Once Upon a Wish

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That night at dinner, Harry told Vic about his dream. He told all about it in great detail. How it felt, how real it was and how scared he was when he woke. His tone was that of a terrified child relaying a scary experience to a trusted adult, and Vic took it very seriously.

“And you think this figure was Death?” the older man asked, serving up some roasted chicken with shaky hands. He was concerned that Harry had to go through that. It was too close to home for him. The Tale of the Three Brothers was something that had haunted his childhood.

“Sure felt like it,” Harry said, dishing up some mashed potatoes. If Vic was going to act like normal, then he was going to try too. It was a simple fare tonight. The broccoli and cheese completed the dinner.  

“I’m sure you were very frightened,” Vic said in a consolatory way. He put his hands on his lap for a moment to hide their shaking. Then he took up his glass of wine and sipped.

“I have never felt so scared in all my life. It felt so real,” the boy confessed. He could still feel the cold breath down his neck if he thought about it. A chill ran down his spine for no reason.

“Well, I’m not sure what to say. Maybe it’s because of all the goings on that you dreamed of it. Have you been reading Tales of Beedle the Bard?” Vic asked, putting his napkin in his lap, and taking up his eating utensils. He was going to play it off and hoped that it was a one-time thing. He didn’t want Harry to dwell on it. If it doesn’t happen again, then good. If it did, then they’d deal with it then.  

“Not recently,” Harry said thoughtfully, thinking of the last time he read The Tale of the Three Brothers. “I know what you’re talking about though. Do you really think it’s as simple as that?” He really hoped so. The last thing he needed was to be chased by Death. He didn’t want the Deathly Hallows. Who would want to be Master of Death? That deity was downright scary.

“I would like to believe that it’s just your imagination, and not Death coming to call,” the other man said, really hoping Death wasn’t taking an interest in his nephew. Stranger things can happen, and there was rumor that the Invisibility Cloak, which he really needed to find out what happened to, was the real Invisibility Cloak of Death’s. The one told of in the Tale of The Three Brothers. So, there was a precedence, still…

“I hope you’re right,” Harry said, and they turned the topic to other things.

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The next day Vic went to the Prime Minister’s office for his appointment. He was shown in and took his normal seat. He looked at the harried man, who seemed more frazzled than usual. Selby Sorrel had been a good friend to him and Arcturus during these last five years and he really hoped he would stay in office a while longer. He really didn’t want to have to strike up a new relationship with a new Prime Minister. The next person might not be as amendable to him and his causes.

They might like Fudge better or hate wizards on the whole. Then there would be issues of a whole new variety. Well, he knew that the Queen was a good sort, and she still held sway over the wizarding world. If the new PM was a hater, then he still had her on his side.

That and he just like Sorrel as a person. He was a good sort. He would make sure to keep in touch with the man no matter what the outcome of the selection.

“It’s a selection year,” the man stated, informing him of what he already knew, looking up from what he was reading. His reading glasses were perched on his nose. “I have quite the contender this time,” he added, pushing aside some paperwork. He took his glasses off and looked around the room. “Where is Arcturus?” was his first question.

“He died in his sleep a week ago,” Vic said, sadly, his head bowed a bit. Even with the portrait, it was hard not having Arcturus around. He missed seeing the man at the table during meals, and not sitting next to him during this meeting. He could tell it was hard on Harry too, even with the portrait. There was no replacing turning and talking to someone when you needed them.

“I am very sad to hear that. He will be missed. Do you or Harry need anything?” Selby asked, leaning forward a bit, upset that his friend was no longer in the world. The old man had a great strategical mind. He would have given some great advice this coming year. “I am willing to see that you get any paperwork you need to have his death finalized in the real world,” he added.

“No, we’re good,” the other man said, giving Selby a nod. “Thanks for asking,” he added. “But, yes, we will need that paperwork,” he stated, knowing he could get Spike to do it, but Sorrel’s offer was just as good.

“When did he die? What hospital did you use? And what did he die of?” the man asked, taking up a pen to jot down the answers.

“He died last Friday, of old age. We used St. Mungo’s. I don’t think you can list that one,” Vic stated, his tone still laced with sadness.  

“I’ll figure it out. We’ve had to use it in the past,” Selby said, writing it down. He learned that recently through his dealings with his new underlings. He then buzzed for his magical secretary. He handed her the notes and told her what he wanted. She left to file the paperwork. He’d get a doctor he knew to sign off on it later.

“Thank you. I don’t know if we’ll ever need it, but it’s nice to have,” Vic said, gratitude in his tone.

“What else can I do for you today, Vic? I know you didn’t come to tell me about your uncle’s death,” Sorrel asked, not really wanting to deal with the magical world today. He had had a few interviews with Fudge recently as it was an election year for the magical world, though there didn’t seem to be anyone running against the other minister. He had to wonder about that. Did no one want the job, or was someone paying for Fudge to stay in office?

His spy network in the magical world was paying off. The young woman who they were training was a godsend. She was still in school, or rather she had just graduated, but she was giving them information on the workings of the school, and the kids. Who in turn gave them news on the parents. Gossip mostly, but it paid off in the end.

They learned who was taking bribes, and who was working for whom, and who was doing their jobs incorrectly. There were those that were just sliding by on their laurels and bragging about it to their kids. Those kids would tell their friends, and so on.

They had already caught a woman called Dolores Umbridge and had her arrested in the Queen’s Court for many charges. She would not see the light of day for many years. She was arrested for embezzling, murder, attempted murder, and bribes. She was stupid enough to tell people she was too powerful to be touched. She told the wrong person. Bam, she was caught with her hand in the biscuit jar, so to speak.

Thanks to the use of Veritaserum she sung like a bird and implicated many people with her. However, they didn’t have anything concrete. They could only watch those people and hope to catch them too. Malfoy was number one on their list.

“I need an affidavit that states that the Wizengamot can’t tell people where to educate their children. Dumbledore is still trying to get me to make Harry go to Hogwarts,” Vic said, bringing Sorrel back to the present and giving the man a consolatory look. He understood that it was a hard time for him. Getting the Queen and Parliament to see that he was still a good candidate was hard.  

He knew that there was no one running against Fudge because no one wanted the job. It was peace time in the wizarding world, and everything was going well right now. There was talk about Dumbledore being written in, but the man had declined once again. He, Vic, thought about running, but he didn’t want to bring that kind of attention to himself. He had enough to do with raising Harry.

“Why would they think they could dictate that anyway? Have they never heard of precedence?” the PM stated, searching his desk for the appropriate paper. He booted up his computer and started typing. He typed for a few minutes and loaded the correct paper in the printer and then printed the Affidavit and then signed it. He stamped it in all the right places and handed it to Vic stating, “There, give that to the Chief Warlock and tell him to quit trying to overstep his bounds.”

“Thanks, Selby,” Vic said, taking the document. “If you need a donation to your party’s campaign...” he added, knowing that politics were expensive.  He had no problem helping his friend.

“You’re not in my party, that would not be prudent,” Sorrel said, waving it away. There was no way he was going to mess up his campaign by taking money he couldn’t account for.

“Well, I am a businessman in the community,” Vic said, owning Grunning’s. He had bought it when Dursley had been arrested. He wanted to make sure the man didn’t get his job back, and that a full audit was done. “That and I do have my papers,” he added with a wink.

“There is that,” Sorrel said, nodding in his direction. “Very well,” he said, with a smile, and Vic took out his checkbook. A nice donation was made, and they talked of the selection for a while and Vic wished his party all the luck.

Soon enough Vic left and went home. Harry was busy with his tutors and Vic decided to do some work. It was just another normal day in the household, just one without Arcturus. That was taking some getting used to.

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A week later there was an emergency meeting of the Wizengamot. Dumbledore called it. Vic knew what it was for and was glad to get it over with. He would have called it himself, but he didn’t have that kind of power. Only the Chief Warlock, the Minister, or the Head of the DMLE can call an emergency meeting.

Everyone filed in and took their seats, grumbling about wasting time over something they were sure was trivial. The old man had been doing that a lot lately. They were sure it was one more attempt to get the Boy-Who-Lived into Hogwarts. Many of them were up in the air about it. For one, they wanted the boy there, but they didn’t want the old man to dictate where they sent their family.

“Come to order, everyone,” Dumbledore said, banging his gavel after the niceties had been observed. He was sure he had a foolproof scheme this time. If he included everyone, then they would see reason.

“Why are we here, Dumbledore?” Augusta Longbottom asked, standing, and being acknowledged. “This had better not be another attempt to get Harry Potter into Hogwarts,” she stated. “We have already voted no on that.” She was one of the many that were tired of the same old campaign.

There were many cries of “Hear, hear.”

“I would like to propose to this body that we have all of age wizards and witches be compelled into attending Hogwarts,” he stated, sitting to his full height. “This way there will be more children in the halls of the school and the numbers will be fuller for the first time since its conception. I am sure you understand that the school was designed to hold over five thousand children, we only hold two at this time,” he said, only to trail off when the mumbling got loud.

“You cannot,” Vic said, standing to be recognized. He pulled out his Affidavit and duplicated it many times. He then floated it to everyone in the Wizengamot, keeping the original. He made sure that Dumbledore got one too. “As you can see, you are denied by law to do anything of the sort,” he added, looking at the Minister.

“What is the meaning of this?” Fudge said, reading the document. “You went behind my back…” his face got so red it looked like he would die of a heart attack if he didn’t calm down within a few moments. Vic was actually concerned that the man would drop dead right there on the floor of the chambers.

“No, I went behind Dumbledore’s,” Potter said, waving the man off. “He has an unnatural obsession with Harry. I will not have my nephew forced to attend school where he doesn’t want to go,” he added, glaring at the old man, who glared back. “No one should be controlled in such a way,” he stated, looking around the room at the rest of the body and saw many nodding at his words.

“Is this binding?” one of the members asked, looking at Fudge. “Can this muggle do this? He has already caused so many changes,” the man whinged. There were others agreeing with him. They too didn’t like that the PM had such control over the laws they made.

“Yes,” the angry man in the green bowler growled. “The Prime Minister is the voice of the Queen. If he says we can’t force people to make the kids attend, then we cannot,” he stated, his voice one of hate and discontent. “You’ve seen the power he holds over us, how can you ask that?” he grumbled. He was upset that there was no one running against him this year. He had been hoping to finally get out of office. It wasn’t as fun as he thought it would be. Now that Malfoy and his ilk weren’t paying him to pass laws, he wasn’t rich, and he didn’t have the power that he used to have.  

He was still feeling the hurt over losing his undersecretary. Dolores had been a godsend, and to have it bandied about that she was such a criminal had hurt his standing. It had taken a lot of fancy footwork to keep his hands clean in that fiasco. She had kept meticulous notes though and nowhere was his name mentioned as a coconspirator. He had dodged the spell work on that one.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset anyway,” Vic said, looking around the room. “Why do you want Dumbledore to have a say what you do with your kids and grandkids? What if you have a reason, you don’t want your kids to attend that school? Albus holds too much power in my opinion as it is. Do you really want to give him more?” he asked, still holding the man in questions eyes.

Dumbledore was looking at him with a burning passion of hate. Not only was he undermining him, but he was preventing Harry Potter from coming to Hogwarts were he would be molded into the martyr that he needed to be to fulfil the prophecy. The wizarding world needed a hero, and Harry Potter was that hero. Vic Potter was preventing that from happening, and Albus Dumbledore would make that man rue the day he stopped it from coming about.

“What reason would we have? Hogwarts is the premier school in the world,” one person said. There were many voices of agreement heard as the room filled with noise.

“Who told you that?” Vic asked flabbergasted, cutting through the din. He took out some papers out of his briefcase that was on the floor at his feet. He had had these in his holding forever, just in case this topic came up. He copied them and floated them to everyone. “Hogwarts is 15 in a list of 25. It is falling every year. We are number one in Transfiguration, Charms, and Herbology. But we are dead last in Potions, History and Divination. Our DADA scores vary year to year.” He expanded his list to about ten feet high and five feet wide and pointed all this out with a large pointer stick that he conjured. “The rest of the classes fall in the middle. Accept Muggle Studies, which also falls dead last.”

There was a lot of grumbling and Dumbledore looked like he’d like the floor to open up and eat him. These were things that he had prevented the public from knowing. It was simple to do, all he had to do was let them believe that Hogwarts was the best school it was when he had taken over, oh so many years ago. What good did it do to let them know that he was ruining the careers of so many children? The British wizarding world was running just the way he liked it, so therefore it didn’t need to be changed just because a few toes got stepped on.

“Is this true, Dumbledore?” Fudge asked, looking at the large list floating above Potter. He was gobsmacked. He thought all was well at the school. Never would he have thought that they were so low on the list. He could have dealt with the top five, but fifteen and sinking each year? This was unacceptable.

“Well, the numbers can be misleading,” Albus prevaricated, not wanting to come out and say that it was completely true.

“You are avoiding the question,” Madam Marchbanks stated, knowing they were facts. She had been after the headmaster for years to get rid of the four teachers that were bringing down their scores.

“I am sure that if we bring the number of students up, then the numbers would improve,” Dumbledore stated. Trying once more to get back to why he called the meeting. Perhaps he could use this. These people were gullible enough to listen to him and his misleading words.   

“No, then your overworked teachers would perform even worse,” Vic said, pointing out that they were already understaffed. “You have a horrible teacher/student ratio. You should have a 16:1 ratio, you have 25:1 ratio, or more. That does not include flying class where you have more. Your teachers teach all grade levels when they should be restricted to three or four, like your elective classes. They should each have an assistant. You are overworking all of them, especially your Deputy Headmistress. She currently holds three titles. Shame on you, Headmaster,” he stated, harshly. “That doesn’t even address the four classes that are failing to teach the students even the rudimentary basics,” he finished with a flourish.  

“You cannot lay all the blame on me,” Dumbledore stated, getting huffy.

“You run the school,” Marchbanks snapped. “I have given you advice for years, you have ignored it. I know the Board of Governors has done the same. You have no one to blame but yourself,” she added, slamming down her cane in frustration.

“Now see here,” the old man said, looking around the room for support. “This is a government run school--” he started only to be cut off before he could make his point.

“We provide the money and approve scholarships,” Fudge said, reading through all the documents that Potter had provided him that day. “We don’t have anything to do with the day to day running of the school. Mostly because we have taken you on your word that nothing was wrong. However, I can see from these numbers that perhaps, maybe that might change. I propose that we meet with the Board of Governors and see what can be done about these numbers,” he said to the Wizengamot at large.

Everyone started talking to their neighbor, and generally making noise. Potter was discussing it with his Wizengamot neighbors, Greengrass and Nott. One was all for doing an audit, the other not so much. Vic felt it had something to do with Snape being one of the teachers being audited, but he brushed it off. One Death Eater sticking up for another was nothing in the greater scheme of things. He also knew that Nott would come around if only to save face.

Soon enough, it was put to a vote, and it was decided that a committee would get with the Board of Governors, and they would see about doing an audit of classes. Someone from the Ministry would be there as well. They wanted to see what their money was being spent on.

The proposed bill for having all of age children attending Hogwarts was binned for the trash it was.

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“So, how did it go?” Harry asked his uncle as they settled for afters. It was simply an apple crumble tonight. They were taking it in the study so they could talk with Arcturus.

“The Wizengamot is going to get with the Board, and they are going to audit the school,” Vic told him. He had already reported the whole meeting to the painting earlier this afternoon, so there was no need to rehash it.

“That’s good, right?” the preteen asked, taking a bite of his dessert.

“Yeah, that and it keeps Dumbledore busy for a while,” Vic said, that having been the goal from the start. “How did your day go?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Uncle Arcturus and I studied some Charms after my tutor left,” he said, smiling at the portrait. It had been fun to study with his older uncle. The man, even as a portrait, was witty and had a dry sense of humor. He seemed freer now that he was a painting. It was hard to explain. It was like he was less restrained.

“He seems to have an affinity for them,” Arcturus stated, looking at the dessert with something akin to want. He regretted not putting food in his portrait. He didn’t have tastebuds, so he wouldn’t enjoy food, but the act of eating might cut the boredom. He thought that adding the writing utensils and books would do, but really there wasn’t much to do now that he was dead. He did visit the other portraits, but they were dullards and only talked about their boredom too.

“I would have thought it would be Transfiguration like his father,” Vic said, rubbing his chin in thought.

“He does well there too, but he seems to take more after his mother in Charms,” the older man said, settling further in his chair. He tapped his ring on the arm in frustration. He really didn’t put enough to do in the painting. It was a good thing the two men like to keep him company. However, he could see why most portraits slept most of the time.

“It just comes easy to me,” Harry said, finishing his afters and pushing the plate away.

“You’re doing great in your studies. Your tutors have nothing but great things to say about you. Even your spy teachers say good things,” Vic said, also pushing his plate away. Both plates disappeared and were replaced with hot cocoa.

Harry beamed at the praise, and they talked of mundane things for a while and soon the preteen went to bed.

“What next?” Arcturus asked, hoping Vic had something else planned to keep Harry safe.

“For now, we’ll play it by ear,” the other man said, sighing and putting his cup on the table. “I’ve done all I can. Until I know who the new Prime Minister is, or if Selby is going to remain, I can’t do anything there. Nothing is changing on the political front in the wizarding world. Malfoy is being quiet. I’m still keeping an eye on him. I’m hoping for a few easy years,” he stated, leaning back in the chair, and closing his eyes.

“Don’t count on it,” Black said ominously.

“Don’t jinx me,” Potter said, scowling. He was still worried about that dream Harry had a week ago. It hadn’t been repeated, but Death was no laughing matter. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that it meant something.