Laments
Orford Umbridge sat at the Muggle bar, brooding about his job and his station in life. He was a maintenance worker at the Ministry of Magic – it was the best job he could get despite his Pureblood status. His NEWT and OWL scores did not afford him a better-paying position.
He scowled as he thought of the more talented and educated Muggleborns that worked at the Ministry. He knew that after the Grindelwald war, there had been a push to end the Pureblood hiring preferences at the Ministry. No one wanted to appear to support the policies and positions that the Dark wizard had been so in favor of.
He barely noticed that someone had sat down next to him. Suddenly, he heard a woman's voice. "You have a light?" He looked over and saw a younger woman sitting at the bar, holding an unlit cigarette.
"Pardon?" he asked.
The younger woman smiled coyly and said, "I was asking if you had a cigarette lighter, or possibly a match." She waved her cigarette.
"Oh. Right." He fished around in his pockets. He happened to carry matches just for this instance. Although he was a pureblood and held Muggles in contempt, he also knew that there were many Muggle women looking for a man. The war had depleted the supply, and he was perfectly willing to bed one for his own pleasure. He found his box and pulled it out. He struck one of the matches and held it to the woman's cigarette. "There you go, luv."
The woman nodded appreciatively. "Thank you. I'm Ellen. Ellen Cracknell. What's your name?"
"Orford Umbridge, at your service."
Over the next couple of months, Orford became much more involved with Ellen Cracknell. He knew he had no chance with one of the "better" purebloods, and so he resigned himself to marrying a Muggle in order to continue his line.
Within a year of being married, his first child was born. Dolores was named after her paternal grandmother. And within another year, Ellen was pregnant again. Orford was hoping for a son this time.
Orford once again sat within the Muggle pub that he always went to when he was feeling morose. Once again, he had been passed over for promotion and once again a muggleborn had gotten the job. He was a pureblood. He had a right to see advancement before such filth. As he drank more and more, his hatred went up and up.
Finally, it was closing time and he left. He thought about how he had been prevented from the better paying job. He had been forced to marry filth. He had very dark thoughts as he made his way out.
As he walked down the street toward a secluded spot nearby which he often used to apparate from, he saw two Muggle men walking along. They were singing in off-key tones and generally having a good time. He sneered as he looked at them. Muggle filth shouldn't be enjoying themselves. Muggle filth should cower before real men.
He took out his wand and cast a tripping jinx. One of the singing men fell down. His mate laughed at him. The downed filth also laughed, thinking it was his being in his cups that caused it. Orford sneered. The filth went right on enjoying himself. He would have to do something more obvious.
He thought about a spell he had heard about a while ago. It had been made illegal due to some half-blood or mudblood fools, he was certain. But he was a pureblood – and he had a right to do as he pleased. Mustering up his hatred, he cast his wand forward and called out, "Crucio!"
Several things happened quite quickly. The Muggle man he had cast the spell on (the one still standing) cried out in pain and fell down. His laughing mate looked on in suprise. And just as suddenly, the man stopped screaming as Orford Umbridge, Pureblood and Ministry worker, dropped due to a stunning spell from behind.
Harry Potter, Lone Traveler, wondered why he had appeared on some random Muggle street, in what appeared to be Jolly Old England. And from the appearance of the cars and other factors, it wasn't his time. Probably post-WWII considering the cars he saw on the road.
He decided he would sit back on a nearby bench and watch.
Soon, he saw the pub nearby emptying onto the street. He watched as a few got into cars – none looked particularly smashed. He then saw the smashed ones exiting and begin walking down the street – if that could be called walking. Two particular ones seemed to be more inclined to pass to and fro down the street than to make their way wherever they were going.
He then saw another one come out. This one looked particularly broody. He watched as the man made his way down the street. The man saw the two men who were laughing and talking loudly, smashed out of their minds.
The man discretely took out a wand and sent a spell. At this point, Harry stood up. Because the spell sent was so mild, Harry wasn't too worried. He had decided to intervene – but hopefully in such a way that didn't call attention from the Muggles.
That all changed when the next spell was sent. As soon as Harry heard "Crucio" his wand almost appeared in his hand and he was sending a stupify within an instant. The cruciatus curse had lasted only a split moment.
The drunk man who had just fallen was helped up by his mate. Both looked around and saw another man being helped up. Both decided that the man on the ground was also drunk and, feeling spooked (and one was feeling inexplicably jittery) they decided to moved off quickly. Harry just let them go. He then cast notice-me-not charms and waited.
He sighed when, after a few minutes, no one appeared. He had been hoping that the obliviators at least would have arrived. This meant it would take a bit of effort. He cast an incarcerous hex and then did a point-me spell. Knowing what direction the Ministry was and seeing what roads he was on, he cast his Patronus and, using it, sent a message requesting an Auror.
Within ten minutes, two Aurors appeared with a crack of apparition. Both looked around and Harry dropped the notice-me-not charm. Suddenly the Aurors' wands were pointing in his direction.
He rolled his eyes as he put away his wand. "This man cast a Crucio at a Muggle. I stopped him."
The Aurors came over and started asking questions. He explained why he hadn't stopped the Muggles. The Aurors agreed that it was likely for the best. One of the Aurors cast a portkey charm and Harry agreed to come with them to the DMLE office.
He knew it would be a long night.
Harry spent a good couple of hours at the Ministry being interviewed and dealing with the DMLE. When he gave his name as Harry Potter and a relative of the Potter family, the Auror interviewing him had only looked at him and the agreed that he looked like a Potter. Umbridge's wand was checked and, indeed, the last spell cast was a Crucio. It was a cut and dried case. Harry, with some curiosity, asked how the man's family would be notified. The Auror explained that they had already woke the man up and interviewed him. He was a Ministry worker who was dissatisfied and a closet supremacist. They were preparing to notify the man's Muggle wife.
Harry thought about it. "What will the man's family do?"
The Auror shrugged. "Not our problem. His actions will see him in Azkaban. He should have thought about his family before he acted. If necessary, we'll just obliviate the wife and the kids will just get notified like any other muggleborn does."
Harry was appalled. "May I accompany you to notify the wife? I'd like to see what I can do – she shouldn't be penalized because her husband was an arse."
The Auror shrugged again. "No skin off of my back."
The Auror, his partner, and Harry made their way to the Ministry's apparition points. One Auror asked on the way, "You know where we're going? You licensed to apparate?"
Harry smirked. "Oh, I was licensed when I was eighteen. I'm more than able to use coordinates."
The Aurors nodded. Harry entered the first point. The Aurors continued along. Instead of apparition, Harry used his own skills and arrived in a flash of blue light.
Within thirty seconds, two cracks were heard and Harry nodded at the two newly arrived Aurors. One looked at him and said, "How'd you do that? We didn't hear you apparate on the other side and you're already here, which means you left before us."
Harry shrugged. "I've always been very quiet." He glanced around. "No muggles in sight."
The two Aurors looked around and nodded. The group made their way up to the Umbridge home and knocked on the door.
The notification produced many tears and much worry on the part of Ellen Umbridge nee Cracknell. She related how her husband had been becoming more distant and disagreeable recently. She didn't fault the Aurors for arresting him – it likely saved her from having the man take it out on her. With her being pregnant, her child would have also suffered.
Harry considered plans. "Mrs. Umbridge?" Harry asked.
The teary-eyed woman looked at him. "Yes?"
"My family is fairly prominent in the Wizarding world. Would you be offended if I spoke to them on your behalf to see what they might be able to do for you? See if they could help you get a job or some such?"
The woman considered the man who had arrived with the magical bobbies. "Why? Why would you do this?"
Harry was solemn as he answered, "Because I don't think that a man's family should pay for his mistakes. I'd like to see your children raised in such a way that they will be a credit to you and not bitter due to someone else's bad choices. It's obvious that you're not of the same mind as your husband apparently is. Growing up in a non-magical home, I know how hard it was to learn everything and I'd like to see your children not disenfranchised. In the final analysis though, it's because I think it's the right thing to do. I won't make promises, but I think something can be done."
Ellen Umbridge looked at him and said, "Thank you. You're a good soul." Harry nodded in reply. The Aurors, who had watched all of this in apparent indifference, were the first to leave after ensuring that the woman knew she couldn't violate the Statute of Secrecy. Harry then left, telling her that he'd be contacting her as soon as he knew if any help was possible.
Harry made his way to the Leaky Cauldron. He had some work to do.
Charlus Potter was sitting morosely in his office. His wife, Dorea, had just again returned from St. Mungo's. Once again they had no clue as to why she seemed unable to get pregnant. The couple had been trying for several years to get an heir for the Potter family. Although he and his wife were only thirty years old, the Potter family was such a magnet for trouble that the family histories recommended creating an heir as soon as possible.
Charlus was only a bit startled when a pop was heard. He looked over and saw a new presence. "Yes, Jolly?"
The small creature now in his office replied, "Master Charlus! A Goblin-owl is in owlery with message for Master. The owl would not give message to Jolly."
Charlus stood and said, "Thank you, Jolly. Please ensure my wife has chamomile tea." Dorea always felt better after chamomile tea when she had bad news.
The house elf nodded vigorously. "Yes, Master Charlus!" The elf popped out. Charlus smiled as he thought of Jolly
The elf was a long-time resident of the Potter family home. His wife, Dorea, had immediately taken the elf's education in hand and worked to improve his English. Whatever else might be said about some families (and his wife's family was not particularly considered "Light" regardless of Dorea's tolerance), the Black family had well-educated elves.
Charlus entered the owlery and saw the owl that was reported. "Hello," Charlus said to the owl.
The owl stopped drinking from the water dish and looked at him. After a moment of watching him, the unfamiliar owl down over to the roost placed in the middle of the room. The owl stuck out its leg.
Charlus carefully removed the message and said, "Thank you." The owl hooted and then flew off.
Charlus walked back to the office and sat at his desk once again. He carefully broke the seal on the packet and pulled out its contents. He was very soon surprised.
Charlus Potter, Head of Clan Potter
Mr Potter;
As the manager of the Potter family accounts, it has fallen to me to inform you that a man has arrived at Gringotts claiming to be a Potter by blood. According to our policies, he has been tested and his claim validated.
As Potter Account Manager, I offered to set up a personal vault as delineated in the Potter-Gringotts contract as originally set forth A.D.14 October 837, Revised 16 June 1215.
However, Mr. Harry Potter, as he has proven himself to be, declined and requested 100 Galleons from the family vault and assistance in contacting the Head of Potter.
As the Potter family Contract allows withdrawals by family members up to a maximum of 250 G or per month or 1 percent of the vault's contents per annum (whichever is lesser) without the prior approval of the Head of the family, Gringotts has disbursed the 100 Galleons.
Mr. Harry Potter has a well-respected reputation within the Nation and therefore we have acquiesced to his request (pending the 2 Galleon fee for such assistance being paid, which Mr. Harry Potter has done).
Charlus was both amused and intrigued. How this random Potter had a good reputation and be unknown was the source of his intrigue. The fact that Gringotts did nothing for free no matter how much they respected you was the source of his amusement.
Enclosed you will find the message Mr. Harry Potter requested we forward.
Yours in business,
Slipknife, Potter Accounts Manager, Gringotts
Charlus' interest was piqued. He moved the top letter over and began reading the second letter. It was curious because it had a blocky look, typical of many muggleborn wizards who didn't practice with quills as children or weren't tutored by family.
Mr. Charles Potter, Potter Family Paterfamilias
Pater Charlus,
First, I will introduce myself. I am Harry James Potter, member of the Potter Family of Great Britain. As to my exact relationship with you and your wife, I will inform you upon our first formal meeting.
As reported by Gringotts (as I have requested that they do so), I have withdrawn 100 Galleons from the family vault as per the Gringotts agreement that our family operates under.
The majority of this sum will be used almost immediately to provide succor to innocents, disenfranchised by the nefarious actions of one of their family members. My conscience would not allow me to leave innocents to suffer because of the actions of those not so innocent. I would like to meet with you to ensure that my actions benefit the Potter family now and into the future.
Charlus smiled. Whoever this Harry Potter was, he seemed to hold the Potter family values to heart. The Potter family had a history of using their accumulated wealth both charitably and to plan far beyond the moment, beyond current political necessities. His family was very good at it too.
And so, as a member of the Potter family, I hereby request a meeting with the Potter Paterfamilias, and his wife, as regards the future. I may be found at the Leaky Cauldron, as I have taken a room there (Room 207). Should you agree to meet, I also beg that you disregard the non-formal attire that I traditionally present. Circumstances dictate my dress.
I await your reply.
Humbly, I am your servant,
Harry Potter, Scion of Potter, Scion of Peverell, Scion of Gryffindor
Charlus sat back and considered the letter. It was remarkably odd in a number of respects. The writer was aware of a number of Potter family secrets. None of these secrets was particularly odd for those raised properly as Potters – but they were unknown outside of the family.
This Potter seemed aware that the Potter family had a different contract than most families in Great Britain. While many contracts were revised almost totally or replaced after the Magna Carta was signed by King John or after the introduction of the Statute of Secrecy, the Potter family's contract was almost entirely the same as the original with only minor variations. The Potter family had always been even-handed with those they did business with and the Gringotts contract reflected that.
It was also NOT general knowledge that the Potter Family was descended from both Gryffindor and Peverell. That had been hidden for a number of very political reasons. Once again: Not entirely unknown – but not advertised.
He stood to go see his wife.
Dorea Potter nee Black was within her sitting room. The disappointing news from St. Mungo's had depressed her and she had retreated to spend some time alone, as was her habit. She loved her husband dearly and always appreciated when he was comforting, but when she was upset, she needed time alone.
She sipped the chamomile tea that Jolly had brought. She knew that Charlus had sent it, even though the elf had not said so. Her husband knew her so well.
She was just getting to the point that she was less sad. Suddenly, she heard a knock on her door. She smiled slightly as she called out, "Come in."
The door opened and her husband of eight years came in, somewhat hesitantly. She smiled. Charlus was so proper about not entering her private space without definitive permission.
"How are you doing, Luv?" Charlus asked.
She reached out her hand and pulled him down next to her. "I'm doing better. How are you?"
Charlus smiled at her. "I'm okay."
She reached up and caressed his face. "I'm glad."
"I've gotten an odd letter," Charlus said.
Dorea's face took on a look of curiosity. "Oh? From whom?" Charlus pulled the letters from his robe and handed it over.
Dorea read them over. It a way, it was almost a relief: There was another Potter. If she failed to provide an heir, the Potter family wouldn't die. She was also a bit sad: Some other woman might be able to do something she failed at and ensure the Potter family lived.
She did note that the request included her. That was decidedly odd: Most purebloods who requested meeting the Paterfamilias would not include such a request. That it was included was decidedly out of the ordinary.
She handed the two letters back. "Well, if he's family, we should invite him here. He has as much a right to come here as any other Potter. Write him immediately."
Charlus nodded.
Harry Potter was fairly cheerful as he walked in the Leaky Cauldron. He had just returned from visiting Ellen Umbridge and her daughter.
Mrs. Umbridge had been very appreciative that he had arrived with the promised aid. She was a housewife and was totally dependant on her husband's income – and there would be no more.
The 450 pounds he had delivered meant that she would have the resources to rearrange her life immediately. If Harry was unable to secure her a better circumstance, she could at least use the funds to arrange care for her child while she worked to find a job. Luckily the small house she lived in was paid for and not under a mortgage. Food was not that expensive if one properly shopped. 450 pounds would last a decent amount of time.
Her biggest worry was that she was in the early stages of a second pregnancy. She would have to ensure that there were funds available when she would be unable to work.
Harry had met the very young Dolores Umbridge. He was reminded, in that moment, that babies are a blank canvas. He could just imagine how having a closet supremacist as a father might change the happy baby he encountered into the vile caricature he himself had encountered as a teenager.
Harry resolved that he would do whatever he could to avoid that.
Harry sat at one of the tables and motioned to very-much-younger Tom. Tom had immediately recognized the passphrase when he had shown up the night before and Harry had been given a room.
After visiting Gringotts, Harry had tried to pay for his room – Tom had adamantly refused to accept. Harry had finally acquiesced.
Tom came over to the table. "Welcome back, Mr. Potter." Tom was very particular about proper addresses. "Refreshment or a late lunch?"
Harry smiled. "I was fed by the family I visited. How about just a butterbeer? And possibly a Daily Prophet if you have one laying about?"
Tom nodded. "Yeah. I'm done with mine, you can have it. Oh. I also have a letter for you."
Harry nodded. "Thanks, Tom."
Tom soon returned with the butterbeer, the Prophet, and the letter.
Harry carefully read the letter he had received back.
Harry Potter, Scion of Potter
It was a surprise to find that I have a family member I did not know about but I was happy to learn of you from your missive just received.
As Paterfamilias Potter, I was quite satisfied with your explanation for the withdrawal of funds from the family account. Innocents should be protected when possible and such a use of funds demonstrates that your values reflect those of our family.
As to your request for a meeting, I and my lovely wife, Dorea, shall receive you at 11:00 AM on 15 May if that is acceptable. We shall have Sunday brunch at that time and this letter is an invitation for that event. Should that time be inconvenient, please respond with a possible alternate.
I look forward to meeting with a newly-found Potter Scion, as does my wife.
Best Regards,
Charlus Potter, Paterfamilias Potter
P.S. Please note that I do not reject the other portions of your styling by not including them. Some information is closely held within our family and my leaving them off is a reflection of that family policy.
Harry nodded. He could imagine that the Peverell and Gryffindor names would incite attention from certain quarters and he could see why that might be avoided.
Harry was quite looking forward to the meeting.