unspeakables had dropped the magic-suppressing handcuffs to the floor.

From where Harry was standing, he could not see what Croaker and the other six Unspeakables were doing to Voldemort to de-magic him. However, Harry knew the exact moment the de-magic process started: when a glowing yellow rope appeared between Quirrellmort and the heptagram, the runestones inside the heptagram started to glow yellow, and when Quirrellmort screamed.

The raspy voice yelled, “What are you doing to me?”

Croaker calmly answered, “We’re draining your magic, Voldemort. To make sure you don’t interfere, all three wands that you were carrying, are out of the room.” Then Croaker’s voice turned nasty: “Also, we’re killing you, because you deserve it.”

Harry yelled, “You more than deserve it. You killed my parents!”

“Whose voice is that?” the raspy voice demanded. “Who is yelling at me? Move aside, let me see.”

Harry yelled back, “I’m Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and I’m here to watch you die.”

“Harry Potter is here?” Voldemort demanded to know.

Then Croaker’s detailed plan went bugger-all.

****

Meanwhile, in the Great Hall

Snape hissed when he felt his Dark Mark hurt. With the pain, Snape felt a trickle-drain on his magic. The drain was small; it was about what Snape would feel if he were levitating a book. But at the moment, Snape was casting no spell, so why the magic-drain? This was annoying.

****

Back in Misc Exp Room 16

“No!” Voldemort yelled. “You shall not drain me!”

Harry heard a disgusting splootch sound. Then an Unspeakable dropped limp to the floor, with his/her grey-wool mask now red with blood. From where the Unspeakable’s head had been, a runestone as big as a dinner plate zoomed across the room and slammed into a wall.

Voldemort yelled, “Accio all wands in this room.”

Now Harry could see the five surviving Unspeakables and Croaker struggling to hold on to their red wands, as Harry struggled to hold on to his own brown wand. Somehow Harry managed to outpull Voldemort’s magic, but the others in the room all lost their wands.

Croaker ordered, “Stand in front of Potter! Protect him!”

Protect me HOW? Harry wondered. After all, six red wands were on the floor at Quirrellmort’s feet, whilst the seventh red wand was in Quirrell’s hand. The Unspeakables now were doomed if they put themselves between Voldemort and Harry.

Harry thought, I don’t want any more adults to die for me!

Meanwhile, Voldemort was saying, “You lot are fools. Avada Kedavra!”

A green spell raced towards the Unspeakables and Harry. One Unspeakable dodged the green spell, but an unlucky Unspeakable did not.

Behind the line of Unspeakables, Harry had room to move left or right, so he dodged the green spell instead of letting it hit him. (Which was, ironically, a trick that Quirrell had taught Harry’s class.) Part of the green spell passed to Harry’s right and hit the wall. The wall flashed red for a second.

Then Quirrell pointed his wand at the Unspeakables (and at Harry) again.

No! Harry thought. Not more deaths!

“Ava—”

BANG! Harry Apparated to stand only inches in front of Quirrell. The Unspeakables gasped in man-and-woman-voiced horror; Harry surely was about to die.

“—da—”

Harry himself felt terror then; Quirrell’s wand was pointed at Harry (because of where Harry had sent himself), and Quirrell was possessed by Voldemort.

But then Harry remembered Lavender’s confident words: “You can meet the challenge.”

“—Ke—”

Harry relaxed then, enough to do what needed doing. Harry had two prophecies and the words of a Seer behind him. Easy-peasy.

“—dav—”

Harry used his left hand to grab Quirrell’s wand-hand; Harry’s wand in his right hand did a nonverbal (and forceful!) levitating of the red wand in Quirrell’s hand, out of Quirrell’s hand. Harry’s magic sent the red wand flying towards the Unspeakables. Quirrell, meanwhile, had started to scream.

The raspy voice demanded, “Quirrell, why are you screaming? What’s going on?”

Harry was wondering the same thing. Quirrell’s hand, where Harry was gripping it, was smoking.

Croaker yelled, “Mr Potter, punch Quirrell in the mouth!”

Harry obeyed Croaker’s order (though to reach Quirrell’s mouth with his left hand, Harry had to reach up above his head). After the punch, Quirrell screamed like he was being tortured, his mouth began to smoke, and the lower part of his face actually caved in by an inch.

“Quirrell! Tell me what’s happening!” Voldemort demanded.

“Let me show you, Mr Dark Lord,” Harry said with an evil grin. Then Harry pushed his one-time DADA professor.

Quirrell landed on his arse, and on Voldemort’s face. (“Ow!”) Quirrell’s robes that covered his chest now had two boy-sized, smoking handprints on them. Meanwhile, Quirrell was screaming nonstop.

Croaker yelled (over Quirrell’s screaming), “Mr Potter, pocket your wand. Use both hands on Quirrellmort.”

It was a strange order, but Harry trusted Croaker, so he obeyed Croaker’s command. Harry quickly discovered that whilst Harry touching Quirrellmort caused the boy no discomfort at all—beyond Ugh, I’m touching Voldemort!—Quirrell acted as though Harry’s hands were made of fire.

Harry wondered if Voldemort in back would have the same response to Harry’s touch as Quirrell in front was having. Grinning, Harry grabbed supine Quirrell’s shoulder and rolled the man over, so that Quirrell was face-down. Judging by the screaming, Quirrell found this unpleasant.

Seconds later, Harry was astride Quirrell’s back, and was face-to-ugly-face with Voldemort.

“Harry Potter!” said the ugly face. “I will kill—”

“You talk too much,” Harry said. Then he laid his hands on Voldemort’s cheeks.

Those cheeks did not smoke. Instead, Voldemort-face growled, “Whatever childish magic you are using, I am fighting. I am Lord Voldemort the Dark Lord, the most magically powerful Dark wizard ever, and I am immortal! Fear me, boy!”

Croaker laughed. “Oi, Darkie, about the ‘immortal’ part? All your soul-anchors are tracked down and destroyed. You’re mortal, mate.”

For a moment, Harry saw fear on Ugly-Face’s face. Then Voldemort snarled, “You die, Unspeakable!”

Harry said, “You say you’re magically powerful, Ugly-Face? Not if I can help it.”

****

Harry’s hands still were resting on Voldemort’s face. Now Harry wanted fiercely.

Croaker had talked about draining all of Voldemort’s magic into the heptagram’s runestones somehow, and somehow this drain of Voldemort’s magic would drain the magic of his Death Eaters. Harry could not guess how Croaker had planned to do this, how the dinner-plate-sized runestone had figured into Croaker’s plan, but Harry fiercely wanted Croaker’s plan to work.

Only if Voldemort were dead, and the Dark Lord’s friends were dead, could Harry have any hope of a normal life. Harry fiercely wanted, with every fibre of his being, to have a normal life, in which people who cared for him would not be killed by evil wizards. Harry had friends now—Hermione, Neville, Lavender and Parvati—and Harry fiercely wanted his friends to live!

Harry’s hands began to glow yellow, then his arms began to glow yellow. Meanwhile, the runestones inside the heptagram began to glow yellow, as Ugly-Face began screaming. This made Harry’s ears hurt.

****

Croaker stared in amazement as Mr Potter’s body acted exactly like the magic-drain runestone had acted, minutes ago. A yellow rope of magic went from Mr Potter’s yellow-glowing body to the heptagram; at the heptagram, the magical rope unwound itself and touched each of the twenty runestones that were inside the heptagram. These runestones glowed yellow.

Croaker had a theory about how this eleven-year-old boy was achieving amazing magic: namely, the “will mark him as his equal” part of the prophecy was truer than anyone had suspected. In one minute in 1981, Voldemort had given Harry a lightning-bolt scar, and a piece of Voldemort’s soul had lodged in this scar. Croaker suspected that these two events had boosted Mr Potter’s magic to be as powerful as Voldemort’s magic had become by 1981. (Croaker was sure that Voldemort had boosted his magic before 1981 by means of Dark rituals.) Anyway, when the goblins removed the horcrux in Mr Potter’s scar, so Croaker theorised, for some reason the boy kept the magical power-boost that Voldemort unknowingly had given him.

The “power the Dark Lord knows not,” Croaker theorised, was the Dark Lord’s own power, copied into the magical core of this eleven-year-old boy.

(Croaker did not know that Harry Potter had begun his first Hogwarts year with three bindings on his magical core, yet still had enough magical power to carry out all wand-magic assignments in class. Nor did Croaker know that earlier this month, the goblins had removed those three bindings.)

In short, Croaker figured, Voldemort was battling a lad with mage-level magic—which was Voldemort’s own fault!—and, even worse for the Dark Lord, this boy somehow had just tapped into wish-magic.

****

Meanwhile, in the Great Hall (still during lunchtime)

A few minutes ago, Snape had felt a brief pain in his Dark Mark, and had felt a slight, steady drain of his magic. Both problems had stopped, less than a minute later, and Snape had mentally shrugged off the minor mystery.

But now his two problems were back, and much worse.

Before, the magic-drain had felt like Snape had been forced to levitate a book; but now he felt as though he were being forced to cast an assembly line of doe-patronuses. Snape’s Dark Mark’d forearm was in agony, his magical core ached, and he was starting to feel dizzy. The Potions Master screamed in pain and despair as he thought, Today I die.

Hagrid, who was sitting next to Snape at the High Table, asked, “Is sumpin’ wrong, perfesser?”

Snape thought, Lily warned me.

Snape looked over where the Gryffindor firsties sat, and saw no sign of the Potter brat. Snape felt relief. He would hate to die in this room and to see the son show Snape the same cruel smile that his father had so often shown to “Snivellus.”

****

Meanwhile, in Azkaban Prison

Albus was in the same wing, and on the same floor, as the ten worst Death Eaters—those who had chosen prison as a badge of honour, rather than lie about being Imperiused.

In the four days since Albus had been locked up here, he had tried to persuade the Death Eaters to repent of their evils. The Death Eaters, to put it mildly, had declined Albus’s suggestions.

But now, something strange and alarming was happening: nine of the Death Eater prisoners suddenly screamed and screamed. Only Bellatrix Lestrange did not scream.

Instead, Mrs Lestrange, whilst pausing for painful gasps, laughed in delight: “Our Dark Master is”—gasp—“using us! The pain is glorious! Hurt”—gasp—“me for your service, Dark Lord! I grow weak so that”—gasp—“you may be strong!”

Minutes later, none of the Death Eaters were screaming or, in Mrs Lestrange’s case, was talking and laughing.

Albus was torn. He hated to see any magical being suffer, especially a magical being who had not turned away from his or her Dark path. But alas, sometimes the Greater Good required pain, suffering and even death. The best example of this principle? Harry Potter.

Because Harry had the horcrux in his scar, the boy had to die. (Yes, the Fates claimed that Harry no longer had the horcrux in his scar, but the Fates surely were mistaken.) Anyway, not only did Harry have to die, but he had to be browbeaten into being willing to die, as this was the only way for Tom to be vanquished.

Preserving Wizarding Britain, by killing Tom, was a far greater good than protecting the health and happiness of one young boy named Harry.

****

Back in Misc Exp Room 16, Department of Mysteries

A ghost-like thing tried to rise up out of Ugly-Face. But Harry fiercely wanted for Voldemort not to escape his due punishment, so the ghost-Voldemort was sucked back into Quirrell’s body.

Without more drama, Voldemort stopped struggling, stopped yelling and stopped breathing.

****

Croaker was sure that Mr Potter did not see what was happening now, but the Unspeakables saw it clearly—

A band of glowing yellow formed on each of Quirrell’s hands and on each of his feet. These bands began moving up the body, heading towards Quirrell’s trunk.

After a yellow band passed a part of Quirrell’s body, that part became grey ash.

The yellow bands for the arms disappeared when the arms had been destroyed. When the legs had been destroyed, the two yellow leg-bands merged, then the one big yellow band continued to move up Quirrell’s trunk. This yellow band ate Quirrell’s hips, then ate his stomach and lower back.

****

When Quirrell’s head had been turned into grey ash and Ugly-Face had turned into grey ash, Harry saw his hands and arms stop glowing yellow, and the runestones in the heptagram stopped glowing yellow.

****

In Azkaban Prison

Albus’s floor, with its twelve prison cells, now was eerily quiet. The ten Death Eater prisoners did not move, they did not speak and—as best as Albus could see—they did not breathe.

“What do you think killed them?” Ocrisius Macmillan asked. Macmillan had been given life in Azkaban, in the high-security wing, for murdering his mother-in-law. Ocrisius Macmillan and Albus were now the only prisoners still alive on this floor.

“I have no idea how they died,” Albus replied distractedly. Then he yelled, “Aurors! Aurors! We need Aurors here! Prisoners have died!”

****

Somewhere

Severus Snape startled. How had he gone from the Great Hall to here? And where was “here”?

Looking about, Snape saw that he was in the office of Horace Slughorn; Slughorn had been the Potions professor when Severus had been a student.

There had been rumours that Slughorn sometimes had taken advantage of boys who were Potions students; but Sev himself had never been propositioned by the man. In any case, Horace Slughorn had been the first adult to say to a gangly, black-haired teenager, “I believe in you. You can be great at Potions.” Snape always would be grateful to Slughorn for his full support.

Snape wondered, How can I be in Slughorn’s office in Hogwarts, when Slughorn doesn’t have an office in Hogwarts anymore?

Also odd: Slughorn’s office, instead of looking like Snape remembered it, now had everything whitened in it—bleached-wood floors, white-painted walls, and white chairs that surrounded a white desk. The office’s various potions, in vials and in a silver cauldron, all looked like milk. Even the books were white-covered, with their titles and other cover-text written in light grey.

The fire in the all-white-bricks Floo fireplace now flashed green, and someone stepped into Slughorn’s whitened office.

The visitor was Lily Potter. Her arms were crossed, and she was glaring at Severus. “You’re dead, Sev. Before you may go on, this mudblood demands a reckoning.”

****

In Misc Exp Room 16

Croaker pulled the prophecy-sphere out of the pocket of his robes, then walked over to Harry (who was trying to clean grey ash off his Gryffindor robes by hand).

Croaker waved his red wand, spoke a word and Harry’s robes were clean of grey ash. Harry grinned at him.

“Look here, Mr Potter,” Croaker said, as he held out the prophecy-sphere. “The smoke is black now, after you vanquished Voldemort. The Dark Lord is gone forever, along with his Death Eaters.”

“Really truly?” Harry said.

Croaker grinned in reply.

Harry said, “I feel like celebrating. But I don’t know many ways an eleven-year-old can celebrate.”

Croaker replied, “Why don’t I take you to the Executive Dining Room and I buy you a spoil-your-dinner sundae?”

Chapter Text

Still during lunchtime, 12th November
Still in the Great Hall

Upon the screaming death of Professor Snape in the Great Hall, there had been shocked silence from both professors and students. Then the murmurs had started, as everyone made factless guesses about what had killed Hogwarts’s most hated professor.

One of the Weasley twins stood on his piece of bench and faced the Slytherin table. The twin said, “To honour the memory of Professor Snape, we propose that every Gryffindor lose one point today for ‘breathing too loud.’ But be sure that our Ravenclaw In Red”—both twins smiled down the table at firstie Hermione—“will make up our points-loss within a week.”

****

That evening, again in the Great Hall

Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson (in Harry’s year), plus some Slytherins in older years, all received black envelopes by owl-mail. A black envelope meant that someone related to the addressee, this someone being a Gringotts vault-holder, had died.

At the same time, Harry got a letter from Gringotts that explained Right of Conquest; then Harry’s letter declared that by Right of Conquest, Harry was Heir of seventeen Houses. These seventeen Houses were: Tom Marvolo Riddle’s House Slytherin and House Gaunt; plus fifteen Death-Eater Houses. (Reading through the letter, Harry saw quickly that some of those fifteen Death-Eater Houses had living members who all sat at the Slytherin table.) When Harry turned seventeen, so his letter informed him, he not only would become Head of House for House Potter, he would become Head of all seventeen Conquered Houses.

A few minutes later, a mob of Slytherin students stood up and walked over to the first-years part of the Gryffindor table. Marcus Flint was in the lead, and was trying to look threatening.

But Flint was acting threatening only a few hours after Harry had been treated to a chocolate sundae with nuts that was bigger and more delicious than Harry ever had imagined, whilst Croaker had told stories about Harry’s mum (that were vague in their details), and Croaker had explained about the different levels of magical power. Harry did not (yet) have a beard and he did not (yet) have a staff, but according to Croaker, Harry was a no-shit mage now.

A mage who had bested Voldemort, only hours ago.

So Harry was not the least bit afraid of Marcus Flint.

****

“What does this letter mean, Potter?” Flint yelled.

Flint was standing as close to Harry as the Gryffindor table and its other-side bench would allow, whilst Flint glared at Harry. Flint was surrounded by other Slytherin boys. If both Flint and Harry had been Muggles, Flint would have been a frightening figure—but neither of the boys were Muggles.

Harry replied calmly, “How would I know what your letter means? Before I can explain it, you need to read it to me.”

“Says here that House Flint is yours by Right of Conquest, I’m not Heir Flint anymore, you’re Heir Flint, and when you turn seventeen, you’ll be Lord Head of House Flint.”

Harry nodded. “Yep, my Gringotts letter says pretty much the same thing. Except it lists seventeen Houses, not only House Flint.”

“Why? Why do you now own House Flint?”

“Well, I don’t know your father, or whoever was your Head of House, but I’m guessing that he had Voldemort’s ugly tattoo on his left forearm and he died today? Does this sound about right?”

“He had the Dark Mark, yeah, but he was Imperiused to take it.”

“Ri-i-ight. Listen up: If the men and women who died today had the Dark Mark, then they died from the Dark Mark, which means they took the Dark Mark willingly, or the Dark Mark never would’ve formed on their arms. That’s the truth from the Unspeakables. Anything different that anyone else says is a lie by murderous cowards.”

“You calling my pa a murderous coward?”

“If you have to ask, you’re the stupid son of a murderous coward.”

“Avada Kedavra!”

****

In an eyeblink, every dinner plate in the “firsties” part of the Gryffindor table jumped into the air and rotated a quarter-turn. The plates flew left and right to partly overlap, and formed a floating shield.

The plates (and the bits of food still on them) exploded when Flint’s green spell hit them. Porcelain shrapnel shot backwards, toward Harry—

—but whilst no spell could block the Killing Curse, Harry’s mage-level, accidental-magic shield-charm saved him from being ripped to shreds by porcelain shards.

At the same moment, one of the Weasley twins hit Flint with Petrificus Totalus. Surprisingly, Flint did not fall over; he just looked like he had been turned into a stone statue. Flint’s eyes, however, could move.

Those eyes looked angry.

Harry took a calming breath. He looked down at the table—on the table, a few inches in front of his robes, was an oblong pile of food-bits and plate-pieces.

The other Conquered-House Slytherins were looking at Harry in shock. Harry had just successfully blocked a surprise Killing Curse; and had done this wordlessly with no wand in hand.

“Neville,” Harry asked calmly, “in Wizarding Britain, if a member of a House unsuccessfully tries to kill the underage Head of his House, how can the member be punished?”

Neville, in a stunned voice, replied, “The member can be disowned—he forgets all the family magics, is unable to speak or to write his family name, and magical documents list his surname as ‘No-Name.’ He can’t inherit. Or family magic can be called-upon to take his magic. Or family magic can take his life. If the member wrongs his Head of House, the Head of House can bring judgement, even if the Head of House is underage and is otherwise restricted in his authority.”

“I see,” Harry replied. Without Harry speaking a word or making a wand movement, the wand of petrified Marcus Flint jumped out of statue-Marcus’s hand and into Harry’s hand.

Then Harry asked Neville, “How do I punish him?”

Neville replied, “You point your wand straight up, you say, ‘As underage Head of House Flint, I punish Marcus Flint as follows,’ then you state his punishment. Then you say, ‘So mote it be.’ ”

Harry looked at statue-fied Marcus Flint. The entire Great Hall was silent. With Snape dead and with Dumbledore in Azkaban, nobody took it upon himself to interfere in what was a Flint family matter.

Harry noticed Headmistress McGonagall standing about ten feet away. She was silent, and she looked uncertain about what to say or do.

Harry said, “Headmistress, is there any way to clean off this table?”

McGonagall said, “Swotty.” Harry heard a pop. “Clean up the mess on the Gryffindor table, and set out clean plates.”

Pop. A house-elf who wore a tea-towel appeared on the table, in front of Harry. The house-elf clicked his fingers, and the mess disappeared. The house-elf clicked his fingers again, and clean plates appeared in front of the firstie Lions whose plates Harry had “borrowed.” Then pop, the house-elf disappeared.

Amazingly, Hermione asked the house-elf no questions.

Harry said, “Just so I’m clear, Neville: I can point my wand at the ceiling, say certain words, and Marcus Flint will die?”

“Because you’re the underage Head of House Flint, yes.”

Harry spoke a little louder: “Does anyone here—Gryffindor, Slytherin or Ravenclaw—say that Neville is wrong, that I don’t have the right as Flint Head of House to kill this boy who tried to kill me first?”

One of the Slytherin boys—a fourth-year, judging from his size—said loudly, “You sidestepped Marcus’s question. Why do you now own House Flint?”

“Because Voldemort nobbled Marcus’s Head of House into being branded, like a stupid cow. Then today I killed Voldemort, which apparently means I now own what Voldemort owned. And since Voldemort owned your dead daddies, I now own everything your dead daddies owned. Which means I now own the lot of you.”

The fourth-year(?) Slytherin boy said, “You’re a liar, Potter! We saw the Dark Lord taken out of here, yeah, but what proof do you have that he’s dead? And you expect us to believe you killed him?”

Hermione said, “Why not? Harry killed a twelve-foot mountain troll. I’m a witness.”

“Shut up, mudblood!” the Slytherin boy snapped.

Harry said, “To answer your question: If I were lying, none of you would’ve received the letters you got.”

Then Harry looked towards the older-students part of the Gryffindor table. “Anyone know this wanker’s name? I’m sure he’d lie if I asked him directly.”

A fourth-year Gryffindor replied, “His name is Maleus Avery.”

Harry drew his wand, pointed it at the ceiling, and said, “As underage Head of House Avery, I punish Maleus Avery as follows: he is disowned. He loses his family name, his family magic and his right to inherit. So mote it be.”

Light flashed, Maleus glowed briefly, then he dropped to his knees, screaming.

Harry said calmly, “You called my best friend a mudblood. This cost you, mate.”

In the shocked silence, Harry looked at the Weasley twins and said, “Please release Flint from the full body-bind curse.”

This was done. Flint now was free to move, but he did not run away or try to grab his wand back.

Harry picked up Marcus Flint’s wand, stared Flint in the eyes, then laid Flint’s wand on the Gryffindor table. Harry laid his own wand on his new, clean plate. Harry again looked into Flint’s now-puzzled eyes and said, “The good news is, I won’t use Flint family magic to order your death.”

Flint started to speak, as the other Slytherins (except for Maleus No-Name) all looked as though they thought they would get off easy.

Boom. A loud noise sounded inside Flint’s chest. He dropped limp to the ground, with his dead face agonised.

“Return to your seats, Slytherins,” the headmistress ordered, “before Mr Potter harms you further.”

The other Slytherins rushed back to their table without a word. Their faces were pale.

Whilst McGonagall was lifting and was floating away the corpse of Marcus Flint, Hermione said, “Harry, may we please go back to something you glossed over? You killed Voldemort again?”

The Great Hall instantly went silent.

Harry sighed. “Yes, I killed Voldemort again. Forever, this time—the Unspeakables made sure of it. Bugger-all, I’m famous twice.”

****

Meanwhile, elsewhere in Hogwarts Castle

The Spirit of Hogwarts sent a letter of invitation to Emma Granger and to Daniel Granger and to Reginald Finch-Fletchley. The invitation was to become the first Muggle member of the Hogwarts Board of Governors in centuries. The three identical letters said, “All three of you are qualified to serve on the Board, but only one of you can serve, so you three decide who this one will be. All three of you from now until the winnowing will have a Hogwarts house-elf, Cliffy, on call; afterwards, the Board member amongst you may continue to call Cliffy.”

The letter gave no Muggle contact information; the Grangers and Reginald had to play with telephone directories. But quickly the Grangers and Reginald decided that on Sunday, 17th November, the Grangers would drive from Crawley (in West Sussex County, south-southwest of London) through London to the Finch-Fletchley manor (in Broadland district in Norfolk County, north-northeast of London); there the Finch-Fletchleys would host the Grangers for dinner.

The Grangers made the drive with Cliffy invisible in the car. For the Grangers, the house-elf had as many ignorant questions about the Muggle world as Hermione had complained about she being asked at Hogwarts.

After the Grangers arrived at Reginald’s house, the Muggle adults told their stories over dinner. The Grangers were husband-and-wife dentists; Reginald Finch-Fletchley had an (unmentioned) aristocratic title and was distantly related to the Queen; Estelle Finch-Fletchley was a former fashion model and former (unfamous) actress, who had grown up in France. But these four adults were alike in the “adventures” they had lived through, in raising a magical child who had no way to know he/she was magical till Professor McGonagall had shown up.

Little Justin had floated toys; little Hermione had floated books that had been on high shelves. Angry little Hermione had blown up a television; scared little Justin had statue-fied a mare in the stables that had tried to kick him.

(The Finch-Fletchleys had gotten off easy, afterwards. The mare had lost her statue-ness after three hours, but had never tried to kick Justin again; but the Granger parents had been forced to buy a new telly.)

By 17th November, Reginald, Estelle, Dan and Emma had a good idea what day-to-day life at Hogwarts was like for their Muggle-born, first-year children. The two children still were awestruck by their lives at school; but what was clear to the four adults was that Muggle-borns were preyed upon by bullies, whilst the professors did nothing. The worst bully in the school had been the Potions professor (till he had died), but the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, had protected the man.

But now Headmaster Dumbledore was in prison, and the Board of Governors bore the task of choosing his replacement.

Minerva McGonagall now was Acting Headmistress, but Dan, Emma and Reginald all had misgivings about her being awarded the position permanently; the three Muggles all felt that she would continue Dumbledore’s many mistakes.

Over dessert, it was decided: Reginald Finch-Fletchley would accept the Board of Governors post, because he had the most free time of the three Muggles invited to be on the Board; but the Grangers would keep in constant telephone contact with Reginald.

****

Two days later (Tuesday, 19th November)

The new Board of Governors member Reginald Finch-Fletchley called for a meeting in the Great Hall, after dinner, of all Muggle-born and –raised students, in all seven years.

Reginald was shocked by what he saw and heard. Whilst the eyes the young girl who looked like both Emma and Dan Granger shone brightly with excitement, the Muggle-born sixth- and seventh-years acted like trapped animals. They told Reginald they had been bullied in Hogwarts and they faced job discrimination in Wizarding Britain because they were Muggle-borns; but since Hogwarts had not taught them nonmagical subjects, they would not get good jobs in nonmagical Britain, nor could they go to uni. Several upper-year Muggle-borns said things like, “McGonagall lied to me on my eleventh birthday!”

Someone mentioned Manchester Magical Academy, which was intended for Muggle-born students. MMA taught both magical and nonmagical subjects—and best of all for Muggle-borns, blood-purity snobs refused to send their children there.

Then came the first shocker for Reginald: Almost nobody in the room had heard of this school in Manchester that sounded much preferable for Muggle-borns.

The second shocker for Reginald came when a seventh-year Muggle-born looked at Justin, Hermione and the other Muggle-born firsties and said, “Transfer to Manchester. Transfer to MMA today, if you can. For a Muggle-born, every day at Hogwarts is a complete waste of your time.”

Reginald growled, “Beginning today, Hogwarts won’t be a waste of your time. The Board of Governors must choose a new headmaster, and did you know that the Board vote for headmaster must be unanimous? No wizard-raised magical Brit will become the next headmaster or –mistress, I guarantee you.”

****

The next day (Wednesday, 20th November)
During the next meeting of the Board of Governors

The other members of the Board were shocked that Reginald did not rubber-stamp Minerva McGonagall as headmistress. In a condescending tone, Augusta Longbottom lectured Reginald as though he were a pathetically shy eleven-year-old. Reginald heard her out, then said archly, “I take it you’re not used to winning arguments by showing the merits of your ideas instead of trying for intimidation?”

After McGonagall was voted down, the next candidate for headmaster was Robert MacGregor, the current deputy headmaster for Manchester Magical Academy. He turned down the post.

Later, he explained to the Daily Prophet his reasons: “Between learning that Potions had been taught by a Death Eater who bullied three quarters of the students, that History of Magic was taught by a goblins-obsessed ghost, that the post of DADA professor was cursed but no professor or Board member could be bothered to cancel the curse, and that Muggle Studies was taught be a bloody Pureblood, I was this-close to withdrawing my application. Why had the Board and the former headmaster allowed these travesties to befall the school? Then in their big dining room, students from the green table dared to question my suitability as headmaster, not for any academic lack I might have, but because I was a ‘mudblood.’ I stood up and said to Headmistress McGonagall, ‘Students at MMA have better manners, know more and they won’t birth Squib children. This isn’t a school, it’s a shrine to Pureblood delusions and I want no part of it. Goodbye.’ Then I walked out, as students from the green table cheered.”

The Board finally found a new headmaster: Sam Houston Kellner, formerly the deputy headmaster at Ilvermorny. As a ten-year-old boy, Kellner had been sorted into Thunderbird House (the House of the adventurous), and in his opening speech in Hogwarts’s Great Hall, he made reference to the “adventure” of taking over Hogwarts.

Then the Board had to choose the deputy headmaster/headmistress. Reginald still had a low opinion of Minerva McGonagall, and saw Pomona Sprout and Filius Flitwick as equally suited for this post. Another Board member refused to consider Flitwick. Augusta Longbottom’s first choice was McGonagall, with Sprout her second choice. The other Board members had no strong feelings for or against anyone. When the dust settled, Pomona Sprout became the deputy headmistress.

So what to do with McGonagall? Augusta Longbottom wanted to sack Sirius Black as Head of House Gryffindor, then give McGonagall back this position. But Reginald Finch-Fletchley quoted Gryffindor Muggle-borns who had given examples how McGonagall had been a negligent and ineffective Gryffindor Head. In the end, McGonagall, who briefly had been acting headmistress, was demoted to Transfiguration professor only.

Once the Board of Governors had chosen the headmaster and the deputy headmaster, and had chosen the postings for Minerva McGonagall, Headmaster Kellner was given the freedom to run Hogwarts as he saw fit.

****

Five days later (Monday, 25th November)

Headmaster Kellner did not hate on the Slytherins the way that MacGregor would have; but Kellner made it clear he was unimpressed with bullies. Several upper-year Slytherins and two seventh-year Ravenclaws learnt this the hard way, when they were expelled. Draco No-Name and Maleus No-Name each were given a week’s suspension.

The Hogwarts wards were upgraded to what they should have been. Dark Lords were not allowed in, anyone with the Dark Mark was not allowed in (if somehow the Dark Mark’d person had survived Voldemort’s death), and animaguses were blocked (except for cat-animagus Minerva McGonagall and Grim-animagus Sirius Black). Two days after the no-unknown-animaguses ward was activated, three Hufflepuff students found Rita Skeeter unconscious outside the Entrance Hall.

Kellner also built into the wards a long list of spells that, if they were cast outside of a classroom, would put the caster into a full body-bind and would alert the Spirit of Hogwarts, who would alert the headmaster. This was how the bullying Slytherins and the two bullying Ravenclaws had been caught.

While Gringotts goblins were at Hogwarts to upgrade the wards, they also were hired to exorcise Binns. Once this was done, Kellner hired a breathing History of Magic Professor, and hired Andromeda Black Tonks, who was a Healer at Saint Mungo’s, to be the new Potions professor.

The Muggle Studies professor, who was a Pureblood, of course was replaced.

Then Headmaster Kellner, who did not feel a need to spend Hogwarts money on sherbet lemons, discovered that Hogwarts had enough funds to hire an English Composition professor, a Maths professor, a General Science professor and a British History professor.

Then Headmaster Kellner did something that got him written up on Page 1 of the Daily Prophet: He hired a team of Squibs to install a telephone in the headmaster’s office. (Oddly, Kellner’s statement of “What’s the big deal? At Ilvermorny, every professor has a telephone in his office” was not quoted.)

****

Meanwhile during 1991

On Friday, 15th November, all the Death Eaters that had been arrested within the past week, including Peter Pettigrew, were not put on trial, because they had died screaming in their holding cells on 12th November.

During the 15th November Wizengamot session, a new Minister for Magic was elected: Amelia Bones.

****

Harry and his friends (Hermione, Lavender, Parvati and Neville) acquired a nickname round the school: the Gold Five. In Potions, Hermione and Neville always partnered together (because Neville needed Hermione’s help). In Potions, Harry partnered with, alternately, Lavender or Parvati, then Parvati or Lavender partnered with Fay Dunbar. It was Hermione who persuaded the Gold Five to march into Sirius’s office and to demand that Neville get a new wand. After Sirius bought Neville a wand out of his own money, Neville’s almost-a-Squib reputation vanished immediately.

Speaking of titles, one of the Weasley twins had called Hermione the Ravenclaw In Red, and this title quickly caught on with Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. When Gryffs called Hermione this, the title meant Yes, she is smart, but she is also brave enough to battle a troll. When ’Claws called Hermione “the Ravenclaw In Red,” what they meant was Gryffindors all are morons with no impulse control; how can Granger be in that House instead of in our House?

****

Narcissa Black, in order to get in good with Sirius, began to teach wizard etiquette to Harry and Hermione.

As for Narcissa’s son Draco, Sirius delayed adopting him (mainly because of Draco’s horrid attitude), so Draco remained Draco No-Name.

****

Amelia Bones and Harry’s godfather Sirius Black were getting serious (pun intended). Once it seemed likely that Susan Bones and Harry Potter would soon become something like step-siblings, Harry and Hermione sometimes ate meals with the Hufflepuff firsties; and Susan, Hannah and Justin sometimes ate at the Gryffindor table.

Hermione told Harry that Justin at the Gryffindor table sometimes sneaked peeks at Lavender Brown when the bubbly blonde would not notice. Meanwhile, Neville was never shy whenever Hannah Abbott was at his table.

Without anyone noticing, the Gold Five became the Gold Eight. Ron Weasley still remained excluded.

****

One day whilst Sirius, then acting as Potter Regent, was nosing about Harry’s trust vault, he found a betrothal contract between Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley (the Weasley boys’ only sister, who was one year younger than Ron). The betrothal contract had been signed by Albus Dumbledore and Molly Weasley in 1981.

Harry, once he was shown the contract, nearly had a heart attack.

Worried Sirius showed the betrothal contract to Ted Tonks.

According to Ted, the contract was worthless, for any number of reasons. For one thing, no betrothal contract could require Harry to marry until he had reached his majority; but when Harry reached his majority, he would become Head of House Potter.

It turns out that only a Head of House—not a regent, not a guardian, only a Head of House—may sign a betrothal contract that obligates a Head of House. Anything else is Line Theft.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

****

During the 1991 Yule break, Harry visited the homes of the rest of the Gold Eight, and they visited with him at Sirius’s house. Neville, Susan, Lavender, Parvati and Hannah were starstruck at Hermione’s house; whilst Justin Finch-Fletchley glanced about Hermione’s house, then started a discussion with Dan Granger about golf.

Christmas Day had one awkward moment for Harry in it: somehow Harry received the gift of a hand-knitted jumper from Ron Weasley’s mum. Using Sirius’s grumpy house-elf Kreacher, Harry returned the gift, along with a note explaining that Harry and Ron were no longer friends even slightly. Awkward.

****

On Thursday, 26th December, the day for giving gifts to servants, the DMLE gave a gift to one unwilling servant: Harry Potter. On this date, the DMLE went to Little Whinging and arrested all three Dursleys. The next day (Friday, 27th December), Harry’s abusive relatives were put on trial in front of the Wizengamot; Veritaserum was used. The Dursleys’ guilt was unquestioned; only their punishment needed to be decided.

At first, the Wizengamot seat-holders debated how long to sentence the Dursleys to Azkaban. Then Sirius Black told the Wizengamot that whilst he personally wanted to execute the Dursleys painfully, by means of a Black-grimoire nasty hex, he knew that sentencing the three Dursleys to Azkaban would kill them (because they were Muggles), which would distress Harry. “So please,” Sirius said, “punish the Dursleys a Muggle way—but make it hurt.”

The Wizengamot sentenced Vernon and Petunia to life without parole in a Queen’s Prison, and eleven-year-old Dudley was sentenced to a school for troubled boys till he was eighteen. Before the Dursleys were taken to their new homes, they each were given a “Don’t talk about magic or magicals!” compulsion.

Dudley, up till he arrived at his new school, had seldom been disciplined by adults, and he had never himself been bullied. Within forty-eight hours of Dudley arriving at his new school, he was shown that his privileged life had ended forever.

****

Also during Yule break, Harry and Sirius (and Hermione) visited Potter Manor, which had been quite damaged by Death Eaters before Harry had been born. Sirius, whilst acting as Potter Regent, contracted with the goblins to repair Potter Manor. As Sirius had visited there many times as a Hogwarts student, he promised Harry to restore the big house to its former glory.

In Potter Manor were four Potter house-elves, who were magically weak when Harry met them. Harry injected some of his magic into each of the four house-elves; as Harry had mage-level magic, this was easy to do.

The first thing that Harry did with his reenergised house-elves was to order them to transport Harry’s owl-mail from Hogwarts to two bedrooms in Potter Manor. (Shortly after Sam Houston Kellner had become headmaster of Hogwarts, the head Hogwarts house-elf had told Kellner about an unused classroom that contained nothing but Harry Potter’s owl-mail—going all the way back to November 1981.) Soon after the Boy Who Lived fan mail was brought to Potter Manor, the Potter house-elves discovered that included in this ten-year mound of owl-mail was every bank statement that Gringotts had ever sent.

****

Spring term, 1992

The Potter house-elves had told Harry that in the Potter Library were seven pink diaries written by Lily Evans Potter—one diary for each of Lily’s Hogwarts years.

During the Spring term, Harry read his mum’s diaries, and let Hermione borrow the diaries to read too.

In Lily’s sixth-year diary, Lily mentioned being told by a portrait of snake-draped Akbar Slytherin that she was a Parselmouth. Portrait-Akbar told Lily how to find the secret chamber of Salazar Slytherin.

According to Lily’s diary, Lily went down to Slytherin’s Chamber, saw all the statues of hood-spread cobras and of Salazar’s bearded head, then returned to Myrtle’s bathroom after only a few minutes.

Harry searched for the portrait of Akbar Slytherin, because Harry wanted to learn more about his mother. During Harry’s conversation with the portrait, Akbar mentioned that Slytherin’s Chamber had a basilisk in it, and that a Hogwarts student in the 1940s had known this.

Harry told Headmaster Kellner about the basilisk, and led the headmaster to Akbar Slytherin’s portrait.

The next day, Headmaster Kellner had Harry lead a group of Aurors, Unspeakables and DRCMC (Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures) workers to Moaning Myrtle’s lavatory, where Harry opened up the tunnel that led into Slytherin’s Chamber. At the bottom of this tunnel was a round metal door that only Harry could open; and in Slytherin’s Chamber was a bust of a bearded man whose mouth could be opened only by the words of a Parselmouth.

After trial and error, Harry discovered that he could make Bust-Slytherin open his mouth by saying “§Oi, Founder Slytherin, I want to talk to your basilisk.§”

Harry talked to the basilisk, who could look through magical transparent-red eyelids so that people could look in her eyes without dying. Harry named the basilisk §Gazer.§ Somehow Gazer could smell that Harry was the Heir of Slytherin. Soon Gazer told Harry that the previous Heir of Slytherin had ordered her to kill a Muggle-born girl.

When Harry translated this, that Gazer had killed a Hogwarts student fifty years ago, everyone in Slytherin’s Chamber got angry, and Harry heard talk of Gazer being put down.

Good luck with that, Harry thought.

Harry told Gazer that the previous Heir of Slytherin was evil and a liar—and was now dead besides. Harry ordered Gazer not to kill any more students, Muggle-born or otherwise, and to return to the mission that Salazar Slytherin had given her: to protect the school against external threats.

The Ministry people soon left Slytherin’s Chamber. Harry heard a DRCMC worker complain that he hadn’t earnt his pay today. An Auror pointed out that everyone had seen a basilisk today but nobody had died, which he thought was a win.

****

The next day, Harry escorted the rest of the Gold Eight—plus Slytherins Zabini, Greengrass, Davis and Bulstrode—into Slytherin’s Chamber. Harry did this after warning the other children an hour ahead of time, “Wear old clothes you don’t mind getting filthy.”

In Slytherin’s Chamber, the children got to meet Gazer, after Harry asked the basilisk to close her “friendly” (transparent-red) eyelids.

The children’s responses to seeing the gigantic basilisk differed by House—

The Gryffindor children said, “I wonder what it would take to fight and to kill a basilisk this big.”

The Slytherins said, “Look at that, our Founder made a basilisk!”

The Hufflepuffs said, “The poor thing, I bet she’s lonely.”

Behind Slytherin’s bust, the children found a suite that had green-upholstered furniture, a bed with a green coverlet, a portrait of a cobra that hissed at the children and a bookcase with books on shelves. (Alas for everyone but Harry, the hundred books in the bookcase—even the porno novel—all were written in Parseltext.)

But those hundred books weren’t the only Parseltext books the children found. Harry eventually found Slytherin’s Library, which had one or two thousand books in it. What Slytherin’s Library also had was a thousand years of dust, till Hermione called Dobby to vanish the dust. Dobby vanished the dust, then hugged Hermione’s legs for giving him the “gift” of a difficult cleaning task.

Once the dust was gone and the children were free to walk about Slytherin’s Library, Harry discovered a book, §Read This First§, in the middle of the biggest table in the library. Meanwhile, the other children were dismayed to discover that every one of the hundreds of books in the library was in Parseltext.

When Harry found, in §Read This First§, a spell to conjure a blue-covered, English-language translation of a Parseltext book, Hermione was so happy she sang and danced to “Honey, Honey” by Abba. When Harry told Hermione that the translation-book was only conjured, and would disappear after twenty-four hours, Hermione still was happy enough to sing and dance.

Until third year, the four Slytherin invitees refused all invitations to eat at the Gryffindor table with the Gold Eight. But every time Harry and Hermione ate at the Hufflepuff table, the four Slytherin invitees ate there too.

****

Sunday, 21st June 1992 (the Summer Solstice)

Minister for Magic Amelia Bones and Lord Sirius Black married in the Ministry atrium.

Harry and Susan participated in the wedding in the ways expected; the other six members of the Gold Eight attended as guests. Nymphadora Tonks, one of the bridesmaids, had hair that exactly matched her bridesmaid robes.

****

The rest of summer, 1992

Muggle-dressed Lavender and Parvati visited the Granger house by traveling on the Knight Bus. Once those two were at the Granger house, the three young witches had dinner (Muggle-cooked) with the Grangers, then the trio held a slumber party.

At the slumber party, the three witches showed each other their reports (report cards). Hermione had been given Outstandings in all first-year subjects, both magical and nonmagical. Neither Lavender nor Parvati looked surprised.

Lavender and Parvati both had been given Acceptables in the four nonmagical subjects (English Composition, Maths, General Science and British History). Those two girls looked nervous at Hermione’s reaction, but she smiled and Hermy-hugged them both. (Truthfully, Hermione had expected her wizard-raised friends to do no better than Acceptable in any nonmagical subject.)

In magical subjects, Lavender had earned mostly Exceeds, with one Acceptable and one Outstanding; whilst Parvati had been awarded two Outstandings and the rest were EEs.

Hermione’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Your marks are ... good, you two.”

Lavender laughed. “Yeah, I shocked Mum and Dad. Listen, I boarded the firstie train planning to earn only Acceptables, because this would keep the parents from bothering me, but I planned to spend the rest of my time at Hogwarts having fun. But once I became friends with you, Hermione, I felt ashamed every time I got an Acceptable on an essay. I’m not smart like you or Padma or Parvati, but this year I tried like blazes to score high marks.”

Parvati said, “Same here. I tried harder this year because of you being my friend, Hermione. Yesterday Padma made a joke that soon the only way people will be able to tell her and me apart will be by our clothes.”

Of course Hermione then gave both her friends Hermy-hugs.

The next morning, Emma Granger drove the three girls to Harrods.

****

In Harrods, Justin Finch-Fletchley and his mother Estelle bumped into Hermione, Lavender and Parvati. (How did this happen? Hermione might have accidentally telephoned Justin the day before, and might have accidentally informed him that she, Parvati and Lavender would be in Harrods the following day.) In Harrods, whilst the witches bought Muggle teen-girl clothes, Lavender and Justin flirted.

Estelle Finch-Fletchley turned out to be a fount of knowledge about Muggle women’s fashions. She taught the three young girls quite a bit, and even Emma admitted to learning things.

****

The following Saturday, Harry and Sirius hosted Potter Manor’s first party in over a decade. Invited were Harry’s yearmates (with one notable exception), plus the Weasley twins.

The Weasley twins, before they would be allowed to attend the party, had to each swear an oath on his magic that he would not prank anyone at the party, nor would he pull any time-delay pranks whose effects would not appear until after the party. The twins, who had noticed by now that they never were invited to parties, probably because of partygoers’ fear of the twins’ pranks, willingly gave the oaths.

One yearmate of Harry’s was not invited to the party: Ron Weasley. Nobody (including his twin brothers) said they missed him.

Draco No-Name was on his best behaviour at the party—mainly because his mother and Sirius had told him that if he did not embarrass himself or his mother, Sirius would adopt him as a Black after Harry’s party.

Pansy Parkinson behaved at the party because she was terrified of offending Harry.

The Slytherins at the party did not know what to think. Had Harry invited his maybe-future-enemies to his party because he was Gryffindor chivalrous, or because he was Slytherin cunning?

Sometime during the party, Lavender said, “I can’t believe the twins are behaving themselves.”

Parvati said haughtily, “Excuse me? Padma and I behave ourselves always. Or were you referring to the ginger-haired twins? Remember, this party has more than one set of twins attending it.”

****

Weeks later
Tuesday, 1st September 1992
The first day of Harry’s second year
In the Great Hall, Hogwarts

Pomona Sprout, the deputy headmistress, looked down at the list. Then she called out, “Lovegood, Luna.”

A waif with long, white-blond hair, grey eyes and a dreamy smile walked to the stool, then gracefully sat down on the stool. Lovegood folded her hands in her lap as Sprout placed the Hat on the girl’s head; Lovegood looked unworried.

Lavender murmured to the rest of the brand-new second-years at the Gryffindor table—

“See that girl who is being Sorted now? She has floating purple flames burning over her head—two purple flames. Not only is she a Seer like Trelawney and me, she’s more of a Seer than Trelawney and me. Merlin, this girl has Aunt Placida beat too.”

“Professor Trelawney,” Hermione corrected.

“Better be Ravenclaw!” the Hat yelled.

Lavender murmured, “It wouldn’t surprise me if she speaks a prophecy before she sits her NEWTs.”

As Lovegood walked towards the first-years end of the Ravenclaw table, she turned her head towards the Gryffindor second-years and gave Lavender a dreamy smile.

****

After the Sorting was complete, sitting at the first-years end of the Gryffindor table were many new faces—and one returned student: Ron Weasley.

During the Welcoming Feast, whilst Ron was stuffing his face, he was glaring at Hermione.

Not sitting at the Gryffindor table was firstie Ginevra Weasley—she had been Sorted into Slytherin.

The next day, Molly Weasley sent a Howler to Headmaster Kellner (for “allowing the mis-Sort of Ginny Weasley to happen”), and sent a Howler to Slytherin firstie Ginny Weasley (for “disgracing the family”). Kellner reported Molly Weasley to Wizard Child Services, who fined Mrs Weasley an amount that the Weasley family probably could not afford to pay.

****

Later that month
Saturday, 19th September 1992
Hermione’s thirteenth birthday

In the Gryffindor common room on 2nd September, Harry had stacked up five books of different sizes, then he had laid on the stack a sixth book, which had been open in the middle. Harry then had paid five galleons to Dean Thomas to draw the six books.

Harry had written a few things on Dean’s drawing, then had handed the drawing to Sirius Black, Harry’s godfather and the Head of Gryffindor House. Harry had given Sirius spoken instructions about what he wanted; the instructions had ended with “...Make sure that every knut to pay for this comes out of my trust vault. You pay for nothing, understand?”

Now on Hermione’s birthday, Harry handed Hermione a small, flat box. In the box was a pin that showed the six books. The book-cover parts of the stacked books, and the edges of the book cover for the open book, were represented by something bright-red and shiny. The pages-parts of the six books were represented by gold. At the bottom of the pin, in shiny bright red on a gold background, were the letters “RIR.” On the back of the pin were runes that would make the pin stick to clothing when the runes were activated.

Hermione hugged Harry fiercely, and she cried happy tears. From that day forwards, Hermione always wore the “RIR” pin with whatever outfit she was wearing, whether Hogwarts robes or Muggle clothes.

****

Not quite two years later: Thursday, 1st September 1994
The first day of Harry’s fourth year
Again in the Great Hall

It was nothing new that Hermione was joyous to be back at Hogwarts. What was new was how she showed her joy.

Before Hermione sat down on the Gryffindor bench, which was before this year’s firsties were led in, she briefly kissed Harry on the lips.

“Yes!” Lavender yelled. “Oi, Fred, George, they kissed! They kissed! Who wins?”

Harry looked at Lavender in total confusion. “ ‘Who wins’ what? And what does Hermione and me kissing have to do with anyone winning anything?”

Hermione said, “Look over there. Fred and George pulled a little book out of their robes, and now they’re flipping through it like it has instructions for making a philosopher’s stone.”

****

After the firsties had been sorted, Weasley Twin 1 stood up and said, “May I have your attention, please? The ‘When will The Boy Who Killed The Dark Lord kiss in public, The Ravenclaw In Red?’ pool has been decided. The winner is Daphne Greengrass”—the Slytherins applauded—“and the prize is more than three hundred galleons—”

“Yes!” Greengrass exclaimed.

“—which we will pay out tomorrow at breakfast, when we know the exact amount. Now we’d like to thank Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, for giving us one more interesting thing to bet on.”

Hermione was blushing red when she stood up, but she also was smirking. “Technically, Harry didn’t kiss me, I kissed him. Will this mess up your pool?”

On the other side of the Great Hall, Daphne Greengrass laughingly yelled, “Shut up, Granger!”

At breakfast the next morning, Daphne Greengrass was handed a sack of coins that contained, according to the Weasley twins, 337 galleons. In answer to a question, the twins stated that this particular pool had been started in November 1991, only days after Potter’s and Granger’s adventure with the troll.

****

One year and two months later
Saturday, 4th November 1995

Redheaded Gryffindor fourth-year student Ron Weasley tried to love-potion fifth-year Gryffindor prefect Hermione. Redheaded Slytherin fourth-year student Ginny Weasley tried to love-potion fifth-year Gryffindor prefect Harry.

Hermione’s enchanted necklace detected the potion in her goblet; Harry’s Heir Potter ring detected the potion in his goblet.

Ginny was arrested; Ron was not. (It was against the law to love-potion a Head of House, even an underage one; but it was not against the law to love-potion a Muggle-born.)

Both Ron and Ginny were expelled, and their wands were snapped. But by then, Harry had beat the crap out of Ron, both magically and with his fists.

Maybe Molly Weasley sent a Howler to Harry then; but Headmaster Kellner’s wards incinerated Howlers before any child heard them.

Lavender and Parvati stood up at the Gryffindor table and clapped when Headmaster Kellner announced that Ron (and Ginny) had been expelled. Seeing this, many fourth-year Slytherins stood up and clapped.

Being expelled was inconvenient for Ron. Not only did he get yelled-at by his mother when he returned to the Burrow, but expulsion ended his broom-cupboard meetings with Romilda Vane.

Ginny was sent to Azkaban for five years, in the medium-security wing. After her release, nobody wanted to marry her, and the Holyhead Harpies ignored her public hints that she wanted to play for them.

****

About one year later
Friday, 8th November 1996
Azkaban Prison

Albus Percival Dumbledore, having served all of his five-year sentence, was released from prison.

Chapter Text

Still Friday, 8th November 1996
Two months into Harry’s sixth year
Just outside Azkaban Prison

A cold wind hit Albus’s face. Albus did not mind this, because sunlight also was hitting Albus’s face—the first sunlight he had experienced in five years.

Two prison-guard Aurors walked Albus from the stone building to the boat dock. Aurors hated prison-guard duty and they hated the prisoners, so neither Auror spoke to Albus.

Albus got a surprise when he was walked to the boat dock. Albus said, in a voice that was raspy from disuse, “Saul? Nymphadora? You two are my escorts?”

The young Auror who was standing next to Saul Croaker said—as her hair turned bright red—“Address me as ‘Auror First Class Tonks,’ Albus. Now shut up and let’s get in the bloody boat. It’s cold out here.”

Nymphadora climbed down the ladder first. Once she was in the boat, she walked unsteadily to the pointy end of the boat, turned, drew her wand and pointed it at Albus, who still was standing on the dock. “Your turn, old man.”

Oddly, so Albus saw, even after Nymphadora had sat down in the pointy end of the boat, the boat still rocked and moved a bit.

Albus descended the ladder and stepped into the rocking boat; Nymphadora ordered him, “Move to the middle.”

Saul was the last to enter the boat; he sat down in the rear end of the boat.

The boat contained just the three of them, Albus noticed; nobody was driving the boat.

Nymphadora pointed her wand down at the boat, spoke words that were too quiet for Albus to hear, then the boat left the Azkaban boat dock. Immediately the boat turned half-left, then moved forwards on a straight course.

“So, Mister Dumbledore,” Saul said in a taunting voice, “did you enjoy the last five years?”

Albus shot Saul his disappointed-grandfather look. “What do you think? Dementors constantly, no mail and no newspapers.”

Nymphadora shrugged. “No prisoners at Azkaban get mail. If you didn’t like the policy, you should have changed it when you were Chief Warlock.”

Saul said, “Minister Bones specifically ordered that you never get a newspaper, not even second-hand. She was quoted as saying, ‘That man loved to keep everyone else ignorant, so it’s only fair that he be kept ignorant.’ I think she realised it’s harder for you to scheme if you don’t know what is happening.”

“What has been happening?” Albus demanded. “Tell me.”

Saul said, “Let’s see. Hogwarts has new people, new classes, and they come down hard on bullying. Seventh-years who were caught bullying have been expelled. No second chances there now.”

“No, that is horrid! How can they be turned back to the light if they are expelled?”

Nymphadora snapped, “How can the lower-years feel safe if punishment for bullies never goes beyond writing lines, hm? You were in charge of a school, you bloody pillock, not a church.”

Saul grinned. “When Hogwarts upgraded their wards—which basically were worthless when you were headmaster—the animagus-ward caught Rita Skeeter. She spent a year in the low-security wing of yonder stone hotel, then she wrote a book.”

Grinning Saul pulled a tiny book from his pocket, enlarged it with his red wand, then handed the book to Albus. “I bought this copy just so I can watch your face when you see the cover.”

The book was The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore: Biography of a Deceiver by Rita Skeeter, research by H J Granger.

Albus opened the book to a random page—

“When Dumbledore was a sixth-year Gryffindor in 1898, he checked out from the library Mind-Manipulation Magics. He never returned the book to the library. In 1991, when Minerva McGonagall became acting headmistress, she found the book in a draw in the headmaster’s desk. It’s obvious to me, dear reader, how Dumbledore made use of the book.”

Albus slammed the book shut, then tossed Skeeter’s book over the side.

Saul said cheerfully, “Wizarding Britain considers you a disgrace, Dumbledore. Nobody calls you ‘the Leader of the Light’ anymore. Now they think of you more like Gilderoy Lockhart with a beard.”

Then Saul said, “I also brought this to show you.” Saul pulled from his pocket a prophecy-sphere.

****

The frozen smoke inside the round glass of the prophecy-sphere was dark; Albus understood what this meant.

Saul said, “The reason I came on this boat ride today, Dumbledore, is to give you a message: Voldemort is dead, so the prophecy is fulfilled. Leave Harry Potter the bloody hell alone!”

“Saul my boy, I am afraid I cannot do that—even if the prophecy is fulfilled, which I doubt.”

****

One second later

Nymphadora asked, “What prophecy are you talking about, Director?”

Albus turned to her and replied, “Nymphadora my dear, I am afraid you are not yet old enough and mature enough—”

From behind Albus came Sybill’s voice: “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...”

Then Saul explained to Nymphadora, “The Dark Lord was Voldemort, the ‘one with the power to vanquish’ him is Harry Potter and the prophecy was fulfilled in November 1991, four days after Dumbledore here went to prison.”

Albus said, “Voldemort has tricked you, Saul. He still lives; and the only way he can die is if Harry sacrifices himself.”

“Nonsense,” Saul stated. “Because you can’t fool a prophecy-sphere, number one. Also because I myself saw Voldemort die, number two. It’s also nonsense because I saw Harry kill Voldemort when the rest of us Unspeakables couldn’t, number three. Number four, the horcrux—”

“Saul! Be silent!”

“—in Harry’s scar was removed by the goblins, so there’s no need for Harry to sacrifice himself for anyone or anything.”

“So you claim. I do not believe it.”

“Merlin, Albus, are you even slightly capable of even thinking the words ‘I might be wrong’? Harry doesn’t need to ‘nobly sacrifice himself,’ because the horcrux in Harry’s scar was destroyed by the goblins; and because Voldemort is dead, dead, dead. The only person saying ‘Harry needs to die’ is you!”

Albus paused to think. Then he asked, “Did Harry stun Voldemort, so the Dark Lord would not suffer when he died? Or did Harry go straight to killing him?”

“What do you think, Dumbledore? The wanker killed Potter’s parents. Do you think Harry would bother with a Stunning spell, or some other painless option? No, the Dark Lord died screaming, then to make sure the blighter was dead, Harry turned the Dark Lord’s entire body to grey ash.”

Albus shook his head. “Harry Potter truly has killed? And violated a corpse? He is turning Dark, or has already turned Dark. It would be so easy for him to become the next Dark Lord.”

“Aren’t you listening? Harry isn’t a Dark Lord in the making, he’s a hero! He has friends. Voldemort never had friends.”

“Tom at Hogwarts was charming. He recruited minions whom he lulled into believing that they were his friends.”

Saul threw up his hands. “Merlin, Dumbledore, how do I convince you to leave Harry alone?”

“You cannot, Saul. Even if today Harry is the hero you claim he is, it is such an easy step for him to become a Dark Lord. As soon as he loses his magical bindings, he will have power. Living with Lily’s sister has given Harry rage. He becoming a Dark Lord is only a matter of time, do you not see it? Do you not also see, Harry as a Dark Lord would be disastrous for Wizarding Britain?”

Albus turned his head to the side, seemingly watching water flow past the boat. As he watched the water, he murmured, hopefully too lowly for Saul or Nymphadora to hear—

“So for the Greater Good, I must kill Harry Potter soon, whilst I still can, even if he still is a ‘hero’ to the rest of you when he dies.”

****

Later during the boat ride

Albus asked Croaker, “My special wand, did you turn it over to the DMLE, or do you still have it?”

Croaker shrugged. “We never turned it over to the DMLE. But neither do we have it. After I took it from you, we put it in a miscellaneous-experiment room. But by the next day, it had disappeared; and I found a note on my desk that said, ‘We took it and gave it to someone we trust and you trust. Signed, the Three Fates.’ ”

“Do you have an idea to whom the Elder Wand was given?”

“Yes,” Saul said. Then rather than say more, Saul cruelly grinned at Albus.

But Saul had told Albus enough to answer the question. Harry has my Elder Wand.

****

After the boat ride

As soon as Nymphadora, Saul and Albus were back in the Ministry building, Saul Apparated away after telling Albus, “Leave Harry Potter alone! I mean it.”

Nymphadora took Albus to the Prisoner Property room within the DMLE, where Albus was given back what he had been wearing and carrying at the time of his arrest five years ago: his rainbow-coloured robes, his magical glasses, three Portkeys, the wand that Merrick Ollivander had sold Albus in 1892 and a second wand, which had originally belonged to a now-dead Muggle-born orphan.

Albus scowled, angry that his third wand, the Elder Wand, was gone. Albus would get the Elder Wand back—by fine dueling, hopefully; but since dueling probably would not work, by trickery.

What nobody except Albus knew was that, until Albus had looted the Elder Wand from Gellert Grindelwald, Albus had been only a mediocre duellist. His entire reputation of being a wizard of power who knew many obscure spells—this was all due to the Elder Wand. If Albus dueled the current Master of the Elder Wand, all this magical power and all this knowledge would work against Albus instead of for him.

This left only trickery as a way to get the Elder Wand. Fortunately, Albus had had decades to hone his image as a good, caring and wise wizard, and to perfect his half-truths and deceptions. Minerva McGonagall, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley, Daedalus Diggle and Elphias Doge all did what Albus wanted—and this was first achieved only by talking. (The mind-magics came later.)

If the current Master of the Elder Wand was Harry Potter, Albus was sure that once they met, Albus would trick the Elder Wand out of Harry’s hands within minutes.

****

Albus changed into his rainbow robes, then sticking-charmed his three Portkeys to those robes. Then Albus touched the tip of his wand to the Portkey that would take him to the headmaster’s office at Hogwarts.

Albus’s plan was to ask the headmistress (McGonagall) to call Harry out of class; once Harry was in the headmistress’s office, Albus would pull his “disappointed grandfather” act and would order Harry to surrender the Elder Wand.

(Once Albus had the Elder Wand back in his hand, he would send Harry back to class—after a bit of mind-rewriting—then Albus would Confundus Minerva into resigning her Headmistress position and transferring the position back to Albus.)

But when Albus activated his headmaster-office Portkey—

BAM!

—Albus felt like a muscular giant had thrown him against one of Hogwarts’s stone walls.

****

One second later

Albus was lying on grass in sunshine, and he hurt.

When he stood up, he discovered that he was outside the Hogwarts main gate. Normally for a visitor to Hogwarts, he would have to lay a hand on the magicked metal plate on the gate in order to call Hagrid, otherwise nobody would know he was here and nobody would let him in.

But Albus did not need to call for Hagrid today, to let people know the former Hogwarts headmaster was here. Just inside the gates were a group of adults, whilst beside them stood a group of robed students who Albus judged were sixth-years.

The adults and students on the Hogwarts grounds were already in place and all were looking at Albus, as if they were expecting him. Albus wondered, How can this be?

Front and centre in the mob of adults were two sitting adults (Pomona Sprout and a man whom Albus did not recognise), whilst the other adults were standing. Amongst the standing adults were Minerva, Filius, Sirius, Alastor and Andromeda; some of the other adults, Albus did not recognise. If the adults are Hogwarts professors, Albus wondered, why is Severus not amongst them?

Sirius was eating something that was served in a small paper bag. When Sirius was not chewing, he was smirking at Albus.

Albus could not at first guess why sixteen-year-old students would be standing nearby—until he did the maths, and realised that these students must be Harry’s yearmates. The bushy-haired girl was Granger, with something on the right sleeve of her robes. Albus could not recall her first name, or what was on her right sleeve. In the mob of students, Albus saw Granger and three other Gryffindors, three Hufflepuffs and four Slytherins; along with a blond-haired Ravenclaw girl whom Albus did not recognise.

Oddly, neither Ronald nor Ginevra Weasley was a part of Harry’s group of friends. This was especially odd, since Harry was betrothed to Miss Weasley. Also odd: neither was Draco Malfoy present amongst Harry’s friends. Surely Mr Malfoy had returned to the light by now and Harry had forgiven him his misdeeds.

Meanwhile, the stranger-man who was sitting next to Pomona—Why is he sitting, Albus wondered, instead of offering his seat to Minerva?—asked, “You are Albus Dumbledore, the released prisoner?” The man spoke with an American accent.

Albus did not even look at the American man. “I was imprisoned due to a misunderstanding. Minerva, let me in—it’s urgent I talk to Harry.”

Glaring Minerva yelled, “Albus, you believe I’m the headmistress here? Thanks to you, I’m not! The Board of Governors decided I was too close to you, so they stripped me of my acting-headmistress position and my deputy-headmistress position, and I already had hired Sirius to be Gryffindor Head of House. So now I’m the Transfiguration professor only—and the only reason the Board let me keep that post is because I’m clearly good at it, so they overlooked your taint!”

Albus turned to look at the only witch who was sitting down. “Who is the Head of Hogwarts? You, Pomona?”

The American man asked Pomona loudly, “Does he always address everyone he knows with familiarity?”

Pomona answered him, “He does. Hope that Albus never meets Her Majesty—the results would not be pretty.”

The American man looked at Albus and said, “Professor Sprout is deputy headmistress. I am Headmaster Kellner, and I say: You may not enter. I warn you, the wards have been upgraded since you were here ruining the school.”

As usual, when Albus did not like hearing something, he ignored it. “I insist you let me in, so I can talk to Harry Potter. It is urgent I talk to Harry.”

Granger said, “Harry isn’t with us, as you can plainly see through your magical spy-glasses.”

Albus said, “Then where in the castle is he?”

Granger said, grinning impudently at Albus, “He wasn’t in the Great Hall or in the Gryffindor common room an hour ago. Nev?”

“Probably not in the greenhouses, but I could be wrong,” said a surprisingly confident-looking Neville Longbottom. “Hannah? Susan? Justin?”

Albus was alarmed. Susan Bones? Amelia Bones’s niece is here? I need to be careful!

A girl whose yellow robes were matched by yellow hair replied, “No, Harry wasn’t been in the ’Puff common room when I was there today. But later, who knows? Blaise? Daphne?”

A dark-skinned Slytherin boy grinned at Albus. “Harry probably isn’t in our common room now; but he told me once that he likes our decor.”

A beautiful Slytherin girl with black hair said, “If Harry isn’t in the Great Hall, he’s maybe busy in a restroom stall; or sitting, freezing, on a wall. Maybe Harry is in Potions lab, learning how to cook. Maybe he’s in the library, reading an old, old book. Maybe Slyth’rin’s Chamber, the dark place we were took. But you hurt Harry, so don’t you ask me to look.”

Albus snapped, “You children are taking the mickey out of me! Your answers do not tell me where Harry is.”

Minerva said, “It’s annoying, isn’t it, Albus, to be given ‘answers’ that contain no useful information? Now you know what the rest of us suffered through.”

The blond-haired Ravenclaw said dreamily, “Where is Harry Potter? He is right where he needs to be at this moment. In one minute, Albus Percival Dumbledore, you’ll find out where Harry is.”

Headmaster Kellner said, “Let me repeat, Dumbledore: I refuse to let you enter Hogwarts. The wards will hurt you if you try to sneak into Hogwarts. Mr Potter’s friends refuse to tell you where Harry is. You have no reason to stay here any longer; so leave, sir.”

“I will not! The girl over there said that I will learn where Harry is in one minute.”

Albus heard what sounded like a snake-hiss, close to his right. Then a teenaged boy’s voice said, “Good news for you, has-been: The minute is up.”

****

Even as Albus was rushing to spin a quarter-turn and to draw his old wand, Harry Potter was leaping back away, with his own wand already drawn and pointing at Albus.

And not just any wand! Albus put on his “disappointed grandfather” face and said, “Harry, you have my wand. I insist you give it back.”

“The Elder Wand is yours, has-been? Like my family Invisibility Cloak is yours? Like the gold in my trust vault is yours? If you think I’m handing the Elder Wand over to you, you’re mad or stupid.”

Then Harry’s face turned sly. “But you’re right to feel concern, has-been. This wand gives me an unfair advantage. So let’s make the fight sporting.”

So saying, Harry took an end of the Elder Wand in each hand and snapped the wand in two.

Crack!

The two pieces of the centuries-old wand fell to the ground.

By the time Albus got over his shock, Harry had rushed to draw a boring, ordinary holly-wood wand, which again was pointed at Albus.

A puff of wind momentarily blew Harry’s bangs back, which showed his forehead. Albus choked.

Albus asked, “Harry, how have you glamoured your scar? Glamours normally don’t work on cursed wounds.”

“You talking about the horcrux in my scar? Amelia Bones told the goblins to take it out five years ago. I have to wonder, has-been, why did you never get it removed?” Harry sneered, “After all, you had hold of my Gringotts key.”

“Harry my boy—”

“Do you remember these words, has-been? Words you spoke less than an hour ago? ‘So for the Greater Good, I must kill Harry Potter soon, whilst I still can, even if he still is a “hero” to the rest of you when he dies.’ You want to kill me? Here I am.”

Albus heard the professors and Harry’s friends all gasp.

Albus needed information. “Harry, how do you know I spoke those words? Did Saul tell you? Did Nymphadora?”

Only too late did the thought occur to Albus: Minerva is listening; I should have denied saying that. Bollocks!

Harry didn’t answer; instead, he hissed. As Albus blinked in shock, an orange spell shot approximately towards him. Albus suspected that the miss was deliberate.

“Parsel magic, Harry? You have fallen to the Dark!”

Harry laughed scornfully. “If so, then my mum got there first. The one-time ‘Gryffindor princess’ spoke to a snake-painting as a sixth-year.”

Albus was shocked to hear this—how had the portraits in the castle not reported this event to Albus when it had happened?

Nobody now in the audience of professors and sixth-years sounded surprised that Harry was a Parselmouth who had a Parselmouth mother. Which meant that Albus could not manipulate Harry by using shame or guilt; unlike Remus Lupin and Severus Snape, whom Albus always could lead around by the nose.

Harry hissed again, and his wand fired the orange spell again—in a more on-target direction than the first spell. Albus had to twist his body to the side for the second Parseltongue spell to miss.

Now Harry’s wand was pointed at Albus’s chest, and the boy had one eyebrow raised. Meaning: My next spell won’t miss.

Harry grinned at Albus and said, “You know what Professor Moody always says to me? Other than ‘Constant vigilance’? Never mind, Professor Moody says you haven’t listened to him in decades. But he gives great advice. Like...”

Harry hissed, and an aqua-coloured spell flew towards Albus. Quickly Albus threw up a shield, with much magical power, to stop the unknown threat. Zzap. Harry immediately launched the aqua-coloured spell again, which hit Albus’s shield again. Zzap. In retaliation, Albus fired off an Depulso Extremni, intending to knock Harry back forty feet.

Before Albus’s spell reached Harry, the boy hissed up a shield—except the shield was transparent blue, which Albus never had seen before. Albus’s Depulso hit the blue shield—blurp—but instead of the blue shield absorbing Albus’s spell as expected, the blue shield bounced the Depulso back to Albus.

Albus’s own shield had to work to absorb the Depulso spell that he himself had cast, plus Albus’s shield also had to block Harry’s third aqua-coloured spell (which Harry sent right after his shield reflected the Depulso).

Albus tried every spell he could think of (except for Dark spells and Unforgivables) against Harry. When Albus cast this variety of spells, he hoped that one of the new spells would penetrate the blue shield or would weaken the blue shield. Alas, Albus saw no sign that the blue shield was about to collapse; worse, Albus was forced to dodge his own ever-more dangerous spells when they were reflected back.

Meanwhile, Harry was casting orange and aqua spells at Albus, which Albus had to powerfully shield against if he could not dodge them.

The boy looked calm and unworried. Albus doubted his “Do I look worried?” air was fake.

Because Albus had to put up a powerful magical shield again and again, and because he was casting powerful offensive spells (all of which were wasted), his magical core was beginning to ache, and he felt lightheaded. This was worrying.

“Wasserkugel,” Albus murmured as he cast. Enclosing Harry in a floating globe of water probably would not drown the boy, but it would finally put Harry on the back foot so that Albus could go on the offensive.

But that damnable blue shield reflected the globe of water back, so that it was Albus who was in danger of drowning. “Nichts!” Albus yelled as he fearfully cast the counterspell. The oncoming globe of water vanished before it reached Albus.

Albus said, “Harry my boy, using a shield-spell that reflects all my spells back to me is unfair.”

The green-eyed boy replied, “You put me with the Dursleys. You deserve unfair.” So saying, Harry shot another orange-coloured spell at Albus—then another, then another, angled so that Albus would need to be a sprinter or a house-elf to dodge them all.

Zzap, zzap. Albus’s powerful shield held, but just barely. Soon he would be at Harry’s mercy—and the boy’s words about the Dursleys told Albus that he could expect no mercy.

Albus risked casting the Disarming Charm at Harry, hoping that the result would not be Albus suffering his own wand snatched from his grip. Zzap—the blue shield did not reflect Albus’s Expelliarmus—this was the good news. The bad news? Harry still had his holly wand.

Harry said, “I’ve suspected for a while, has-been, that all of your fame as a powerful wizard was because you had the Elder Wand as a magic-booster. Now, without it? Truly, you’re pathetic. Any of my sixth-year friends over there would make me work harder to win, because Professor Moody has been riding all our arses for the last five years.”

So saying, Harry cast two pairs of orange spells at Albus, who now was too winded to dodge them all. One orange spell (from the first pair) made Albus’s shield collapse. The second orange spell (from the second pair) hit now-unprotected Albus, and Albus—

“Hee-hee, hee-hee-hee, hee-hee...”

—laughed uncontrollably till the spell wore off. Then Albus snapped, “Harry my boy, you have been shooting a Tickling Charm at me?”

“A Parseltongue Tickling Charm, alternating with a Parseltongue Leg-Locker Curse. But since you didn’t recognise the spell-colours, you had to shield as though I were shooting Bombardas. This used up your magic faster. Thank Professor Moody for the idea, the next time you talk to him. Anyway, it looks to me like you’re now defenceless.”

Then Harry grinned cruelly—

“Acer Dorsus! Acer Dorsus! Acer Dorsus!” Harry cast three plain (non-Parseltongue) Stinging Hexes at Albus. Albus tried to sidestep them. Two hexes missed, one hex hit, and that one Stinging Hex hurt.

Harry said, “Anyway, let’s discuss your surrender. Otherwise, you’re defenceless and I’m angry at you.”

Albus was silent for a time before he asked, “What are your terms?”

Harry replied, “You swear an Oath on your magic, the following—”

Harry pulled a half-foot of parchment from a pocket, then read aloud, “One, you’ll never send me a message by owl or by phoenix. Two, you’ll avoid Hogwarts and Hogsmeade for the next two years. Three, you’ll avoid any place where you know I’m at for as long as you know I’m there. Four, if you discover you’ve unknowingly come to the same place I’m at, you’ll magically leave that place within five seconds. Five, you’ll never attempt to kill me or to induce someone else to kill me.”

“Harry my boy, you must be reasonable. My brother’s pub is in Hogsmeade.”

“But everyone knows the two of you aren’t close. In any case, you still can owl him, and you two can still meet up at Dumbledore Manor.”

“Its correct name is Dumbledore House. Harry, how about, instead of your unreasonable Oath—”

“Acer Dorsus! Acer Dorsus!” Harry incanted.

Now Albus was hit by two more Stinging Hexes. Oww! Each of these new, more powerful Stinging Hexes would leave a welt, Albus was sure.

Harry growled, “I’m waiting on your Oath, has-been, or else.”

Albus was desperate. He no longer had magic enough to erect a powerful shield, but he still could cast spells that were less magically draining.

Desperate Albus decided to take a hostage, for the Greater Good.

Abruptly Albus turned to face the group of sixth-years who were Harry’s friends. He pointed his wand and cast, “Accio Miss Granger.”

****

With a startled cry, Miss Granger flew towards Albus.

The stone wall on either side of the front gate was only four feet tall. The wall mainly served as a message to Muggles: Intruder, beyond this wall is land that belongs to someone who is not you.

Albus intended for Miss Granger to rise up high enough to miss the low wall; but with Albus’s depleted magic, he was not able to give the girl enough lift.

The lower third of Miss Granger’s moving body smashed into the wall at high speed.

Cr-cr-crack!

When Miss Granger fell onto the grass next to Albus, she was screaming; and her legs and feet below her uniform skirt were a ruin. With the girl now only a few feet away from Albus, the “Potter protectée” crest on the right sleeve of her robes could not be missed.

Albus realised he had made a disastrous mistake.

The professors were chattering about what to do now—whilst talking about Albus as if he were a rabid beast—but Albus was not worried about any of them except Kellner.

Panic-filled Albus looked in Harry’s direction, to see the boy’s reaction. But Albus could not see Harry at all.

Albus felt fear of death. Where is Harry? I cannot see him, even with my enchanted glasses. Did he silently Apparate away? Is he hiding under his father’s Invisibility Cloak, after he removed the detection-charms I put on the Cloak? Did Harry cast some Parseltongue spell that makes him invisible, silent and scentless? WHERE IS HE? Is he angry enough to kill me?

A second later, Albus’s wand was yanked out of his hand and flew away to land on the grass. Albus heard a hiss close behind him, then suddenly all his voluntary muscles decided to remain where they were. Harry had turned Albus into a living mannequin.

Albus’s involuntary muscles worked just fine; Albus pissed his robes. He figured he had less than a minute to live.

Hiss. Harry suddenly appeared in front of the unmoving Albus. “You dishonourable, despicable, immoral—bugger, I need Hermione to give me the words to describe you!”

Harry then ran his hands all over Albus’s body in a quick and businesslike way. The boy yanked Albus’s other wand out of his pocket and flung it away. Albus was defenceless.

Meanwhile, Harry was looking towards the professors. “Please take Hermione to the hospital wing now. She’s in agony because of this goat-fucker.”

A stretcher was conjured or transfigured, then still-screaming Miss Granger was laid on it. Albus heard Sirius say to Minerva (over Hermione’s screams), “Will you stay with Hermione in the hospital wing? Yes, I’m Hermione’s Head of House, but I truly think Harry will kill the fool if I’m not here.”

The American headmaster-usurper created a Portkey, which was laid on Miss Granger, then Minerva touched the Portkey. The stretcher, the injured girl and Minerva all disappeared.

Sirius said, “Harry, before you act further, there are things you need to know.”

“Like what?” Harry’s tone said, Don’t even try to talk me out of hurting this monster.

Sirius spoke calmly: “I’m your guardian, so if Dumbledore had hurt you, I could deal with him. But you’re the Potter Head of House, though underage, and Hermione is your protectée; the tosser’s punishment is for you to decide. I’d advise you not to kill Dumbles, mainly because I think ending his life would lessen Hermione’s admiration for you.”

Harry turned to look at Albus. “I haven’t forgotten that you intend to kill me. Since clearly you have no scruples, which means there is nothing you won’t do, then the only limit on your actions is what you can’t do. So be it.”

Diffindo-Incendio—Harry cut off Albus’s wand-hand (right hand) completely, an inch above the wrist; then Harry cauterised the cut. Albus wanted to scream, both from the physical agony and from the knowledge that the hand could not be reattached. But alas, Albus’s paralysis stopped him from screaming.

Harry looked in Albus’s eyes and said, “But you might teach yourself how to cast with your off-hand—meaning that Hermione and I and our future children still are in danger from you. I won’t let you endanger us.”

Diffindo-Incendio—this time, Albus lost his left hand as well. How could he live without hands? He was stumped.

“Admirable restraint, pup,” Sirius said to Harry.

Then Harry said to Albus, “Now, I admit I’m not worried about you holding a wand in your teeth and attacking me this way. Still, so long as you have a magical core, you’re a potential danger to the Potter family.” Then Harry’s face showed anger: “Back in 1981, you put core-blocks on me and on Neville, so obviously you have no qualms about limiting another wizard’s magical power. But now I won’t merely limit your magical power.”

Harry backed up about fifteen or twenty feet away, with his wand pointed at Albus the entire time. Then Harry said, in Albus’s own sad-grandfather tones, “Albus my boy, what I do now, I do for the Greater Good.”

Harry hissed. A white ball grew out of Harry’s wand and flew towards Albus; as the ball came closer, it grew bigger. Halfway between Harry and Albus, the white ball turned black. The black ball kept moving towards Albus and kept growing.

Then the black ball hit Albus in the chest. Sluuurp! Albus felt himself losing magic quickly enough to make him dizzy.

Harry said, “Since you’re already magically exhausted, has-been, this won’t take long.”

Now Albus saw that there was a magical cable running between the black ball and Harry’s wand. The Albus-half of the cable was black; the Harry-half of the cable was white. After a minute of magic-draining that Albus could not stop, the black ball and the black/white cable both vanished.

Harry hissed, and Albus could move again.

“Look at Hogwarts, has-been,” Harry said.

Albus turned round to look at the castle. He saw only the ruins that Muggles saw. I am a Muggle now! Albus felt despair as awful as when he had watched Ariana die.

Harry said, “For you, who is now magicless, time is short. I suggest you make out a will—and hope that nobody seals your will after you die. You really should have made the Oath I asked for, then left here and never seen me again—but nooo, you still think you know better than us mere mortals.”

****

The next day (Saturday, 9th November 1996)
In the Hogwarts hospital wing

Hermione’s bones still were regrowing, so she was still Madam Pomfrey’s “guest.” After breakfast, all of Harry’s and Hermione’s friends were visiting the injured girl.

Justin said to Harry, “I was amazed by the spells you cast against Dumbledore—I’ve never seen spells like those before. Where did you dig them up?”

Harry replied, “Back in September, I walked into Slytherin’s Library with two Seers—Lavender and Luna—and with research-marvel Hermione. The Seers found the books, even though the books all were in Parseltext, so neither witch had any idea about what the book actually said that she was handing me. I conjured English-language translations of the books that L&L pulled from the shelves, then Hermione found amazing spells in the conjured translations. With the help of those three witches, it was amazing what spells we found!”

Hermione and Lavender blushed, and Luna kissed Harry on the cheek.

Meanwhile, Blaise, Daphne, Tracey and Millicent high-fived each other because their Founder had invented (or at least had recorded) the spells that Harry had used yesterday.

Harry then said, “Lavender and Luna also Saw Dumbledore showing up outside the gate yesterday. They predicted down to the minute when the has-been would arrive. It was Sirius’s idea to gather everyone just inside the gate to watch the show. With Dumbledore involved, Sirius was sure that whatever happened afterwards would be a circus.”

Tracey Davis asked, “Do you regret turning Dumbledore into a Squib?”

Harry replied, “Correction: I turned him into a Muggle. My choices were doing that, or I Avada-ing him.”

Everyone except Hermione stared open-mouthed at Harry.

He explained, “Normally I don’t hate people—I didn’t even hate Snape. But when Dumbledore made Hermione scream, I wanted the bearded blighter dead.”

Chapter Text

After the Dumbledore Duel

When Harry removed Albus’s magic, Albus was 115 years old. The few Muggles who lived to be 115 all followed a healthy lifestyle. Albus had not lived a healthy lifestyle for even one day since 1st September 1892, when the Welcoming Feast had been presented to Albus the Gryffindor firstie.

****

One week after the duel (Friday, 15th November 1996)

Albus Dumbledore died when the crone cut his thread. His unique thread-colour in the Tapestry of Life became Day-Glo pink.

The autopsy ruled that he had died of massive organ failure.

Albus’s scowling brother Aberforth was the only person present at Albus’s funeral.

The Spirit of Hogwarts decreed that no bloody way would former headmaster Dumbledore be given the honour of a posthumous headmaster-portrait, even a nonmagical one.

****

Albus found himself in a whited-out version of the Hogwarts headmaster’s office. Waiting there were James and Lily Potter, who were furious with him. Albus discovered that the door was locked—he could not escape the Potters screaming at him and hitting him.

After an hour of James and Lily hurting Albus enough to draw blood, a black phoenix with glowing red eyes flamed into the room. The bird landed on Albus’s shoulder—the claws’ grip was painful—then the black phoenix flamed Albus to his next great adventure—

—which was neither great, nor an adventure. Instead, the next part of Albus’s life was hot, painful and eternal.

****

The next day (Saturday, 16th November 1996)

The wizards and witches of the Gold Thirteen went on a Hogsmeade weekend—though such a thing was not the rare privilege it had been during the Dumbledore years. In 1991, Headmaster Kellner had declared a new Hogsmeade policy: Any Hogwarts student, second-year or older, could go to Hogsmeade on any weekend whilst Hogwarts was in session, unless a parent had written a letter to the headmaster denying their child permission to go.

So far as Hermione knew, no parent had been mean enough to do this.

Anyway, today Harry and Hermione were on a date. Also on a date: the betrothed couple of Lavender and Justin, whom Lavender called “Juice-Juice.” (This second pairing was obvious in hindsight. Justin was by far the richest Muggle-born in their year, and one day would become the Earl of Grenforst in nonmagical Britain; whilst Lavender was the sexiest-looking—and sexiest-moving—witch in their year.)

Right now, somewhere in Hogsmeade was Daphne Greengrass, who was currently the subject of much gossip. During the summer prior to Daphne’s sixth year, Sam Flint (the younger brother of deceased Marcus Flint) had written Cyrus Greengrass that he wished to become betrothed to Lord Greengrass’s elder daughter. Such a letter had been a violation of custom. (Harry, as Head of House Flint, should have written the letter.) Cyrus had asked Daphne what she thought about Sam Flint’s letter; Daphne had told her father, “I’d sooner marry Harry Potter’s broom than marry a Flint!” Cyrus’s reply-letter to Mr Flint had been more polite than his daughter’s words, but no more encouraging.

Anyway, now the gorgeous Daphne was unattached. She was known to send longing glances towards Neville Longbottom—who was flattered by Daphne’s interest, but who was much more smitten with Hannah Abbott. Today, Daphne was on another Hogsmeade date with Blaise Zabini—a dark-skinned and mysterious wizard who excited many Hogwarts witches. Hermione was no Seer, unlike Lavender and Luna, but Hermione predicted that Daphne and Blaise would marry.

****

A quick Floo-walk inside the Three Broomsticks, in Hogsmeade, and Harry and Hermione were inside the Leaky Cauldron, in London. A little more walking, and Harry and Hermione were in Diagon Alley. They walked straight to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.

On the front window of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes was a big sign in pink and purple, “Opening 1st December!”

(This being Fred and George’s sign, the pink and purple alternated every second, which colour was the foreground colour and which was the background colour. For Hermione, the sign made her eyeballs want to melt.)

Harry knocked on the locked door. Fred answered, scowling till he saw who his visitors were. Once Harry and Hermione were inside the shop (they had to step round a stack of boxes that were just inside the door), Fred gave the couple a tour of the mostly bare shop, then went off to fetch George. George and Hermione got into a technical discussion about toad hearts versus frog hearts, when used in potions.

Meanwhile, Fred, as soon as he had locked the front door, had yelled, “Ron! Come get these boxes like I told you!” Now, as Hermione and George were discussing potions and Harry was listening in, Ron walked up from the back of the shop.

Ron scowled at Hermione and Harry, but said nothing. Because Ron’s wand had been snapped, Ron had to carry the stack of boxes like a nonmagical man, one box at a time.

Seeing Ron work, Hermione realised: He looks ... my oh my. Ron was tall now, and broad-shouldered. His arms had muscle, and his stomach was flat. If he were to smile the mischievous smile of which Ron was capable—though Hermione had never seen this smile directed at her, only at Romilda Vane—then Ron Weasley today would be sexy.

At last, Hermione understood.

Since October 1991, Hermione often had wondered about her prophecy, Why did I need to be told this? Ronald Weasley was a collection of faults and vices, and much dislikable besides; why did Hermione need to be warned, “Don’t marry him”? But now, a small, primitive part of Hermione’s brain said, A wedding night with Ron would be fun.

But then Hermione glanced away from Ron to look at Harry. Hermione thought, A wedding night with Harry will be much more fun.

****

A bit over eight months later
Thursday, 31st July 1997 (Harry’s seventeenth birthday)

Harry, Hermione and Sirius went to Gringotts. Harry claimed his Lord Potter ring.

Then Harry declared all seventeen of his Right of Conquest Houses (including Slytherin and Gaunt) to be extinct. Meaning, Harry would acknowledge no already-appointed heir to any of these Houses, Harry himself would appoint no heir, and after Harry died, nobody could claim Lordship of any of these houses.

****

Not quite five weeks later
Tuesday, 2nd September 1997
(Almost) the start of Harry’s and Hermione’s seventh year
Hogwarts SOW&W, Slytherin’s Library

After putting a cushioning charm on the conference table, Hermione offered Harry her virginity, there on the table in Slytherin’s Library.

To honour the Founder in whose library Hermione was making love for the first time, Hermione’s bra and knickers each were green-and-silver.

Once Hermione had been deflowered and both she and Harry had climaxed, the couple cleaned off the table; then the lovers walked into Slytherin’s suite.

In Salazar’s bed, Harry and Hermione made love for the rest of the night. She showed Harry once again that she was an advance-planner and a determined researcher—in short, Hermione melted Harry’s socks.

The next morning Hermione, with a brassy smile, handed Professor Flitwick an incomplete essay—her first.

****

Ten and a half months later
About a fortnight after Harry and Hermione finished seventh year and sat their NEWTs
Saturday, 18th July 1998

Harry and Hermione got married. Their magical wedding was at Hogwarts—in the “troll lavatory.” Their nonmagical wedding was at Saint George Church of England in Crawley.

For both weddings, the eleven other members of the Gold Thirteen were pressed into service as bridesmaids and as groomsmen/ushers.

At both weddings’ wedding breakfast/wedding reception, Hermione wore the gold-and-red RIR pin that Harry had given her on her thirteenth birthday, almost six years ago.

Dobby the house-elf made sure that his “Great Miss Hermininny Grangy Ma’am” looked perfect for her weddings.

One of the couple’s first invitees to the Hogwarts wedding was Rita Skeeter. Skeeter had given Hermione her first paying job, back in December 1992.

Other early invitees to the Hogwarts wedding: Director Croaker, Unspeakable Twenty-Two and Unspeakable Sixty-Five.

****

The next day (Sunday, 19th July 1998)
In a hotel room in Ibiza

On the morning after the Potters’ wedding night, Harry handed Hermione a small bottle of Joy™ Dishwashing Liquid.

“What’s this for?” Hermione asked. “I see no dirty dishes here.”

“Put a splash of it in your bathwater. Remember your prophecy? You’ve married me, so now the prophecy promises ‘you will bathe in joy.’ ”

****

Other weddings within the Gold Thirteen quickly followed the Potter wedding, except Luna had to wait a year.

As Hermione had predicted, Blaise and Daphne married each other (to Hannah Abbott’s relief).

The Justin-Lavender wedding was written up in the London Times.

****

About a fortnight later
Monday, 3rd August 1998

When the Potters returned to Wizarding Britain from their honeymoon, they discovered that the Daily Prophet’s front page had a story about Harry Potter—but not a story like Harry and Hermione were expecting.

Saul Croaker had, almost seven years late, reported a major news story.

HARRY POTTER IS NO LONGER A SECRET HERO

by Saul Croaker, Director, Department of Mysteries, Ministry of Magic

Almost seven years ago, on 12th November 1991, all Death Eaters suddenly screamed and dropped dead at the same time. Some of the Dark Marked wizards were Heads of House, and their Houses were awarded to Harry Potter, then aged eleven, by “Right of Conquest.” Why Potter was awarded their Houses was never explained—after all, it was never the case that any Dark Mark-tattooed Head of House began a duel with Harry Potter but lost, yet Magic acted as if this were what had happened. Young Potter also was given House Slytherin and House Gaunt by Right of Conquest, but had not those two Houses died out before Harry Potter even was born?

Also in November 1991, rumours came out of Hogwarts that Voldemort was involved somehow in the Death Eaters’ deaths, even though the Dark Lord supposedly had died in 1981; that Harry Potter and Voldemort had fought a magical battle; and that Harry somehow had killed Voldemort. But back in 1991, those who knew the facts were keeping silent; and Harry Potter was keeping silent most of all.

So what truly happened on 12th November 1991?

To explain what happened in 1991, I must go back ten years to Halloween 1981. We all think we know the story: Voldemort killed James Potter and Lily Potter, and tried to kill their fifteen-month-old son Harry. We know that the Killing Curse was cast on the boy. But what happened next is a mystery. Voldemort’s robes and wand were left behind, but his body disappeared. Harry Potter survived the Killing Curse, but with a lightning-bolt scar on his forehead, even though the Killing Curse never marks its victims (or leaves them alive).

I still do not know, and cannot guess, how Harry Potter survived the Killing Curse, but I know what happened to Voldemort: He did not die. Instead, he became a wraith for a time.

Voldemort kept himself from dying in 1981 by means of evil magic (which I shall not describe). We Unspeakables did what we could to stop the evil magic, but we could not stop Voldemort. According to a prophecy, only Harry Potter could stop the Dark Lord.

On 12th November 1991, at age eleven, Harry Potter fulfilled the prophecy: After a frightening battle that I witnessed, Harry Potter killed forever, Voldemort a.k.a Tom Marvolo Riddle. When Voldemort died, everyone who bore the Dark Mark died at the same time.

For your information, Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as Voldemort, was the son of a Squib witch, Merope Gaunt, and a love-potioned Muggle, Tom Riddle. When Voldemort died, he was Head of House Gaunt and Head of House Slytherin.

I have talked to Harry, and he thinks his fame as the toddler destroyer of Voldemort is all undeserved. Harry thinks it was his mother Lily who wraithed the Dark Lord on Halloween night, 1981. I have spent enough time near Lily Evans Potter that this explanation is much more believable to me than most other explanations I have heard for that night’s events.

But even if Harry Potter was not the magical person who destroyed Voldemort when Harry was one year old, Harry deserves praise and fame at age eleven as the vanquisher of Voldemort and as the conqueror of Death Eaters. Thank you for saving all of us in Magical Britain, Harry Potter.

When Harry, not at all calmly, asked Croaker why he had outed Harry when Harry had wanted no such thing, Croaker replied, “Remember the other prophecy about you? This prophecy says that if Hermione marries you, you both will achieve greatness. Harry, the first step for you to achieve greatness is to be rightly famous as the slayer of Voldemort.”

Hermione argued that Croaker was right. She convinced Harry that he and she do a joint interview with Rita Skeeter. The press-averse Boy Who Lived should use this interview to end all the false rumours about him that had been floating about since 1981, and to tell Wizarding Britain what his life was truly like.

****

Soon afterwards, in the Daily Prophet offices

Rita Skeeter had, since 1991, owled Harry Potter every few months, asking him for an interview. Those notes to him from her always had been ignored. Today, before Rita could send Harry Potter another such note, she received a note saying, “Harry and Hermione invite you to meet with them at Potter Manor and to discuss his life. Tea will be served. Your Quick-Quotes Quill is not invited.” Rita recognised the handwriting as belonging to her one-time research assistant, Hermione Granger-Potter.

****

Rita spent her workdays talking to, and writing about, liars, braggarts and greedy bastards. She could name only a few people in Wizarding Britain who held her respect, but the witch formerly named Granger was one of those few. Because of this respect, Rita agreed to Hermione’s terms.

Rita was sure that Hermione in 1998 had no idea what the thirteen-year-old Hermione had done to earn such respect, on the day in December 1992 when Rita had interviewed Hogwarts students in order to hire one of them as her research assistant—

Hermione had told Rita, “...So Lavender, Parvati and I heard a lock click, then a door slam, then the troll burst in. I was so scared, I screamed, along with Lavender and Parvati. Then I was still scared, but I started thinking...”

Stop the presses! A girl in Gryffindor, the House of the brave, had admitted to once being scared? A minute later, Rita had offered the position of research assistant to Miss Granger, surely to the disappointment of all the Ravenclaws who had thought they were better qualified than a second-year Gryffindor girl.

Once Rita and Hermione had become employer and employee, Hermione had never disappointed Rita. Hermione had never tried to renegotiate their agreement or to shirk her work. Indeed, Rita had been amazed by the hidden gems that Hermione had uncovered, in the form of old and yellowed parchments that each had Albus Dumbledore’s name on them somewhere.

****

On the day of Rita’s interview with the Potters
Early August, 1998

Once Rita had arrived at Potter Manor and the interview was about to start, Rita was amused to see her protégée visibly relax, once the trio entered the Potter Library. The three took seats at a large table in the library—

—and on the table was a pensieve. Harry Potter was threatening Rita, but it was a threat artfully done. (Rita suspected that leaving a pensieve in sight during the interview was Hermione’s idea.) Lucius Malfoy and Albus Dumbledore each had threatened Rita at least once; their threats had been heavy-handed.

The Boy Who Lived need not have worried about Rita word-painting him as a bad person. Until and unless Hermione Potter spoke a divorce declaration against Harry Potter, Rita Skeeter was resolved that she would not write one nasty word about Harry Potter.

Lucius Malfoy had been smooth when he had talked to Rita, and Albus Dumbledore had been smooth too. This was one of the reasons that Rita had distrusted both wizards—anyone who could talk so well could lie well. In contrast, when Harry Potter spoke to Rita in his library, some of his words were stammered, hesitant, brutal and honest—raw. Sometimes the only reason Harry Potter could speak a painful sentence aloud was because Hermione was hugging him and she was speaking to him quietly and calmly.

When Rita returned to her desk at the Daily Prophet office, she knew she had the words for a world-class news story. But more than this, she had met a hero today, and tomorrow her readers would meet the hero she had met.

Harry Potter was a hero not because he lived in a palace and had battled a village of vampires when he had been five years old, as those silly books had claimed. No, Harry Potter was a true hero because when he was eleven years old, he came face-to-face with the Dark Lord and nobody else could stop the Dark Lord, so this abused but determined first-year boy stepped up.

On her deathbed, Rita would say that her write-up of her Harry Potter interview in 1998 was the best writing she had ever done. Certainly her interview had changed the wizarding public’s view of young Harry Potter.

****

After the interview is published

After seven years of Hogwarts, a honeymoon and the interview with Rita, Harry and Hermione began writing books. These books told two Muggle-raised magicals’ views of the magical world, whilst other Potter books explained some parts of the Muggle world to magicals.

In the books the Potters wrote, Hermione presented a wealth of information about the book’s topic, which Harry rewrote into “mates drinking Firewhisky together” language. The Potters’ books far outsold books by all other wizarding-world authors; their book-signings at Flourish and Blotts packed the store every time.

The young Potters also became active in the Wizengamot. (Hermione had done a heritage test and had discovered that she was entitled to claim the Dagworth-Granger Head of House ring.) Sirius, Harry and Hermione made a formidable voting bloc in the Wizengamot, all by themselves.

Also, the Potters, however they decided to vote on a bill, could persuade other Wizengamot seat-holders to vote with them. People listened when Harry Potter spoke—he did not like this fact of his life, but by age seventeen, he had accepted it—and Hermione would give him an outline ahead of time of what to say in a speech. The actual words were his, and Harry Potter always talked like a regular wizard, even when he was wearing the plum-coloured robes of a Wizengamot seat-holder. As for Hermione, when she rose to speak, she cited facts and laid out logic in a way that nobody could counter. Each Potter alone would have been a more than effective legislator; together, they were as unstoppable as a Hungarian Horntail dragon.

Whenever anyone in the Wizengamot tried to say some version of “Purebloods are better,” Harry would brag on Muggle-borns—

“When my Muggle-born mother Lily Evans was in her seventh year at Hogwarts, she was Head Girl because for six years she had scored higher marks than everyone else in her year, including the Head Boy. Roughly twenty years later, Muggle-born Hermione Granger, my future wife, repeated this feat. On the other hand, do I need to talk about Squib children in Pureblood families, which is your so-called secret shame? Meanwhile, the Potter family, which regularly married Muggle-borns, has never given birth to a Squib child. Not to mention, the Muggle world has better food and better art, and you Purebloods are missing out on all these things.”

Between Harry killing off Voldemort and the Death Eaters in 1991, the books that “Harry and Hermione Potter” wrote, Lord Potter’s speeches in the Wizengamot beginning in 1998, and Lady Dagworth-Granger’s own speeches in the Wizengamot beginning in 1998, these two Muggle-raised magicals modernised Wizarding Britain.

****

About twenty-one years later
Saturday, 21st December (the Winter Solstice) 2019
Potter Manor

The late-thirties members of the Gold Thirteen, plus their husbands, wives and children, were enjoying a Yule feast together in Harry’s and Hermione’s house.

The meal was interrupted when Lavender and beehive-hairdo’d Luna spoke a prophecy—in unison.

The gist of the prophecy: Pansy Parkinson, of Conquered House Parkinson, was gathering followers to serve her as a Dark Lady, and would make trouble for Wizarding Britain in 2022 unless she was stopped before then.

Harry, acting as Head of House Parkinson, Apparated to Parkinson Manor. As Head of House Parkinson, he questioned Pansy, compelling her to answer truthfully.

Not liking her answers, Harry then Squibbed Pansy.

Harry returned to Potter Manor in time for dessert.

****

Eight years later: Wednesday, 12th April 2028

When the current Minister for Magic, Cyrus Greengrass, announced he was resigning for reasons of health, then the question became, “Who becomes the next Minister?”

The seat-holders of the Lightning-Bolt Coalition came to Harry and Hermione. They said to Harry, “If you announce your candidacy, we’ve enough votes to elect you.”

Harry replied, “I’m flattered and I thank you, but I’ve no interest in being Minister. But do you know who would be brilliant at it? Hermione.”

Hermione blinked, then she hugged Harry in front of the other seat-holders, not caring if this was “decorous” or not.

At the next Wizengamot session, Harry gave a speech nominating his wife, then the seat-holders discussed the candidates, then the seat-holders voted. Forty-eight-year-old Hermione Dagworth-Granger-Potter became the first Muggle-born Minister for Magic in 649 years.

Within a day, Hermione was interviewed by BBC News.

Back in 2019, an American Muggle-raised Squib who had not known he was magical, had discovered the magical world, then had outed the magical world in a blog post. Now nine years later, British magicals and British nonmagicals lived in an uneasy peace with one another—and Hermione was determined to improve relations.

Thus the BBC interview.

Before the interview with BBC News began, Hermione sat under hot television lights and she recalled her prophecy of thirty-seven years ago—

“Daughter of tooth-healers, you can change the world unless you choose the unfit man.”

Now Minister for Magic Hermione Potter had the power to improve magical-nonmagical relations in the United Kingdom, and she had a platform with which to improve magical-nonmagical relations all over the world. But none of this power, and none of this influence, she realised, now would be hers if she had married “the unfit man,” Ronald Weasley.

****

Ten years later: 2038

Harry and Hermione, about the time of their fortieth anniversary, wrote a book, Arrange to be Happily Married (Even when Your Marriage is Arranged).

The book sold well to magicals, because by then everyone in Wizarding Britain know that the Potters were ridiculously happy in their marriage, and everyone wanted to know their secrets.

****

What happened to the three evil Weasleys?

In 1994, Ginny Weasley was sentenced to five years in Azkaban, for attempting to love-potion the heir of House Potter. But when she was released from prison in 1999, she was shunned both personally (she never married) and professionally (the Holyhead Harpies pretended she did not exist). Ginny Weasley was not permitted to perform magic, but at least her mind was intact.

On the other hand, in 1994 Molly Weasley was sentenced to Azkaban (and its Dementors) for ten years, not five, because Molly had brewed the potions that her underage daughter had put in Harry Potter’s pumpkin juice. Molly Weasley, when she was discharged in 2004, was a babbling, shrieking madwoman. She died in June of 2005.

Ron never was arrested for trying to love-potion Hermione; he never served time. On the other hand, he had owned no wand since the day he had been expelled; and was not permitted to buy another wand or to perform magic. To add to his woes, in 1998 Parvati Patil went to work for Witch Weekly, and every few months she found a way to “remind” (warn) readers that Ronald Bilius Weasley was not worth any witch’s time. Ron never found a witch who was willing to marry him; even Romilda Vane (Ron’s former broom-cupboard playmate) turned him down.

****

What happened to Remus?

Sirius and Remus quickly repaired their friendship after Sirius’s acquittal, so it soon became commonplace for Harry to find Remus there when Sirius brought Harry to the Black mansion. For Sirius’s sake, Harry was civil to Remus, but still distrusted the werewolf as Dumbledore’s lackey and spy.

Harry did not begin to form a friendly attitude towards Remus till after Dumbledore died in Harry’s sixth year.

****

What happened to the Philosopher’s Stone?

Back in December 1992, Sam Houston Kellner had been headmaster of Hogwarts for a bit over a year when he received a strange note by international owl—

“Your castle has something that belongs to us. We wish to meet with you at a time of your convenience, to discuss reclaiming the object. We ask only that you keep our discussion secret. —NF and PF.”

At the agreed-upon time (during Yule break, 1992), Kellner was visited in the headmaster’s office by a man and woman in their thirties. They put up French-language silencing charms, then told Kellner that they were Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel.

Kellner did not believe them.

Then they proved it.

After this, they told Kellner why they were here: They had been played for fools by Nicholas’s former alchemy apprentice, Albus Dumbledore. Red-faced Nicholas Flamel then told an embarrassing tale of pretty words, lies, half-truths and evasions—and how he and Perenelle, a centuries-old couple, had been fooled into “loaning” to Dumbledore the most precious thing they owned: the Philosopher’s Stone.

****

The three walked out of the headmaster’s office then, intending to track down the Philosopher’s Stone. As they walked, they realised that they each knew part of a disturbing story. By talking together, they worked out that Dumbledore had had murderous plans for Harry Potter—

Without Voldemort realising he was being manipulated, Dumbledore created a situation where Voldemort would try to steal the Philosopher’s Stone, which Voldemort could access only by passing through traps on “the third-floor corridor, right-hand side” within Hogwarts. Likewise, first-year Hogwarts student Harry Potter was manipulated into believing that no adult would stop the Stone from being stolen by Voldemort; only he could save the Stone. Thus a battle to the death between Voldemort and Harry Potter would occur—which Dumbledore had made sure that Potter would be even more unprepared for than most first-year students would be.

But before this grand battle happened, three departments of the Ministry came to Hogwarts and dismantled the traps. The next day, the Unspeakables captured Voldemort and arrested Dumbledore. Harry Potter was safe.

But back when the traps had been dismantled, a magic mirror had been moved to somewhere else from where it had been placed as the final trap. Only Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel knew that the Philosopher’s Stone was embedded in this magic mirror. Nicholas was here at Hogwarts to find the mirror.

****

Fifteen minutes after leaving the headmaster’s office, after getting lost twice and after Kellner, by then red-faced, twice had been forced to ask directions from Hogwarts house-elves, the headmaster and the Flamels found themselves in a gigantic room on the seventh floor of the castle.

The room had, literally, a thousand years’ worth of junk in it.

Somehow Nicholas was able to guide his wife and the headmaster to a large, flat object that was covered by a coverlet. Nicholas removed the coverlet to reveal the tall mirror they sought.

Kellner saw himself in the mirror—as an old man. Older versions of current Hogwarts students were shaking his hand, and telling their wives/husbands and children, “He’s the headmaster who saved Hogwarts.”

“Ahem.” Perenelle Flamel said, “Headmaster, whatever you think you see in that mirror is not the future, but what you want the future to be. Stop looking in the mirror; it shows you a pretty lie.”

Meanwhile, Nicholas Flamel had drawn his wand, and had cast a French-language spell that hit the frame of the mirror. The left side of the frame spit out a bright-red stone, which dropped to the floor.

As Nicholas Flamel pocketed the red stone, he told Kellner, “If you ever meet Albus, do not trust him. When he is not being a thief, he is being a fool. God help Harry Potter if that man had stayed in control of Potter’s life.”

“Oh? What do you think Dumbledore would have done to Mister Potter?” Kellner asked.

“Assuming that Potter somehow had survived his Hogwarts years—which is a shaky assumption, with Dumbledore in his life—the young man probably would have been potioned to marry a Dumbledore loyalist and to name his second son Albus.”

Kellner made an iron resolution then: that if Dumbledore showed up at Hogwarts whilst Harry Potter was here, Kellner would do everything in his power to keep “the whiskered wanker” away from Mister Potter.

Kellner said to the Flamels, “None of those bad things will happen to Mister Potter. I’ll do whatever it takes to stop Dumbledore from further wrecking Harry Potter’s life. Harry Potter has earned a happy life, and I will give him this, as much as I can. I fully intend that, years from now, when Mister Potter slides out of his chair after taking his last Hogwarts NEWT, he will take Miss Granger’s hand, look around at the school he is about to leave, and say, ‘All is well.’ ”

The End