2 - The Hearing & Paradigm Shifts
12 August 1995
Grimmauld Place
Alhena and Harry had been at Grimmauld Place for just over a week now, and the difference was noticeable. When they initially arrived, everything was dark, dank, and dreary. That had transformed virtually overnight as Kreacher had gone on an overnight cleaning spree, restoring the house to its former glory. This had earned Alhena the reluctant respect of Walburga Black, which was no small feat, considering that Walburga didn’t respect anyone, except maybe a certain Dark Lord.
But today Alhena had all but dragged Harry into one of the bathrooms at six in the morning, and was desperately transfiguring his shoddy muggle clothes to robes fitting for people that would stand in front of the Wizengamot and win. “First impressions are important, you dunderhead. I don’t trust the ministry to not change the hearing on a whim. I also demand that you let me do the talking, because you wouldn’t even know where to begin dealing with the incompetent moron called Minister Cornelius Oswald Fudge. So, stay quiet, let me do the talking, and keep your temper in check as much as possible. Got it?”
Harry nodded. “Stay quiet, let you do the talking, mind my temper. Got it.”
“Now, let’s have breakfast.” Alhena led the way down to the kitchens, surprising Molly, who had just put down the dishrag she had been using, and Arthur, who was sipping tea. “Good morning, Mrs Weasley, Mr Weasley.”
“Alhena, Harry, I was just going to wake you up, dears.” Molly gave them a once-over. “Aren’t you a bit overdressed, dears?”
“Better safe than sorry, Mrs Weasley. I don’t trust the ministry to not try and trip us up.” Alhena turned to Arthur. “Mr Weasley, can we go to the ministry earlier, around seven, via the Floo? I have a very strong feeling they’re going to change the venue of the hearing on us, and time is of the essence.”
“Of course.” Arthur conceded. “The change isn’t an issue.”
Alhena and Harry had breakfast – and they were joined by Sirius and Remus halfway through, the pair snickering over something – even through Alhena’s stomach felt like a roiling pool of dread. When the clock struck seven, Alhena stood, shrugging her cloak on. “Okay, time to face the music.”
Ministry of Magic
Alhena went through the Floo first, followed by Arthur, and lastly Harry – who, for once, didn’t end up in a useless heap. They signed in, with Alhena drawing some looks as her wand’s composition was called out – yew and dragon heartstring, 14 inches – although she held up her hand for the slips of parchment. The guard made copies and handed them to Alhena, who put them in her pocket.
They were halfway to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement when a searing pain shot through Alhena’s skull as she had a sudden vision. “Change of plans. The hearing has been moved to eight o’clock, in Courtroom Ten. Circe knows why.” Arthur – having heard from Hermione, Ron, and the Twins about Alhena’s visions – just pressed the button for the Department of Mysteries.
When they got off, Alhena smiled at Arthur. “Go to work. We’ll be fine. It’s only seven-thirty anyway.” When Arthur left, she sagged into an alcove just off the stairs, quietly cursing Fudge in Parseltongue before formulating her battle plan – of sorts – until quarter-to. Then, she straightened up, fixed her hair and her robes, and channelled every bit of Dorea Black-Potter that she could muster, before resolutely striding to the door of Courtroom Ten, her robes billowing behind her. “Okay, Harry, straighten up. Don’t slouch like a hooligan – it leaves a bad impression – but don’t be like Malfoy either. Yes, perfect. Remember the plan?”
“Stay quiet, let you do the talking, mind my temper.” Harry repeated.
“Good. Let’s go.” She raised her hand and knocked precisely three times.
The door swung open, and they strode in. Alhena could tell that they’d caught Fudge completely off guard, showing up fifteen minutes early. He had been relying on then being late due to the unexpected time change, then.
The trial started, and Alhena stood when Fudge called for the accused to speak. “Merry meet, esteemed members of the Wizengamot, Minister Fudge, Senior Undersecretary Umbridge.” She could tell that the formal greeting caught their attention, and shut Fudge up by the sheer unexpectedness of it, drastically improving their chances of winning. “When we – my brother and I – received the notice of our expulsion on grounds of illegal underage magic, I will admit I was perplexed. The usage of the Patronus charm, after all, falls under the Reasonable Restrictions of Underage Sorcery – provided that the individual can actually produce it. Protego, and variants thereof, such as Protego Maxima and Protego Diabolica, also does fall under the Reasonable Restrictions of Underage Sorcery. The usage of both were warranted, since we had been attacked by dementors.”
“Dementors in Surrey? Preposterous!” Fudge scoffed.
“Sadly not, Minister Fudge.” Alhena’s tone became tinted with sadness. “Our cousin, Dudley Dursley, was Kissed before either of us could do anything, because the unexpected wave of cold had frozen us to the spot. If you do not believe me, as of the last time we heard anything from our Aunt, he was taken up in a private hospital in London. This brings me to my next point,” she paused to take a breath, “the breaking of the Statute of Secrecy. Our aunt, Mrs Petunia Rose Dursley née Evans, was the older sister of our late mother, Lady Lily Marie Potter née Evans, and as such was already privy to magic. Her husband, Mr Vernon Dursley, and son, Dudley, lived in the same house as us, and thus were also privy to magic. The only other witness, Mrs Arabella Figg, is a squib, meaning she was privy to magic. We were in a tunnel, Minister Fudge, and there was no-one else around except us that could have seen, since everyone was indoors to take refuge from the heat. As such, it can be argued that we did not actually break the Statute, because everyone involved was knowledgeable prior to the incident.”
Alhena could feel the respect and admiration she was gaining from the Wizengamot as Fudge asked one of the Aurors – ironically, it was Kingsley Shacklebolt – if her claim on her cousin’s state and location was true, and got the confirmation back. She turned her attention to the Wizengamot as one of the lords stood. “Miss Potter, Mr Potter, would both of you be willing to perform the spells mentioned?”
“We certainly would, Lord…” Alhena trailed off, since he hadn’t introduced himself.
“Corvus Lestrange, Miss Potter.” Corvus’ dark eyes were fixed on her.
“We certainly would, Lord Lestrange.” Alhena turned to give Harry a look, and nodded.
Harry immediately stood, pulling out his wand and casting. Mere moments later, Prongs was standing in front of them, looking incredibly haughty. It made Alhena smile as she pulled out her wand, silently casting the shimmering silver barrier that had sprang up.
“Miss Potter, what exactly is that spell? I find myself stumped by what it is, although it seems to fall under Protego.” Another lord spoke up. Alhena could tell that he shared a resemblance to Theodore Nott, and took a calculated risk.
“Lord Benjamin Nott, I presume?” At his nod, Alhena elaborated. “Lord Nott, according to the best of my knowledge, it is a variant of Protego Diabolica. However, it is one of my own creations – accidentally, mind – because I once tried to cast Protego Diabolica while wondering what it would look like if it was made of silver fire. This,” she gestured to the barrier, “is the result. However, I do not have an incantation for it.”
Various members of the Wizengamot seemed suitably impressed, but Corvus stood again. “Miss Potter, can you produce a Patronus? If so, I would be most honoured to see it.”
Alhena closed her eyes and focused on the feeling she got when Salazar and Linfred were offering their advice while she was doing her potions homework – out of their own wills, since she was a natural and didn’t really need it – and quietly whispered, “Expecto patronum.”
She could hear several members of the Wizengamot inhale sharply, and opened her eyes. Her raven patronus – Nyx – was perched on one of Prongs’ antlers. The sight was enough to bring a smile to her face.
“A raven, Miss Potter?” Corvus sounded impressed and intrigued.
“A messenger, an omen… It can symbolise many things, similar to a grim.” Alhena met Corvus’ eyes. “Grims are considered omens of death, but they’re also protectors of the innocent, which many forget.” She looked back to where Nyx was perched on Prongs’ antler, a wistful smile on her face. “Ravens are intelligent, and dare I say, proud. Earn their trust, and they will return, often bearing gifts.”
The patroni gradually faded from view as Fudge called for a vote. “Guilty?”
No one raised a wand.
“Innocent?”
All of the wands were raised, and Fudge banged the gavel. “The verdict returns. You are free to go, Miss Potter, Mr Potter. The charges will be erased.”
Just then Dumbledore came striding in, only to pause in his tracks. Alhena gave him a polite smile as they left, taking the elevator up to the Atrium before taking the Floo to Grimmauld Place.
Grimmauld Place
Alhena grinned as they stepped out of the Floo. “Innocent and cleared of all charges!”
A cheer went up, and Molly was beaming. “Oh, I’ll bake a cake. It’s something to celebrate!”
“Damn, how long did that take?” Ron sounded curious.
“Thirty minutes. And I spent most of it pointing out several facts and maybe making Fudge look like an idiot to far more intelligent people, and then showing off,” Alhena responded. “Can someone please let Mr Weasley know that we made our way back safely?”
“I’ll do that, dear,” Molly smiled.
“If nobody objects, I’m going to go take a nap. Channelling Grandma Dorea took a fair amount of mental energy.” Alhena didn’t wait for an answer, turning to head to her room. She wasn’t going to take a nap. She was planning on sneaking out to Gringotts, wanting to do an inheritance test.
Silver Swan Restaurant
“Corvus, I swear to Morgana, that girl was radiating power,” Benjamin said as he, Corvus, Lucius, Julian Montague, Ares Flint, Armand Warrington, Jeremiah Travers, Gareth Greengrass and Alessandria Zabini were seated in a private room at the Silver Swan restaurant, just off of Diagon Alley, for a customary post-Wizengamot meeting.
“Forget power. When I looked at her, I could see several of the Blacks. Dorea, Arcturus and Orion, specifically. Fierce, powerful and protective.” Ares shook his head. “Mr Potter also didn’t say a single word at all.”
“The fact that she could make Fudge look like an utter idiot to the peerage without him noticing is astounding,” Lucius sounded awed.
Corvus listened to the conversation with only half an ear. His mind was on Carina Haydon and Orion Black, for some reason. “What happened to Carina Haydon?”
Everyone’s attention snapped to Corvus, even as Gareth arched an eyebrow. “What?”
“I’m wondering, what happened to Carina Haydon? She suspiciously disappeared in August of 1979, at around seven months pregnant, and she was never found. Bagnold wrote her off as a casualty of the war. But I knew Carina. She was the most paranoid person I’ve ever met, and she and Orion were in a relationship at the time. It would’ve been nigh impossible to kidnap Carina, never mind attempting to get through her wards.” Corvus’ expression was thoughtful and pained simultaneously.
“What prompted this?” Gareth arched an eyebrow.
“Alhena Potter actually has an uncanny resemblance to both Lily Potter and Carina Haydon. Her hair looks more like the Black family curls than the Potter family hair – and there were Blacks with red hair. Also, her eyes are more of a greenish grey than Heir Potter’s – or even Lily Potter’s – emerald green. Carina and Lily looked like cousins, if you can recall.” Corvus was incredibly suspicious. “And isn’t Alhena’s birthday in September?”
“October, actually. October first, to the minute. She was found in a basket at St. Mungo’s, an entire month premature, but alive. She was adopted by the Potters soon after. Any records on blood tests mysteriously disappeared soon after. The only records that remain are her date and time of birth, and inoculations and such.” Julian stated. “What, I’m a Healer.”
“And Carina was due at the end of October. This is incredibly suspicious.” Ares looked around.
“Suspicious, indeed.”
Gringotts Bank
Alhena stared at the parchment, only mildly aware of the air around her turning frigid as she read.
Name: Alhena Melania Carina Black-Peverell
Born: 1st October 1979, Ridgeford Cottage, Surrey
Age: 15 years 10 Months
Blood Status: Pureblood
Parents:
Orion Arcturus Black (father, incredibly compromised)
Carina Isolde Gaunt-Haydon (mother, deceased)
James Charlus Potter (blood adopted father, deceased) *
Lily Marie Potter née Evans (blood adopted mother, deceased) *
Titles:
Lady of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Peverell
Lady of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Slytherin
Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Gaunt
Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black**
Lady of the Noble House of Haydon
Honoured High Necromancer***
Vaults:
Alhena Potter Vault – 50,000 Galleons
Peverell Family Vaults – 20,000,000,000 Galleons, 2800 artefacts
Slytherin Family Vaults – 45,000,000 Galleons, 355 artefacts
Gaunt Family Vaults – 750,000 Galleons, 20 artefacts
Black Heir Vault – 100,000 Galleons
Black Family Vaults – 2,500,000,000 Galleons, 590 artefacts
Haydon Family Vaults – 1,500,000 Galleons, 110 Artefacts
Magical Abilities:
Core magic – Dark Neutral
Necromancy
Metamorphmagus
Eidetic Memory
Parseltongue
Soul Mage
Natural Healer
Seer****
Mage sight
Malignant Legilimens*****
Natural Occlumens
Properties:
(Request audit)
Magical bonds:
Familiar bond – Minerva (great horned owl)
Familiar bond – Nyx (raven)
Soul bond (nearly mature) – Rabastan & Rodolphus Lestrange
Notes:
*: Blood adoption did not take properly, reason unknown.
**: Declared by Lord Arcturus Black, November 1981
***: Incredibly rare title, has been noticed by Necromancers’ Alliance.
****: Type of seer unknown, possibly multiple.
*****: Cannot be blocked with Occlumency, incredibly rare ability.
“Miss Black? Miss Black? Please focus. It’s almost snowing in my office.” The Potter account manager’s – Farlig’s – tone was almost frantic, and that was what finally snapped Alhena out of her trance, and she hurriedly reined her magic back in.
“My sincerest apologies, Manager Farlig. I lost control from the shock.”
“Understandable, you just underwent a massive upheaval of everything you’ve ever known.” Farlig sighed. “Do you want us to run the audit?”
“For a fee, of course.” Alhena smiled.
Farlig took the bait. “100 Galleons.”
“10.”
“90.”
“20.”
“80.”
“30.”
“70.”
“40.”
“60.”
“50.”
“50 Galleons it is, Miss Black.” Farlig loved a good haggle.
Alhena smiled. “Send it to me with the fiercest owl you have.”
“Five Galleons per letter, fixed rate.”
“Consider it paid. Take the fee from the Black Heir Vault.” Alhena nodded.
“On to the matter of heir and lordship rings. You currently have three lordship rings and two heirship rings. Would you like to put them on?”
“Certainly, Manager Farlig.”
Farlig pushed the boxes over to Alhena. “Go in order from oldest house.”
Alhena did as told, sliding each ring onto her left index finger. The Peverell ring sent a chill of ice down her spine, the Slytherin and Gaunt rings hissed, the Haydon heir ring evoked a feeling of the greenhouse soil, and the Black heir ring felt like Grimmauld Place, but more intense. After the rings merged, they discussed a few matters of investments, before she stood and bowed respectfully. “May your fortune grow with each day, Manager Farlig.”
“May your enemies fear your name even in death, Heir Black.” Farlig returned the greeting.