Reading Time: 113 Minutes
Title: An Accounting Problem
Author: Meri
Fandom: Harry Potter
Genre: Angst, Drama, Family
Relationship(s): Gen
Content Rating: PG-13
Warnings: *No Mandatory Warnings Apply. Discussions Of Child Abuse, Implied (Briefly) Spouse Abuse
Author Note: I consider canon a suggestion, not a rule. This is an alternate Universe.
Beta: SerpentsGarden. Many thanks for all their hard work on my story. Also useful were Grammarly and Text Aloud
Word Count: 76,169
Summary: In the complex tapestry of Wizarding Britain, a single loose thread can unravel the most intricately woven of plans.
In October 1983, a seemingly minor discrepancy in a goblin accounting ledger is discovered in an audit, and the investigation it sparks begins to unravel the plans of some highly placed people in the Wizarding World. It changes the trajectory of everything and sets Harry Potter, Sirius Black, Narcissa Malfoy, Minerva McGonagall, Ragnok Winterkill, and Amelia Bones on new courses in their lives.
Artist: ani
Artist Appreciation: Many, many thanks to ani for her wonderful artwork!
Chapter One
Gringotts
October 1983
Late Evening
Director Ragnok Winterkill’s Office was lit with only a few enchanted lights that reflected off the smooth stone walls. Ragnok sat behind a massive desk carved with intricate runes that kept him safe and warned him of approaching threats. He glanced up at the knock on his door.
“Come in,” he called. This late, he had no assistant to screen his visitors. Although this late, he would only be disturbed for an emergency.
Bordak Ledgeraxe, one of Gringotts’s senior auditors, came in carrying an account book. Bordak had a reputation as being meticulous in the extreme. From the expression on his face, Ragnok could surmise this probably was not going to enhance his evening.
“Why are you here this late?” Ragnok asked, smiling with all his teeth. If this was not an emergency, there would be a price to be paid for disturbing him.
Bordak stepped forward, placing the ledger on Ragnok’s desk. “Sir, I have come across an egregious oversight. The Potter will has not been executed, and yet, the funds meant for the care of the Potter heir have been paid out, but the receipts showing how the galleons are being spent are completely unaccounted for. Further investigation reveals that Albus Dumbledore has unlawfully declared himself the boy’s magical guardian. This was not done through the Wizengamot because we received no parchmentwork from them.”
Well, this was a problem, Ragnok thought as he tapped his fingers lightly against the desk. “Dumbledore?” he asked contemptuously. Albus Dumbledore was one of his least favorite humans. That was saying a lot since he was not fond of most humans. They were rude in general and thought they were entitled to things that they were not. “Are you saying that he is controlling the Potter Estate without proper documentation?”
Bordak nodded. “Yes, sir. From what we can tell, he sealed the Potter’s will. This should never have been allowed to happen. It is against their laws as well as against our laws. The funds released to the child’s supposed guardians have no documentation at all.”
Ragnok leaned back in his chair and considered the information for a moment, tamping down his glee that Dumbledore had finally made a mistake big enough to be prosecuted on. “It is possible the guardians were not given a proper explanation of how the funds they received should be documented. Do we know who the guardians are?”
“Harry Potter’s Muggle relations. The Dursleys,” Bordak said. “All we have is their name and a routing code for a muggle bank.”
“That is troubling, in and of itself,” Ragnok said. It was also profoundly annoying. “The Potter family entrusted us to carry out their wishes. This is not merely an error. It is a breach of our duty.” He glanced at Bordak. “We must pursue this matter immediately. Amelia Bones must be informed –”
“Excuse me, sir,” Bordak said. “Why would we tell the head of the Magical Law Enforcement Office and not the Minister?”
Because the ministry was corrupt and the director of the MLE was not. But Ragnok was not going to say that out loud just yet. “We do not need to involve the Minister in this,” Ragnok told him. “This is a matter that should have been handled two years ago when the Potters were murdered. The Potters’ will must be unsealed and executed without further delay. We will ensure that justice is served, and those who overstep their bounds will learn the consequences of disregarding Goblin law.”
With a deep bow, Bordak turned to leave. After he exited his office, Ragnok sat in silence. It was clear that Gringotts was going to have to step in and do something about what had happened. The repercussions could be severe. Dealing with most humans was problematic at the best of times, and just a few years after their war amongst themselves was not the best of times. Ragnok could only hope it would turn out well for the Goblin Nation.
*****
Amelia Bones’ Office
The Following Morning
Amelia Bones stood up from her desk as Ragnok, Director of Gringotts, entered her office. She knew enough about Goblin culture to know that their family names came first, emphasizing heritage and lineage. This was followed by a given name, which she did not know, awarded before maturity by a teacher or parent based on a skill or characteristic.
His armor gleamed under the magical lights, and his expression was severe. Before he even said a word, it was clear to Amelia that Ragnok’s presence in her office first thing in the morning meant that there was a problem of epic proportions and that he was about to drop it on her desk.
“Good morning to you, Director Ragnok,” she said politely. She’d learned a long time ago that being polite was key to cooperation, not just with the goblins but with anyone. Many Wizards never figured that out and could not understand why they got such cryptic service at the bank.
“Good morning, Madam Bones,” Ragnok said, bowing slightly.
Amelia gestured to the chair in front of her desk. “This is an unexpected visit. Can I offer you tea or coffee?”
“No, thank you,” he said, sitting down. “I find human coffee to be weaker than I prefer it.”
Amelia had heard that goblins drank their coffee so strong it would take the varnish off wood. “Then what can I do for you this morning?” she asked, leaning forward.
Ragnok placed the thick, leather-bound ledger he was holding on her desk. “There is a matter of critical importance involving the welfare of Harry Potter. As I am sure you are aware, the Potter Estate is in our care. Some disturbing inconsistencies have been discovered, and they point to a broader failure involving his guardianship.”
He paused and met her eyes. “Specifically, we have discovered that the Potter will has never been executed, and funds disbursed for their heir’s care have gone undocumented. Additionally, as far as we can tell, Albus Dumbledore has taken control of the boy’s guardianship without any legal authority to do so.”
This was worse than she had imagined. Amelia took the ledger from Ragnok and flipped through the pages. “Are you telling me,” she asked, keeping her tone neutral or as neutral as she could, given the shock she had just had. “That Harry Potter, the last scion of the Potter family, has had his rightful inheritance kept from him and has not been protected per his parents’ wishes?”
“That is exactly what I am telling you, Madam Bones,” Ragnok confirmed.
Amelia closed the ledger slowly and pushed it back on her desk. “These are serious allegations, Director Ragnok.” She leaned back, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. “But if what you are saying is true, this is an unforgivable failure on multiple levels. Obviously, I will need time to review these records fully before I can proceed. Rest assured, if it is as you say, I will see that it is taken to the Wizengamot immediately.”
Ragnok inclined his head as he stood and moved towards the door. “Gringotts trusts your integrity, Madam Bones. We will not rest until the Potter will is read and the boy’s future has been safeguarded according to his parents’ wishes.”
Hours later, the office was dim with the setting sun when Amelia finally finished her review of the documents that Ragnok had provided. There were interruptions, of course, and meetings she could not put off, but everything else was put off until tomorrow or the next day. This took precedence over everything else.
The parchments and ledger that covered her desk contained every detail of the Potter estate. The lack of execution of the will was deliberate, not an oversight.
She could not believe the level of manipulation that existed surrounding one young boy. Harry Potter should have been protected and should have had the comfort and care that any child who was a member of their society was due. But instead, he had been shunted away by someone who did not have the right to do so. It had been allowed because no one thought to question Albus Dumbledore’s authority in the first place.
This could not stand.
With a flick of her wand, she summoned her Patronus, a glowing silver lynx. She sent it out with an urgent message to all the members of the Wizengamot: “A matter of grave importance has been discovered, and it requires immediate attention. The Wizengamot must meet tomorrow morning at 9:00 am.”
*****
Wizengamot Chambers
The Next Day
As the members filed into the Wizengamot chamber, anticipation seemed to buzz through the room. Everyone present was no doubt wondering what had happened to require an emergency session.
Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock, sat at the highest podium, his long silver beard brushing the front of his bright green and lemon yellow robes. He had a look of composed curiosity on his face as he nodded to the clerk of the court.
“The Wizengamot is now in session,” the clerk announced. “Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock, presiding.”
“I have to say,” Dumbledore started with a twinkle in his eyes and sounding amused. “I have no idea why we were all called here this morning.”
Amelia rose from her seat, “If I may, Chief Warlock,” she asked formally.
“You have the floor, Madam Bones,” Dumbledore said, looking a little more curious now.
As Amelia turned to address the chamber, she squared her shoulders, knowing that her authority would command the attention of those in the room. She glanced up and saw that Director Ragnok, flanked by Bordak, sat in the visitor section, both with an unreadable expression on their faces. Ragnok nodded to her.
“I have called this emergency session to address a failure in the execution of wizarding law, one that involves the late James and Lily Potter and the future of their son, Harry Potter,” Amelia spoke out clearly so that she could not be misunderstood.
A murmur ran through the chamber. As Amelia watched him, Dumbledore’s brow furrowed ever so slightly, and a hint of unease started to show on his face, just behind his usually calm expression. Amelia was sure it would get worse as the morning wore on.
“The Potters’ will, which should have been executed immediately upon their passing, has been sealed unlawfully,” Amelia announced. “Furthermore, evidence provided by Gringotts reveals that Albus Dumbledore assumed guardianship of Harry Potter without legal basis to do so. Because of both of these actions, Harry Potter’s inheritance and all of the protections he should have had as a child of our wizarding society and as the child of an Ancient and Noble house have been disregarded.”
Dumbledore rose. “Madam Bones, I assure you that my actions have always been in the best interest of the boy. To ensure his safety above all else. There are matters of security that you may not fully understand,” his voice carrying across the chamber with his usual authority and not without a little bit of contempt for her daring to challenge him.
Amelia met his gaze. She was not impressed with his argument. Nor was she fooled by this play. Indeed, she’d expected it from him. Albus Dumbledore might act like a grandfatherly hero to many, but she’d never believed it. Most times, he skated just inside the law.
“This is not about what you believe to be best, Chief Warlock. This is about the law. Harry Potter is the last surviving member of an Ancient and Noble House. His parents had every right to expect their wishes to not only be respected but adhered to immediately upon their death, exactly as they specified in their will. The Potters’ will must be unsealed, and the guardianship must be formally decided according to the explicit terms of the will set down by James and Lily Potter. You do not have the authority to make decisions about anything having to do with him.”
A ripple of agreement passed through the chamber. Members from both light, gray, and dark families leaned forward, their expressions ranging from curiosity to indignation.
Lord Theros Nott, an older wizard whom Amelia knew was dark-leaning, was the first to speak up. “This is an outrage. That an Ancient and Noble House’s will has been disregarded in such a manner is beyond the pale,” Nott said, his anger apparent. “The Potters were an influential family, regardless of their alliances. To ignore their will is an affront to all of us who value the sanctity of our lineage.”
“I agree with Lord Nott,” Lord Jonathan MacLachlan said. He was a light-leaning wizard, but he was also friendly with Lord Nott. Rumor had it that, as unlikely as it seemed, Nott was a member of MacLachlan’s conclave. The conclave was semi-secret since all other conclaves had been disbanded one way or another by Dumbledore.
MacLachlan glanced towards Dumbledore with some disdain on his face. “Those of us with children or a legacy to pass down, need to be assured that no one has the ability to supersede our wishes for their own desires. No matter what their stated reasons are.”
Dumbledore tried again, his eyes flickering around the room, seemingly quite irritated by anyone questioning his authority. “The Dumbledore family has always acted in the interest of the greater good –”
Augusta Longbottom, the proxy for her son Frank, scowled at him. “The Dumbledore family lost its standing in the Wizengamot when your father was imprisoned in Azkaban for the murder of a Muggle, Albus. Whatever respect remains is not enough to justify disregarding the law of our people,” she said sternly as if she were scolding him.
That tone, which only someone of a certain age could achieve, amused Amelia quite a lot. Soon, more people rose to speak from both the light and dark factions. They all were saying one thing, that Harry Potter’s fate could not be decided by one man’s perception of the greater good.
After several more minutes of debate, Amelia thought the point was made. “We will vote on unsealing the Potters’ will.”
“I second the motion,” Lord Nott called.
“Third,” Madam Longbottom said.
Without recourse, Dumbledore looked furious. “The motion is up for a vote. Please raise your wands for Yay.”
A ripple passed through the room as wands were raised in agreement. A powerful surge of magic followed as the Wizengamot voted nearly unanimously.
“The Potters’ will must be read immediately,” Amelia announced. She turned to Dumbledore, glaring at him. “Chief Warlock, as Harry Potter’s supposed magical guardian, you are required to provide the Potters’ Will.”
Dumbledore hesitated, his lips thinning. The tension was palpable throughout the chamber. “I do not have it,” he admitted, barely above a whisper.
A gasp went through the assembly. Amelia glanced up at the visitors’ gallery. Ragnok had a grim smile on his face. He stood, nodding to Bordak, who produced a scroll with an unbroken Gringotts seal.
“Gringotts,” Ragnok said with noticeable satisfaction. “Has an official copy of the Potters’ will, as per our agreements with all noble wizarding families.”
Amelia took the scroll from Ragnok and then met Dumbledore’s eyes across the room. It was hard not to smirk at him, but she thought she’d managed it. “Let us proceed,” she said without inflection. “The Potters’ will shall be read immediately.”
Dumbledore sank back into his chair, his face pale with his obvious fury.
Amelia sat down, gazing around the Wizengamot chamber.
The chamber itself took charge of the will and would read it aloud without intervention from anyone. All the members fell silent as the seal was broken and the magical parchment was unfurled, floating before them.
“We, James Potter and Lily Potter, being of sound mind and body, do hereby declare…”
Amelia listened to the legalities, and since it was a joint will, they declared that if one predeceased the other, the surviving spouse would have complete control of all assets and galleons. That was expected. Then the will started on Harry’s guardianship.
“Sirius Black is the sworn godfather, and Alice Longbottom is the sworn godmother of our son, Harry James Potter,” echoed through the hall.
Amelia’s gut tightened unpleasantly after that announcement. How in Merlin’s name could Sirius Black still be alive if he were named as the most trusted guardian of Harry Potter. If Black was Harry Potter’s sworn godfather, then there was no possible way for him to have murdered James and Lily Potter. It would have killed him before he could violate that oath.
Before she could even contemplate the repercussions of that revelation, the will went on without pause. “And Peter Pettigrew was our Secret Keeper.”
Peter Pettigrew? Amelia immediately realized the implications. Everything the entire Wizarding World had thought, everything she had assumed, had just crumbled into dust. She and everyone else believed what they had been told. And they had been lied to.
There was no time to contemplate that either. The will went on to list the people James and Lily wanted to raise Harry if anything happened to them. Sirius Black and Alice Longbottom came first, of course. Then, surprisingly, Andromeda Tonks, Minerva McGonagall, and herself, as well as others. It also stated explicitly that Harry was never to go to Lily’s sister, Petunia Dursley, for any reason.
Amelia glanced back to Dumbledore. Why had he ignored the will? Dumbledore had been the will’s executor and had overseen everything. He knew what was in it, what the Potters wanted, and had disregarded their wishes. There could be no excuse for what he’d done. It was unconscionable.
By the time the will reading ended, Amelia was furious. Although she remained still, not saying anything for the moment. She probably was not going to have to say anything since she could see the rage on the faces of those present.
As soon as the reading ended, the Wizengamot chamber exploded into a chaos of different discussions on what had just been revealed. Amelia let it go on for a few minutes. “Albus Dumbledore,” she demanded, her anger barely suppressed. “Where is Harry Potter?”
Dumbledore stood and seemed composed, but there was a flicker of rage in his eyes. “For his safety, I will not tell anyone that information. And in fact, no one other than me knows,” he said, his tone saying he would brook no arguments about it.
That attitude was not going to be tolerated by Amelia and, by the look of it, anyone else. She stood, straightening to her full height, and glared at him. “Safety?” she asked quietly. “You knew what his parents’ wishes were. You were the executor of their will, and yet you placed their child somewhere without discussion or consent. This amounts to kidnapping, and I could arrest you for that.”
“No, I do not think you can do that, Amelia. You do not have the authority to do that,” he replied condescendingly.
Which did not endear him to Amelia, not at all. She smiled coldly at him. “Oh yes, I do. Do I need to remind you that I am the head of Magical Law Enforcement, and you are merely the head teacher at a school that Harry Potter might attend in the future? You are without standing in this courtroom. And you have no right to determine what is done to a child of an Ancient and Noble house. Especially against the stated will of his parents.”
“I am the Leader of The Light,” Dumbledore said. “That gives me authority in war to –”
“The war ended two years ago. Whatever authority you took to do as you pleased ended then,” Amelia said through her clenched teeth. “You will tell me where you placed Harry Potter, or I will call a vote on your competence to remain as Chief Warlock. Then, after you are unseated, I will arrest you for kidnapping.”
The chamber fell silent again. She could feel the eyes of everyone on her, but she did not let her attention waiver from Dumbledore. Amelia could see him weighing his options. He had already lost on the reading of the will. If she called a vote, she was sure she would have no trouble winning the majority of those assembled. She had standing in the Wizengamot as she was the sole representative of the Ancient and Noble House of Bones. He knew that.
“I placed him with his muggle relatives, the Dursleys. I also placed blood wards on the house. He needed to be protected and raised in the muggle world where no one knew him. It was done for the greater good.”
“Whose good,” she asked, glaring at him, not quite believing he had the audacity to say that out loud. “Certainly not Harry Potter’s good.”
“There are more things at play here than just one child’s –”
“That was not your decision to make,” Augusta Longbottom’s voice boomed across the room, and several people nodded in agreement with her.
He glared at her. “Amelia, the blood wards that protect Harry –”
“Enough!” she said, cutting him off. She was done with this farce. How dare Dumbledore even think he could get away with assuming this much power over a child not in his care. But she knew the answer too well. “We are not here to discuss theory or speculation. We are here to discuss the law. And the law has been broken.”
This was an outrage. To allow an innocent child to suffer, and she knew that Harry had suffered, even without seeing him. What was worse was that she knew that Dumbledore knew it and clearly did not care. She glanced around and saw more anger on the faces of the Wizengamot members. They knew it, too.
A murmur of agreement ran through the room. Amelia knew this would cause a fracture because there were some who would follow Dumbledore blindly. But she could see that enough of the factions were as outraged by this as she was.
“I call for a vote,” Nott announced with a smirk in Dumbledore’s direction. “To remove Albus Dumbledore as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot for his failure to uphold the law and honor the Potters’ will, thus completely disregarding an Ancient and Noble family’s trust.”
His words sent the room into chaos. There were cries of protest but also many more nods of approval.
“I second the motion,” Augusta Longbottom called.
Amelia had nothing to add to this. She hadn’t had to do it, although it was not unexpected that someone else would. It was evident that Dumbledore knew that as well. This wasn’t about political power. This was about justice.
The vote went as she’d expected, and Dumbledore was removed from the Chief Warlock position. There was a secondary vote to appoint a temporary Chief Warlock or Witch until a permanent replacement could be decided upon. Lady Griselda Marchbanks, who was from a light-leaning family, was named temporary Chief Witch. She would have to serve until the Wizengamot elected a permanent replacement, which should not be more than ninety days.
*****
Chapter Two
Crouch Manor
The Following Day
After some investigation, it became increasingly clear that Sirius Black’s imprisonment was worse than she had believed. Black had never had a trial. There was no evidence at all that he had even been questioned. As far as Amelia and her staff could find, he had been transported from the crime scene to Azkaban without any sort of due process.
The entire debacle pointed back to the chaos of the times but also to one wizard who had taken it upon himself to decide that Black deserved to be incarcerated whether or not he was actually guilty.
Amelia stood outside Bartemius Crouch Sr.’s home. She had a team of four Aurors with her. The gray skies of fall were reflecting the mood of the task ahead. Crouch was a wizard she had once had a lot of respect for, at least until he took matters of the law into his own hands.
“He sent Sirius Black to Azkaban without a trial,” she reminded herself. That, in itself, was unforgivable.
The doors opened, and Crouch greeted them with a tight expression. She saw the lines of exhaustion and bitterness in his face, but she had no sympathy for him. This was the bed he’d made, and now he was going to have to lie in it.
“Madam Bones,” he said, sounding hoarse. “To what do I owe the honor?”
“Bartemius Crouch,” she began, her tone cold. “I am here to take you into custody. For the unlawful imprisonment of Sirius Black.”
He did not move or speak, but the color drained from his face.
“You are cautioned that you do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence,” Amelia told him. “Further, you are being charged with putting a wizard into Azkaban without a trial or any sort of due process,” she continued. “That is beyond illegal. It is inexcusable. The Wizengamot will see that justice is served.”
“It was war,” Crouch said. “I had to make the hard decisions without time to consider all aspects. It is possible mistakes were made –”
“I think that it is much more than a mistake,” Amelia said. “I think this was a deliberate attempt to imprison Sirius Black.”
“He was a dark wizard. He was at the crime scene.”
“Neither of those things proves anything. You did not even question him,” Amelia said. “You did not have the authority to do what you did. What in Merlin’s name were you thinking?
Crouch just looked at her, his expression frozen and pale. She could see that it was not even fear. No, it was something else, something that looked like resignation.
The Aurors behind her shifted as if they sensed something else. She did, too.
Then, from within the house, she heard a crash and then someone crying out.
Amelia drew her wand in a second. “Search the house,” she ordered, and she pushed Crouch back inside. “Do not move.”
He stood there in the foyer of his home, not moving, his eyes closed. She was surprised he had not gone for his wand.
The Aurors moved into the house quickly. It did not take them long to find the cause of the disturbance, but it was such a surprise to everyone there. Crouch’s son, Bartemius Crouch Jr. who was supposed to have died a few months ago and clearly was not dead. Given his blank-eyed, cheerfully drooling expression, it looked as if he was under the Imperius Curse as well.
“Take them both in,” Amelia said, her fury with the situation growing by the moment. She knew she should not be surprised, but she was. Bartemius Crouch clearly had no respect for the law at all. And she would have said she knew him, but it was clear that she did not.
Through all of it, Crouch said nothing. Junior had plenty to say as he giggled and then shouted as he was taken away from the house.
Amelia was going to ensure that they would both get to the holding cells at the Aurors’ office, where they would get due process. This was probably only the beginning. Junior would likely be returned to Azkaban to wait for another trial, while his father would probably just be held in custody in the holding cells at the ministry. Both of them would need to be interrogated, and it would fall to her to do it.
This was going to be a massive scandal. And Amelia knew very well that it would take time for all of it to work through the system.
*****
Surrey
Later That Afternoon
Number Four Privet Drive was on a quiet street lined with rows of identical houses. In the chilly light of mid-morning, all of them were quiet. Nice and normal.
Amelia was dressed in a smart, dark suit and sensible shoes, entirely appropriate for blending into Muggle society. She stood outside the Dursleys’ home. With her were five members of the Muggle Child Protective Services (CPS), who were part of a unique team familiar with the existence of magic. They often worked with wizarding authorities when there was concern about the treatment of magical children in Muggle households.
“Are we ready?” Amelia asked the CPS lead, a no-nonsense woman named Sarah Matthews. Amelia had worked with her in the past.
Sarah nodded. “We are.”
Amelia took a deep breath. Sarah had been briefed on the allegations that the child had been kept with his Muggle relatives in direct violation of his parents’ will.
One of the CPS team rang the doorbell, and within moments, they heard heavy footsteps approaching.
The door was opened by a thin-faced woman with a pinched expression and a deep frown. Petunia Dursley, Amelia presumed.
“Can I help you?” Petunia asked, in a tone that said that she would not be interested in helping anyone at all.
“Mrs. Dursley?” Sarah asked with a tight smile on her face. “We are with Child Protective Services. We have had a report of a possible welfare concern regarding your nephew, Harry Potter.”
For a brief moment, Petunia looked confused, then her expression hardened. “I do not know what you are talking about,” she snapped. “There’s no Harry Potter here. You have the wrong house.”
Amelia’s eyes narrowed. The rigidness of Petunia’s posture and the defensiveness of her tone indicated that she was lying.
“We’d like to come in and take a look around, Mrs. Dursley,” Sarah continued, remaining professional. “If you refuse, we will have no choice but to call the police.”
This was not true since two of the five-person team were police officers assigned to Child Protective Services as deputized agents.
Petunia’s face drained of color. “The police?” she gasped. After a brief hesitation, she stepped aside. “Fine, come in.”
They entered the house, which was immaculately clean. It looked like a picture of normality, yet something about it felt off to Amelia.
“There’s no child here by that name,” Petunia said again, not looking at anyone. “He is not here.”
Amelia was already suspicious, and she glanced around the room, noting the lack of any sign of a second child living in the house. The pictures on the walls and over the fireplace were of a large blond boy. There were no extra shoes, no toys, nothing but the constant images of their son.
A faint sound, like a shuffle, came from somewhere behind them. Amelia glanced toward the staircase.
“What was that?” one of the CPS agents asked.
Petunia stiffened. “Oh, that’s just, um, the boiler. Nothing to worry about.”
Amelia reached into her coat pocket and, with a discreet wave of her wand, cast a Revelio. A soft glow illuminated the small cupboard under the stairs.
“Here,” Amelia said, pointing at the door under the stairs. “He’s in there.”
Before Petunia could stop them, Sarah moved to pull open the cupboard door. She knelt down to look inside and gasped. The others in the team also crouched down to look. Amelia felt sick.
In the cramped space under the stairs was a small, thin boy with messy black hair and large, frightened green eyes. His clothes hung loosely off his thin frame, and his face was streaked with dirt.
Sweet Merlin. It was Harry Potter.
That poor child looked like a ghost. He had bruises on his arms, as well as one on his cheekbone. His bony arms were wrapped around his knees, and his eyes were wide with fear.
“My God,” Sarah whispered, the professional detachment in her voice cracking as she took in the horrifying sight.
Harry flinched at the noise as if bracing for a blow. Amelia took a breath and forced herself to remain calm for the child’s sake.
A red-faced, heavyset man with a mustache appeared in the hallway. His eyes widened when he saw the cupboard door open. “What the devil are you doing? Get away from there! He’s –”
“Quiet,” Amelia snapped, her wand now visible in her hand as she glared at him. “You have nothing to say here. I can see this child has been abused. You are both going to answer for this.”
Petunia’s face twisted in fury. “You are a witch! You have no right to be here! He promised us none of your kind would bother us.”
“Madam Bones,” Sarah said, glancing at the Dursleys, particularly Vernon. “Harry needs medical attention immediately. He’s been beaten more than once.”
“We are taking him into custody,” Amelia said in a tone that brooked no argument.
“We are going to deal with the Dursleys as well,” Sarah said. “I will have the paperwork for his custody at your office by this afternoon.”
Harry blinked up at Amelia, clearly bewildered, but when she offered him her hand, he hesitated for only a moment before reaching out. His small fingers curled around hers, and she promised him silently that she would see justice served on his account.
“I want you out of my house. You have no right to be here!” Vernon roared, stepping forward angrily, but one of the CPS agents blocked his path.
“Oh, I think we have every right,” Edward Cotton said. Even though Vernon was bigger than he was, Edward looked like he was trained well enough to put Vernon on the ground. “I cannot abide people who would do this to a child.
“We did not want him,” Petunia said, trying to justify their abuse. “He was forced on us. We could not afford another mouth to feed. He was taking food out of my baby’s mouth.”
“You received more than a thousand pounds a month for his upkeep,” Amelia reminded them.
“Oh, no, we did not,” Vernon roared. “We got nothing but that damned letter pinned to his blanket.”
Amelia would have said they were lying, but neither of them, particularly Petunia, could lie that well. She would need to check into where the money went. She had assumed, and perhaps incorrectly, that since the galleons were disbursed to a muggle bank, it went to them. But there was clearly more here. “You still abused a helpless child,” Amelia said.
“You will both be arrested for child abuse,” Sarah said coldly, her eyes narrowing. “This is unforgivable.”
“You, you can’t do this to us,” Petunia sobbed. Her eyes were wild as she seemed to realize that her perfect little world was crumbling around her. “We did not do anything wrong –”
“Child abuse isn’t wrong?” Edward asked and turned to look at both of them. “Petunia Dursley, Vernon Dursley, you are both under arrest.”
“What about Dudley?” Petunia asked. “What will happen to my son?”
Amelia exchanged a glance with Sarah, who turned back to Petunia. “Dudley will be placed into Care this evening.”
“No. He doesn’t have to go into Care. He has a family,” Petunia said, the color draining from her face. “Send him to my relatives in Northern England. Daniel Alan Evans. Not Marge Dursley, please. She has no experience with taking care of children.”
“We’ll take that into account when processing his case,” Sarah said, noting down the name. “But for now, both of these children will be removed from your home.”
Petunia sat down on the sofa, sobbing quietly, while Vernon stood there, his face red and fists clenched, glaring at everyone in the room and looking like he was getting ready to explode. Edward called for a backup squad car to transport them.
Amelia knelt down beside Harry. “It’s going to be all right, Harry,” she whispered, looking into his frightened eyes. “You are safe now.”
Harry did not say a word, but there was a flicker of hope in his eyes as he looked at her. And that made Amelia feel a little better about the situation.
*****
Later That Day
Amelia stepped into Director Ragnok’s office, her gaze adjusting to the dimness of the space. Ragnok sat behind his massive desk, and Amelia could feel him watching every step she took as she walked across his office. He waved her to a seat across from him. The revelations from the Dursleys had already put her on edge, and she had a feeling that the conversation with Ragnok wasn’t going to help with that very much.
Ragnok inclined his head in a nod, his fingers lacing together as he looked at her expectantly. “Madam Bones,” he said politely. “You requested a meeting regarding the Potter Estate.”
“Yes,” Amelia replied, nodding. “This morning, we arrested the Dursleys, Harry Potter’s Muggle guardians. They are being charged with child abuse and various other crimes. However, they both swore that they had never received the monthly galleons that were allocated for Harry Potter’s upkeep. I do not believe they are lying.”
Ragnok’s eyes narrowed slightly. “The funds were sent, routed through a secure channel, to a Muggle financial institution. As per our protocol.”
“And yet,” Amelia continued. “The Dursleys seem to not have seen a single galleon. This means that someone else has been receiving the money which was intended for Harry’s care. Considering the amount of galleons we are discussing here, it is deeply concerning.”
“Very concerning indeed, Madam Bones,” Ragnok replied. “The secure means of the transfer could not have been interfered with easily. Yet, as all bankers know, there are those among wizardkind who could have found, shall we say, more creative ways to reroute the money.”
Amelia leaned forward slightly. “Director Ragnok, you mentioned the routing was secure. I assume that means tampering with it would be detectable?”
“If the funds were redirected, there would be an audit trail.” He paused and met her eyes. “It would take considerable time and effort to trace it through the Muggle world, but it is within the power of the bank to do so. I promise you that I will look into the exact path of these funds.”
“That would be very valuable to the MLE right now,” Amelia said, relieved that it could be traced at all in the Muggle world. “Harry Potter’s welfare has already been compromised enough by this. If someone has been stealing funds intended for him, that is an additional crime, and it will not go unpunished.”
Ragnok’s mouth twisted slightly in something akin to a smirk. “And if it turns out that someone, possibly a wizard, is responsible for this? Are you prepared for that discovery?”
The question gave Amelia pause because clearly, he had someone in mind. She did as well, but it would be unprofessional to say anything before there was any evidence to support it. Everyone should be equal under the law. Although, what she thought was possible and what Ragnok thought was likely the same.
“Most assuredly,” she replied firmly. “If a wizard is involved in the theft of funds from Harry Potter’s estate, we will prosecute them to the fullest extent of the law.”
“I will begin tracing the funds immediately,” Ragnok said. “Expect word within the week.”
The Wizarding World had already failed Harry Potter in so many ways. If there were other hands involved in this travesty, it was on her and her department to see justice done.
“Thank you, Ragnok,” she said as she stood. “I know Gringotts has its own priorities, and I appreciate your seeing to this matter personally.”
“We have our own code of honor, Madam Bones. Thievery of this kind is not a matter Gringotts takes lightly,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Rest assured, whoever tampered with this will be dealt with.”
As she left the office, Amelia was troubled about the whole thing. Whoever was responsible for the missing funds had not only betrayed Harry Potter but had violated both wizarding and goblin trust. That was no small matter for either of their societies.
*****
The Following Morning
Amelia took a deep breath before she went into the interrogation room where Bartemius Crouch Sr was being held. She’d always respected Crouch for his adherence to the law. To find out that he was actually a criminal with no respect whatsoever for the law was disheartening. However, she needed to find as much information as she could on why and how this happened.
She went in, and Crouch was in prison robes, bound to the chair. The room was utilitarian and sparse, with gray walls and a gray-painted table.
“Bartemius Crouch,” she said. “This is your formal interview. You do not have to tell me anything, and everything you say can be used in your trial. If you want a solicitor, one will be provided for you. This interview will be recorded with a dicta-quill, and it will be made available to your solicitor when you choose one. Do you understand what I have told you?”
“I understand,” Crouch said bleakly.
“We shall begin with Sirius Black. Can you describe the circumstances that led you to send him to Azkaban?” Amelia asked.
“I apparated to the scene, which was a right mess,” Crouch started. “There were parts of Muggles all over the street. It was chaos, and we needed to act fast. Black was sitting on the curb, crying and repeating that it was all his fault. I took that as a confession to what happened.”
“Without even asking him what he was talking about –”
“I was in a hurry,” Crouch snapped. “We needed to clean up the mess and memory charm the witnesses. He confessed.”
“You know as well as I do that was not a confession,” Amelia said, her anger increasing. “It was an emotionally compromised individual who probably did not even know what he was saying. Why would you not talk to him again?”
“Time. You remember what it was like then. The whole world was chaos. So much was happening,” Crouch said. “I personally had so much going on.”
She remembered that his son had been arrested at that time, and his wife had been ill for a long time before that. “So, instead of investigating further, you shipped the son of an Ancient and Noble house off to Azkaban.”
“Black had been disowned. He was just a regular wizard and a dark one at that.”
As if that made a difference, Amelia thought. “Actually, he was never disowned. And as far as we can tell, he is still the scion of the House of Black. He is still Lord Black’s Heir.”
At least Crouch looked sick now. “I did not know that.”
“It should not have mattered –”
Crouch snorted. “Black was a troublemaker. No one was going to miss him. In fact, no one did miss him –”
“You and Bagnold and Dumbledore did a good job of smearing his reputation,” Amelia said, disgusted with this conversation. “You broke the law with this one.”
“I did what was needed to get the criminals off the streets –”
A terrible thought occurred to Amelia. “Did you send other people to prison without a trial?”
Crouch looked away.
“How many?” she asked. “Tell me.”
“Possibly as many as twenty.”
Amelia sucked in a shocked breath. How had this been allowed to happen? “Is there any documentation on who?”
“There should be a list somewhere. Maybe in my desk. They were all troublemakers. Malcontents. I would have sent more, if I could have captured them.”
“You had no right. You broke the law,” Amelia said, horrified. She would have Crouch’s office searched. And she would need to send someone trusted to Azkaban to talk to the warden. There should have been some kind of paperwork for each of the prisoners transferred there. “How did you get the authority to do this? Who gave you that power?”
Crouch looked down and sighed. “I took it. I spoke briefly with Minister Bagnold about my authority to arrest and detain prisoners. She agreed that it was a good idea to transport them to Azkaban to await a trial. I just never got around to trying any of them.”
This was such an outrage that Amelia could not believe it was happening, but she would deal with her rage later. “All right, I think I understand the circumstances –”
“It was war,” Crouch repeated again.
“I was there,” Amelia reminded him. And yes, the fear and desperation had been terrible. There was no one who had not lost someone. She had lost her brother and his whole family in one attack, but she forced herself to go on.
“Are we done?” Crouch asked.
“I have a few more questions,” Amelia replied. “How did you break your son out of prison.”
“My wife wanted him out. She always favored him, and she knew she was dying. So, she begged me to let her change places with him using Polyjuice.”
“Your son walked out looking like your wife. And when she died, because she was Polyjuiced, she stayed in his form to be buried.”
“That is correct.
“And you kept him under the Imperius Curse? How long did you think that was going to last?” Amelia asked. In theory, Crouch could have kept his son under Imperius for a long time.
“I was not thinking beyond giving my wife her last wish,” Crouch said quietly.
Amelia shook her head. She had been right. This was going to be a massive scandal, and there was no doubt that Bartemius Crouch, Sr, was going to join Junior in a cell in Azkaban.
*****
Chapter Three
That Afternoon
Lord Arcturus Black III, of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, threw floo power into his fireplace at Black Manor and said, “Gringotts,” as he stepped through. His privileged status had allowed him to floo to Gringotts external floo room, which was just off the bank lobby.
The letter summoning him to the bank had been brief, but it was enough to worry him. The Black family accounts needed reviewing. There were also some matters of inheritance that needed to be dealt with, specifically for his grandson, Sirius Black, and his grandson’s heir, Harry Potter.
Arcturus sighed, his back starting to ache from the spinning of the floo. He was sure it was just old age finally moving in on him, or so he had been telling himself. But deep down, he feared that it might be something more nefarious. The changes to his face and body were much more noticeable than the gentle aging he had been experiencing previously.
Some of it was more deeply concerning, such as his fingernails turning purple. The constant fatigue was also disheartening.
He emerged from the fireplace in the floo room, and he steadied himself, dismissing the ashes with a flick of his wand and then leaning on his cane. Arcturus moved forward into the room.
The air in Gringotts was cold and heavy, and he pulled his cloak around him more tightly, repressing a shiver.
A goblin guard approached, and clearly, Arcturus had been expected. He held out a hand to lead Arcturus towards a private office, where Ragnok awaited him. As Arcturus entered the room, he could feel Ragnok watching him.
“Lord Black,” Ragnok said, his tone respectful. “We have several matters to discuss regarding the future of your family and its holdings.”
“So your letter informed me, Director Ragnok,” Arcturus said politely as well. He settled into a chair across from Ragnok, wincing slightly as he sat. His joints ached more than usual today, and he had felt a slight lightheadedness since leaving the manor. He ignored it as best he could and focused on the task at hand. “I believe that you mentioned the accounts and my heir, Sirius Black.”
Ragnok’s eyes lingered on Arcturus for a moment before he spoke again. “Before we discuss the accounts, there is something else that concerns me.” He stood, coming around the desk and eyeing Arcturus critically. “If you will allow me, I would like to run a scan on you.”
“A scan?” Arcturus frowned at the thought of being subjected to such a thing. But there was something in Ragnok’s manner that surprised him enough to consider it. The goblins were no fools, and if Ragnok saw something amiss with him, then perhaps he should allow it. “Very well,” Arcturus agreed.
Ragnok raised his hand, and a faint blue light shimmered from his fingertips, spreading out to envelop Arcturus. The light pulsed over him, passing over his skin, his thinning hair, and his purple-tinted nails. Ragnok’s face grew serious as the light settled back into his palm, fading into nothingness.
“You have been poisoned, Lord Black,” Ragnok said flatly.
Arcturus froze. “Poisoned?” he said, shocked despite everything. “How is that even possible?”
“It is a slow-acting poison,” Ragnok continued, but his tone carried his concern. “Likely administered over time. The signs are clear. The discoloration of your nails, the dullness of your skin, and the thinning of your hair. It has clearly been affecting you for months, perhaps longer.”
Arcturus had dismissed the symptoms. Poison was not something someone jumped to when thinking about such things. It was easier to attribute it to old age.
In Merlin’s name, who could have done such a thing to him? Someone who had access to him and his house without question. A chilling realization settled over him. Orion Black. His son was a loyal follower of the Dark Lord. In recent years, he had seemed to covet Arcturus’ power and had argued more than once that he should have been made Arcturus’ heir rather than Sirius.
Arcturus’s hand clenched tightly around the cane. If Orion had wanted the lordship of the House of Black for himself, then it was possible he might try to take it. They’d argued about it, with Orion saying that Sirius was unworthy. But clearly, he was the one who was not worthy.
Ragnok’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You suspect someone close to you, I take it.”
Arcturus met Ragnok’s gaze and nodded slowly. “I do. This wizard would have the motive and the opportunity. I believe he is an unmarked follower of the Dark Lord.”
Orion had no hope of ascending to the Black Lordship, not with Sirius as his heir. The irony was apparent to Arcturus. Sirius had been disowned by his parents for his unwillingness to serve the Dark Lord and was the true heir to the House of Black. Arcturus had never disowned him. The family magic had informed him that after Sirius, Harry Potter was the next magical heir. The boy was the last hope for the future of the Black family.
He looked up at Ragnok, who was watching him carefully. “And with me increasingly incapacitated, I have not been able to fight for my grandson’s freedom. I have only recently realized that Sirius was never given a trial.”
Ragnok nodded. “It would have been a stain on your family magic if he were convicted of such a betrayal.”
“Do you know something, director?” Arcturus asked, knowing he was correct about the stain on the family magic. It should have been apparent to Arcturus two years ago, but he hadn’t been paying attention.
“I do not know all the details of what happened yet. You might wish to speak to Amelia Bones,” Ragnok suggested. “She has an ongoing investigation looking into what happened to your grandson.”
Arcturus would contact her for more details. There was still a flicker of hope for a better future. He had already decided that both Harry Potter and Sirius would live with him at Black Manor.
“I want Sirius released,” Arcturus said. “And I want Harry Potter to come under the guardianship of the Black family. As for those who are Death Eaters in my family,” He paused. “I will disown every one of them.”
He would cut them off from the family magic and the family funds. Orion, Walburga, Cygnus, Druella, Bellatrix, Lucius Malfoy, and all the rest of those who served the Dark Lord would see their ties to the Black name severed. Arcturus planned to speak to Narcissa privately. He knew she hadn’t taken the Dark Mark, so that would weigh in her favor.
Ragnok glanced at him with what seemed like approval. “We can ensure that all the necessary paperwork is ready to be processed on your word, Lord Black. The vaults tied to the Death Eaters in your family will be reclaimed. Their assets will be returned to the Black accounts.”
“Good. I will not let any of them tarnish the Black Legacy any further,” Arcturus said with a grim smile. “My house has fallen far enough.”
Ragnok stepped back and tapped his finger on his desk twice. It glowed for a second or two. “I have taken the liberty of contacting one of our best healers, Glint Thistlewild, so that she can begin your treatment immediately,” Ragnok said. “From the scan, I could see that the poison can be purged from your body, but it will take time. You are fortunate it was caught before it progressed any further than it had.”
Arcturus nodded, grateful to him. “Thank you, Ragnok, for everything. The House of Black is in your debt. I will not forget that.”
Ragnok nodded.
*****
An Hour Later
Arcturus sat in the private healing room deep within Gringotts, the feel of ancient magic humming through the walls. The chair he sat in was crafted for both comfort and endurance, but his body ached despite the padding. The realization that his own son had been responsible both infuriated and saddened him.
Ragnok had told Arcturus that Healer Glint Thistlewild was a renowned goblin healer with a reputation for unmatched skill in both magical remedies and poison cures. She held a vial of shimmering, green liquid in her hands. He assumed it was the antidote for the poison that had slowly been eating away at him.
“Lord Black,” Healer Glint said. “The poison has been allowed to accumulate in your body for some time. Had this gone untreated, it would have eventually left you entirely incapacitated, and finally, after many more years of deteriorating, it would have killed you.”
Arcturus, despite the gravity of the situation, managed a dry chuckle. “I have always suspected it would be something treacherous that would get me in the end, not old age. Although I had not expected my own family to be the perpetrator.”
Healer Glint gave him a sharp look but said nothing as she uncorked the vial. “I am going to administer the antidote in stages. The poison has been with you for so long that removing it too quickly would do you more harm than good. This will take time to complete, but you will feel relief as soon as you have had the first dose.”
“Time,” Arcturus muttered, leaning back in his chair as she cast a series of diagnostic spells. “Is something I had always thought I would have more of.”
“You will recover, Lord Black. Goblin remedies are not to be underestimated,” Healer Glint said as she worked. The magical energy wove between her fingers and flowed into Arcturus’s body.
“Nor is goblin wisdom,” Arcturus replied, watching the blue light of her magic move across his skin. “Can you tell me how long this poison has been affecting me?”
Diagnostic results were in the air above Arcturus, but he couldn’t read them. She glanced up at them for a moment, her eyes scanning the magical readings. “From the state of your organs and the concentration of the poison in your blood, I would estimate it’s been administered for more than a year. Small doses, given regularly.”
Arcturus’s lips pressed together into a thin line as he considered that. “I should have known this wasn’t natural. Orion must have given it to one of my elves and ordered them to administer it. If he said it was beneficial to my health, they would have no reason to question it.”
Healer Glint met his gaze. “The poison could have been put in something that was beneficial to your health, and it would likely not have been detected since it was a small, slow dose. Do not blame the elves,” she said.
“I would not,” Arcturus assured her. “But I think they will blame themselves. I must ask them about it, but I do not wish to upset them.”
Healer Glint nodded. “I have always felt that the use of poison is the weapon of a coward. Those who do not have the strength to face their opponents openly. It is not the way goblins would approach anything.”
Arcturus’ hand tightened around the head of his cane. “Cowardly indeed. I am sure my son thinks himself quite clever. But all his plotting will come to naught.” As for Orion, Arcturus thought he was in for quite a few shocks in the next few weeks.
Healer Glint’s fingers glided across his arm as she placed a thin band infused with healing runes. “Once you recover, you will have the strength to ensure your legacy is passed down properly. But until then, you must conserve your energy. You will need it for the battles ahead.”
“The goblins are ever wise. But I am not the type to sit idle. I may be weakened, but I am not helpless,” Arcturus assured her. He had too much to do right now to sit about, and he was going to start as soon as he left here today.
It was clear that Healer Glint knew what he hadn’t said. Her dark eyes glimmered with something that might have been respect. “I understand, Lord Black. But I will warn you, if you overexert yourself, you could risk losing the chance to fight at all. This poison has already taken a toll. Even with my treatment, the damage will not simply disappear overnight.”
“Thank you,” Arcturus said, shifting slightly in his chair. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the healer’s magic over him. Although it wasn’t that much yet, he could already feel some relief from the healing. “I owe you much, Healer Glint, for this antidote and for saving me from an early grave.”
Healer Glint dipped her head slightly, a brief acknowledgment of his gratitude. She worked in silence for the next few minutes. When she finished, she stepped back and glanced at him. “You will need at least three or four more treatments before the poison is fully purged. But you have made it through the worst. Take care of yourself, Lord Black.”
Arcturus nodded, his mind already shifting to the future, cataloging the things that needed to be done. “The fight is not over.” In truth, Arcturus knew it was just the beginning. There was much to do.
*****
Azkaban
Two Days After The Will Reading
Sirius Black sat huddled in the corner of his Azkaban cell, trying to stay warm. The dim light filtered through the slits of the window high up in the stone wall. His long, tangled black hair hung in dirty strands around his face.
The constant pressure of the dementors never let him rest. His mind felt frayed, and he barely clung to the few happy memories he could still remember. Those memories of James, Lily, and Harry were etched hard into his mind and would not give way to his despair.
The sound of the cell door creaking open jerked him from his thoughts, startling him, and his heart raced painfully.
It had been a very long two years since he’d been thrown in here. He’d learned early that he could escape some of the dementor’s effects if he turned into his Animagus form. But even that did not work all the time. And sometimes, it took more energy than he had to achieve the transformation.
Two figures stepped into his cell. Aurors, judging by their robes. What could they want with him?
“Black,” said the taller of the two. It took a second, but Sirius recognized the auror as Kingsley Shacklebolt. When Sirius had been starting auror training, he’d heard about Shacklebolt. Sirius didn’t know him personally, though he had a reputation for being fair.
Beside Shacklebolt stood Gawain Robards, another auror Sirius didn’t know at all. His expression was pitiless and unsympathetic. Clearly, he was unhappy to be here. Not that Sirius blamed him for that. He did not want to be here either.
“You are being transferred back to the ministry,” Shacklebolt said. “There is to be a trial. A fair one.”
Sirius blinked in disbelief. His mind struggled to process the words. “A trial?” he croaked, his voice rough from disuse. “After all this time? Why now?”
“They have uncovered new evidence,” Robards said curtly, stepping forward. “Apparently, you were never given one in the first place. It is time to set things to right.” But it didn’t sound like he was happy with that, either.
Sirius simply could not believe that they were here. There was a faint suspicion that this was just a dementor illusion or dream where he’d wake up to be disappointed. Anything that seemed too good to be true around here generally was. But deep down, a flicker of something dangerous stirred in his gut. Hope. It had been too bloody long since he had felt anything close to that.
“Come,” Shacklebolt urged gently. “We are here to get you out of this place. No tricks.”
Sirius hesitated, his body trembling as he slowly rose from the filthy mattress in the corner. His legs were weak, and he stumbled. Shacklebolt reached out to steady him, but Sirius recoiled.
“I can walk,” he muttered, not meeting their eyes. He did not want to see the pity or accusation.
With slow, painful steps, Sirius followed them out of the cell. As they passed through the corridors of Azkaban, the Dementors lurked in the shadows, their presence ice cold, sending shivers down his spine. But for the first time in two years, Sirius felt something other than despair. He could not deny he was leaving Azkaban, for whatever reason.
He boarded the ministry boat to be taken back to London. It was chilly on the North Sea, and he huddled in the prison clothes he was still wearing. Shacklebolt dropped a cloak over him. “It is a two-hour trip,” Shacklebolt said. “You should come inside.”
Sirius shook his head. “I need to be out in the air. If I had a wand, I would cast a warming spell.”
Shacklebolt pulled his and cast one. “It will only last an hour or so.”
“Thanks,” Sirius said. “I will be fine.” He’d spent many nights cold and miserable. Two hours of breathing free air would do him more good than the cold would harm him.
*****
When they finally arrived at the Ministry holding cells, Sirius was too cold and too tired to process much of anything. He’d expected to be thrown back into another cell, which he’d hoped would be warmer than the last one.
Instead, he was met by Amelia Bones. She looked at him without comment, but Sirius could see the flicker of shock in her eyes as she took in his appearance. He knew what he must look like, his skin stretched thin over his bones, hair wild and matted, eyes sunken and hollow. How else would he look after two years of neglect and starvation in Azkaban?
“Sirius Black,” she said without inflection. “You are here to stand trial for the murder of Lily and James Potter. I realize that it is long overdue, but you will have a chance to clear your name.”
“Two years too late for that,” he muttered hoarsely. “Why now? Why wasn’t there a trial when I was first put in that place?”
Amelia regarded him with a mixture of pity and professionalism. “Your case was mishandled. We have recently unsealed James and Lily Potter’s will and had it read. It said that Peter Pettigrew was the secret keeper for the Potters, not you.”
“Why wasn’t it read earlier?” Sirius asked, really too tired to do this now. He was having trouble keeping up with the conversation, and thinking was not even possible. “Dumbledore should have done something, said something. Why would he not do anything? Why was I left to rot?”
She looked at him and then away. “Everyone believed you were guilty –”
“I was Harry’s sworn godfather. Tell me again how that was going to work. I would be dead if I had betrayed him or his parents. Tell me how anyone who knew I was disowned at sixteen and taken in by the Potters could think I would betray the only true family I had ever known. How does that work?” Once he’d found his voice again, Sirius was angry enough to make sure everyone knew how badly this looked.
“We understand that. Mistakes were made. We were lied to by Bartemius Crouch Sr., and Minister Millicent Bagnold went along with it, as did the Chief Warlock, Albus Dumbledore. You should know that Crouch has also been arrested for sending you to Azkaban without a trial, as well as other things.”
“And the other two?” Sirius asked pitilessly. He had not realized just how corrupt the Ministry had become. Of course, when he’d been involved during the war and as an auror trainee, he was oblivious.
“Minister Bagnold is about to have a vote of confidence presented to the Wizengamot. Next session if I have heard correctly.”
“And Dumbledore?”
“He’s been relieved of his duties as Chief Warlock for the Wizengamot, and also, he’s being investigated for a multitude of reasons, including the misuse of his power to seal the Potter’s will and the illegal placement of Harry Potter –”
“Wait. Where was Harry placed?” Sirius asked.
There was a moment of hesitation from Amelia as she took a breath before responding. “Harry has been living with his muggle aunt and uncle, the Dursleys, as per Dumbledore’s arrangement with them. But the truth of that situation was that it was less than ideal for your godson.”
“What do you mean by that?” he demanded, closing his eyes as his stomach sank. “The Dursleys?” It took a second for his mind to connect the dots, but finally, it clicked. “Lily’s wretched older sister, right? Oh, sweet Merlin. What has happened to Harry?”
“Harry was not treated well there,” Amelia said, her gaze flickering down and then back to him. “In fact, it was recently discovered that he was living in a state of neglect. He has been removed from their care.”
Sirius’s knees threatened to buckle, and he staggered back slightly. His hands reached out to grip the chair in front of him. Harry. His Godson. The boy he had sworn to protect. “Where is Harry now?”
“He is being treated at St. Mungo’s and then will be placed with someone on his parents’ list of proper guardians. Probably, Andromeda Tonks, at least until a custody hearing can take place.”
“I should have been there. I promised James and Lily that I would protect him,” Sirius said, his voice breaking. “And Dumbledore left him with those monsters?”
“Harry is safe now,” Amelia assured him. “As I said, he will be taken care of. I give you my word that I will see to it personally. The Dursleys are being held accountable.”
Sirius closed his eyes, his breath coming in gasps as he tried to rein in his emotions. He had failed James, failed Lily, and failed Harry. But perhaps he still could make it right.
“And what about…” Sirius swallowed hard, “Dumbledore?”
“Dumbledore made a number of questionable decisions,” Amelia said. “He allowed Harry to be placed with his Muggle relatives despite the will of James and Lily explicitly prohibiting the placement. His influence is being scrutinized, especially after your case.”
Sirius stared at her, his mind struggling to keep up with the information. The idea that Dumbledore, the man who had always been hailed as the Leader of the Light, had manipulated things to this extent left him furious and reeling from the implications of that. What else had the Leader of the Light manipulated?
“Everything is falling apart,” he muttered, running a hand through his matted hair. “But I will be damned if I will not fight for Harry now.”
Amelia looked at him, seeming to understand what he was saying. “I promise you that you will have your chance. But first, you need to let us take care of you.” She gestured to the nearby Auror. “You will be given a shower and some decent clothes and food. You need to look like yourself for the trial.”
Sirius allowed them to lead him away. After two years of nothing but cold water, the hot shower was such an unexpected luxury. When he emerged from the washroom, his wild hair had been cut short, and the thick beard had finally succumbed after two different shaving spells. He’d forgotten what his face looked like. For all the things that were going right, the comforts that he suddenly had access to, Sirius still burned with the need to make things right for Harry.
He was given clean clothes, just a simple set of robes, but he was starting to feel like a human being again. Azkaban destroys more than the wizard’s soul, he thought. It destroys the wizard’s humanity. He looked in the mirror, barely recognizing himself.
After the starvation of Azkaban, eating even small amounts of fresh food for the first time in years, Sirius felt a flicker of life return to his body. It wasn’t much, but for the moment, it was enough to keep the little flame of hope alive in him. Although, there was some part of him that still expected to wake up back in Azkaban with all of this a dementor induced dream.
*****
The Following Day
Sirius glanced around Courtroom Number Ten. The tiers of seats rose up from the center of the circular room. He sat at the bottom of the last tier, alone in an iron chair. At least the heavy chains hung from the arms of the chair because they hadn’t bound him. Sirius would take his wins where he could get them.
Would this even be fair? Sirius wondered. His distrust of the Ministry ran deep after two years in Azkaban without a trial. He could not shake the sinking feeling he had that this might just be another way to humiliate him.
As he looked around, he caught sight of Arcturus Black, his grandfather, seated among the Wizengamot members in the Black Chair. Arcturus’s stern face was unreadable, but there was something in his gaze as he looked at Sirius that had not ever been there before.
That tiny spark of hope stirred again in Sirius’s chest. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t a trap. He supposed he would find out very shortly. And truthfully, it would surprise him less for all of this to be a deception than any chance of true justice for himself.
“This special session of the Wizengamot will come to order,” the clerk of the court announced. “Lady Griselda Marchbanks is acting Chief Witch.”
Marchbanks tapped her wand on the podium she sat in front of. “We shall begin,” she said.
Amelia Bones stepped forward to begin her opening arguments. Her tone and no-nonsense manner projected her authority. “We are here today to address the charges against Sirius Orion Black,” she said, her voice carrying throughout the chamber. “Mr. Black stands accused of the betrayal and murder of James and Lily Potter, the murder of Peter Pettigrew and twelve Muggles, and of conspiring with You-Know-Who. However, the Ministry has discovered new evidence. And in light of that, all the charges will be re-examined in this hearing to see if the accused should be remanded for trial or have the charges dropped entirely.”
Sirius’s barrister, Cassius Warrington, stood beside Sirius. Warrington’s presence was oddly comforting, even though Sirius did not fully trust him. Warrington’s appearance as his counsel had been a surprise. He was well-known for being a neutral, gray-leaning attorney, and surprisingly, Arcturus had provided his services to Sirius.
Warrington stood. “We intend to prove this was more than a clerical mistake. This was a grave miscarriage of justice that should not have happened at all. Sirius Black is not the criminal he was accused of being. Instead, he is an innocent wizard who was thrown into Azkaban without a trial,” Warrington said to the court. He had informed Sirius of what was going to be said before the trial. Sirius was still having some trouble believing this was happening.
Amelia nodded to Warrington. “First, it has come to the attention of this court that Peter Pettigrew, believed to be dead, is, in fact, alive. This was confirmed by the goblins, who ran a test on his vault. They and we believe he has been living in hiding as an unregistered Animagus, a rat.”
Murmurs broke out across the chamber. Sirius clenched his fists. Merlin, how he hated Pettigrew.
Amelia continued, “Pettigrew’s form allowed him to evade detection for years. This new information suggests that it was he, not Sirius Black, who betrayed the Potters to Voldemort.”
At this, Lord Lucius Malfoy shifted in his seat, his fingers steepling together as he leaned forward. “This is quite the claim, Madam Bones. Do you have evidence that this Peter Pettigrew is still alive?”
“Yes, Lord Malfoy,” Amelia said calmly. “We have had testimony from Remus Lupin that Pettigrew was, in fact, an Animagus. And could have survived.”
Sirius felt a tight knot in his chest loosen slightly.
Malfoy’s eyes narrowed. “A convenient story,” he drawled. “But this does not absolve Black of his other crimes. His supposed alignment with the Dark Lord.”
“Lord Malfoy, this court is here to review all the evidence, not to make unfounded accusations. If Pettigrew is the traitor, then why would Black be aligned with Voldemort when he was trying to protect his friends?” Lady Augusta Longbottom asked harshly. She was a witch who brooked no nonsense from anyone.
Sirius felt a rush of gratitude toward her, but he could not afford to hope. Having hope hurt too much.
Amelia pressed on. “Further evidence shows that Black was never given a trial after his arrest. This failure by the Ministry has directly led to two years of wrongful imprisonment in Azkaban without due process.”
“Madam Bones, are you suggesting the ministry should be held responsible for this oversight?” Lord Benedict Greengrass, one of the middle-ground wizards, asked.
Amelia nodded sharply. “Yes, Lord Greengrass. We are not only here to judge the crimes but also to assess the fairness of how justice, or the lack thereof, was carried out. The fact that Sirius Black was sent to Azkaban without a trial is a grave miscarriage of justice.”
“And what of Black’s reputation as a known troublemaker during his time at Hogwarts? There are plenty of wizards here who remember his rebellious nature,” Lord Nott said as if he’d been there. Which he hadn’t since he was old enough to be Sirius’ father.
Warrington stepped forward at that comment. “Rebellion and mischief as a teenager are hardly grounds for a life sentence in Azkaban, Lord Nott. My client fought against Voldemort alongside many light-leaning wizards and witches,” Warrington said evenly. “And many who died in the war.”
Sirius stood. He hoped he looked better than he felt. The robes his grandfather had sent him hung on him, but it felt good to be dressed in something that wasn’t rags or a prison robe. He had missed that. “I never betrayed James and Lily,” he said, sounding raspy, but at least it came out clearly. “They were my family. And I would rather have died myself than betray them to Voldemort.”
The room fell silent. Even Malfoy seemed momentarily taken aback by the raw emotions in Sirius’ words.
From his seat, Arcturus Black gave a subtle nod. That was enough to fill Sirius with more hope.
Amelia continued, “We have finally tested Sirius Black’s wand, which we had in storage and had never tested, and found that he did not, in fact, cast the spell that had blown up the street and killed those twelve Muggles. In light of this new evidence, we also submit that Peter Pettigrew framed Black for his own murder and the deaths of the twelve Muggles in the explosion. We believe that Pettigrew cast the spell, not Sirius.”
Warrington turned toward the Wizengamot. “We require a full exoneration of Sirius Black, and we will also be seeking restitution from the ministry’s failure to provide due process and for two years of pain and suffering due to their negligence,” Warrington demanded.
There was a growing murmur among the Wizengamot. It all seemed to run together, and Sirius could not make out a single specific thing.
Then, Lady Longbottom spoke again. “If this evidence is as clear as presented, I see no reason to continue this farce. Black deserves not only his freedom but an apology and reparations from the Ministry.”
Sirius swallowed hard. At the beginning, the weight of the trial and the eyes of so many watching him had been suffocating. But now, he felt something had shifted. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The clamp around his gut loosened.
Lord Malfoy sneered, “We still have much to discuss before clearing a man of such reputation.”
But before the conversation could devolve further, Arcturus stood and rapped his cane on the floor. “The House of Black stands behind its son, Sirius Black. He is my heir, and his innocence must be acknowledged. This trial is not just about justice for one man but for the integrity of our entire legal system. Need I remind you that a son of an Ancient and Noble House was thrown into Azkaban without a trial. This cannot be allowed to stand.”
Arcturus sounded unyielding, and Sirius felt a swell of gratitude towards him. His grandfather had spoken up for him. Not just because of the weight that the words Arcturus spoke carried, and Sirius could see that on the face of almost everyone in the chamber today, but it showed the world that his grandfather believed in him, that he knew that Sirius could not have committed the crimes they all had believed he did. And that meant the world to Sirius. Someone finally believed him, believed in him.
“I believe the evidence is clear,” Amelia declared. “Sirius Black was wrongfully imprisoned and could not have committed the crimes he was accused of. Peter Pettigrew is the true traitor. I call for a vote.”
“Seconded,” Lord Greengrass said firmly.
The room fell into a tense silence as the Wizengamot members prepared to cast their votes.
Sirius stood still, his heart hammering in his chest. This is it.
After a few agonizing moments, the final tally was read out loud.
“By a majority vote, Sirius Orion Black is acknowledged to have been wrongfully imprisoned and did not commit any of the crimes he was accused of. He will be given restitution for the pain and suffering that his imprisonment has caused him, as well as all medical expenses associated with his incarceration,” The Chief Witch declared.
Sirius’s knees almost buckled as the words rang through the chamber. He was free. Finally free.
He turned toward Arcturus. With a smile and a nod of approval, Arcturus reiterated his support. Sirius exhaled slowly. Two years in Azkaban had left its scars, but right now, Sirius finally had some hope for a future where he could fight for Harry, for the Potters’ legacy, and, maybe, for the House of Black, too.
As the courtroom began to clear, Arcturus approached him, his face unreadable as it ever was. For a moment, they just stood there, the tension between them thick.
“You did well, Sirius,” Arcturus said quietly. “Your name has been cleared. The Black Family stands behind you.”
“Thank you, sir,” Sirius whispered. He thought he should say something else, but he was still raw with the relief of finally being freed.
Arcturus seemed to understand without words. “We will take care of Harry together. The House of Black will be restored to its former glory.”
And for the first time in years, Sirius allowed himself to think there might be a future for him that didn’t include Azkaban.
*****
Chapter Four
The Wizengamot Chamber
A Few Days Later
Within a few days of his exoneration, Sirius Black was back at the ministry for another Wizengamot session. This time, for a hearing for Harry’s custody. He sat in the visitors’ section of the chamber. Even if the members had exonerated him, Sirius still didn’t trust any of them to do the right thing. Light, gray, or dark. Sirius could feel their eyes on him, judging him still.
Maybe that was unfair. Maybe not. As much as Sirius wanted to deny there might be a problem at all, he knew that Azkaban had left a deep mark on him. How could it not have? But he also knew his grandfather stood by him.
Arcturus had arranged for a mind healer, but Sirius just was not ready to think about what was done to him. Or why.
That said, Barty Crouch Sr.’s conviction and incarceration in Azkaban for not just his unlawful imprisonment but for the twelve others as well, had helped ease his mind. Maybe they put him in one of the former prisoners’ cells. That would be justice to Sirius.
But still, he’d been told Minister Bagnold’s days were numbered, and he hoped that was true. She was still in office right now.
And while Dumbledore had been stripped of his position as Chief Warlock, he was still Headmaster of Hogwarts and held other titles abroad.
Sirius tried to clear it from his mind. Those were problems for another day. Today, he had more important things to worry about. And it looked like it was going to start now.
“This emergency session of the Wizengamot will come to order,” the clerk of the court announced. ” Lady Griselda Marchbanks, acting Chief Witch presiding.”
Marchbanks tapped her wand to the podium, and a ringing sound filled the room. “We shall begin the custody hearing for Harry Potter,” she said.
Seated a few rows below Sirius, Amelia Bones rose to her feet, clearing her throat. “We are here to review the petition for custody of Harry James Potter, presented by Lord Arcturus Black III. He has requested temporary guardianship until Sirius Black is deemed well enough to take on full responsibility as the child’s godfather,” she said.
Almost immediately, Lucius Malfoy stood and inclined his head slightly. There was a very calculated gleam in his eyes. “Madam Bones, if I may,” he began, his tone deferential. “While I respect Lord Black’s intentions, I must argue that young Harry Potter’s placement deserves more careful consideration.” He glanced around the chamber, then continued, “My wife, Narcissa, is his closest surviving relative on the Black side.”
Sirius glanced at his grandfather, watching his eyes narrow and the briefest flicker of a smile forming at the corner of his mouth. He stood. “I would remind you that neither you nor Narcissa Black Malfoy are mentioned in the wills of James and Lily Potter. I am asking for a temporary alteration of the existing custody plan, you are requesting that the custodial list be disregarded,” Arcturus said, and his glance toward Malfoy was cold as ice.
A spark of satisfaction crept into Sirius’ heart as he saw the slight clenching of Malfoy’s jaw. He wasn’t going to be able to counter that.
Not that Malfoy missed a beat. “Be that as it may, Lord Black,” Malfoy continued, “Surely you understand the importance of proper influence and environment. My family has both the means and, shall we say, appropriate perspective to raise the child.”
Sirius’s fists clenched at his sides. Long before today, he had already had enough of Lucius Malfoy to last him the rest of his life. “And just what would those perspectives be, Lucius?” Sirius asked, keeping the annoyance out of his tone. “Harry is my sworn godson, not some pawn to be molded by you.”
“Enough, all of you,” Lady Augusta Longbottom snapped. She was wearing a hat with a ridiculously large black vulture attached to the top of it. “It is quite clear that Harry Potter belongs with those who will honor the legacy of his parents.”
“Lord Malfoy, I find it difficult to see how your arguments carry sufficient weight here. As Harry Potter has a direct tie to the Black family, both legally and by blood, the matter of custody lies squarely with them,” Lord Greengrass said, sounding very calm and reasonable.
“I would like to remind you that my wife, Narcissa Black Malfoy, is a daughter of the Black family as well. Lord Black’s grandchild just as Sirius is.” Malfoy sneered.
“However,” Lord Greengrass continued. “She is not named as his sworn Godmother, and her relationship to Harry is not as direct as Lord Black’s.”
Sirius could see the fury flash across Malfoy’s face, and it gave Sirius no end of satisfaction.
Finally, Arcturus gave a short nod. “The Black family will see to it that young Harry is raised well, secure, and safe among those who will honor his bloodline. I will assume temporary guardianship while my grandson recuperates. No further argument is necessary.”
“I call for a vote,” Lady Longbottom said and smirked at Malfoy.
“I second it,” Greengrass said.
Malfoy glared, but there was nothing he could do about it because the vote went against him.
After a tense pause, the Chief Witch addressed the assembly. “The Wizengamot has decided,” Chief Witch Marchbanks announced. “Custody of Harry James Potter will remain within the Black family. Lord Arcturus Black will assume temporary guardianship and Sirius Black will assume full responsibility when he is able.”
Relief flooded Sirius’ as he met his grandfather’s gaze, and Arcturus’s expression softened just enough to let Sirius know he was pleased with the outcome.
Arcturus met him down on the floor as Sirius was leaving to get Harry from St. Mungo’s. “Retrieve Harry and go home, Sirius,” Arcturus said. “The elves are expecting Harry and will tend to him. You both have much to recover from, and you will be safe at Black Manor.”
“Where are you going?” Sirius asked. He appreciated that Arcturus was going to shelter both of them while they recovered from what should never have happened.
“I have a meeting at Gringotts this afternoon. More family business that needs attending to before we have the family meeting,” he said. “You will blood adopt Harry then, and I will sanctify it in Black Magic. There will be no question that he is a Black and your heir.”
Relief surged through Sirius. “Thank you, Grandfather,” he said and was horrified when his voice broke. “Will that change anything where his Potter heritage is concerned?”
“Of course not,” Arcturus said. “He will still carry the Potter name and still be entitled to his full inheritance from them as well. He will carry both titles.”
“Thank you again,” Sirius said.
Arcturus glanced at him for a moment. “Blood and loyalty are what matters, Sirius. Now go. Get the boy and bring him home.”
*****
St. Mungo’s Hospital
An Hour Later
Sirius Black walked through the stark white corridors of the hospital. The sharp scent of antiseptic potions hung in the air. His heart squeezed tightly in his chest as he thought about what could have been done to Harry by Lily’s horrible sister. It was all Sirius could do not to go and find Petunia and her family and curse them silly.
As he reached the door that said: Pediatrics Recovery Ward, he’d got himself under control again. Revenge would wait. Harry needed him right now, and he had to be there to care for him.
“Mr. Black,” Healer Emory Greaves said. “Come in. Harry’s awake and doing much better.”
Sirius stepped into the room, his gaze sweeping the area, looking for Harry. He was sitting on a large bed, his messy black hair sticking out in all directions, looking so much like James’ had. His eyes were wide and curious, so much like Lily’s. Sirius’ breath hitched. He needed to not think about his friends right now and concentrate on taking care of Harry.
“Hey, pup,” Sirius murmured, forcing a smile.
“Who are you?” Harry asked softly, but there was an edge of boldness there. That gave Sirius hope.
“I am your godfather, Sirius,” he said, kneeling by the bed. “Do you remember me?”
“Padfoot?” Harry asked, his eyes lighting.
“Yes, your Padfoot. I am here to take you home with me,” Sirius promised.
Harry blinked, uncertainty flickering across his face, but he raised his arms, and Sirius took that as an invitation. Merlin, it felt so good to hold him close. Tears started to form in Sirius’ eyes, but he blinked them back. Now was not the time.
Healer Greaves cleared her throat, drawing Sirius’s attention. He gently put Harry back on his bed. “I need to talk to the healer, but then I will take you home very soon.”
“Not to the mean people?” Harry asked. “I do not like them.”
Sirius tried to keep his rage off his face. He did not want to scare Harry. “No, pup. You will never see them again. I promise you that.”
Harry looked relieved. And Sirius turned towards the healer, hoping for good news.
“He has responded well to the potions we have administered,” she said. “The malnutrition is under control, and the infection in his chest is clearing up nicely.”
“Infection? Has he been sick?” Sirius asked, his jaw tightening.
“For some time,” Greaves said. “His immune system was weakened, likely from the neglect. But there is something else.” She met his eyes. “There is a much more serious complication.”
“What kind of complication?” Sirius asked and took a few steps away from Harry’s bed.
Greaves hesitated before continuing. “His scar. We have never seen anything quite like it. It radiates dark magic. It is something old and, for lack of a better word, unclean. Nothing has been done to it since the initial wound.”
Sirius’s stomach twisted. “What does that mean for Harry?”
“It’s difficult to say,” Greaves admitted. “We cannot fully assess the damage or its implications here. I recommend you take him to the goblins. They have techniques for handling ancient dark magic that we cannot match.”
“Thank you,” he said, his gut clenching with the implications. He looked at Harry, who was playing idly with the edge of his blanket. Whatever this was, he would make it right for Harry.
“We are here to help,” Greaves replied. “He is a strong little boy. With the right kind of care, he will be just fine.”
Sirius nodded and moved back towards the bed. “Come on, Harry,” he said as he lifted the boy back into his arms. “We have got a lot to sort out.”
*****
Gringotts
An Hour Later
Arcturus moved across the lobby towards the corridor where the private meeting rooms were located. He found the room and went in, taking a seat at the head of the conference table.
To his right, Andromeda Tonks sat with her husband beside her. Her eyes were wary, but her expression was proud. Edward Tonks was a Muggleborn and had been the source of her estrangement from the family.
Andromeda’s daughter, Nymphadora, sat beside her. She was about ten by Arcturus’ calculations, almost ready for Hogwarts. She was sitting with her legs swinging back and forth in the chair, her hair shifting between a vivid shade of turquoise and a bright fuchsia as she looked around with obvious fascination.
Arcturus allowed his gaze to soften as it rested on Andromeda. She had made her own way in the world and was finishing her residency as a healer, something her father would have forbidden her had he had a say. Arcturus would not fault her for wanting more than what she had been offered by her parents. That she had chosen love over family and stuck to it, asking nothing from the family, was something he could admire even if he wished she had talked to him about her desires before she had run away.
He had no idea how she would react to his invitation when he had sent it and was relieved when she had agreed to meet with him.
“It has been a long time, Andromeda,” he said.
Andromeda looked at him, and unsurprisingly, her expression was guarded. “It has, Grandfather. I never expected to be speaking with you again, especially not after I married Ted.”
Arcturus nodded, acknowledging her words. “Your choices were your own to make, Andromeda. But despite what others said, I am sure you recognize that I never removed you from the Black Family magic.”
“Just from being legally a Black,” she said, sounding surprisingly bitter about it.
“I admit to being wrong about that. I was swayed by Cygnus’ insistence that because you had broken the engagement he’d established that you deserved to be punished for it,” Arcturus said. It was true. He wished now that he had investigated further and not just taken Cygnus’ word for it.
“I am aware of your reasoning,” Andromeda replied. “I would not have stood for an arranged marriage to anyone, but certainly not someone I did not have any respect for. Or someone who might be dangerous to me or any children I might have.”
“I am aware of that as well,” Arcturus said. He paused, glancing at Edward, offering him a slight nod of acknowledgment. “And now, I wish to formally reinstate you into the family.”
Edward shifted slightly, clearly surprised. “You mean, despite my being Muggleborn?”
“Yes, Mr. Tonks,” Arcturus said with a faint smile. “Despite what our society might say, I have come to care more about character and loyalty than blood purity. If Andromeda chose you, then you are part of the family.” He glanced at Nymphadora and then turned back to Andromeda. “You have raised a fine family, Andromeda.”
Nymphadora was watching their interaction with obvious curiosity, and she reached up and touched her hair, which promptly turned a very loud shade of scarlet and stuck out in all directions for a moment. She giggled as her mother patted her shoulder to settle her.
“And you must be Nymphadora, yes?” he said to her. “A Metamorphmagus, I see. Quite a rare gift.”
Nymphadora grinned back at him, clearly delighted. Her hair cycling through various shades of purple and red. “Oh, please don’t call me that. Mum says the ability is from being a Black. She says we always stand out,” she declared.
“If not Nymphadora, then what should I call you?” Arcturus asked, unable to keep from smiling at her. She was a delightful child, so confident.
“Call me Dora, please. What should I call you?” Dora asked, looking at him and continuing to grin happily.
“I’m your great-grandfather, so what would you like to call me?” he asked her very seriously. “It is a serious decision. You are the oldest, so you will need to decide for all your cousins.”
She sat up straight, looking delighted by the question. “What about Pop-Pop? That’s what my friend Jane calls her great-grandfather.”
“Uh…” Andromeda started to object, clearly horrified by the suggestion.
“Well, I think that is a fine name for me,” Arcturus said, smiling at Dora. “You may call me that.”
“Thanks, Pop-Pop!” Dora said, smiling brightly, her hair turning a brilliant blue and then back to bright pink.
Andromeda laughed, shaking her head. “Nymphadora has definitely inherited a good deal of her uniqueness from the Black side.”
Arcturus nodded approvingly. “I think the Black family could use a bit of color.” He looked back at Andromeda and said more seriously, “This should be a new beginning for us, Andromeda. I will see that Gringotts completes the formalities. And Edward,” he inclined his head. “If I might call you that?”
Edward nodded. “Ted is what most people call me, Lord Black.”
“Ted then,” Arcturus said. “And you may call me Grandfather or Arcturus as you please. Your work as an attorney would be welcomed by the family in these times.”
Ted looked surprised but also very pleased. “It would be an honor to serve the family in any way I can, Grandfather.”
Arcturus glanced at Dora, whose hair was now bright green, and he chuckled. “And you, young lady, are a talented little witch. The Black family will need it in the future.”
Dora beamed up at him, clearly enchanted by his approval. Andromeda’s eyes softened.
Arcturus nodded at her. Their family would be whole and healthy again very soon. “You will get a notice of a Black family meeting in the next few days.”
Now, Andromeda’s eyes widened. “There hasn’t been one in years.”
“I have been neglectful in my duty as Lord of the House of Black. That stops today,” Arcturus vowed.
*****
A Few Hours Later
Back at Black Manor, Sirius paced the sitting room, dragging his fingers through his hair. Arcturus Black sat in an armchair, his expression unreadable, a glass of fire whiskey in his hand.
“There is dark magic in his scar, Grandfather,” Sirius said, trying to control his fear. “Dark magic in the scar. What does that even mean?”
Arcturus sipped his drink, setting the glass down on the end table. “It means,” he said. “That someone intended to do severe harm to Harry. You do not get that kind of magic by accident.”
“Who?” Sirius growled. “And why? He was just a baby!”
“If the scar carries Voldemort’s magic, there could be other complications,” Arcturus said.
Sirius sank into the chair opposite his grandfather, his legs trembling. The implications of that were horrifying. “The healer said the goblins might know what to do.”
“I believe they will. They are very knowledgeable about dark and black magics,” Arcturus said. “We shall take Harry there immediately. Whatever this is, it must be dealt with quickly.”
“I cannot lose him,” Sirius said, his throat tightening. “He is all I have left of James and Lily. I promised them that I would always take care of him.”
Arcturus’s expression softened. “We will protect him, Sirius. It is our duty to protect our own.”
“Thank you,” Sirius said. “For everything.”
His grandfather had seemed distant when he was a child, and Sirius had never known exactly where he stood. That was why he’d gone to the Potter’s when his mother had disowned him. Now, he wondered if he’d made a mistake with that. He had loved James and his whole family, but his grandfather might not have been as bad a choice as he had thought then. He sighed. There was no unmaking the past. All he could do now was go on and hopefully make a life for himself and for Harry.
*****
The Following Day
Gringotts’ healing halls in the bank were unlike anything Sirius had ever seen. The white rock walls gleamed, and the air smelled so clean without the sterile smell of a Wizarding hospital. The goblin healer, Glint Thistlewild, stood before them, her hands clasped, her face serious.
Harry sat on a low chair nearby with his legs dangling. As he glanced around the room, his eyes were filled with curiosity.
Healer Glint gestured for Sirius and Arcturus to step closer. “I have examined the boy thoroughly,” she began in a no nonsense tone. “There is a shard of dark magic embedded in the child’s scar. It is not merely a curse. I believe it to be a fragment of a soul.”
Sirius closed his eyes as he felt the blood drain from his face. “A soul fragment? Dear Merlin, do you mean –”
“A Horcrux,” Arcturus said grimly, his face also paling.
Healer Glint nodded. “Yes. I cannot say with certainty how it came to be, but it is clear that this is a piece of Voldemort’s soul that is tethering itself to the child.”
“The only way it could have come to be was through a ritual that would require the cold-blooded murder of someone,” Arcturus said.
Sirius sucked in a breath. “James or Lily.”
Arcturus nodded, looking gray.
“Please tell me you can remove it,” Sirius begged.
“It will be difficult and dangerous,” Healer Glint said. “The process requires precise magical cleansing, and the child will likely experience pain during the extraction.”
Sirius’s stomach clenched as he glanced at Harry, who was now playing with a silver goblin trinket the healer had given him to distract him. “He does not deserve this,” Sirius said hoarsely.
“No child deserves this,” Healer Glint agreed. “But we can help him. It must be done as soon as possible. The longer it stays in him, the harder it will be to remove it. And the worse it will be for him to have it done.”
Arcturus stepped forward, his expression determined. “We will do whatever it takes to see this happen. Harry must be freed of that abomination. Today, if possible.”
Healer Glint inclined her head. “Today, then. I will prepare the necessary rituals. It will take me about an hour. You will both stay with him during the process. It will help anchor the boy’s spirit to this world.”
Sirius dropped to his knees in front of Harry. “Hey, pup,” he said softly. “We are going to fix your scar, okay? It might hurt a bit, but Pop-pop and I will be right here the whole time.”
Harry raised his hand to his scar. “Fix it? It hurts sometimes.”
“That is why we are going to fix it for you. So it will not hurt you anymore. And you will be well.” Merlin, Sirius hoped that was true. It was unfair that so much had hurt his boy in the short time he had been alive.
“You won’t leave me? You promise?” Harry asked, looking a little scared and maybe a little defiant.
“I swear it,” Sirius said. “We will both be there with you.”
Arcturus stood behind them. As Healer Glint began her preparations, Sirius wrapped Harry in his arms, hoping that this would be the last of the horrors his godson would have to endure.
The ritual was as awful for all of them as Healer Glint said it would be. Harry screamed several times, and once the Horcrux was pulled free, another goblin who was not introduced and was dressed in all black, captured it in a glass tube-like container. The Horcrux screamed and seemed to slam against the glass but was unable to break it. The other goblin held it firmly.
“Thank you,” Sirius said as the goblin holding the glass container left the room. He just nodded without ever saying a word.
Harry was unconscious, and his scar bled freely once the Horcrux was removed. Healer Glint wiped up the blood and closed the wound. “It should heal now without scaring. I do not believe that anyone who saw that scar could have missed the dark magic in it.”
“It would seem that someone wanted Harry to suffer under the influence of that abomination,” Arcturus said roughly, his anger easy to see. “We will have to investigate why that would be true.”
Dumbledore. Sirius was infuriated that he had done nothing. There was no way he did not know what that scar was.
“That anyone would leave that in a child is unconscionable,” Healer Glint said. “But it is gone now, and Harry should be fine in a few days. You can take him home in an hour or two.”
“Thank you so much,” Sirius said, grateful beyond words.
*****
Chapter Five
Black Manor
Two Days Later
In the family meeting room in Black Manor, Arcturus sat at the head of the long table. The members of the Black family gathered around him, some murmuring in curiosity and some in veiled disdain. The walls of the room were decorated with tapestries depicting the Black family crest and the family tree. All of them were embroidered with the motto, “Toujours Pur,” on the bottom in silver and black.
A large fireplace dominated one wall, the fire casting a golden glow over the room. Under the watchful eye of Tessy, a nanny house elf, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter sat on a thick blanket close to the fire. She was dressed in a black skirt and white blouse with a black apron over it and a small mob cap on her head.
The two children regarded each other with uncertainty, shifting slightly as they looked closely at each other. Harry reached toward him, his fingers brushing against Draco’s sleeve, and Draco smiled tentatively at him and took his hand. That made Harry smile, too.
Arcturus cleared his throat, silencing the whispers. “Thank you all for coming here today. It has been too many years since this family last gathered.” He glanced at each of them.
Cassiopeia Black was seated nearest the door, and she had crossed her arms as she rolled her eyes. “I can’t understand why I am even here,” she said with utter disinterest. “It is not as if I am involved in any of the current family affairs. Or have any interest in being involved.”
“Nor I,” Cedrella Black Weasley added, looking pointedly at Arcturus. “In fact, I thought I had been disowned for my choice of husband many years ago.”
Arcturus smiled at both of them. Both of his younger cousins had not changed over the years and were still very much their own witches, not likely to have followed the Dark Lord, or anyone else for that matter. “Whatever your status is, you are still Blacks,” he said. His words seemed to hang in the air, and those around him appeared uncertain of what he meant by that.
At the far end of the table, Narcissa Malfoy leaned forward slightly, her gaze fixed on Andromeda Tonks, who sat across from her. “Why are you here?” she asked coldly. “You left us. You chose to turn your back on all the Black traditions.”
Andromeda glared back at her sister. “I was invited, Narcissa,” she replied, a hint of defiance in her tone. “Just like you were.”
Arcturus drew in a breath. “Enough. There is no time for petty grievances today.” And everyone in the room was silent. “I have called you here to discuss matters that affect the entire House of Black.
First and foremost, let me make this as straightforward as possible. Sirius is my heir. And Harry Potter,” he nodded in Harry’s direction. “Harry Potter is Sirius’ heir. These matters are not open to debate.”
A ripple of surprise passed over several faces in the room. Cygnus Black shifted in his seat, his mouth opening as if to speak.
Arcturus raised his hand, cutting him off. “You have no right or standing to object to what I do as Lord Black,” Arcturus said. He needed to make sure his family understood that this was not up for discussion. They had no say. “It is my decision and mine alone. And it has been made.”
Sirius was standing near the fireplace, keeping an eye on Harry and Draco, and he smiled. Andromeda gave him a slight nod.
“After today’s family meeting, we will formally blood-adopt Harry as Sirius’ son,” Arcturus continued, and he could see that his words had shocked some of them. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t surprised that he could see nearly everyone’s agreement or disagreement in their expression.
There was a beat of silence before Cassiopeia huffed, flicking a dismissive hand at the rest of them. “Well, it is about time you acknowledged that,” she said, smirking at him. “Toujours Pur has never meant pure blood. It really means, at least historically speaking, the purity of our magic. And I have been trying to get that through to some of you for years.”
“Indeed, Cassiopeia, so you have said often enough. And then, as now, you are correct,” Arcturus agreed. His gaze swept across the room. “Our family’s decline has come from this corrosive notion of blood purity. The House of Black is on the verge of ruin, and that will end now. Today.”
His statement ignited more murmuring that intensified quickly into full protest. Walburga Black’s face contorted in disbelief and then rage. She got to her feet, pointing a finger at Arcturus. “You are mad. Blood purity is what has given this family power, wealth, respect–”
“Silence!” Arcturus cut through her protest. “The Black family has been disgraced by this level of prejudice and of clinging to ways that put this family at a disadvantage in the greater Wizarding World. If you wish to remain in this family, you will let go of these outdated beliefs,” Arcturus ordered. He was done with debating the merits of his decisions. There would be no disobedience allowed, especially from his son’s wife.
“And you think you have the power to simply dictate the beliefs of this family? You may be Lord Black, but–” Cygnus scoffed, sounding bitter and mocking.
“That title gives me every right to expel those who bring shame to our house,” Arcturus said, looking right at Cygnus. “Those marked by the Dark Lord are no longer welcome in this family.”
A fresh wave of disagreement erupted, and Cygnus rose from his chair, his face twisted in fury. “You cannot expel me,” he sneered. “I am a son of the House of Black. How would you even know who is marked?”
“Are you foolish enough to ask that question in this room? Can you not read the runes on the table?” Arcturus asked, running a finger along the first set of runes cut into the table in front of him. “Only those of Black blood can even enter this room.” He moved his hand to the next set. “And only the truth can be told here.” Then, he smiled coldly at Cygnus. “And if you raise your wand with violent intent to Lord Black anywhere in this house, the wards will strike you down.”
Arcturus let all of those revelations hang in the air before he glanced at Orion, who sat in silence, watching the proceedings with a strange, almost distant calm. “Orion, do you have an opinion?”
Orion glanced at him and shrugged. “No. I do not.”
That was not the answer he was expecting. In fact, he thought Orion would act more like Cygnus, ranting and raving. “I see.” Something was not right here. He turned to Walburga. “Tell me, Walburga, have you been poisoning me?”
Walburga’s face twisted as she struggled against the compulsion of the room’s enchantments. She looked at Orion, then at Arcturus, before reluctantly answering, “No. Orion was doing that.”
Arcturus’s gut clenched, and he knew while she might be telling the truth, it was not the whole truth. Orion sat unblinking, not even defending himself. A dark thought occurred to Arcturus as he turned back to Walburga. “Have you been using potions or putting my son under Imperius?”
A look of fury crossed Walburga’s face as she visibly fought against the room’s magic. Finally, she pulled out her wand, but it was useless here, and she knew it. She was shaking as she was compelled to answer. “Yes,” Walburga finally admitted.
“How long?” Arcturus asked with a deadly softness. She would pay for this outrage, and now the question was how much damage she had done.
“Years,” she spat through gritted teeth, still fighting the room.
Arcturus didn’t react, but he saw Sirius straighten up, looking horrified. Narcissa and Andromeda both sucked in shocked breaths. Several others at the table also looked stunned. “Who else has helped you?” Arcturus asked.
Again, Walburga struggled, her wand trembling in her hand. “Cygnus and Druella,” she finally admitted.
Still on his feet and looming over the table, Cygnus did not even flinch. “The Dark Lord told us to do this,” he said coldly. “And we agreed. It was for the family, for our future. Not everyone here understands this is the way it has to be. He will return.” He met Arcturus’ eyes. “I know he will return.”
Arcturus took a long, deep breath. There was no choice anymore. “So be it, then. Walburga and Cygnus, you are expelled from the family magic and from Black Manor.” He waved his wand at them, and they gasped and seemed to shrink in on themselves. The look on both of their faces was utterly disbelieving.
“Walburga, I would warn you that when Orion is well, I will push for him to divorce you. Your days are numbered in the Black townhouse in London.”
“You cannot possibly do that to me –”
“Oh, yes, I can. You have disgraced this family for the last time,” Arcturus said, furious beyond words. “Rammy.”
The Black Manor head house elf, dressed in black trousers and a white shirt with a black waistcoat that had the Black crest on the front pocket, popped into the room. “How can I serve, Lord Black,” he said crisply.
“Would you please escort them,” Arcturus waved to Walburga and Cygnus, who were both silent and subdued. “As well as Druella Rosier Black, out of Black Manor. They are no longer welcome.”
He held his hand out. “Accio Black Manor Ward Book,” Arcturus said. And a book slapped into his hand. He made the necessary adjustments to the names of those who could access the house.
Rammy stepped forward to escort both Cygnus and Walburga from the room. The two of them left in silence. When they went through the door, Walburga glared bitterly back at Arcturus and the rest of the family. Once they were gone, Arcturus let out a small sigh of relief.
The door closed, and Orion blinked at him. “Thank you, Father,” he said in a low hoarse voice. “I had not thought I would ever be free of her. As soon as it can be arranged, I want a divorce and to have her gone from Grimmauld Place as well.”
“We will see it done. Now, though, we must get you the help you need to recover,” Arcturus said. “Daisy?”
Daisy popped in, wearing a uniform similar to Tessy’s. “What can Daisy do for you, Lord Black?”
“Please prepare a room for Orion and take him there. He will need rest. Also, if you would, please summon Healer Fauntleroy to attend him.”
“Of course, Lord Black,” Daisy said. “Give me a minute.” She popped out and then came back one minute later. “The Black guest room is ready.”
“Thank you, Daisy,” Arcturus said. “Orion?”
She held out her hand to Orion, and he stood and took it. She popped out with him.
*****
Arcturus looked at the faces of those who remained. This meeting had already irrevocably altered their family. The silence that followed was filled with those contemplating his decisions. This was the beginning of a new era for the House of Black. An era that he hoped would see their rise to prominence in the Wizarding World again, not just in Britain but worldwide.
With that thought, Arcturus rose from his seat. “This is only the beginning of what needs to be done today. Before we get to that, as Lord Black, I ask each of you to tell me, do any of you have the Dark Mark? We will go around the table, and you will tell me one by one the answer to that question. We shall begin with Sirius?”
Sirius was still standing by the fireplace, watching over the two children playing there. “No, my lord, I do not have the dark mark,” he said firmly.
There was no surprise there. Arcturus glanced at those around the table. “Cassiopeia?” he asked. “Do you have the dark mark?”
Cassiopeia snorted and shook her head. “Not on your life, Lord Black.”
He smiled at her and then turned to Cedrella. “Do you have the dark mark?”
“No. I do not have the dark mark, Lord Black,” she said. “And neither does my husband, Septimus Weasley.” Though no one would think that a Weasley of any type would have the dark mark, but especially not Arthur Weasley’s father.
“Lucretia?” Arcturus asked. His daughter Lucretia Prewett hadn’t spoken at all since entering the room.
She shook her head. “No, Lord Black, I do not. My husband, Ignatius Prewett, also does not have the dark mark,” Lucretia said.
“Andromeda?” Arcturus knew the answer before he asked, but given how he phrased the question, everyone needed to speak the answer.
“I do not have the dark mark, Lord Black,” Andromeda said with a glance at Narcissa. “My husband, Edward Tonks, also does not have the dark mark.”
“I also do not have the dark mark,” Narcissa said, her eyes narrowing. “However, my husband, Lucius Malfoy, does.” She met Arcturus’ eyes across the table. “What would you like to do about that?”
“According to Wizengamot court records, he was forced to take the mark under Imperius,” Arcturus said. He was surprised by her question and asked one of his own. “What do you say to that?”
“I would say that forcing me to admit the truth of that statement would put my life, and more importantly, my son’s life, at risk.” She was still making eye contact with him, and since she knew he was a skilled Legilimens, she was allowing him to do a brief scan of her mind. It showed him that she was unhappy in her marriage and that she was allowing him to know that in hopes that he would do something for her.
Arcturus was not surprised by any of that. Anyone tainted with the dark mark was not going to be a good parent or spouse. “I see. We can discuss this now or wait until after the blood adoption ceremony.
Narcissa glanced around at the rest of the people in the room. “I would discuss it now rather than with Lucius in the room.”
“Do you have grounds for divorce?” Arcturus asked. “Or for an annulment?”
“I have grounds for both. His magic is corrupted by the dark mark. His mind has become increasingly unstable, and I believe it will get worse over time.” Narcissa glanced at Andromeda. “This was not what I agreed to when I said I would marry him.”
As far as Arcturus knew, she had wanted Lucius at the time of the marriage. But things could change over the years, especially with the corruption that ate into most of those with the dark mark.
“Has he fulfilled the terms of your marriage contract?” Cassiopeia asked. “If he has not, then that would be grounds for immediate divorce.”
“Are you suddenly a lawyer, Aunt Cassiopeia?” Narcissa snapped. And then sighed. “Forgive me. I would like to be quit of Lucius as quickly as it can be arranged.”
“Well, there are several options for you,” Arcturus said. “One, as Cassiopeia said, he has not fulfilled the terms of your contract.”
“He has not. He was supposed to give me two children, and now that his magic is so corrupted, I would not let him touch me or create a potential child. He was also supposed to give me a stipend, and instead, I have been using the Black stipend I get to support the family.”
She looked down and then back at Arcturus. “Beyond that, there is almost no Malfoy family magic left, and what is there is corrupted beyond what is tolerable. I do not wish that to be bestowed upon my son. I would much prefer him to be a part of the Black family magic and remove what little Malfoy influence there is, if that is possible.”
“How will Lucius take that?” Sirius asked. “Because I do not see him simply allowing you to leave, especially not with his son.”
“Oh, I agree with you about that, cousin,” Narcissa said, looking somber and possibly worried, though it was unlikely she would let that show unless she wanted to make a point. “So, it must be done quickly and with extreme prejudice. There can be no questioning it during or after the fact.”
“Which means before you leave here today,” Arcturus said. “I can have him removed from the Manor, and we will recast the Fidelis, which I was planning to do today after the adoption, anyway.”
“I would like to attend the adoption,” Narcissa said. “I think it will be good for Draco to get to know his cousin.”
“And heir,” Sirius added, raising an eyebrow in a question that needed to be asked.
Narcissa inclined her head. “He will lose the Malfoy inheritance, such that it is. So, he will grow up surrounded by family and without unrealistic expectations. Lucius was already scheming to claim the Black title in Draco’s name.”
Arcturus laughed at the absurdity of that. “I do not believe it is up to him to designate an heir to the Black family.”
“You would think not, but that does not mean he would not scheme to take it,” Narcissa said.
“All right, we should continue with this discussion after the blood adoption,” Arcturus looked around the room. “Any other business we need to attend to?”
As he glanced around the table, no one said anything further. “Then we will adjourn. We will be meeting at least once or twice a year from now on.”
*****
Cassiopeia put a hand on his arm as Arcturus was about to leave the meeting room. “I have not asked this for some time, but –”
“You are still in touch with your brother?” Arcturus was shocked again that she had never let Marius go.
“Of course I am,” she snapped. “I love him. He is and was my brother, despite whether or not he had magic. We have always been too ready to throw people out of this family for any reason. I would like him to be reinstated as a Black.”
Arcturus looked around. Sirius was holding Harry on his hip, but the rest of the room had cleared. “I would have to think about that. He is a Black, but it has been more than fifty years –”
“And it is high time for us to right this wrong,” Cassiopeia said.
“Would he even want that now,” Sirius asked, standing beside them. “He was rejected so long ago and clearly has made a life for himself in the Muggle world.”
“He is quite successful. And has a family. Children and grandchildren. I have never brought the subject up with him. I didn’t want to hurt him with it a second time.”
Sirius cleared his throat. “It must have been devastating for Marius to suddenly be taken from his family and put in the Muggle world without any hope of seeing them again. It is actually a barbaric practice.”
Arcturus nodded. He understood what she was saying. “Perhaps you can ask him how he might feel about it. I am not unsympathetic to this problem. But now, there is no place in this world for squibs.”
“I think we can change that,” Cassiopeia said, glancing at Sirius. “If we changed it for this family, we could maybe do something for the rest of Wizarding Britain. In other countries, they do not abandon their children like this.”
“Speak with him, Cassiopeia, and let us know what he would like to do.” That was all Arcturus could do. He could accept Marius back, but right now, the Wizarding World was not a place for squibs. Maybe that could change in time. He had some hope.
*****
The Black Family ritual room was the oldest room in the manor, and it was literally soaked in magic and generations of traditions. To Narcissa, it gave the room a sense of ongoing history. The stone walls were etched with shimmering silver runes that let her feel the power that radiated from them and the hum of magic at all times.
In the center stood a raised dais, and an emerald-encrusted chalice sat upon an intricately carved pedestal. It glittered under the soft glow of enchanted lights.
Narcissa stood with her hands clasped in front of her, keeping her expression calm despite the emotions roiling in her stomach. She watched as Sirius knelt before the pedestal, Harry beside him. The boy looked small and undersized. He obviously did not understand the gravity of the moment. But he stayed close to Sirius.
The room was filled with quiet murmurs as the rest of the family found places around the dais. Arcturus Black stood watching all of them. Andromeda and Edward Tonks stood near the edge of the dais. Beside them, their daughter Nymphadora stood, her hair shifting between a multitude of colors, her excitement so apparent. Narcissa was amazed and pleased to see a Metamorphmagus in the family again.
Draco stood beside Narcissa, holding her hand. Lucius loomed behind her, his presence like a smoldering fire waiting for its chance to erupt. Narcissa ignored him. She would rather keep her focus on the ritual than think about what was coming after it.
She had spoken briefly with her grandfather, and he had assured her that Lucius could do nothing while in Black Manor.
As she watched, Sirius turned to Harry. “Pup, this will bind you to the Black family forever,” Sirius said. “I promise you will never be alone again. Do you trust me?”
“Yes, Padfoot,” Harry said.
Sirius smiled at him, his face softening.
Arcturus raised his hands. “Now we will begin,” he said, strong and clear. “We welcome Harry James Potter into our family.”
Sirius held a ceremonial dagger. Without hesitation, he pricked his finger, letting a drop of blood fall into the chalice. He took Harry’s hand, murmuring words of comfort, and gently guided the boy’s finger to touch the blade. Harry winced but did not cry out as his blood mingled with Sirius’s in the chalice. Sirius stood and put the chalice back on the pedestal, reaching down to take Harry’s hand again.
Arcturus waved his wand, and the blood swirled together, glowing faintly. He murmured the incantation, and everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath. The glow intensified, and a tendril of magic rose from the chalice, curling like smoke around Harry and Sirius before it sank into both of their chests.
Harry gasped and then laughed. “Feels good,” he murmured.
He was still clutching Sirius’s hand, and Sirius knelt again and pulled him close. “It does feel good,” Sirius agreed.
Harry’s arms went around Sirius, and he nodded.
“It is done,” Arcturus said reverently. “Harry James Potter is now Harry James Potter-Black, heir to the House of Black.”
Applause broke out from Andromeda and Ted, as well as the rest of the Black family who were gathered there with their spouses and children. Draco clapped hesitantly, looking to Narcissa for reassurance.
She placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him. Draco’s smile filled her with warmth. She loved her son more than anything in this world, and she would do anything to keep him safe.
“You are one of us now, Harry,” Narcissa said softly. Her voice carried across the room, and Harry looked up at her, his eyes wide with delight, and she smiled at him. Even across the room, she could feel Harry’s pleasure in being accepted by everyone.”
“Welcome, Harry,” Andromeda added warmly, stepping forward to kneel in front of him and embrace him. “We are glad you are here with us.”
He hugged Andromeda, back and then Ted and finally Nymphadora. Draco walked across the room and hugged Harry, too. They were so adorable. He was going to make a good friend for Draco, Narcissa decided.
*****
With the ritual concluded, the rest of the Black family began congratulating Sirius and Harry. But Lucius stood stiffly near the entrance, his face twisted in fury. Narcissa could feel the anger radiating off him, but she refused to acknowledge it. He was likely to get angrier still before this day was done. She was looking forward to that. After all that Lucius had done and failed to do over the years, she was positively gleeful with the thought of what the day’s end would bring to him. Not that she’d let any of that show.
As the crowd of family began to thin out, Lucius stepped close to her. “We are leaving. Now,” he hissed at her.
Draco was standing close to Narcissa and looked up at his father anxiously. He could tell that Lucius was in a foul mood. Not that she could remember a time in recent years when he had been in a better mood.
“Draco wants to stay,” Narcissa said firmly. “And so we shall.”
Lucius’s hand twitched toward his wand, but Narcissa moved faster. With a flick of her own wand, she cast a full body-bind on him. Lucius froze mid-step, his eyes wide with outrage.
“You will pay for this, witch,” he said through gritted teeth. “I will make you sorry for this outrage.”
She smirked at him. “I think not.”
“Mummy?” Draco whispered softly, trembling, his eyes wide.
“It is all right, darling,” Narcissa said, smoothing a hand over Draco’s blond hair. “Your father and I are simply having a disagreement.”
She turned around and said, “All Black elves from Malfoy Manor come to me.”
Half a dozen house elves, all dressed in ragged pillowcases, popped in. They all looked terrified.
Narcissa made a show of looking them over. “Well, this will not do, will it?” She waved her wand, and all of them were dressed similarly to the rest of the Black house elves in Black Manor. The males all wore black pants and white shirts with black jackets or waistcoats that had the Black crest on the pocket. The females all wore black skirts and white shirts with black aprons over them, the Black crest on the pocket of the apron.
“Things are about to change,” she said. “Bartley, if you and the other elves would please be so kind as to pack everything of mine and Draco’s that is in Malfoy Manor and then bring it all to the family quarters here. That includes any book and nicknack not entailed to the Malfoy estate.”
“Yes, Mistress!” Bartley said happily as the rest of the elves nodded in unison before vanishing with a pop.
Lucius glared at her. “You will not get away with this. I will not give you a divorce.”
“I do not think you will have a choice,” Narcissa said with a cold smile. “As I am sure my attorney will tell you, you have failed in every way possible as a husband, and I will make sure that everyone knows that.”
“I will hunt you down and kill you for this,” Lucius promised, his rage palpable, but he was powerless at this moment.
“I should have done this years ago,” Narcissa said, stepping closer to her husband. “You have brought nothing but shame and danger to our family with your alliances. But that ends now. You will never endanger Draco again.”
She flicked her wand, casting a silencing spell on him before he could utter another word. She was done with him.
Arcturus approached. He regarded Lucius with a disdainful sneer before turning to Narcissa. “Well done, my dear. Once the divorce is finalized, the wards on Black Manor will be adjusted. No one with a Dark Mark will be able to set foot on the property.”
Lucius’s face turned a deep shade of red. It was really not a good look on him, Narcissa decided.
She sneered at him. “You heard what Lord Black said, Lucius. You are done here. And Draco and I are done with you.”
As the elves began returning with trunks and their belongings, Narcissa took Draco’s hand. “Come, darling. We have a new home now.”
Draco looked up at her, his face showing his relief. “With Harry? I like Harry.”
She nodded. “I am quite sure you both will become good friends.”
Draco smiled brightly at that, and that was good enough for Narcissa.
“And what of him?” Andromeda asked, nodding toward Lucius. Who was still glaring furiously at her and now Andromeda.
“We shall let him sit for a while,” Narcissa decided. “When the elves return with the rest of my belongings, I shall have one of them take him back to Malfoy Manor. By the time my spell wears off, we will have put Black Manor under a new Fidelis, and that will be that.”
She glanced one more time at Lucius. “He will soon come to understand that the House of Black will not be trifled with.”
*****
The new Fidelis charm was more easily established with several people anchoring it. Narcissa was happy to help out, as were Sirius and Andromeda. She would be living here, and that new spell made sure Lucius could not get to Draco.
Afterward, Narcissa approached Andromeda. “Can I speak to you for a moment, sister?”
“Sister?” Andromeda raised an eyebrow, a small smile on her face. “It has been a very long time since you called me that.”
“Until recently, I had not seen you in a long time,” Narcissa pointed out. “I wanted to ask what you were doing now? I hope you are happy.”
“I am. Ted is a good wizard, and I love him dearly. Nymphadora is a joy,” Andromeda snorted. “Well, when she wants to be. When she does not, she can be quite stubborn. And she is only ten.”
“I am sure that she is going to be a handful when she is older,” Narcissa said. “Draco is a sweet-natured child.”
“He seemed so. And quite taken with Harry.”
“He has not had a lot of contact with children his own age,” Narcissa said. “Lucius disapproved of him having friends. Another thing I found just appalling.”
“I can understand that,” Andromeda agreed.
But that was a subject that Narcissa was not ready to discuss with anyone yet. “Did you pursue your dream of becoming a healer?”
The question seemed to please Andromeda. “I did. I am in the residency phase of my apprenticeship now, and I should be finished by year’s end. I am thinking of opening my own practice. I want to make sure that everyone can see a competent doctor, not just the purebloods who can afford it.”
“I thought St. Mungo’s treated everyone,” Narcissa said. She had never heard of anyone being turned away, no matter their ability to pay.
“I am sure I know what you are thinking, and many Muggleborns wait much longer for less care than any pureblood you would know,” Andromeda said, clearly outraged. “I find that appalling.”
“I had not realized that was a problem,” Narcissa said, and she should have known. It was inherent in the doctrine that purebloods were more important and always came first. “But I should have. They have no recourse?”
“Complaining does them no good,” Andromeda confirmed. “Few people care, even the so-called light wizards. I would change that.”
“Did something happen?” Narcissa asked.
“To me, personally? No. But I have seen it and was told that I am to always take purebloods, no matter their problem, first.”
Narcissa hid a smile. “I am sure you did just that without a question.”
“I think you might know me too well,” Andromeda said with a laugh.
She would love to know how Andromeda got around that rule because Narcissa was absolutely sure that she had. “You always had a sense of fair play. I never understood how you ended up in Slytherin.”
“I am ambitious. I also know how to seem like I am doing one thing while actually doing something else,” Andromeda said. “I know that you want something from me right now, so why not just ask me?”
“Very good,” Narcissa said, inclining her head. “I am not sure you are the right person to ask, but do you know of a coven that might do a cleansing ritual? The ones I know that are still practicing are increasingly dark-leaning. I need something more gray.”
Now, Andromeda looked shocked. “Has he hurt you?”
“I do not wish to speak of it,” Narcissa said with a shudder. “He has become a monster, no sense of right or wrong.”
“I understand. As it happens, I am a member of a coven where we routinely do restorative and cleansing magic for many kinds of rituals,” Andromeda said. “But you will need to ask the coven high priestess for what you want. I am only a junior member and would not feel comfortable asking for you.”
“Dare I ask who the coven priestess is?” Because by that introduction, Narcissa knew she must be not only someone she knew but also someone who would disapprove of her.
Andromeda just looked at her. “Minerva McGonagall.”
To say that surprised Narcissa would be an understatement of enormous proportions. “I would not have thought of McGonagall as someone to be in a coven, let alone be the high priestess.”
“You clearly know nothing about her. Minerva McGonagall’s devotion to magic is genuine and deep. She grew up with her mother, who was a member of the coven. She joined herself as a teenager, before she had even left Hogwarts.”
“I had no idea. I assumed because of her association with Albus Dumbledore that she was someone else who had no use for our traditions and rituals.”
“Again, you know nothing about her,” Andromeda said. “And similarly, she knows little to nothing about you.”
“That might work in my favor, if she is truly that magically inclined.” Narcissa would have to think about this. “When all this is done with Lucius, I will have time to decide what to do next.”
Andromeda nodded. “I understand.”
“I think you do,” Narcissa agreed.
*****
Narcissa stood in the center of her new chambers at Black Manor, her arms crossed as the house elves were arranging her and Draco’s belongings in their bedrooms. The rooms in the suite were elegant, as befitted a daughter of the Black family. She appreciated the light wood paneling that lined the walls and a large fireplace. Despite the comfortable rooms, a persistent unease permeated everything, and she was not sure where it was coming from.
But there was definitely something wrong.
As soon as one of the elves had put the book trunks from Malfoy Manor into the sitting room, Narcissa felt a faint touch of dark magic coming from one of the containers. It sent an unpleasant shiver down her spine.
“Draco,” she said, turning to her son. He was standing by the window, looking at the grounds outside. “Why not go find Harry? I am sure he could use some company.”
Draco hesitated, looking up into her face. “Something wrong, mummy?”
“No, darling. Just some unpacking to do.” She smiled softly, brushing a strand of blond hair from his forehead. “Go on, now.”
With a nod, Draco left the room. As soon as he was gone, Narcissa turned back to find the trunk that was the problem. None of the elves were in the room, and she closed the door to keep it that way.
She pointed her wand at the stack of boxes and trunks and said, “Tenebris Magicae Revelio.”
A faint glow came from one of the trunks of books. The magic surrounding it felt thick and oppressively dark. Narcissa swallowed hard.
She flicked her wand to open the trunk. Carefully, she continued to use her wand to sift through the books, inspecting each one before putting it on the table. About halfway through the trunk, she found a simple black diary that reeked of dark magic.
The magic within the diary was as vile as anything she’d ever encountered. Narcissa’s breath caught in her throat. She knew what it was.
“Merlin, help us,” she whispered. She lowered the diary onto a clear space on the table.
She conjured a lead-lined vault. Carefully, she levitated the diary into the vault, her heart pounding as the malicious magic fought her magic. She covered it with relief and then sealed it with a powerful incantation.
The oppressive weight of the dark magic lessened but did not entirely dissipate. Narcissa stepped back and drew in another shuddering breath.
“Dobby,” Narcissa called.
The elf appeared with a pop, his large eyes widening as he looked up at her. “Yes, Mistress ‘cissa?”
“Please ask Sirius and Lord Black to come to my chambers immediately. Please do not delay.”
Dobby bowed and vanished with another pop.
Narcissa paced the room. That diary could only have belonged to the Dark Lord. But why had Lucius hidden it among her books? Did he even know what it was?
She clenched her hands into fists, just thinking about how foolish he had been. There was a knock on the door, and she called, “Come in.”
The door opened, and Sirius and Arcturus entered, both looking concerned. Sirius still had a worn look from his time in Azkaban. She supposed that would take time to heal.
“You asked to see us?” Arcturus asked, his normally cool expression warming when he glanced at her.
Narcissa appreciated that. “I did.”
“What has happened?” Sirius asked, sounding worried.
Narcissa pointed to the lead vault. “That happened.”
Sirius stepped closer, his brow furrowing. “What is in it?”
“A diary. It is soaked in dark magic, far worse than anything I have ever encountered before. I think,” She hesitated, then forced herself to say it. “I think it is a Horcrux.”
Arcturus’s eyes widened, and he leaned on his cane. “A Horcrux? Are you certain?”
“As certain as I can be without opening it again,” Narcissa replied, trying to keep the horror of that out of her tone. “The magic is vile. It reeks of the Dark Lord’s magic.”
Sirius cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “Another one? After what the goblins removed from Harry’s scar, I had hoped that would be the last of it.”
Narcissa had no idea what he was talking about. “What did they remove from his scar?” she asked.
“Harry had a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul embedded in the curse scar,” Sirius said. “It was removed a few days ago.
That was unexpected and Narcissa closed her eyes for a moment. That poor child. “He is all right?”
“Yes. The removal was painful, but as you saw yesterday, he was fine after,” Sirius confirmed. “Now, about what is in that vault?”
“What is there must be destroyed. But this is beyond our ability to do it.” Narcissa only had a high-level knowledge of how something that vile was made and knew significantly less about what it took to destroy one. But she could guess it would take a great deal of effort.
Arcturus stepped forward, his face pale. “We cannot let this remain in the house, especially with Harry and Draco here. Narcissa, you were wise to contain it, but this is a danger to everyone.”
“I agree,” Narcissa said, looking right at them. “Perhaps if the goblins knew how to deal with the other one, then they would also know how to deal with this one. And we must ensure that no one else knows it was here.”
Sirius breathed out sharply. “I will wager that this was Lucius’ doing. I am sure that coward did not even know what he was dealing with.”
“I would agree that it was him and that he did not know what he had,” Narcissa said. “But that does not excuse him. He has put us all in danger. And he will answer for it.”
Arcturus placed a hand on her shoulder. “You have done well, Narcissa. We will take this to the goblins. Sirius and I will see to the arrangements.” He stepped towards the door and then looked back. “I will leave it to you to deal with Lucius as you see fit.”
Narcissa nodded and then smiled at him. “Thank you. I will not let that abomination harm our family. And I will not allow Lucius to get away with having put us all in danger this way.”
Sirius picked up the lead vault with his wand and looked at her, his expression grim. “I agree. I can help you with Lucius, if you would like?”
“Thank you for the offer, Sirius. However, I think I can handle it,” Narcissa said. She owed Lucius for so many things he had done in the years they had been together. And she was very much looking forward to making that clear to him. Narcissa was sure he would understand the gravity of the situation when she was done explaining it to him.
Sirius and Arcturus left the room together, and Sirius was carrying the vault. Narcissa breathed out in relief at having it gone.
*****
Chapter Six
A Few Days Later
Sirius stood outside the door to his father’s suite and took a deep breath. This would be hard for him, but his father needed his support right now. His mother had been arrested for having kept his father potioned or under the Imperius Curse for at least ten years and possibly longer. She refused to say how long it had been. But it was certainly long enough to have done damage to his mind.
The healers whom his grandfather had brought in to help Orion were some of the best magical mind healers in the world. Britain might not be very advanced in the magic of mind healing, but other countries were much more forward-thinking.
And his grandfather had also insisted that Sirius speak to one of the healers about his time in Azkaban. He had asked when Sirius had first been released, but Sirius had argued it was too soon. Unsurprisingly, Sirius still felt it was too soon and had been reluctant to talk about it with anyone. This time, with his grandfather encouraging him, Sirius had finally given in and spoken with one of the healers.
It hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped. Sirius was still furious about the entire debacle, and he was especially enraged at Dumbledore for letting him rot in prison for two years. Dumbledore had known who the secret keeper was. Sirius closed his eyes and steadied himself. He took a couple of deep breaths as he’d been instructed and tried to let the anger go.
Dealing with Dumbledore was for another time. Now, now he needed to speak to Orion. To assure him that he would be taken care of. That, Arcturus had promised, and Sirius would see to it.
He took another breath and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” his father called.
Sirius pushed open the door and stepped into the room. Orion had been given one of the family guest suites. Narcissa and Draco were in another one down the hall.
All of the suites in Black Manor had an old-fashioned elegance to them that Sirius was sure his father appreciated. Orion was sitting on a plush velvet sofa, reading a book. A mahogany writing desk was against one wall of the sitting room with piles of books and parchments on it. The polished wood floors were covered with Persian carpets. And the big fireplace was lit and warming the room.
Orion put the book down on one of the end tables as Sirius came in. “What can I do for you?” he asked and waved Sirius to one of the armchairs that were on either side of the sofa.
“I am just checking on you,” Sirius said, sitting down. “I wanted to let you know that Walburga has been arrested and will stand trial before the Wizengamot next week.”
Orion breathed out sharply. “I am glad to hear that. Will I be expected to testify?” He sounded like that might be a problem.
“Would you want to?” Sirius asked.
“I would wish to finally have my say, but my mind is full of holes. I have been told that I might never recover all my memories of what happened,” Orion said and then exhaled heavily. “That might not be a bad thing. What I do remember is horrifying.”
Sirius did not know what to say to that. “I suspect that if you do testify, the healers will corroborate whatever you do remember. She would not say how long it had been going on. Do you know?” Sirius asked.
“I can only speculate that it was most of my adult life. I would not have married her otherwise,” Orion replied frankly.
Sirius’ stomach twisted at the thought of that kind of oppression for that length of time. “She forced you into marriage?”
“I would not have wanted to be married to someone so closely related. She is a second cousin. I do not care about blood purity, and certainly not the obsessive way that she did.” He paused to look at Sirius. “I was, am much more interested in magical purity. I would have said that she was barely powerful enough to cast a basic spell, but she kept me under Imperius for a long time. I think I was given potions as well,” Orion said. “I do know that my fondest wish now is to be rid of her.”
“I can pretty much guarantee that will happen. Do you want an annulment or a divorce?”
Orion looked a little lost. “I would do nothing that would hamper your status as your grandfather’s heir.”
“I am a son of the House of Black whether or not you are or were ever married to my mother.” Plus, he’d asked Arcturus about it, and he had said that he did not care since he was still Orion’s son, even if the marriage was annulled. Also, he was Lord Black and could choose anyone of Black blood as his heir.
“Then I would like an annulment,” Orion said. “I had some hope of being a scholar before I left Hogwarts. Now that I am free, I would like to try to pursue that.”
“I will make sure that happens for you,” Sirius said. It was the least he could do. “Is there somewhere you would like to go to study?”
“I was hoping to go to Rome after I left school,” Orion said. “I had been accepted to the wizarding university there for further study in runes and warding.”
“I thought there were only apprenticeships for something like that.” But Sirius had never been outside of England, so there might be another way that he did not know about.
Orion snorted. “There are several wizarding universities in Europe and in the Americas. Not in England, of course, but in the wider wizarding world, higher education is available to those who qualify for it.”
“What happened in England,” Sirius asked, though at this point he could probably guess.
“Dumbledore took over Hogwarts, and much of our culture and higher education has been weeded out of the coursework there,” Orion said. “But that’s a story for another time. If you can manage it, I would tell you to make sure he does not stay headmaster. He has ruined the education system in Britain.”
“That is on my list, too,” Sirius said. “Although, he is in quite a bit of trouble lately. He’s been removed as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. And the goblins are doing an audit to find out what happened to the stipend that Harry’s so-called caretakers were supposed to get and did not.”
“He stole from a child?” Orion sounded just horrified.
“An orphaned child,” Sirius confirmed. “My orphaned child.”
“The blood-adoption did happen, then?” Orion asked. “I am sorry I could not witness that.”
“I will give you the memory when you are a little stronger,” Sirius suggested.
“I would appreciate that.” Orion yawned and suddenly seemed quite tired. “I am sorry. The healing makes me sleepy.”
Sirius stood. “I will let you rest. The healers say you should be able to return to Grimmauld Place in a week or two.”
“Not if she is still there,” Orion said.
“She will not be there. I promise you that. She’s never going to be welcome in any Black house or property again,” Sirius said, surprised that Orion hadn’t remembered what he’d told him about Walburga. “As I said, she will likely never get out of Azkaban.”
Orion met his eyes. “Thank you.”
*****
Ministry of Magic
Later That Same Day
Amelia closed the door to her office and sighed as she sat down at her desk. This was a huge mess. Ragnok had given her evidence that the galleons taken from Harry Potter’s account had been transferred to a Muggle bank and then rerouted back to Gringotts into another account, where it was moved again into an account with the designation of OOTP. The owner of that account was Albus Dumbledore.
So, she had been correct, and she assumed that Ragnok was as well, with whom they thought had rerouted the funds.
All of the money was still in the vault, along with a lot of other funds. Ragnok had put a hold on it and was investigating where the rest of the money was coming from. She was sure it was not any more voluntary than Harry’s money. But they needed to prove that before they could do anything about it. This kind of embezzlement could not go uninvestigated.
She could arrest Dumbledore based on what she had and maybe get him under Veritaserum to see what he had to say. But he’d have to agree to it. If the charges were severe enough, he might agree to a deal to keep him out of Azkaban or lower his term there. There might be other information she could get from him, but that would have to wait until she had more evidence.
A Gringotts’ eagle owl came through the outside window to her desk and held its leg out. Amelia reached into her drawer and got a couple of treats. “Thank you,” she said as she removed the note.
The owl took off after it had delivered the note and eaten its treats.
Amelia unrolled the note and resized it. She scanned it quickly. “Damnation,” she muttered. This was not good at all.
Gringotts Bank
Diagon Alley, London
Office of the Director
To: Madam Amelia Bones
Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement
Ministry of Magic
Subject: Anomalies in Harry Potter’s Financial Support Fund
Dear Madam Bones,
Following a thorough examination of the financial irregularities tied to the care and support of Mr. Harry James Potter, I must bring to your attention some other anomalies that require immediate investigation.
In addition to the missing funds from Mr. Potter’s trust fund, which were redirected to a Muggle account and then back to Gringotts’ to the OOTP corporation account, our records also indicate that several wizarding families and individuals have been contributing monthly sums to fund the previously mentioned account. The circumstances surrounding these transactions raise several troubling questions.
The contributors to this fund include:
Arthur and Molly Weasley. As you may be aware, they are a family of modest means. Their monthly contribution amounts to nearly twenty-five percent of their income. This level of financial commitment represents a significant burden for any family, especially one that is already facing financial constraints from seven children.
Emmeline Vance, Hestia Jones, and Dedalus Diggle. All of whom have been contributing regular sums despite no clear indication that they wished to do so. Obviously, this will require more investigation.
The McKinnon, Meadows, and Fenwick Families are also contributing to the account. Given that these families have no surviving members, their participation raises the suspicion that their dormant accounts are being accessed unlawfully.
Gringotts is continuing to investigate any parties who may have authorized or orchestrated this arrangement. However, the implications of our findings suggest a broader conspiracy, potentially involving breaches of financial trust, misuse of accounts, and even forgery. We will thoroughly investigate all of this on our end to determine who is responsible.
I strongly recommend that your office launch a formal inquiry into these matters as well. The involvement of the ministry is crucial to determine the full extent of the fraud and to ensure that the affected families, as well as Mr. Potter, receive justice.
Gringotts will, of course, provide all necessary documentation and cooperate fully with your investigation. I will personally oversee the preparation of a detailed report on the routing of these funds and will keep you informed of any additional findings.
Please do not hesitate to contact me directly if you require further clarification or assistance.
Yours sincerely,
Ragnok Winterkill
Director, Gringotts Bank
Amelia sighed. She’d need to have the wills pulled and reviewed. That would take time. And right now, it didn’t look like she had that much.
“Kingsley Shacklebolt,” she said into the interoffice mirror.
“Ma’am,” he responded.
“Can you come to my office right now,” she asked. Of all the Aurors she currently had on staff, Kingsley Shacklebolt was the one she trusted the most. He had an eye for detail and seemed to be completely trustworthy.
“Of course,” he said, and it sounded like he was standing up from his desk. “I will be right there.” He closed the connection.
It took him maybe one minute to get to her office. He knocked and then opened the door.
“I do not have a lot of time right now as I am on my way out,” she said and handed him the letter from Gringotts.
He scanned it quickly, and it looked like he was as surprised as she had been.
“I need you to pull the wills of the three families listed there and see if there were any bequeaths to an organization called OOTP Corporation or even something with that spelled out,” Amelia said.
“Of course,” Kingsley said. “I will get right on it.”
“Thank you. Report directly back to me, and do not say anything to anyone about this. If anyone asks you anything, send them to me.” Amelia stood.
Kingsley nodded and then left.
Amelia was going to start with the Weasleys. With seven children, it seemed unlikely that they would be willing to contribute so large a share of their income to such a fund, no matter what the cause. And yet, they were loyal followers of Dumbledore. Well, that would be her first stop today.
*****
She had sent a note to Arthur Weasley. At least he was in the ministry. As she walked to his office, she wondered what she could say. If he had given approval, then everything was fine. If he had not, then there were all kinds of repercussions from that.
Down a flight of stairs and across the building, she found Arthur’s office.
“Come in,” Arthur said to her knock.
She came in and was unsurprised to find his small office filled with muggle devices. She recognized some of them. “Do you have a few minutes, Arthur?”
“Sure, Amelia, please sit down.” He waved her to a seat. She removed a battery and cable from the seat and set it on his already too crowded desk.
“I have some questions to ask you,” Amelia started. “Getting right to the point, do you realize that you’re giving twenty-five percent of your income to the OOTP corporation. It is some kind of fund that is run by Albus Dumbledore.”
She was going to take the wide eyes and paled face as a no.
“I’m sorry,” Arthur gasped. “Say that again. I am not sure I heard you correctly.”
“I said that you are giving twenty-five percent of –”
“All right, I heard that,” he said and took another breath. “I did not now, nor have I ever given permission for anyone other than Molly to take money out of our joint vault.”
“Did you never notice the withdrawals?”
“We noticed we were always broke, but we never investigated as to why. I should be making a decent enough living as Assistant Manager of this department.” Arthur frowned. “I feel like I should not even be thinking about my salary or the contents of my vault.”
“A compulsion, perhaps?” Amelia asked. That was also illegal.
“I don’t know,” Arthur said. “Now that I am thinking about it, I realize that I have thought of this many times before. Every time I’ve gotten a raise and then still never had enough to make ends meet. We’re very frugal.”
She was sure they were. With seven children, they would have to be. But someone stealing twenty-five percent of his income each month would make it hard even for the most frugal of people. “Do you know what the OOTP is?”
“If I were to venture a guess,” Arthur said. “The Order of the Phoenix might come to mind. But I can’t believe that Albus would do something like that to us. We’ve always been loyal to him.”
“And apparently, he played on that,” Amelia said. “Though you must have authorized this in some way.”
“I have not. And I would not jeopardize my family’s welfare for anything,” Arthur said.
And Amelia could hear the truth in his words. “If such a document exists?”
“Then it was not approved by me or Molly. She actually has her own vault of family money that we are using to pay for Hogwarts for the children.”
“I do not know if that has been compromised. But your salary vault has obviously been,” she said.
“How do I stop it?” Arthur asked.
“I can contact the bank for you,” Amelia volunteered.
“No. I will do that as soon as you leave today. I would also like an explanation of how this happened and how long it’s been going on. That’s a lot of money.”
“I realize that. I don’t believe any of the money has been spent since the end of the war two years ago.”
“How did you discover this?” Arthur asked.
“I’m afraid I can’t talk about an ongoing investigation,” Amelia said.
Arthur nodded. “Let me know when you find out something, please. For now, I’ll get in touch with the bank and tell them to stop taking money out of my vault. Though why wasn’t it in our statements from the bank?”
“That’s an excellent question and one I do not know the answer to. Another thing to ask about,” Amelia suggested.
“I wonder if someone at the bank was in on it?” Arthur speculated.
“That would not be good for their continued health,” Amelia said. The goblins were not kind to those who broke the rules of banking for any reason. It could cost that goblin his or her life to have done something like this.
She stood. “I will be back in touch once I know more.”
“Thank you,” Arthur said. “I appreciate that you came to me with this. I’ll take care of it from my end immediately.”
She nodded and stepped out of his office. And then let out a huge sigh. If she had thought this was going to be a mess before, it had just gotten an order of magnitude worse.
*****
After meeting with both Hestia Jones and Emmeline Vance, Amelia returned to her office. While they both claimed to be loyal to Dumbledore as The Leader of The Light, neither had noticed or given approval to anyone, for any amount of money to be taken from their vaults.
In fact, both said they had trouble making ends meet sometimes and had no idea why that would be true. It spoke of more than money being misappropriated. It had to be some kind of spell or potion so that they didn’t know or were told not to worry about their financial situation. It was very disturbing.
Ragnok had asked her to come by the bank after she was done at the ministry, and she had already decided they needed to talk. Hopefully, he had figured out his end of it. However, as she had told Arthur, she would not want to be the goblin who was caught misappropriating funds. Their laws were harsh, much more harsh than wizarding laws.
Before she went, she wanted to check in with Kingsley about what he’d found. She’d barely gotten back to her office before he was knocking on her door.
“Come in,” she said, sitting down at her desk. “What do you have for me, Kingsley?”
“About what you would expect. There’s nothing in any of their wills to indicate the money being taken out of their dormant estates. There is also literally no one left in those three families who could claim their estate. All three have a clause that holds the estate in abeyance in case someone magical turns up to claim it. And someone thought it was probably a good bet that no one would notice.” Kingsley exhaled. “Although how they set it up through the bank is beyond me.”
“I am very sure how it was set up is being discovered as we speak. Director Ragnok is investigating, and I am also sure that it will not be long before the goblin or goblins are going to be very sorry –”
“And very dead,” Kingsley said without inflection.
When she looked at him, he shrugged. “They have their own laws and rules. I know this kind of thing would erode public trust, so the perpetrators will be dealt with most harshly.”
“You are correct,” Amelia said, looking at her watch. “I have to go over there now to coordinate with Director Ragnok about this.”
“I do not envy you that, ma’am,” Kingsley said, standing. “Is there anything else you need?”
“Not right now,” Amelia said. “But I haven’t made contact with Dedalus Diggle yet. He has not responded to my owl.”
“He is a barrister, is he not?” Kingsley said. “He probably hasn’t gotten home yet. Though he’s probably the most loyal of Dumbledore’s followers.”
“Do you know something about that?” She eyed him thoughtfully. “I had not thought that you would be the vigilante type.”
“I was not involved with them during the last war,” Kingsley said. “But I lost a lot of friends to that maniac. Dumbledore contacted me about the possibility of needing the Order of the Phoenix again. He framed it as for some time in the future. Truthfully, I told him maybe. But I also looked up what happened in the first war with that group.”
“And?” she asked. Not that she didn’t already know the answer to that question.
“And most of the people who were in the Order of the Phoenix did not make it out again. I do not like those odds at all,” Kingsley said seriously.
“I would not either,” Amelia said. “I also would not approve of any of my aurors working for a vigilante organization. No matter who fronts it.” She hoped she was making herself clear.
The look on Kingsley’s face said he understood what she was saying. “You need not worry about it with me. It is not something I am even considering anymore.”
“Very good,” She stood as well. “I will see you in the morning.”
“Good night,” he said, going out.
She picked up her cloak and left her office.
*****
This! This is one of my absolute favorite types of HP fic. And, so far, it’s absolutely brilliant.
(I’m also having a right old time imagining Angela Bassett as Amelia Bones.)
Ok, onwards…
Loving it!
Wonderful story. Very well plotted and I’m enjoying the characters very much. Especially that of Narcissa Malfoy.
[wordpress ate my first comment, so here’s me trying again]
I quite like Madame Bones so far. She needs to kick Dumbledore’s arse. I really like that both the light and dark sides are banding against his high handed “I know best” greater good bs.
Yay! Someone is finally sending the Dursleys to jail for child abuse. I hope the goblins find poison on Lord Black and help him. I was right! Now, they need to treat him, and he needs to get House Black in order.
Draco and Harry as itty-bitty friends is now my new fave thing, lol. I like that Cissy stood up for herself, but I think Lucius will still be a problem in future. Another Horcrux down. Sweet!
I think it would be funny as hell for the Weasleys and others to drop Dumbles due to him stealing from them, lol. I don’t like that she didn’t test Arthur for potions or compulsions though. I do like that Kingsley is not interested in the OOTP now.
I wonder what Dumbles has been doing while his plans upend? I look forward to finding out in the next part.
I love that this all start from an audit and was a financial issue until Harry’s whereabouts were in question. It was great that Harry was rescued from the Dursleys and this lead to Sirius’ release, so they can both have a better life and the chance of happiness. I hope I don’t offend by pointing out the CPS here stands for Crown Prosecution Service and, as far as I know, social workers from the local authority’s social care department would be sent to investigate. I just kept imagining lawyers (in full court robes!) knocking at the door!
So many interesting threads from that initial snag, especially Lord Black’s urge to act and the ramifications for the whole Black family. Finding Horcruxes and involving the goblins means they can destroyed and not left in a child’s head, so I am looking forward to seeing how that develops on a number of levels.
So, you are not the first person to point that out to me. 🙂 I am posting this to AO3 right now, and I’ve taken the CPS acronym out so there won’t be any confusion.