Making new allies
When Harry and Hermione entered Professor McGonagall’s classroom - among the first to do so - the Professor sat at her desk and had a very thoughtful look on her face. The Daily Prophet was laying in front of her and the front page article gave her a lot to think about. Albus had said that Potter’s entry in the Tournament wasn’t to be discussed, and truthfully, she was proud of him. A Gryffindor potentially winning the Tournament. That would be brilliant. But the article made her ashamed of herself. No matter what Albus said, James and Lily would not be proud, but scared and angry. Potter had no realistic chance of winning, at least not without extra training - which she wasn't allowed to give. He might just get killed. And that she hadn’t seen, hadn’t realised that out of some sort of sick Gryffindor proudness was something to be ashamed of. And what the bloody hell was Albus thinking? No statement, no support, doing nothing against the bullying that Potter would have to endure (and probably already did), it was as if he had already given up on the boy. Everyone, including the darkest Death Eaters like Malfoy and co. deserved forgiveness and a second chance, Albus tried his best to give everyone another chance. Draco Malfoy wishing death to all Muggleborns and being plainly racist, his father endangering Ginny Weasley with a cursed object. Severus too deserved a second chance, and a third, and a fourth… and so on. But not Potter. The boy hadn’t even done anything wrong and he was still supported less than any former Death Eater.
She couldn’t do that any longer.
“Mr Potter!”
“Yes, Professor?”
“Could you please join me in my office for a moment?”
Harry hesitated for a second, but after a reaffirming look from Hermione he nodded. Just as he got up the girl made eye contact once more, checking whether he wanted her company, but he subtly shook his head. He’d be fine.
Professor McGonagall’s office was adjourning to her classroom, connected by a door next to the blackboard. Harry had been in here several times over the past years, and it was never really pleasant. Usually you sat in here when you did something wrong. The room itself was pretty welcoming: warm colours, memorabilia and pictures from past Gryffindors, old books, awards and so on. But when you sat on the hard, uncomfortable chair and were faced with Professor McGonagall’s stern look, you tended to feel like a disappointment to Gryffindor House. Like you didn’t live up to the standards all those people on all those many pictures had set.
Not this time though.
Harry was asked to sit on the couch, while the Professor sat down in the armchair opposite of it.
“I’d offer you tea, but class starts in five minutes. Biscuit?”
She held out a box with biscuits and Harry definitely didn’t say no to that.
“Mr Potter… May I say Harry?”
He nodded, with a smile on his face.
“Thank you, Harry. I am sorry, truly sorry, for everything surrounding the Tournament. Until this morning I hadn’t cared whether you entered yourself, simply because I was happy for our house. It was all about the glory for me, and Albus reassured me that everything will be fine. But being faced with Irma’s article I realised something. You are in danger. In mortal danger. Your parents wouldn’t be proud of you, they’d be scared and angry at us Professors. And - this doesn’t leave this room, maybe except Miss Granger - if the Headmaster decides he can give every Death Eater a second and third and fourth and so on chance and support them on their way to “redemption” then he should most certainly support you even more. But instead he forbids us to worry about the Tournament and do something. Instead of helping he just does nothing. And now that I’ve realised that I can’t support that. I’ll try my best to keep the potential bullying in check, I’ll offer my support and help - as much as I can under the rules of the Tournament.”
Harry smiled at her.
“You’re forgiven, Professor. Thank you. I’d be very grateful if you could do something against the bullying. As for help - this stays between us - Professors Flitwick and Babbling as well as Madam Pince are assisting me and Hermione. You know, I need to become a better dueller and everything, Voldemort is still out there. And if you don’t believe that, there are still rogue Death Eaters like Greyback or the very dangerous fugitive Sirius.”
Minerva didn’t know whether to be amused or shocked, but she froze for a second before letting out a brief snort.
“Sometimes, Harry, you are your father’s son with that cheek and way around rules, but at the same time you’re just like Lily. If you need anything from me, just ask. I’ll keep your secrets from Albus, I promise.”
“Thank you Professor.”
Harry reached into the box of biscuits once again with a sly grin before they got up and went back into the classroom. By now nearly two thirds of the students were there, some of them now looking curiously at them. Harry just slumped down next to Hermione and gave her one of the two biscuits he just took from Professor McGonagall’s office.
“All fine, she just joined our camp. I told her that Filius is training us, not much more than that. And the other students’ behaviour should be sanctioned stricter from now. The famous Potter charm, you know. I’m irresistible. You should know that.”
Hermione blushed, it’s not like she could deny that. While they haven’t really talked about that heart to heart they had a few nights back, they glanced at each other much more often, both blushed a lot and when they were sitting around they tended to be much more physically close than usual. Hermione knew that Harry’s upbringing was far from good and that it wouldn’t be easy for her to get closer to him. Not that this mattered to her. She would try her best and not give up on him. Never. He deserved someone who cared - and he was quite cute.
After class was over - Harry earned a few points for a brilliant transfiguration, as McGonagall liked to call it - the duo headed to lunch. While coming into the Great Hall, Hermione made eye contact with Susan Bones at the Hufflepuff table. The girl understood and quickly made her way to the Gryffindor table. She sat down next to Neville, who was sitting opposite of Harry and Hermione on the far end of the table. Some people eyed them with curiosity, but no one said anything.
“Hey Hermione, Harry, Nev. What can I do for you?”
“Ever heard of the Magic Beast Control Act of 1855? Two years before it, a Cerberus got loose in Hogsmeade and killed four kids. They implemented the Act to have more control over what they call beast import. Everything XXX and higher has to be registered and the ministry has to be notified every time you move the creature. And for public safety, everyone may request a registry of those creatures.”
At that point Harry chimed in.
“The Tournament has a tendency to utilise dangerous creatures in the first task. To prepare we could just request the list ourselves, but expect the Ministry to hinder us on grounds of cheating. Which is nonsense, Hermione checked the rules. Still, we’d love to have that list soon and not in three months or so.”
“And the Head of the DMLE could probably get this list in less than five minutes. You want what you can legally demand while avoiding the Ministry’s attempts to sabotage you. I’ll need something in return.”
Harry smiled, he had expected as much. It was a lot to ask.
“You’ll get an answer to your question, to whom you are talking right now. This information does fall under the purview of the secrecy clauses of the alliances of House Potter with House Bones and House Longbottom. Tell the Head of House Bones that the Triwizard Tournament is only for people legally of age, the Goblet’s magic is binding and I’ve been to Gringotts since. The Headmaster had kept me from all that knowledge and he still doesn’t know I figured it out. Is that enough?”
Susan nodded and tried to not react to the information. Attention wouldn’t do them any good now.
“Yes… my Lord.”
Harry smiled. She understood what he meant.
“If you send a letter to her, I’d like to meet you in the owlery then to give you something. Can’t really write her a letter and use Hedwig, she’s too noticeable.”
Hermione looked at him with a confused expression.
“Same thing I’ll tell Crouch the next time he’s here.”
“Ah, smart. But I thought you said that Gornuk would send it to the DMLE?”
“Yes, but he doubted that it would reach its destination. Bloody Ministry.”
After lunch the trio headed to DADA, Susan had a different class. Nothing interesting happened, Moody didn’t put them under the Imperius again or something, it was a lecture about recognising and shielding curses. Towards the end they had a practical part where they fired stunners at each other and had to dodge. Nothing Harry and Hermione didn’t manage, they had been training several duelling techniques. Moody praised them and handed out a few points, some to Neville too. The usually timid Gryffindor turned out to be quite motivated. The only other noteworthy fact was that Harry caught a strange, somehow familiar scent when Mooy drank out of his flask. Strange. But hey, none of his business what Moody drank.
At dinner Susan winked at Neville, making the boy blush. After another gesture he made his way over to her, causing a few whispers at Gryffindor table. A few minutes later he returned, still blushing.
“Anything you want to tell us, Nev?”
The boy laughed.
“Maybe. First off, owlery at quarter past nine for the letter. And secondly, in Hufflepuff there are rumours of a ball on Yule. Susan wanted to let me know that if I ask her nicely at the next Hogsmeade weekend I have a very good chance.”
While Harry said “Way to go, Nev!” Hermione just blushed.
“OH! Did I miss something here?”
“Maybe. We’ll see.”
After that the conversation shifted, Neville knowing that he probably shouldn’t inquire further. He didn’t have a great upbringing, but guessed that it was and is even worse for Harry. One tends to be a pretty closed-off person when your family members throw you out of the window, struggling to open up to anyone else.
Following dinner, Harry and Hermione vanished to somewhere, apparently studying and preparing for the Tournament on their own, while Neville left to finish an essay.
The next morning Amelia Bones received mail from Susan at breakfast. Her owl brought two letters, but only one envelope had Susan’s handwriting on it. She began with that one.
Hello auntie,
I hope you’re doing alright. By now you should have read all about Harry Potter and the Tournament, including the article regarding his innocence. I approached Harry a few days ago and in light of our houses’ alliance I began assisting him. It would be great if you could send us the current registry of creatures of the Magic Beast Control Act of 1855. Yes, the Tournament rules don’t prohibit him from requesting it, but it is our assumption that the Ministry would try to stall. This list could make our lives easier and help with his preparation to keep him alive.
The second letter is from him, apparently something he already sent via Gornuk to the Department but assumes it would never reach its destination. And I’ve got a message from him too, falling under the purview of our alliance’s secrecy clauses.
“Tell the Head of House Bones that the Triwizard Tournament is only for people legally of age, the Goblet’s magic is binding and I’ve been to Gringotts since. The Headmaster had kept me from all that knowledge and he still doesn’t know I figured it out.”
I think you understand the implications of that. I will continue to support Harry and his friends.
Oh and thanks for telling me about the Yule Ball, I might have told Neville Longbottom he should ask me next Hogsmeade Weekend. He’s cute and helps Harry and his friend Hermione Granger (the bloody brilliant one, remember) as well.
Love,
Susan
Merlin.
Harry Potter was probably Lord Potter, Dumbledore was interfering in House business and her niece was helping Potter because of their alliance. Wanting the report was a smart idea, it listed every XXX and higher creature in Wizarding Britain including owners and locations. She’d order it at work later. But now onto the second letter before she thought too much about the last paragraph. Her Susan was too young to… anyway.
The second letter - the one with Lord Potter’s handwriting on the envelope apparently - consisted of two things: a small note and a document authenticated with James Potter’s magical signature.
He’s innocent. I’ve seen the real traitor alive and missing a finger.
- Heir Black
What the hell… wasn’t Malfoy’s snobbish arrogant boy supposed to be that one day? But Potter would have enough Black blood. But who…
Oh Merlin.
Fuck.
That couldn’t be authentic, could it? It obviously was, it bore James Potter’s magical signature and coat of arms. Black was innocent and the traitor - oh. Missing a finger. Pettigrew. That changed everything. And with this evidence alone she could exculpate Black. First research and check the court transcripts. Then show up at Hogwarts to talk with Potter - under the guise of checking the damn goblet. Then rescind the kiss-on-sight order and call a Wizengamot session.
Bloody hell.
What a mess.
Not much happened at Hogwarts until the weekend. History was becoming more and more interesting, by now there were several students of every year helping Binns out of his trance-like state and Irma Pince noted that more and more students were looking for history books untouched for years if not decades. It seemed like Cuthbert was assigning essays about other topics than just goblin rebellions.
Harry even managed to survive another Potions class, despite one or two attempts to sabotage his potion. One time Zabini even caught some ingredients thrown by Goyle. Professor Snape was a bit frustrated but couldn’t deny the improvement in quality, and Draco Malfoy was keeping quiet so far, but seemed like he was planning something.
On Saturday, shortly before lunchtime, Irma Pince knocked on the door of the reading room Harry and Hermione were using to inform them that Susan Bones had asked her whether she knew anything of their whereabouts. It seemed important.
“Then you two better get going and come back later so we can continue working on your grammar.”
“Yes, grandfather.”
“Yes, Henry.”
The two spoke at the same time before putting their notes aside and heading out. Susan was waiting in front of the library entrance.
“Oh hey you two. Thank you so much, Madam Pince. Been hiding away in the library, huh? My aunt is here and wants to… check the Goblet herself. Maybe you want to come meet her yourself.”
Irma Pince, still listening in, smiled.
“Making allies for the Tournament, Mr Potter?”
“Getting easy access to the beast import list and helping… that friend of mine.”
“Smart boy. Take ten points for that.”
As soon as they were in the hallway, Susan turned to them with a flabbergasted expression.
“Did she… did she just give you points? And is she in on your plans? You two and your secrets. Oh, helping you is going to be fun. I love a good conspiracy. Now let’s go meet auntie.”
Amelia Bones apparated as close to Hogwarts as possible and immediately called for the Hogwarts head elf.
“Good morning, I am Lady Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I am here to investigate the events surrounding Mr Potter’s entry in the Triwizard Tournament. Please inform the Headmaster and Deputy Head McGonagall, as well as my niece Susan Bones of my arrival.”
The elf bowed and popped away while Amelia walked up to the castle. Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape were already expecting her.
“Amelia, what brings you here?”
She sighed.
“Headmaster. Professionalism. I am here to investigate the Goblet debacle.”
The Headmaster already gave her the disappointed grandfather look and began to object.
“Don’t worry, we have Alastor and Severus checking already. You don’t need to worry.”
“Headmaster, you and I know that Mr Potter is a minor trapped in a potentially deadly magically binding contract. Alastor isn’t working as an Auror anymore and I have no idea what would qualify Mr Snape to head an investigation, though I know several facts that would disqualify him. You are acting negligently and if it weren’t for Irma Pince’s article clearing Mr Potter in the eyes of the public we two would have a very different conversation right now.”
Severus Snape stepped forward and glared at her.
“If the brat thinks he can get privileges just by whining and exploiting his fame, then…”
“Severus Snape, you better not finish that sentence or I’ll use all my power to suspend the Headmaster from his Wizengamot position so I can finally launch an investigation into your past, the potentially bogus pardon he got you and every single bloody complaint regarding your lack of professionalism. Like a wise man once said: therefore be silent, and keep your forked tongue behind your teeth.”
Minerva snorted while Snape seemed absolutely furious.
“Oh let those two grumble and come along Amelia.”
The two ladies made their way towards the Great Hall, because they were still keeping the Goblet in the adjourning antechamber. Just as they were out of hearing range of the two men, Minerva turned to Amelia.
“Do you go ‘you cannot pass’ at those trying to intrude on your crime scenes too?”
“You bet I do. Haven’t had the chance to do the whole facing a balrog number against a dark wizard yet though. Not that they’d get the reference I reckon.”
“Oh I’d pay good money to see that. But anyway, you’re here to look at the Goblet?”
“Partly.”
Minerva nodded, she expected as much.
“Your niece has been around Mr Potter and his friends a lot these past days and I know they’re conspiring with Filius and Bathsheda. I’ve apologised and promised to keep their secrets from Albus, but I don’t think they really trust me yet. Which is completely understandable, I’ve been following Albus’ lead blindly for quite a while. And his actions haven’t really been good for Mr Potter.”
“Don’t worry, Minerva. I’ll see to it that they get all the help they need. Just one more question: do you know anything about Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew?”
For a moment Minerva hesitated, but then she told Amelia what happened at the end of last year - or at least the part she knew. Pettigrew the rat, Black apparently being innocent, the Minister’s irrational behaviour and Snape lying through his teeth.
“Full confidentiality about that please, Minerva, but look at that.”
She handed her the document Potter sent her via mail, causing the Professor to turn pale within a fraction of a second.
“It really is true. Bloody hell, poor Sirius Black. Why did this only surface now if that was an appendix to the will?”
“I don’t know. He sent it to me via Susan. In all honesty, I believe the wills weren’t looked at until now and he found his way to Gringotts after the Goblet incident. I don’t think anyone but the goblins understood the repercussions of Potter’s participation.”
Minerva was about to say something about Potter sneaking out of the castle before she understood. The Tournament was for students legally and magically of age. So… an emancipation. And Filius… he had been unreachable for hours the day after the selection of the champions.
“I can’t wait to see what happens when Albus realises that whatever he had in mind failed. Let’s just hope that everything goes well for young Harry. So, just through there is the goblet and I’ll send you Susan if I see her.”
“I told the elf to inform her, just send her and the others my way. Thank you, Minerva.”
The Deputy Headmistress nodded, she seemed pretty thoughtful right now. It looked like her whole world view had been shattered for the hundredth or so time this week. Poor woman, she had always been an avid supporter of Dumbledore.
Once the door closed, Amelia drew her wand and began casting a few identification spells taught at the academy. The taints on the artefact were clear to anyone knowing what to look for. Some complicated influence, based on a ritual it seemed. She was not an expert in that, her focus was on wardbreaking in combat situations, but she was nonetheless proficient. Otherwise she wouldn’t have gotten the top job instead of Scrimgeour or Kingsley. Anyway, someone must have spent some time with the Goblet, basically changing the inner workings of it to select a Champion for a fourth school - also named Hogwarts, that needed a lot of work to get that one working for sure - and making sure that it would only accept Mr Potter as viable candidate. No overpowered compulsion charm could do that like some suggested the morning after the selection. Never. Unqualified idiots.
Someone knocked on the door and she opened, just to be hugged by her niece. Harry Potter and his brown-haired friend (presumably the famous Miss Granger) were right behind her.
“Hey Susan, good to see you. Lord Potter, I presume, together with Miss Granger? Your reputation precedes you.”
“Lady Bones, it is an honour to finally meet you. May our alliance stay strong.”
“Yes, may it stay strong. Miss Granger, nice to finally meet you.”
Both Harry and Hermione shook the offered hand before Amelia spotted the - now visible - rings on Harry’s finger.
“So you are the Heir Black. And that is from your French ancestors I presume? Like your grandfather was called, Fleamont. Marquis the Fleamont.”
“You’re the Heir Black, Harry?”
“Susan, please. I don’t think I have long until Dumbledore tries to kick me out again or tells me Snape can head a proper investigation. You guys catch up about all that later please. Now, I’ve seen the evidence and checked the files. Black didn’t even get a trial, he was just carried off to Azkaban. The transfer was signed by Bagnold, Crouch and Dumbledore. I’d actually not even need a Wizengamot session to acquit him, he was never formally charged. I’ll probably do that either way though and remind them of that fact.”
“I intended on giving Crouch the same document and reminding him of our families’ ties the next time he’s here. If he acts honourable I wouldn’t even need to expose my titles in the Wizengamot yet. You two should have sufficient sway, and if the Minister is reminded that he can rectify a mistake of the former government and give Dumbledore bad press… Yes, great-grandpa Henry’s portrait is a good influence on me.”
Amelia laughed. She had seen a few of old Henry Potter’s speeches when she was young. He didn’t show up often in the Wizengamot, this was Fleamont’s job, but when he wasn’t busy working, experimenting or teaching, he came and delivered speeches she would never forget. He was not just brilliant and scary, he was strong until his last day. He was nearly one hundred and fifty when he died in the seventies and never showed that he was ageing and getting weaker.
“Oh if that is the level of political finesse and plotting I can expect… brilliant. The weighing of the wands is next Friday, all the judges should be there by then. I’ll finish the paperwork until then so Barty can look over it himself. If Fudge is fast enough then we might have Black free before the first task. You know where he is?”
“Am I incriminating myself if I say yes?”
“I guess that tells me everything I need to know. Anything else?”
Harry nodded. There was loads more and probably not much time if Dumbledore was acting as always.
“Mione, Susan, take my cloak and hide under it. If I’m in here then we can say Lady Bones questioned me on the whole mess. Anyway… Remus Lupin is the steward of House Black if you need to send a letter to someone. I carry the gifts of both bloodlines, Emrys and Pendragon, so my claims on both are legit and Dumbledore won’t have any chance overturning them on these grounds, just so you know. I think he wants to keep me in the dark, but I don’t know why. Is it maliciousness, negligence, a horrible attempt at sheltering me - I honestly don’t know, but right now I don’t trust him. You know what Horcruxes are?”
Amelia blanched and grabbed her wand tightly. That was dark magic no one, especially no kind, should know about.
“I presume your reaction means yes. Well… Voldemort. I already destroyed one in second year and well, there are more. At least the goblin blood magic says so and they are looking into it. My scar is one too, but that is fixable.”
“Your…WHAT? That… that should be impossible on so many levels.”
“He’s made so many that this one - probably accidental as a result of the backlash of energy Halloween 1981 - is so small that a potions regime plus an exorcist can almost certainly remove it. Like over 97 percent sure. We presume the Headmaster knows about its existence and recognised the other Horcrux after I destroyed it.”
“So he thinks you have to die for you-know-who…whatever… for Voldemort to be mortal. He doesn’t care and doesn’t help because in the end you’re basically dead either…”
The door opened and Dumbledore came in, closely followed by Moody and Snape.
“Amelia. What are you doing here?”
“My job, bloody hell. And get professional, Headmaster.”
“Why are you talking to young Harry here without informing me?”
Amelia closed her eyes for a second and took a very deep breath.
“Dumbledore. First off, you’re unprofessional to both Mr Potter and me. Secondly, what Mr Snape is doing here I do not understand. He has no qualifications to lead any sort of investigation, he is not your deputy and he is not Mr Potter’s Head of House. I am talking to Mr Potter regarding his selection and trying to help him in any way. And Minerva is okay with that. In any way, I am probably going to send an Unspeakable or two your way to get more detailed information out of that thing. For the time being I have enough.”
She turned around and marched out of the antechamber, Harry following her closely after glaring at the Headmaster and Snape. Amelia turned around once more after Moody took a sip out of his flask.
“And Alastor, how is the leg?”
“Bloody stairs making my day living hell. Don’t know why I ever agreed to that job.”
Amelia smiled.
“That reminds me of you in my academy days. Never change, Alastor.”
“Had no intention to, Bones.”
As soon as Amelia was out of the Great Hall and on her way to the front gate she swore.
“Bloody fucking hell.”
Susan pulled the invisibility cloak off of them and looked at her confused.
“You smelled that too, Lady Bones?”
“Yes, Miss Granger, I did. Bloody fluxweed. That’s why I asked him a security question. He’d alway say “better than when I had my old one. This one’s got less scars and holes.” I hate Polyjuice Potion. That is not Alastor Moody. But does Snape make the potion for him so Moody can go on a secret mission for Dumbledore while everyone assumes he is still here or is it a dark imposter entering you into the Tournament, Mr Potter? Things just got a lot more complicated.”
She turned around and gave Susan a hug while discretely shoving a file into her bag before saying goodbye to them. Amelia Bones had a lot of things to do now. Bloody hell.