A Promise Kept
“The Minister has been confounded?” Seamus asked, eyebrows steadily climbing his face.
“Only,” Ron frowned down at the paper, “twelve times.”
“Even Dad takes care to remove any enchantments after meetings that deal with a budget,” Ginny said, “and no one would claim his work is high stakes. What has Fudge been thinking?”
“Nothing original. Blimey, twelve confundus charms?”
“They must have been subtle,” Seamus said, “otherwise he would have been acting wonky.”
“Does that resolve him of announcing the investigation closed?” Harry asked Hermione.
“It seems like it,” Hermione said. “They can’t prove what the charms were supposed to do so Fudge can claim anything he’d like.”
“He’s trying to keep his job,” Harry said.
“Oh certainly,” Hermione closed the newspaper. “Either way the investigation will be heavily monitored now. No one will be able to tamper with it.”
“Good,” Harry said. “Maybe they can actually investigate now.”
Seamus didn’t say anything, watching Harry thoughtfully.
“Harry,” Angelina stopped behind him. Harry spun all the way around on the bench to face her. “I’ve had some more thoughts about the tryouts.”
“Do you think Fudge will be fired?” Lavender asked Hermione.
“I don’t think so,” Hermione said. “I don’t think he’ll win re-election but I don’t think anyone will be able to say he did anything wrong knowingly.”
“Can they figure out who did it?”
Hermione shook her head, “Especially not if Fudge tries to keep his story vague so he can blame everything on the charms and not on his own actions.”
“What a week,” Parvati shaking her head as well.
“It’s only the fourth day of the year!”
“Hey,” Harry said, quidditch minutia decided and facing the table again, “no one has tried to kill me yet. This year is going well.”
“Has anyone tried to kill you this early?” Ron asked serving himself more sausages.
“Dobby,” Harry said grimly.
“That wasn’t trying to kill you though,” Ron said. “He thought he was helping.”
“Lockheart?”
“The same,” Ron said.
“The dementors.”
“Fair,” Ron nodded. “They even ignored orders to do that.”
Parvati and Lavender looked horrified. Hermione took her last bites of potatoes. “I don’t want to be late to Defense.”
“Hem hem,” Seamus’s impression caused Dean to jump, looking over his shoulder.
Ron shuddered and stood. “Yeah, I reckon you’re right about that.”
It wasn’t an apology, but still, something thawed between her shoulder blades. “I know.”
Ron laughed and swung his bag up. “Always do.”
---
“You were back late last night,” Sirius teased.
“I slept at my home last night, Sirius,” Andy sipped at her third cup of tea.
“That doesn’t make me wrong,” Sirius poked her shoulder. “What could you have possibly been doing?”
“I had a meeting.”
“With?”
“I’ll tell you if you need to know,” Andy said. “A former classmate reached out. We talked.”
“Slytherins,” Sirius accused. “I’m so glad I wasn’t part of your house. I would have gone mad.”
“No need to worry about that,” Ted said with a smile. “You already were.”
“Oy!” Sirius said, grinning.
Andy and Ted had breakfast with him most mornings to make up for the fact Harry wasn’t there. It was nice, having a family. Bowtruckle Run was starting to feel like home in a way it hadn’t ever before, like something long-term.
“It should be a crowded, full session today,” Andy said, nibbling on a scone. “I’m hosting tea on the break. Should I expect you?”
“Is that an honest question or a command?” Sirius asked. Andy gave him the look. “I’ll be there then.”
“Excellent,” Andy said. “I’ll have something with strawberries out.”
“And those little things with bacon?” Sirius asked eagerly.
“Consider it done.”
“Are you ready for today?” Ted asked, slathering butter on a scone.
“Of course! When am I not ready to cause some chaos?” Sirius asked, smiling. “Besides, this has been a long time coming.”
“I, for one, can’t wait to see their faces. I don’t think this is on anyone’s radar.”
“Good pranks never are,” Sirius agreed. “Not that this is a prank.”
--
“The court recognizes House Black,” Chief Hawking seemed almost resigned at this point. It had already been a contentious meeting, with many questions and petitions surrounding the Minsiter’s health. Hawking had probably thought he was home free at this late hour.
Sirius stood and, predictably, murmurs started when he made his way to the floor. He ignored the podium, having had his speech memorized since he was in 6th year.
“It can’t sound personal,” James said, walking circles around the couch. “It has to be professional and non-threatening.”
“House Black would like to announce a new community program,” he said. Chief Hawking’s shoulders came down a hair, “and offer an opportunity to any House that would like to join us in funding our initiative.”
“It should include an offer to join us,” Sirius said. “House Black and Potter together? We’ll take two-thirds of the Wizengamot.”
“We’ll command the room,” James grinned, falling over the back of the couch to lie back with his legs dangling over the back. “Make them hang on to every word.”
The court waited, barely breathing. Sirius luxuriated in the feeling of every single person hanging on to his words.
“House Black will be providing Wolfsbane to any witch or wizard who requests it, free of charge and without question. Our projections show that we will be able to fund and supply wolfsbane for the entire population of witches and wizards who suffer from lycanthropy symptoms for the next 500 years.”
Sound exploded from all corners of the room. A reporter had fallen over. Four wands were raised. Shouted questions and exclamations garbled together to add to the cacophony.
Sirius turned, slowly, taking it all in. If only his mother could see him now.
“Order!” the gavel banged once, twice.
Sirius hadn’t ceded the floor yet.
“It’s not going to work!” Remus slammed his textbook into the wall, spinning up to tower over him, hands tugging at his hair. “It can’t be you and James, charging ahead! Everyone else needs to be on board too.”
He’s wrong, Sirius thought. I could keep him safe. I could keep everyone safe if the whole of House Black was behind me and I partnered with James. I could get everyone to back us.
“Just leave it alone,” Remus picked his book up, shoulders slumped. “Nothing good will come of it.”
“We plan to fund research to better understand the disease and, hopefully, find the cure. In the meantime, we would like to find better potions and treatments to more effectively ease lycanthropy symptoms.”
Lucius Malfoy was slowly flushing pink, the only symptom of his anger he would show in public.
“Benefits for the community,” Peter said, without looking up from the charm theory he was scribbling out. “What are they going to get out of it?”
“If you are interested in our program, wish to lend skills or time, or want to support us,” Sirius continued, making eye contact with every person whose wand had lit up silver the day of his trial, “please keep an eye out on tomorrow’s paper. It will have all the details there.”
Sirius took one more deep breath and let it out before looking back to the Chief’s chair. “I thank the court for it’s time. House Black cedes the floor.”
Wands flew up around the room. Sirius waited patiently for the Chief to recognize them.
“This is going to be prohibitively expensive.”
Sirius picked lint off his robes, “House Black recognizes the burden it would place on the Ministry to care for its constituents in this way and has decided to step in. I assure you, the funding for the program is secure.”
“Are you worried about over-harvesting ingredients?” Neville asked, surprising his grandmother.
“We are working with private greenhouses to make sure our initiative remains stable,” Sirius answered with a warm smile. “I expect the initiative to be able to fund many small businesses including potioneers and herbologists.”
“Are you worried about tying your House to werewolves?”
“You can’t,” Remus whispered, horrified. “What do you mean you’d stay by me? You’d ruin everything. No one would hire you. No one would trust you. It wouldn’t help me.”
“Would it hurt you? Make it worse?”
“No, but -”
“Stop being dumb,” Sirius commanded, tired of this conversation. “Why would I be anything other than proud to be your friend?”
“House Black is already tied to werewolves, I’ve been tied to werewolves since I was eleven,” Sirius amended with a shrug. “It didn’t seem to bother anyone then or now. I’m proud and honoured to name Remus Lupin as a friend. He’s wicked smart, compassionate, and bloody good at trivia. Hell, he’s the best DADA professor my godson has ever had - the only competent DADA professor Hogwarts has seen in the past decade. I intended to continue being his friend as long as he’ll let me. Anything you’ve thought of me or House Black before today has been thoughts about a person who publicly supports werewolf rights.”
“Is this for him?”
“It’s because of him,” Sirius said, “but not only. The world is bigger than our friends. I saw our government, our society, failing a whole group of people and shunning them for it. How could I not step in?”
--
“Percy Weasley,” Andy scooped up Percy’s arm and settled her hand on his arm so he was escorting her properly. “How lovely of you to accept my invitation to tea.”
“Ma’am,” Percy said, confused but well aware of the cameras still flashing.
“Sirius Black,” Sirius introduced himself cheerfully from behind. “I believe you’ve met Tonks already.”
“I'm Percy, sir,” Percy said. “Hello again Tonks.”
“Wotcher.”
“I’ve met the whole set now,” Sirius mused to his cousin. “I feel like there should be a prize.”
“You survived my brothers,” Percy said, cautiously glancing at the cameras.
“You should have met your uncles,” Sirius said cheerfully as they made their way to the floos. “They would have given Fred and George a run for their money.”
“Really?” Percy neatly, if slightly robotically, escorted Andy into the floo and took his place by her side.
“Fucking hellions,” Sirius said before Percy spun away. “Wouldn’t leave them alone for a minute and even then it’s probably too late for your buttons.”
--
House of Black to Fund Wolfsbane Indefinitely!
“That’s a headline,” Seamus said, reading off the paper blocking Hermione from view.
Harry shrugged, already tired of the stares he was getting.
“I don’t get why this wasn’t already a program,” Heather said. “Doesn’t the government help with other diseases?”
“Lycanthropy isn’t a disease though,” Dean said.
“It’s not a blood-born illness?” Heather asked, looking at Hermione.
“It’s more like a blood-born curse,” Hermione’s distracted voice floated out from behind the paper, “but that’s just semantics.”
“Werewolves hurt people,” Dean argued.
“That’s them being bad people,” Harry said, once again very tired. “If you took away the werewolf part they’d still hurt people. They’d just need a different weapon.”
“So they’re weapons then?” Dean asked.
“As much as I am,” Harry said, anger burning hot. He pushed himself up from the table and grabbed his bag, striding towards the door.
“Mr. Potter,” he grit his teeth at the sweet, high-pitched voice.
“Professor?” He asked, trying to keep his tone calm.
Professor Umbridge had new pink robes on, a shade of pink yet unworn. Harry hadn’t realized there had been so many shades of pink before this year. Little bows studded her pointed pink hat.
“Done with breakfast already?”
“Professor?”
“It's an expectation that students eat breakfast in the Great Hall, Mr. Potter, I would hate for someone to find you somewhere unexpected and come to the wrong conclusions.”
Harry turned slowly to watch the numerous pairs, trios, and students walking alone in and out of the big double doors and then slowly turned back to Professor Umbridge. She didn’t look amused.
“I want to grab a diary from my trunk, Professor,” Harry said. It wasn’t a lie.
“Surely that can wait,” Professor Umbridge said.
“For?” Harry asked, out of patience.
“The end of the day, Mr. Potter.”
“Why would I wait until then, Professor?”
“So you remain in the expected areas.”
“Is that a rule, professor?”
“No Mr. Potter, it’s an expectation.”
“So is arriving with all of my materials, Professor,” Harry waited, eyebrows raised.
“Mr. Potter.”
“Professor.”
I will stand here, Harry thought furiously, for as long as it takes. I’ve been stared at, it doesn’t bother me anymore.
They were starting to turn heads now, people looking curiously at them, students having to awkward part around them as they streamed in and out of the door.
“Be fast, Mr. Potter,” Umbridge turned away before Harry could respond.
What a joke.