Daughter of the Stars

5 January 1996

Hogwarts Express

Alhena giggled as the Slytherin fifth-years drifted between the two compartments they occupied, smirking ever so slightly as various members oohed and aahed over Mintaka. They were collectively bound to secrecy over Mintaka’s exact species, but the fear in Pansy’s eyes fed into Alhena’s schadenfreude. And she couldn’t exactly report it to Severus either, since Alhena had notified him of her recent acquisition before the end of the previous year.

So, they were catching up, detailing their winter breaks, and discussing various social functions. Naturally, the conversation turned to the Malfoys’ Winter Ball, and soon everyone’s eyes were on Alhena. “What?”

“Alhena Black-Peverell, don’t what us!” Daphne said faux-crossly. “You spent the better part of an hour dancing with Heirs Lestrange! Flawlessly! And don’t think I can’t notice the necklace hidden beneath your robes!” She fixed Alhena with a stare that wouldn’t look out of place on Mintaka, demanding answers.

Alhena’s hair turned bright pink, setting the rest of the Silver Quartet off into laughter. “Thanks for the support,” Alhena muttered sarcastically as she pulled the necklace out from underneath her robes. “Fine, we’re soulmates.” Alhena glared in a way that vividly resembled the late Lady Melania Black. “And the necklace was the first courting gift.” Daphne squealed, causing Alhena to facepalm. “Yeah, yeah, it’s exciting. But do calm down before we attract undue attention.”

Draco was staring at the necklace in shock. “I wonder how they managed to get Lord Lestrange to allow them to gift you with Lady Elizabeth Lestrange née Tremblay’s necklace. Mother has told tales about how Bellatrix coveted that necklace but was never even allowed within six feet of it, much less allowed to touch it.”

Alhena smiled, shrugging. “I didn’t ask. But it’s comforting. Warm, too.”

Hermione giggled. “Chances of her taking it off?”

“Never, unless her soulmates take it off for her.” Tracey called from where she was seated.

“Seconding Tracey,” Theo muttered from behind his book.

“I third,” Millicent added.

“Correct. The only way this is getting off me is if they remove it.” Alhena took Pacify from her bag, settling in to read it.

“Chances of Dumbledore recognising it?” Blaise asked worriedly.

“Charmed invisible to anyone not in the Dark or Neutral sect,” Alhena muttered, absorbed in her book.

“And they’re lost to us,” Harry said as Hermione scoffed and took out Rushing Water.

“What exactly is the Silver Quartet composed of anyway?” Blaise arched an eyebrow.

“A Quidditch fanatic and Defence natural, a temperamental arse of a chessmaster and strategist, a conventional genius whose only weak points lie in creativity and flying, and a genius necromancer who might very well be chaos personified due to their sheer defiance of every known law of magic, Gamp’s Law included,” Harry said with a smirk.

“Defiance of every known law of magic? What do you mean?” Daphne was interested now.

“Where Alhena is concerned, the limit of what she can do with her magic is literally her imagination. As long as she can imagine it, she can do it. Even if it breaks Gamp’s Law.”

“Gamp’s Law is more of a suggestion so you don’t overtax your magic if you don’t have enough magic in reserve,” Alhena muttered from behind her book. “So, it’s not a universal law of magic, it’s more based on power levels.”

“How many people in this carriage have the ability to break Gamp’s Law?” Daphne’s interest was growing.

“Everyone except Vincent and Gregory. Parkinson could, but just barely,” Alhena still didn’t look up. “In order, from highest power levels to lowest, it’d be me, Harry, Draco, Hermione, Theo, Daphne, Tracey, Blaise, Millicent, Ronald, Parkinson, Vincent and Gregory.”

“How do you even know that?” Millicent barely kept a look of disbelief off her face.

“Mage sight. Auras glow with power levels, and as they wax and wane. It’s highly annoying, but not as annoying as Malignant Legilimency,” Alhena’s attention had clearly returned to her book, and they knew to disturb her now could be fatal, so they reluctantly turned their attention elsewhere.

9 January 1996

Hogwarts

“Al, you’ve got mail,” Ron whispered to Alhena at breakfast. “Whoever the raven is, it isn’t Nyx.”

Alhena looked up from her book and blushed at the curious glances from her housemates. Hermione had a knowing glint in her eye as Alhena softly spoke to the raven. “Hello, I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, Perseus. Do you have something for me?”

The raven – Perseus – bobbed his head, and held out his leg. Alhena untied the parcel and letters with a small smile, spotting the Lestrange crest on the band around Perseus’ leg. “Thank you.” She let him have his pick from the container of seeds she kept around for Nyx, and smiled as he flew away.

“Ooh, I wonder what it is?” Hermione was bouncing in her seat.

“Shh, watch the toad!” Alhena whisper-yelled. “She looks like she had an… unfortunate run-in with the spells on my mail. I see where my betrothed get their reputation from.”

“Couldn’t you have Min bite her, save us the rest of the term in hell, mate?” Ron whispered desperately.

“I have an idea, but it’s going to be a bit difficult to implement,” Alhena whispered back.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on…” Ron paled behind his freckles.

“Circe, no. Nothing that drastic, I value my unblemished hands,” Alhena whispered quietly. “People forget house-elves exist. I’ll ask them nicely.”

 The rest of the Silver Quartet facepalmed, but they quickly blanked their expressions as Umbridge stormed over to their table, speaking loudly. “Black, I demand you hand over whatever contraband you’ve received!”

“Madam Umbridge, it is against the law to intercept – or otherwise interfere with – courtship gifts, as clearly stated in Cassius Byrne’s Laws of Noble Houses, passed in 1396,” Alhena’s voice and appearance were calm – slightly cold, even – as she spoke. “So, unless you want to be held in contempt of the foundational laws of Wixen Britain, or face the wrath of the House of Black and its allies, I would advise that you desist.”

Umbridge’s face was red from rage, but she snapped her mouth shut and stormed away, at least recognising Alhena’s threat for what it was. But the Slytherins were disquieted, and Alhena knew she had to act fast.

The lunchtime saw Alhena in the kitchens with Hermione and Daphne, breathing heavily as she asked for the house-elves’ help. “We need one of the house-elves to grab one of Umbridge’s blood quills and copy all of the parchments with lines that are written in blood, as well as all of the Educational Decrees. Leave the copies exactly where you found the originals, and give the quill and the originals to me. I need it done as soon as possible.”

“We can be doing that, Missy Snakey,” one of the house-elves said as they bounced energetically. “Coral will be doing that now.”

“Thank you, Coral. Bring it to my dorm, if nobody else is in there except for us three.” Alhena sagged with relief.

“Coral will.” The house-elf popped away, and Alhena shadow-stepped with Hermione and Daphne to their dorm room. Fifteen minutes later, Coral popped in with a blood quill and an insane amount of parchment rolls, more than enough to make Alhena sick.

“Thank you, Coral. You may return to your duties.” Alhena’s voice was shaking. When Coral popped Away, Alhena turned to her friends. “This is massive. We have to get this to Madam Bones as soon as possible.”

“How? Umbitch is monitoring our mail.” Daphne wanted to curse something.

“My shadows. They’ll work.” Alhena had conjured a box, and was applying undetectable expansion charms to the split interior. “They have to, we can’t let this continue.” She levitated the rolls of parchment into one compartment, and the Educational Decrees into the other, before creating a false lid for the expanded part, and laying the quill on top. The box sealed itself, and Alhena wrapped it in plain brown paper with a wave of her hand. She hurriedly wrote a note and put it in an envelope, sticking it to the top of the box, before writing in red ink on the envelope: “CRITICALLY URGENT – FOR THE ATTENTION OF HEAD OF DMLE, MADAM AMELIA BONES.”

“Let’s hope she takes us seriously,” Hermione said fearfully.

“And takes Fudge to task, in the process,” Alhena muttered as she wrapped her shadows around the box, depositing it on Dora’ desk in the Auror Office. She was shaking, looking out of the window at the Black Lake. “If any of the gods are listening, please have mercy on us. Please help us.” Alhena wasn’t particularly religious – Pagan or otherwise – but all she could do was pray.

Ministry of Magic

Dora had been talking to Dawlish when the box arrived on her desk in a cloud of shadows. Both of them stared at it in mute shock, before Dora saw the note on top. “Why would Alhena… Never mind, let’s take this to Madam Bones.” She levitated the box ahead of them.

“A wise choice, Tonks.”

“Call me Dora, Dawlish. I think you’ve earned it.”

“John, then.” He sighed, walking behind her. “I wonder what’s inside.”

“Critically urgent, in all caps and red ink, straight to the top of the department? Can’t be anything good.” Dora shook her head, walking up to Colette Swann – Amelia’s secretary.

Colette looked up. “How can I help you, Aurors?”

“Is Madam Bones available? This arrived, and it’s – in the sender’s own words – critically urgent.” John’s tone had gone serious.

“Yes, she’s available. Head on in,” Colette let them through.

Amelia looked up when the Aurors entered. “Good afternoon, Aurors Tonks, Dawlish. How can I help you?”

“This box arrived on my desk in a literal cloud of shadows, Madam Bones,” Dora explained. “Based on the handwriting and the shadows, it comes from Alhena Black. We didn’t open it, but she isn’t a malignant or pranking sort.” She set it on Amelia’s desk.

Amelia’s gaze immediately fixed on the envelope, and she immediately reached for the note. With every word she read, she simultaneously grew paler and more furious.

‘To Madam Amelia Bones,
Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,

This box contains a non-standard blood quill – which could rightly be classified as a banned object according to several ICW treaties – used by the Hogwarts High Inquisitor, Dolores Jane Umbridge, in her detentions. While neither my friends nor I have had the pleasure of being in her detentions, I have seen the scars on first-year students. She has altered the wards – Hogwarts isn’t happy about it – to reroute mail so that she can view it first, and had a run-in with the spells on a courtship gift sent to me this morning when she attempted to confiscate it.

The box – underneath the false lid – has an Undetectable Expansion Charm applied, and inside are numerous rolls of parchment written in the students’ own blood. I did not dare open even one to read what was written, because the mere sight of the amount of parchment made me sick.

According to the numerous Educational Decrees (the originals of which are in the box as well) put up in front of the Great Hall, Umbridge’s actions are being approved by the Minister himself, and if it wasn’t for the fact that I am currently at Hogwarts, I would call for an emergency Wizengamot session to judge the suitability of the Minister myself. There is very little that prevents her from harming heirs or underage lords – Susan included – and I fear for all of our safety. The staff cannot interfere, because to do so would render their jobs forfeit.

I am placing my faith in you, Madam Bones, to do what is right – not easy. And I pray to the gods that my faith is not misplaced.

Alhena Black,
Heir Black’

Amelia was obviously furious as she opened the box, doing a magical scan of the blood quill. Umbridge’s magical signature was all over it, and Amelia grimly put the quill into an evidence bag, placing the readout on the desk. Then she opened the false lid, and all three people stared at the rolls of parchment in horror.

“That has to be at least three-quarters of the school!” John exclaimed furiously.

Amelia decided then, standing up. “This is going to the Wizengamot, immediately. We don’t have any time to lose.” She pointed her wand at the box, and a bright red EVIDENCE wrote itself across the sides of the box. “Dawlish, Tonks, with me.” She levitated it ahead, sending a message to the entire Wizengamot. “Emergency session, now!”

Hogwarts

“Madam Bones just called an emergency Wizengamot session,” Alhena quietly whispered to Hermione and Daphne in Transfiguration.

Both girls sighed in relief, focusing on the lesson. All three of them were praying it would go well, silently begging whatever gods were listening to have mercy. And, just maybe, one of them did.

Ministry of Magic

“Amelia, what’s the meaning of this?” Fudge blustered as he entered.

“You’ll find out soon enough, Cornelius,” Amelia’s voice was like ice as she watched the members of the Wizengamot – those that weren’t in school anyway, such as Lady Peverell – filter into one of the courtrooms. Once they were seated, and the doors locked, she cast a Sonorus. “Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot, I called an emergency session for a very good reason. I received a highly concerning parcel from one of our esteemed members – Lady Peverell – two hours ago, and the contents point to a grave injustice at Hogwarts.” She didn’t miss how Corvus Lestrange straightened up at the mention of Alhena’s title.

“Amelia?” Fudge was turning beet red. Amelia ignored him.

“According to Lady Peverell, students as young as eleven-years-old were being tortured in detentions with Madam Umbridge, who used a non-standard blood quill to do so,” Amelia’s fury was clear in her words, “and the staff cannot stop her, because to do so would render their jobs forfeit.” She levitated the rolls of parchment out and unrolled them with a spell, taking in everyone’s expressions as they read what was written. “Students in detention for reading Witch Weekly or Transfiguration Today at mealtimes, or in their dorms. Students in detention for practising spells on the Defence curriculum – as it’s their OWL or NEWT year – in their common rooms, due to theory-only lessons. Students in detention for questioning the High Inquisitor’s authority, even if it’s as much as a ‘Why does Slinkhard say this? The book doesn’t explain.’ Students in detention for non-standard pets, ignoring the fact that familiars are the exception to the owl, cat, or toad rule. Students in detention for taking notes that aren’t in English, never mind that Hogwarts is open to anyone that lives in the British Isles, or applies from abroad. Students in detention for having creature ancestry, which isn’t their fault. Students in detention for not speaking properly due to speech impediments.

“And who authorised it? Minister Fudge. His signature is clear on every single one of these Educational Decrees.” Amelia levitated every single one of them out of the box, enlarging them so Fudge’s signature was clearly visible. “I ask you, do you think such a man is suitable to lead us? When he condones the torture of minors, many of which are underage heirs, such as Miss Brown or Miss Parvati Patil? Or Miss Lovegood? Or Mr Longbottom?” Her voice practically radiated her fury. “And, are you going to condone the torture of minors, potentially your own heirs?” Amelia took a moment to calm down. “Lady Peverell sent all of this to me hours after Umbridge attempted to confiscate a courtship gift she had received. And, according to Cassius Byrne’s Laws of Noble Houses, passed in 1396, it is against the law to intercept – or otherwise interfere with – courtship gifts.”

As she predicted, there was a massive outcry. But what she hadn’t predicted was Orion, Thomas and Corvus’ magic practically washing over the courtroom in a simultaneous tidal wave in mutual fury, joined shortly afterwards by that of Augusta. Thomas was the first to speak, his voice sibilant in his fury. “I call for a vote of no-confidence against Minister Fudge. Those for?”

Tiberius didn’t even bother with interfering, lighting up his wand. Moments later, the entire courtroom was filled with blinding light.

“Those against?”

Not a single light went up, so Thomas went on. “By a unanimous vote, Cornelius Oswald Fudge is no longer Minister of Magic. Who do you nominate for Minister?”

They froze as a silver raven patronus – fresh in the minds of everyone present at the farce of a hearing/trial the previous summer – glided into the room. It spoke in Alhena’s voice, “If the Wizengamot is voting on a new minister, I nominate Amelia Bones.”

Orion checked his pocket watch. “She’s halfway through a double period of Transfiguration.”

“Thank you for your swift actions, Lord Gaunt.” Tiberius took over. “Amelia Bones has been nominated. Do you wish to nominate anyone else?” After two minutes passed with no response, he continued. “Those for Madam Bones as Minister?”

The courtroom was flooded with light again, and Tiberius smiled. “This might be redundant, but those against?”

No light, none at all.

“Then Amelia is our new minister.”

Applause went up, surprising everyone as the Dark Sect was the loudest in their approval.

Amelia smiled wryly. “Then I nominate Auror Shacklebolt as my successor as the head of the DMLE.” She sighed. “My first action as Minister shall be to order the arrest of Dolores Jane Umbridge, preferably by dinnertime.”

Laughter went up, even as Amelia continued. “My second action is to render the Educational Decrees and the position of Hogwarts’ High Inquisitor void.”

Hogwarts

Even the Slytherins were subdued by dinnertime, casting glances at each other as the evening mail arrived. Alhena had barely untied her copy of the Evening Prophet when she heard Ginny exclaim – from the other side of the Great Hall, a noticeable feat – “Fudge has been sacked via a unanimous vote in an emergency Wizengamot session! Amelia Bones is the new Minister!”

Alhena and Hermione traded looks, before the two of them read the front-page article.

‘Fudge Sacked as Minister! Amelia Bones New Minister of Magic!
By Rita Skeeter 

Dear readers, today is a momentous occasion. Today marks a change between administrations.

Today, in an emergency session of the Wizengamot, Cornelius Fudge was unanimously sacked as Minister, and a second unanimous vote declared Amelia Bones our new minister. I’m sure you’re wondering why an emergency Wizengamot session was called, dear readers, and I shall gladly inform you. One of the esteemed Peers of the Wizengamot – who shall remain anonymous per their wishes – sent a box containing evidence of grave injustice at Hogwarts to Minister Bones – who, at the time, was still the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement – marked “CRITICALLY URGENT.” The contents were grounds for an emergency session to decide what should be done.

I am simultaneously glad and saddened I was not present to witness the righteous anger of Minister Bones – or that of Lords Black, Gaunt and Lestrange, and Dowager Lady Longbottom – but my sources tell me that it was a sight to see.

Kingsley Shacklebolt – one of our intrepid Aurors – has been appointed as the new Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I wish him luck with his new position, from all of us at the Daily Prophet.

That shall be all, dear readers. Until I receive more information, this is your intrepid reporter, Rita Skeeter, signing off.

(For information on the Wizengamot Peerage, turn to page 6.)

Alhena had barely finished reading the article when the doors of the Great Hall burst open, and Kingsley came striding in, followed by Dora and John. Dumbledore stood, a smile on his face. “Kingsley, John, Nymphadora, welcome. What brings you here at dinnertime?”

“This is not a social visit, Headmaster,” Kingsley’s tone was icy. “We are here to arrest Dolores Umbridge, by order of the Minister herself.”

Umbridge panicked and tried to run, but Hogwarts’ wards – being fed up with the injustice and happy to help a Founders’ Heir – froze her on the spot. John muttered, “Thanks, Hogwarts,” under his breath, snapping the magic-restraining cuffs on her.

“Least dramatic arrest ever,” Susan Bones said in a stage whisper over at the Hufflepuff table, sending the entire student population into laughter.

“And, by decree of the Minister herself, the position of Hogwarts’ High Inquisitor and the Educational Decrees are void,” Kingsley announced with a weak Sonorus. “That shall be all, good day.” The three DMLE members left.

“That… was anticlimactic,” Draco said from where he was seated next to Harry.

Ginny stood up at the Gryffindor table, facing the Hall, and cast Sonorus. “Okay, students of Hogwarts, if you had any say, who do you want as the Defence professor for the rest of the year?”

The third through seventh years from all houses – without prompting – responded as one, “Professor Lupin!”

Dumbledore looked pained for a split second, but plastered his genial grandfatherly look onto his face. “I hear the students, and I shall ask Professor Lupin to return to teaching for the remainder of the school year. Thank you.”

Alhena turned to Hermione and whispered, “What are the chances that I could bribe Thomas to undo the Defence Curse?”