Chapter 31: Changes
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Chapter 31: Changes
London, Ministry of Magic, June 28th, 1997
Horace Slughorn didn't have to fake his smile when he stepped out of the fireplace in the Atrium of the Ministry - he loved attending occasions such as this mixer, organised by the Minister himself. Cornelius might not be the most talented wizard or politician, but he knew how to socialise and network. Although not nearly as well as Horace himself, especially now that both the Dark Lord and Dumbledore were dead.
He nodded at the two Hit-Wizards standing guard at the Thief's Downfall installed nearby. "Good evening, Mr Perkins, Miss Smith."
"Good evening, sir." Miss Smith - Slytherin, finished Hogwarts in 1982 - smiled at him. He wouldn't have ordinarily remembered her name; despite her family name, she was neither particularly bright and talented nor well-connected. But she had been in her seventh year when Albus had forced Horace into retirement in 1982 in favour of his pet spy. Who had been killed by the Dark Lord, allowing Horace to return to Hogwarts as both Potions Master and Head of House.
Mr Perkins - Gryffindor, finished Hogwarts 1980 - nodded with less warmth. Horace had had great hopes for the boy - he had shown an impressive talent in Transfiguration - but the death of his brother had made him enter the Hit-Wizard force upon finishing Hogwarts, and he had apparently never managed to get over what he had seen in the last year of the war. Unfortunate, but not rare.
Horace put the two out of his mind as he walked towards the lift; he had far more important people to care about this evening.
Two minutes later, he arrived on the Minister's floor. He had timed his arrival well - he wasn't the first and wouldn't appear too eager, but he was far from the last; Cornelius wasn't yet too swamped by people currying his favour to greet Horace.
"Horace!"
"Cornelius!"
They shook hands vigorously. Or what Cornelius thought was vigorously.
"How are you doing? Relieved that the school year is over?" Cornelius smiled widely.
Horace nodded. "Indeed. I had to take over for Severus Snape, and sorting out the schedules and subjects…" He shook his head. "I'm glad I finally have the time to reorganise the syllabus for next year." He wasn't really lying - Snape had been a gifted potioneer, but as a teacher, he had been mediocre at best. The man had simply lacked any tolerance for less talented students.
"Ah, but you'll manage. And I dare say, Hogwarts can use your experience, what with Albus dead."
He caught Lucius Malfoy, who had been hanging back, using this to insert himself into their conversation. "I would have voted for you as the new Headmaster, had you had been nominated."
Horace smiled politely at the offer and at the reminder that he had not been nominated. "I think I was away from Hogwarts for too long, enjoying my retirement, to take on such a challenge. Minerva has my trust and full support." For now, of course.
Lucius nodded with a smile. "And who knows what the future will bring? McGonagall is a gifted Transfiguration teacher, but the post of Headmistress requires other skills."
Minerva had been the Deputy Headmistress for decades, Horace knew as well as Lucius, but that wasn't what the man was talking about. So Horace nodded with a smile. "How are things in the Wizengamot?"
Lucius sighed. "We're doing our best, but, alas, some people prefer to put their personal ambitions and interests above what's best for the country."
Such as Lucius himself, Horace knew. Fortunately, Cornelius cut in before he had to comment.
"Are you butting heads with Sirius again, Lucius?" The Minister shook his head. "What are his issues with your latest proposal?"
Lucius sneered. "He's still opposing a reasonable reduction in Aurors and Hit-Wizards, despite the money the Ministry could save."
Horace nodded, but he knew better than to get into politics. Especially when Blacks were involved. "Oh, is that Elphias?" he said, acting as if he hadn't spotted the old wizard minutes ago. "If you'll excuse me, I really must say hello to him; haven't seen him since Albus's funeral."
A few minutes, and some meaningless platitudes about how everyone was missing the man who had all but destroyed Horace's lifework for his pet spy, later, Horace was standing at the buffet sampling the wine. It was a good selection; bought from another member of the Slug Club, unless he was sorely mistaken, Charles Shacklebolt. Cousin to the Auror currently in the best spot to inherit Rufus's position, should there be a vacancy.
"Mister Slughorn."
Horace turned around, his polite smile growing marginally warmer when he recognised Deborah Greengrass née Rosier. "Madam Greengrass." She had been an altogether average witch at Hogwarts, not too closely related to the main branch of the family. The only thing she had had going for her had been her beauty; and she had made the best of it, marrying into the Greengrass family. As would have been expected of a Slytherin. Her daughters were cut from the same cloth, in Horace's opinion.
"I was hoping to meet you here," she said with a fake smile.
"Oh?" He had an inkling what this was about.
"Yes. Did you know that Mr Potter threatened my daughter at one of your parties?"
Of course he had; he'd be a poor host if he didn't pay attention to his guests. But he faked ignorance. "He threatened her?"
She nodded. "She was just being friendly when she saw that his date had left him, and he threatened her - over that muggleborn thief with whom his godfather is living. Imagine that!"
"I see." He nodded slowly. He had expected such a complaint.
She scoffed delicately. "As Daphne's Head of House, I hope you will take adequate action to set the boy straight. It's obvious that his godfather and that girl are a bad influence on him. Criminals, both of them! He should have been raised by an Old Family, not by… such a man." She could sneer almost as well as Lucius, Horace noted.
Horace smiled. "I had heard of that little incident." He inclined his head. "I think tempers ran a little high there; Harry is very protective of his family and friends. Something, I think, Sirius has taught him. Although I think we are fortunate that Sirius hasn't taught him the proper forms and ways; if he had thought your daughter had insulted him with her insinuation, that might have been grounds for a duel." Duels had been outlawed for over a century, but it was an open secret that some Old Families still arranged for a 'friendly spar' over some insults. The Blacks had been notorious for that, a few decades ago. Before the first war.
Greengrass paled.
"Fortunately," Horace continued, "Harry wouldn't blatantly break the law like that; he is set on becoming an Auror. A fitting career for the Vanquisher of Voldemort, wouldn't you agree?"
The witch nodded, albeit a little jerkily. Horace had to refrain from sighing. That some people seemed to have forgotten just what Harry had done not even six months ago…
"If you'll excuse me; I just saw someone I've wanted to meet for some time." He nodded at her; it was a slight, but he would be better off not antagonising the Boy-Who-Lived. The man who took down Voldemort, backed by the Black fortune, would be a formidable force in a few years.
Like Arthur's son, towards whom he was walking. Percival Weasley's career was, according to what Horace's friends had told him, back on track after that unfortunate affair a few years ago. Prefect, Head Boy and member of Albus's Order - if only Horace had been at Hogwarts during his years there. But, as with the other Weasleys, he had missed his chance there. If he had known just what kind of political mind Arthur had hidden behind his harmless facade, he would have certainly cultivated closer ties with the family.
"Mister Weasley!" He beamed at the young man, intent on correcting his past mistakes.
London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, July 1st, 1997
"Harry? Are you busy?"
Harry Potter closed his copy of the Auror handbook - reading about the procedures for requesting Hit-Wizard support for a raid wasn't very interesting - and looked at his godfather standing in the doorway. Sirius looked a little nervous, he thought but hid his frown. "No. What do you need?" There couldn't be any trouble related to the Elder Wand, could there?
Sirius took a step inside, closed the door and cleared his throat. "I need to discuss something with you. Something serious."
Harry clenched his teeth for a moment. Was this about him being a Parselmouth? He glanced at Mr Biggles, who was sleeping under the heater in his terrarium - Hermione's idea; he hadn't slipped out since they had installed that. Although enlarging the terrarium to the size of Harry's bed - with a lot more plants and a small tree to climb - had probably helped as well. He blinked and focused on the matter at hand. "Yes?"
Sirius took a deep breath, and his smile looked rather forced. Whatever this was, it was important, Harry thought. Had someone been hurt? Had Remus's curse turned out not to have been countered? Had…
"What do you think about getting a stepmother?"
Harry blinked.
"Because, you know, I think Jeanne is a very nice witch. Not just nice in that sense, but she's brave - would have been a Gryffindor if she had been a Hogwarts student - and smart, and she has a spine. I know she's a little young for me, at least from a muggle perspective, as Lily once told me, but I'm not really old either, and…"
Harry held up his hand. "Sirius?"
"Yes?"
"We've been expecting you two to announce your wedding or at least your official engagement for months now." Harry smirked, relieved.
"Oh."
Harry nodded. "Yes. If I had a problem with Jeanne, I would have said something months ago." There was no need to mention his fears and his talks with Hermione. Jeanne had proven herself. More than once.
"Ah." Sirius looked sheepish. "I'm glad to hear that. Although there are a few more things to consider. You see, marriage usually results in children."
"Yes?" Harry blinked again. "Is Jeanne pregnant?"
"What? No, no." Sirius frowned. "Did you expect me to get her pregnant, after everything I taught you about safe sex?"
Harry didn't want to answer that honestly, but judging by Sirius's frown, Harry's expression betrayed him anyway. His godfather huffed. "Really!" Then he laughed. "Anyway, no, she's not pregnant. But once she is, there's the matter of my heir."
"What about him or her?" Harry asked, then frowned. "Wait - do you think I'd be jealous of your and Jeanne's future child?"
"Well," Sirius said, looking embarrassed, "it's a possibility. You know I had a brother, and after I was cast out of the family, I certainly felt some jealousy towards him. And scorn, since Regulus was a Death Eater. Mostly scorn, of course. But I didn't like the thought of him inheriting the Black fortune."
Ah. "Well, I'm not jealous." He wasn't. Not really. He knew Sirius wouldn't brush him aside in favour of a baby. Not really. And by the time the baby would be born, Harry would be an adult already, and living his own life. Probably. And being jealous of a baby was very, very childish. At least that's what Hermione would tell him. "I know you're not…" He bit his lower lip before he finished with 'my real father'. That would be unkind. He started again, "I didn't expect to inherit anything from you." He had his own inheritance from his parents, anyway. It wasn't a fortune, but it would allow him to get a flat or house of his own, at least.
Sirius shook his head. "But you will. You're my godson. I won't neglect you, I promise you. And I still owe you twelve birthday presents," he added with a smile.
Harry thought about joking that there was a new broom on the market, supposedly better than a Firebolt, but if he did, Sirius would rush out and buy him one. "Thanks," he said instead.
They hugged each other. And Harry hoped Sirius wouldn't notice that he actually was jealous. Of Sirius and Jeanne.
London, Merton, July 2nd, 1997
Hermione Granger tensed up when she saw the owl landing on the window-sill. She knew that the exams she had taken didn't really count towards her future - unlike the N.E.W.T.s next year - and that she could use the next year to make up any deficiencies they might reveal, but she couldn't help feeling nervous anyway.
She checked for curses and other 'surprises', then took the envelope from the fidgeting owl. It had to be impatient. Or, she added to herself, spotting Crookshanks eyeing the bird with interest, it was wary of her cat. As any bird should be. She slipped it an owl treat, then gave Crookshanks a few cat treats so he wouldn't feel slighted and opened the letter.
Outstandings in Charms, Transfiguration, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. She sighed with relief. Mr Fletcher would have been very disappointed otherwise. As she would have been. Acceptable in Defence. She winced. She had sandbagged a little too much. She hoped Harry wouldn't inflict more training on her. Still an Exceeds Expectations in Potions. Acceptables in Care of Magical Creatures - she hadn't been as lucky with the test's subjects as in her O.W.L. exam - Herbology, and History of Magic. She hadn't taken Muggle Studies. Not after that farce of an exam for her O.W.L. She wouldn't study, much less write down, obvious falsehoods!
She sighed again.
"How did you do?" her mum asked.
Hermione handed her the letter. "About as well as on my O.W.L.s."
"But for Care of Magical Creatures," her mum corrected her.
"But my Arithmancy and Ancient Runes results are better." Not as close to Exceeds Expectations any more.
"Ah." Mum handed the letter to Dad, so he could stop craning his neck and trying to read it upside down.
"You did well there," he said after skimming it, "considering your situation."
She pursed her lips. Yes, considering her situation. "I expect to do better on the N.E.W.T.s themselves, with the distraction of the war gone."
Her parents nodded, smiling. They probably wouldn't smile if they knew what exactly she had been doing during the war.
"Speaking of which," Dad started, "have you given any thoughts to what you'll be doing after your N.E.W.T.s?"
She frowned. "I plan on continuing to work for Sirius." And starting her revenge as soon as Mr Fletcher deemed her ready.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"It's a good job." And a good cover. "It's interesting work. I can help shape the laws of Wizarding Britain."
"Yes," Mum said, "but… is it really a good idea to tie yourself so closely to Sirius? What if his own situation changes? You said he's about to marry his fiancée."
She frowned. "I doubt that things will change because of that. Jeanne's already living with him." And both Sirius and Jeanne knew and supported Hermione's plans for revenge.
Her parents glanced at each other. "If you're certain…" Dad said.
She nodded. Firmly. "Yes, I am." What was their problem?
"It's just... Paul seemed to have some issues with your work," Mum said.
"Or rather, your inability to tell him anything about your work," Dad clarified.
She frowned. "Did he come and talk to you while I was absent?" That would be going too far!
"No, no." Dad shook his head. "But we couldn't help noticing a certain tension during our last dinner together when that topic came up."
She didn't quite shrug. "That's to be expected. Many wizards and witches dating muggles are in a similar position."
"And how many of them manage to solve that?" Mum looked at her.
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. You're allowed to tell your husband once you're married. Such marriages aren't exactly rare, but I don't know how many relationships with muggles fail before marriage."
"Are you planning on marrying Paul?" Mum asked. She was staring at her, Hermione noticed.
"I'm not planning on marrying anyone," Hermione answered. "I'm seventeen." An adult under Wizarding Law.
"Ah." Dad smiled. "I should have known you weren't a love-struck girl dreaming of a wedding with her first love."
"A stack of books would hardly make for a good groom anyway," her mum added.
She glared at them both and pouted. But she also realised that she hadn't thought, nor dreamt, of marrying Paul. He was nice, funny when he wasn't being obnoxious about his movies, and handsome. And he turned her on when they were together.
But she hadn't been 'love-struck', as Dad called it. Not at all. Not once during their relationship.
London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, July 7th, 1997
"Ah, here it is!" Sirius said, holding up the latest Daily Prophet and pointing at an article on page five. Before Harry Potter could read even the headline, though, his godfather had turned it around again and started reading himself: "Engagements: Sirius Black, Head of the Black family, announced his engagement to Jeanne Selwyn, daughter of…" He looked up, frowning. "Jeanne Selwyn?"
"I double checked. The announcement we sent to the newspapers read 'Jeanne Dubois'," Hermione told him as she buttered her toast.
"I think my father 'corrected' that when they asked him for a comment," Jeanne said. She shook her head. "He does not seem to understand that such behaviour will not endear him to either of us."
"Or someone wants you to believe he did that," Hermione suggested.
"That would be incredibly petty," Sirius said, shaking his head.
"Skeeter is incredibly petty, in my experience," Hermione retorted.
"Skeeter would have tried to throw doubt on Jeanne's parentage and would have mentioned that her father ignored her until he lost his heir. She is petty, but not that subtle." Sirius shook his head. "No, I think this is my future father-in-law's ego speaking."
"I concur," Jeanne agreed.
"Great. This'll be a pleasant wedding." Harry sighed.
"Oh, compared to my parents, Jeanne's father's a very amicable fellow," Sirius said, grinning. "You wouldn't want to know what they would have told the Prophet."
"I can imagine," Harry said. He had heard enough stories about the portrait of Sirius's mother. Hermione nodded in agreement.
"Anyway, let's not get annoyed over this," Sirius said. "It won't change the fact that I'll be marrying the most beautiful witch in England next summer!" He wrapped his arm around Jeanne's shoulder and pulled her in for a kiss. A kiss that turned very French very quickly.
Harry sighed at the display - he didn't begrudge his godfather his happiness, but the breakfast table wasn't the right place to show such affection. He shook his head and leaned towards Hermione. "If I'd known they'd make out at the table, I'd have pretended to oppose the wedding," he whispered.
"Oh, shush!" she whispered back. "They love each other and shouldn't hide that."
There was some difference between not hiding your love and snogging at the table, Harry thought. But he didn't want to appear jealous - he was the only single person in the extended family right now - so he nodded and returned to his breakfast.
An hour later, Harry Potter was at his desk, studying the Aurors' rules for reporting incidents. And shaking his head - for a force meant to uphold law and order in Wizarding Britain, the Aurors probably spent more time fighting paperwork than anything else. And he was supposed to learn this.
He closed his eyes and tried to remember what he had just read. Date, time and location were easy - that was simply common sense. Everyone involved, split into Aurors, allies, suspects, victims and… He suppressed a curse and focused. He was an Occlumens - he could do this. Occlumency didn't grant a perfect memory, but if you knew your mind, you knew where to look for what you couldn't remember. In theory - Dumbledore had taught him, 'en passant', as Ron would say, that the human mind had a tendency to alter memories.
But then again, as an Occlumens, he was less susceptible to that. He focused and saw the page he had read before in his mind. "Aurors, allies, suspects, victims, persons of interest - witnesses, mainly - and anyone else," he said, smiling.
"Aurors, allies, suspects, victims, persons of interest?"
He jerked and muttered a curse under his breath as he turned. He hadn't noticed Hermione entering his room! Focusing on his memories, to the exclusion of everything else… Moody would tear him a new one if he ever heard of this. "Hermione?" he said out loud.
She snorted. "Yes, it's me. And you used to tease me about getting lost in books!" she added with a grin.
He sighed. "I'm studying." Then he winced and held up his hand. "No teasing about that, please."
"I would never!" she said, but her grin widened. Then she grew serious. "You're really determined to become an Auror, hm?"
He nodded. "You know, I hadn't been really serious. Not at the beginning. But now, with Dumbledore gone…" He sighed. "You know what Malfoy's doing. And his friends."
"What they are trying to do," she corrected him. "So far they haven't been too successful."
"That's not enough!" He saw her wince slightly at his vehemence. "Sorry."
She shook her head. "It's OK."
He cleared his throat. "Anyway, you know how the Ministry works - rich people are pretty much untouchable. If you want to bring someone like Malfoy to justice, you need the backing from someone rich and influential."
"Like Sirius," she said.
"Yes. But that's not a solution." Harry stood. "That's not how it's supposed to work." He shook his head. "We need to change that. And I think I can do it, with Sirius's help. As the Boy-Who-Lived, or the Vanquisher of Voldemort, I can do more than others. And as an Auror, I can do the most good. Clean up the Ministry. And ensure that the guilty are punished instead of the innocent. Unlike other Aurors, they won't be able to easily ignore me."
Hermione winced at hearing that, he noticed. Why would… of course! She didn't like being reminded of her expulsion. He sighed - once again, he had hurt a girl without meaning to.
London, Greenwich, July 8th, 1997
"What's bothering you?"
Hermione Granger looked up from her notes on the latest muggle locks. Mr Fletcher had lowered his newspaper and she could see his concerned expression. She considered lying - it was her private business, after all - but decided against it. "I asked Harry about his wish to become an Auror."
"Ah." He nodded. "And he was set on his course, contrary to your expectations?"
She frowned - was she so easy to read? "Yes."
"It's a simple deduction," he added. "If he hadn't been determined, you wouldn't be annoyed, but either happy or angry at Black for still not telling him."
"He wants to clean up the Ministry. Stop the corruption. Put an end to people escaping justice," she said, choosing not to comment on his analysis of her mood.
"And you're afraid he'll go after you."
"I'm not afraid," she said. Or lied - she didn't know herself. "But I would rather not find out if he values justices more than his family." Harry had sounded full of conviction and determination when he had talked to her.
"Well, as long as you don't get caught, there won't be a problem." He grinned. "Which means more training, and less worrying about your N.E.W.T.s."
She huffed - she could do both. "You also said to prepare for the worst." Azkaban.
Mr Fletcher tilted his head. "Which you did, didn't you?"
She sighed. "I could escape Azkaban as a cat." With some additional preparations to get off the island. "But that was when the Dementors guarded it."
He nodded. "Escaping won't be easy with the changes the Ministry has implemented."
"I almost wish they'd kept the Dementors. Or that Malfoy's attempt to reduce the number of Hit-Wizards would succeed," she said, scowling.
Mr Fletcher blinked. "I thought he was going after the Aurors."
"Sirius and Mr Weasley shot that proposal down. But if there are fewer Hit-Wizards, then Aurors might be called on to fill in for them," Hermione explained.
She saw him frown. "And uppity muggleborn Aurors, or Aurors who don't know when to drop an investigation, could be transferred to guard Azkaban."
"Exactly."
"Would Bones and Scrimgeour allow that?" He folded his newspaper and dropped it on the stack next to his seat. Hermione resisted the urge to straighten the stack with a quick spell.
"Bones, I don't think so - she lost family in the last war; she won't work with Malfoy and his cronies." According to Sirius. "Scrimgeour, though…" She sighed. "He's got a reputation as both honest and ambitious, but no one knows which of the two he'll sacrifice if he is forced to choose."
"Expect the worst, then."
"Yes." She nodded.
"What's Black doing about this?"
"Trying to back both of them. But Bones doesn't want to appear as one of his followers - or corrupt - and Scrimgeour doesn't want to commit himself." Which was a bad sign.
"Typical. Bones is too stubborn for her own good." He scoffed.
Hermione shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with having principles."
"Unless they're the wrong principles." He shook his head. "Bones's been in the DMLE for a long time, though. So she has to know how to deal with politics. At least enough to keep her job."
He didn't have to say out loud that Madam Bones would treat a group of thieves according to the law, no matter their motives and past deeds - Hermione knew that well enough. And she knew as well that if she didn't want to make Harry choose between protecting his family and friends and upholding the law, she couldn't get caught.
It would be so much easier if Harry were not so determined to reform Britain as an Auror.
London, Merton, July 10th, 1997
Hermione Granger clenched her teeth and once more pondered abandoning her plan. It was undignified. Inappropriate. Embarrassing. She didn't need to do this, either - she had done fine so far by herself. She was an adult in Wizarding Britain, and would soon be an adult according to British law as well. And adults didn't ask their parents for help with their love life.
But this was her first relationship, and she could really do with some mature advice. From someone other than Jeanne. So she took a deep breath and entered the living room, where her mum was reading.
"Mum?"
"Yes, Hermione?" Her mum didn't look up from her book. That didn't mean she wasn't paying attention - Hermione had found that out when she was still a little girl. But this was more important than a negotiation over her allowance as a five-year-old.
She cleared her throat. That made Mum look at her. "It's about Paul."
"Oh?" Mum put her book away. "What has he done?"
Hermione pursed her lips, "He hasn't done anything. It's me."
"What did you do?" her mum asked.
"I realised that I might not be in love with him. Not at all," Hermione said.
Her mum snorting wasn't the reaction she had expected. "It's your first relationship - as far as I know."
"That's true," Hermione said, a little indignantly - she wouldn't lie to her parents about that.
"So you lack any alternative points of reference."
Pointing out that she had read a number of books about this wouldn't help her, Hermione knew. "It's just… I like him. But I never dreamt of marrying him. And I never even considered sacrificing my plans for the future for him." Not that her mum knew what exactly those plans were.
"And you shouldn't!" Mum said, rather vehemently. "Your future is worth more than any romantic relationship."
Hermione didn't mention that she had considered - but decided against - abandoning her revenge, or at least postponing it for the foreseeable future, for Harry. They were talking about romantic relationships, not friendships. "I'm feeling a little guilty, though. As if I'm simply using him."
"Has he mentioned wanting to start living together? Or any plans like that?"
"No." Hermione shook her head.
"Then you certainly don't need to feel guilty for not thinking about it either. Just enjoy your relationship for what it is, and if it gets too much, break it off." She smiled. "Gabriel wasn't my first love either, you know. And I certainly didn't think about marrying anyone when I was a teenager."
That had been in the seventies, so Hermione was inclined to believe her.
"With the exception of Prince Charles, of course," her mum added with a smirk.
"What?" Hermione stared at her.
"Every girl in my class dreamed of becoming Queen at least once. We were in primary school."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You weren't seventeen then."
"But 'almost a teenager'." Mum grinned as she reminded Hermione of her attempt to get a later bedtime in primary school.
She tried to get their talk back on track. "So should I simply keep dating Paul, until I get fed up for whatever reason, and then break up?"
"Yes."
That sounded rather cold, Hermione thought. "Even if it hurts him?" She didn't want to act like Harry had when he broke up with Romilda.
"You'd hurt him and yourself far more if you stay together when you don't want to."
Maybe she should talk to Jeanne, Hermione thought as she nodded at her mum.
Devon, Ottery St Catchpole, July 31st, 1997
"I wish you a happy birthday, Mr Potter."
"Thank you, Mr Doge." Harry Potter replied.
"Please, call me Elphias."
"Elphias," Harry repeated with a nod and a smile that would hopefully look genuine. It wasn't the old wizard's fault that, this year, Harry's birthday party at The Burrow wasn't a gathering of friends, as it had been in the years before, but had been turned into a 'mixer' for mostly adults and old people.
"I was Albus's best friend, you know," Elphias said. He wasn't looking at Harry, or at anyone else, as far as Harry could tell. "We were in the same year and house at Hogwarts, and we planned to do the Grand Tour afterwards. Travel the world together. But then his sister was attacked…" He trailed off with a sigh. "I think Albus never really recovered from that. He changed. And even more so after his sister died."
Harry was glad he wasn't expected to smile any more. He already had heard this story from Dumbledore himself. But it would be rude to say so. So he listened to the story, nodding and acting as if he was paying rapt attention, until the man finished and moved away to find another victim.
He noticed Sirius walking towards him. "Smile, Harry!" his godfather said with a smile. "It's your birthday!"
Harry snorted. "Some birthday." He made a point of looking towards the Quidditch pitch, where most of his friends were flying.
Sirius looked puzzled. "Why don't you go and join them?"
"Because I'm being hounded by every old and influential wizard or witch you invited to my party," Harry spat out. "They all want to talk to the Boy-Who-Lived. Or the Vanquisher of Voldemort."
His godfather winced at hearing that, then cast a privacy spell. "I'm sorry about that, but we need more support in the Wizengamot and the Ministry if we want to counter Malfoy's plans."
"I know," Harry said. "And I understand it's necessary." But that didn't mean he had to like it. Or like his guests. At least he didn't have to feel guilty for making Mrs Weasley deal with this - Mr Weasley had helped organise it, with Sirius, so he was to blame for a small birthday party turning into the social event of the month.
"Welcome to politics, Harry." Sirius grinned. "Being friendly with people I don't particularly like is the part of my work that I can't drop on Hermione. And once you're working for the Ministry, you'll have to do this more often."
"Great. I can't wait to start," Harry muttered.
Sirius laughed. "Well, since you're so enthusiastic, how about I introduce you to Amelia Bones? She should get to know her future Head Auror, shouldn't she? And her niece is a looker."
Harry snorted, but his godfather had a point. Talking to Madam Bones would be interesting, provided he could avoid sounding like an idiot. And while he wouldn't normally have invited Susan Bones to his birthday party, the Hufflepuff seemed to be nice. He nodded. "Alright."
"Just don't break her niece's heart. That might harm your future career."
Harry glared at him. "You said that Bones is a witch who'd never abuse her position."
"That's true. But she can make you suffer just by being as strict as the regulations demand or allow."
Harry sighed. "I hope she doesn't have a crush on me."
"Why would you say that?"
"Because if she has a crush and I turn her down, she'll be hurt," Harry explained.
"So don't turn her down?" Sirius shrugged.
"And once we break up, she'll be hurt worse?" Harry snorted.
"That's really pessimistic." Sirius frowned. "With that attitude, any relationship is doomed from the start."
"I'm just being realistic," Harry retorted. After all, so far he hadn't managed to end any of his relationships on friendly terms. "Let's go."
Hermione Granger was almost pressing her chest into the shaft of her broom as she chased that thrice-damned Golden Snitch which had been taunting her for minutes now. It was flying low above the grass, trying to lure her into a collision with the ground. But she was too smart for that ploy - no mere bird would get the better of a cat.
Grinning fiercely, she kept her position behind and above the twittering prey. It would veer off any moment… now! The Snitch pulled to its right, and Hermione dived at it, hand stretching out to grab it.
At the last second, the Snitch dove down and to the left, and Hermione overshot it. Cursing the thing, she pulled up and banked left. That stupid imitation-bird wouldn't escape her again!
Alas, her prediction came true, but not in the way she had intended: Ginny had been sneaking up on the Snitch and snatched it just as it tried to gain some distance from Hermione.
"Ginny's got the Snitch! Team Weasley wins!" Hannah, who had volunteered to act as the referee together with Susan, announced as the Weasleys and the assorted other players they had shanghaied to fill their ranks celebrated their victory.
As she landed, Hermione told herself that she had held back anyway. At least a little. At the start. And it was mostly luck anyway, given how random the Snitch seemed to act. She still wanted to use a Reductor Curse on the Snitch, though.
"Well, you tried, but Ginny's a natural Seeker."
Hermione glared at Seamus. "I didn't want to be Seeker," she lied.
"You did better than expected," Ron cut in. "Not that you had much of a chance anyway, with the twins recruiting Alicia, Angelina and Katie."
"Which was rather unfair," Seamus said. "You get pros, and we get 'Team Potter without Potter'."
"No one knew that Harry wouldn't be able to play," Hermione said. Although she should have expected it - she had planned the party with Sirius, Mr Weasley and Percy, after all.
"No one agreed to mixing up the teams either when we knew Harry would rather talk to the high and mighty than play Quidditch," Seamus shot back.
Harry would rather have flown the whole day, Hermione knew. But saying that would run counter to the goal of this party. "They wanted to win. And to look good in front of Mr Farnespudding." Who was the owner of the Wimbourne Wasps, and might need a new Chaser this season.
"Beating us didn't exactly make them look good. We sucked worse than the Claws," Dean said.
"But Katie could show that she could keep up with Angelina and Alicia," Hermione pointed out.
"Yes," Katie said, smiling. "And I wanted to play with them again. I missed them last year."
"We all missed them," Seamus said, suddenly all smiles.
Hermione rolled her eyes - he was so predictable that she was tempted to steal his wallet again.
"I hoped Harry would play," Susan said. "But he's been talking to Auntie for what feels an hour," she added with a sigh and a pout that looked very much as if she had trained in front of a mirror, in Hermione's opinion. Someone had a crush, if Hermione wasn't completely mistaken.
Ron said: "He wants to become an Auror after Hogwarts, so he wanted to use the opportunity to ask her a few questions."
"Really?" Susan's face lit up. "He can come visit us any time!"
Hermione told herself that Susan would have heard that from her aunt anyway. But she still wanted to hex Ron. The last thing Harry needed was yet another relationship with a girl who had a crush on him.
When Susan and Hannah started to gush about the Boy-Who-Lived and Luna dragged Ron away to look at what she thought was a 'cross-pollinated pixie', whatever that was, Hermione excused herself and went to track down Sirius.
She found him at the buffet with Jeanne, behaving as if he were there simply to enjoy Mrs Weasley's cooking and not to keep an eye on Harry. Who was now talking to Scrimgeour. She took a small plate and put some roast beef and chips on it as she raised both eyebrows at Sirius.
"He's enjoying himself," Sirius said.
"I can see that. But how are we doing?" Hermione said. She smiled at him as if he were a random member of the Wizengamot, to drive the point home.
He winced, then smiled. "Well, everyone we invited attended. No one excused themselves. That's a good sign."
"Even my father is present," Jeanne added, nodding towards an older man talking with Slughorn.
"Now that was a miscalculation," Sirius grumbled sotto voce. "I thought he wouldn't visit the Weasleys."
Jeanne shook her head with a smirk. "And I told you that he can be very pragmatic when it furthers his interests. That's why he recognised me despite me being born a bastard."
"I believe the euphemism du jour is 'natural born'," Sirius said. "Damn hypocrite!"
"It's a good sign, though," Jeanne said.
Hermione shook her head slightly. "Your father might simply have realised that unless he disinherits you, which would ruin all his plans, he cannot distance himself from Sirius without ruining his position." Which Mr Selwyn should have anticipated. Unless he had had reason to expect Sirius's early death during the conflict with Voldemort.
"As I said, it's a good sign."
Jeanne's smile was all teeth.
"Is the coast clear?" Harry Potter asked as soon as his call to The Burrow had gone through.
"All the guests have left, yes," Ron answered him.
"Finally!" Harry didn't bother hiding his relief as he stepped out of the fireplace - only stumbling slightly, too! Not even the fact that Hermione entered The Burrow behind him as smoothly as if she were walking through the door could dampen his good mood.
"It wasn't that bad, was it?" Mrs Weasley asked, flicking her wand to cover the table in the living room with a fresh tablecloth.
"You invited Zacharias Smith, Mum," Ron said, shaking his head. "How that git was sorted into Hufflepuff I'll never understand. He's almost as arrogant as Malfoy!"
"He probably wasn't cunning enough for Slytherin," Ginny said. She put on a sneer and imitated the boy's nasal voice. "You know, Helga Hufflepuff was my ancestor, although I don't mention it so others don't feel inferior." She made retching noises.
"Ginny!" Mrs Weasley glared at her.
"What? He does sound like that!" the witch defended herself.
"Fortunately, he doesn't say 'Wait until I tell my Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandmother about this!" Harry said, laughing.
"I think you're missing about fifteen 'greats'," Hermione told him.
"Nineteen, actually - the Hufflepuffs were known for marrying and having children early," Luna corrected her.
Harry laughed again - he knew that Hermione would check that claim as soon as she could do so without being obvious about it.
"Isn't Sirius coming as well?" Mrs Weasley asked. "Or did something come up?"
"He's probably afraid we'll blame him for the torture we had to go through this afternoon," Harry said.
"'We'?" Hermione frowned at him. "As I recall you were the only one who was pestered by everyone."
"A sacrifice we'll remember!" Ron cut in.
That earned Ron a frown of his own. Hermione continued: "And as the one celebrating his birthday, such attention was to be expected, at least to some degree," she added, probably in response to the look Harry gave her.
"You would say that since I bet that you picked half the guests," Harry said.
"I merely made a few suggestions," she retorted with a grin. "It's all on Sirius's head."
"And Dad and Percy's," Ron added.
Harry shook his head. "I hope it was worth it."
"Oh, I think it was. A few appearances in the Wizengamot by the Vanquisher of Voldemort and Malfoy should be cut down to size. Once you get your Order of Merlin, you'll be a member as well."
"Malfoy'll be neutered," Ron said.
"No." Hermione shook her head. "Even if he wasn't going to get an Order of Merlin of his own, he's got several families backing him no matter what. It'll take more than a few defeats in the Wizengamot to remove him as a political force." She pursed her lips. "Especially as long as Fudge remains Minister, the man is simply too corrupt."
"If only he'd contract a gold allergy," Luna said. "But his bowler hat keeps the Niffler ghosts away."
Harry wasn't going to ask. And Ron would already know. Maybe…
"Niffler ghosts?" Ginny asked. "What are they?"
"The spirits of Nifflers who were used to find gold for their owners. Unable to satisfy their natural urges, but cruelly abused, forced to search for gold they couldn't keep, they linger after their death to punish the greedy. But they can be driven off by bowler hats since those remind them of the traps used to catch them." Luna sighed. "The poor dears suffer even after death."
"I haven't heard of any animal ghosts," Ginny said.
"Many cultures have tales of spirit animals," Hermione said, surprising Harry. "Those could be seen as ghosts."
"A Niffler spirit animal?" he asked.
She shrugged. "It could be possible."
Luna nodded. "We're going to try and use the greediest muggle we can find as bait, to see if we can catch a few Niffler ghosts. It's morally acceptable since muggle money is made from paper, so an allergy to gold won't harm muggles." She lowered her voice and leaned towards Hermione. "If you want, we can give them to you, and you can 'accidentally' knock off Fudge's hat before setting them loose in the Ministry."
"Thank you for the offer, Luna," Hermione said, "but I think we'll abstain from using such methods to deal with Fudge."
"Alright!" Luna nodded. She turned to Harry. "Did you invite Susan and Hannah for this party too?"
Harry shook his head. "No."
"Why not?"
He shrugged. "I don't know either of them well enough to invite them to my birthday party."
"Susan seems to want to change that," Ron said with a grin.
"And a party is a great way to get to know someone, Daddy always says," Luna added. "Especially if they drink too much."
Harry wasn't the only one who was staring at her. Did she just…
She blinked. "Didn't you know that drunk people often let slip things they wanted to keep secret?"
"Ah." Harry smiled. "I'm not planning to get the niece of the head of the DMLE drunk at a party." Especially not if she had a crush on him. He clapped. "Now, let's call the others and get this started."
It was time to have fun.
London, Ministry of Magic, August 8th, 1997
"...and in recognition of your personal bravery in this battle, and with great pride and pleasure, I hereby award you the Order of Merlin, First Class!"
Harry Potter smiled when the Minister finished his speech. To his surprise, Fudge hadn't rambled on but had delivered a short and quite succinct speech. He'd have to ask Sirius if he knew who had written it. And maybe ask if they could give Hermione a few pointers - his best female friend was one of the smartest people he knew, but writing speeches wasn't among her talents. Her drafts read as though they were meant to become a book.
He banished those whimsical thoughts as Fudge approached him, the cushion upon which the medal was resting floating at his side. It wouldn't do to giggle in the middle of the ceremony; Malfoy would use that to paint him as an immature teenager.
So he kept his expression serious as he lowered his head so Fudge could place the Order's ribbon around his neck. "Thank you, sir. I'm honoured."
Then he turned to the Wizengamot's seats and pulled out his notes for his own speech. "Honoured members of the Wizengamot! I am very proud to be here today, and to be elevated into the ranks of such a prestigious Order. I will do my utmost to do such an honour justice, and will strive to keep protecting our country against all enemies, both those from within and from abroad." He resisted the urge to glance at Malfoy, who was waiting for his own award, as he spoke those lines. "However, I feel that on this occasion, we should also honour and remember everyone else who fought Voldemort. Especially those who gave their lives in the battle." He hadn't wanted to use such a euphemism for 'getting brutally killed', but Sirius and Hermione had teamed up to convince him that he'd do better to follow the usual phrases in the Wizengamot. "They came from all stations of life, muggleborns, half-bloods and purebloods, gathered and led by Albus Dumbledore, united by their courage and determination not to let the Dark Lord enslave our country. I will wear this Order for them as well. I'm no Dumbledore myself, but I will do my best to follow in his footsteps. He had a vision for our country - a Wizarding Britain where everyone who could work magic, regardless of the circumstances of their birth, was treated equally. And I'll do my best to turn that vision into reality."
As expected, the applause was a little one-sided. Harry didn't mind.
An hour and Malfoy's own award ceremony later, Harry Potter was in the Atrium, trying not to be too obvious about checking the food that was being served for curses and poison.
"We're now officially colleagues!" Sirius told him. "You being not just an adult, but now also a member of the Wizengamot."
Harry snorted. "Non-hereditary." The Old Families wouldn't introduce any new ones, no matter how brave. Not even Dumbledore had been granted a hereditary seat. "And in three weeks, I'll be back at Hogwarts for my seventh year. No more politics for me!"
Sirius snorted. "You're allowed to attend the sessions, you know."
"Yes. You told me that yourself. But you don't need me for anything but the most important votes," Harry said. "I'd rather hex than talk to half the people here," he added, glaring at the group surrounding Malfoy.
"Consider it training for your future career as an Auror. You'll have to work with these people."
Harry clenched his teeth. That was something he wasn't looking forward to as an Auror. "Where's Hermione?"
"Off to powder her nose," Sirius said.
Before Harry could ask if Sirius was joking, he noticed Madam Umbridge walking towards them and barely kept himself from drawing his wand. That witch was among the worst in the Ministry.
She cleared her throat before smiling overly sweetly at them. "Good evening, Mr Potter. Mr Black. I would like to congratulate you."
"Thank you, Madam Umbridge." Harry's smile was as fake as hers. Sirius's looked more like a snarl.
But the witch wasn't so easily deterred. "I've heard you're planning to become an Auror after Hogwarts."
"That's true." It wasn't exactly a secret.
"Aren't you afraid that the demands of such a career will prevent you from fulfilling your duties as a member of the Wizengamot? The responsibility of such a position cannot be underestimated."
Harry kept himself from glaring at the witch. "No, I'm not afraid. I've had very good teachers." He nodded at Sirius. "Not just my godfather, but also Dumbledore himself. He did his best to teach me all I need to know." Not that the Headmaster had spoken much about politics, but she didn't need to know that.
She was all but glaring at him over her forced smile. "And have they prepared you as an Auror as well? Many who apply are rejected, and more are found wanting during the probationary period."
Harry laughed, then chuckled at her expression. "Mad-Eye Moody trained me too. I don't think I'll have any problems there."
"I see." Her smile had almost disappeared now.
Harry couldn't resist. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Did you think I was a mere pawn? Just a child who was acting as Dumbledore's figurehead? I was trained to face and fight Voldemort, Madam Umbridge." He pointed to the repaired lift to muggle London. "My best friend and I fought our way through half a dozen Death Eaters there. They didn't survive."
To her credit, she didn't flee right away. "Neither the Wizengamot nor the Ministry are places where you can fight your enemies like that, Mr Potter."
He snorted. "We fought Voldemort to ensure exactly that, Madam Umbridge. Something I hope my enemies won't forget."
As the witch finally retreated, Sirius chuckled. "And you claim that you don't have a talent for politics!"
Harry rolled his eyes and sighed. He was already sick of this - but someone had to stop Malfoy and his cronies from ruining the country. And, as the Boy-Who-Lived, he had both the power and the responsibility to do so.
London, Ministry of Magic, June 28th, 1997
Horace Slughorn didn't have to fake his smile when he stepped out of the fireplace in the Atrium of the Ministry - he loved attending occasions such as this mixer, organised by the Minister himself. Cornelius might not be the most talented wizard or politician, but he knew how to socialise and network. Although not nearly as well as Horace himself, especially now that both the Dark Lord and Dumbledore were dead.
He nodded at the two Hit-Wizards standing guard at the Thief's Downfall installed nearby. "Good evening, Mr Perkins, Miss Smith."
"Good evening, sir." Miss Smith - Slytherin, finished Hogwarts in 1982 - smiled at him. He wouldn't have ordinarily remembered her name; despite her family name, she was neither particularly bright and talented nor well-connected. But she had been in her seventh year when Albus had forced Horace into retirement in 1982 in favour of his pet spy. Who had been killed by the Dark Lord, allowing Horace to return to Hogwarts as both Potions Master and Head of House.
Mr Perkins - Gryffindor, finished Hogwarts 1980 - nodded with less warmth. Horace had had great hopes for the boy - he had shown an impressive talent in Transfiguration - but the death of his brother had made him enter the Hit-Wizard force upon finishing Hogwarts, and he had apparently never managed to get over what he had seen in the last year of the war. Unfortunate, but not rare.
Horace put the two out of his mind as he walked towards the lift; he had far more important people to care about this evening.
Two minutes later, he arrived on the Minister's floor. He had timed his arrival well - he wasn't the first and wouldn't appear too eager, but he was far from the last; Cornelius wasn't yet too swamped by people currying his favour to greet Horace.
"Horace!"
"Cornelius!"
They shook hands vigorously. Or what Cornelius thought was vigorously.
"How are you doing? Relieved that the school year is over?" Cornelius smiled widely.
Horace nodded. "Indeed. I had to take over for Severus Snape, and sorting out the schedules and subjects…" He shook his head. "I'm glad I finally have the time to reorganise the syllabus for next year." He wasn't really lying - Snape had been a gifted potioneer, but as a teacher, he had been mediocre at best. The man had simply lacked any tolerance for less talented students.
"Ah, but you'll manage. And I dare say, Hogwarts can use your experience, what with Albus dead."
He caught Lucius Malfoy, who had been hanging back, using this to insert himself into their conversation. "I would have voted for you as the new Headmaster, had you had been nominated."
Horace smiled politely at the offer and at the reminder that he had not been nominated. "I think I was away from Hogwarts for too long, enjoying my retirement, to take on such a challenge. Minerva has my trust and full support." For now, of course.
Lucius nodded with a smile. "And who knows what the future will bring? McGonagall is a gifted Transfiguration teacher, but the post of Headmistress requires other skills."
Minerva had been the Deputy Headmistress for decades, Horace knew as well as Lucius, but that wasn't what the man was talking about. So Horace nodded with a smile. "How are things in the Wizengamot?"
Lucius sighed. "We're doing our best, but, alas, some people prefer to put their personal ambitions and interests above what's best for the country."
Such as Lucius himself, Horace knew. Fortunately, Cornelius cut in before he had to comment.
"Are you butting heads with Sirius again, Lucius?" The Minister shook his head. "What are his issues with your latest proposal?"
Lucius sneered. "He's still opposing a reasonable reduction in Aurors and Hit-Wizards, despite the money the Ministry could save."
Horace nodded, but he knew better than to get into politics. Especially when Blacks were involved. "Oh, is that Elphias?" he said, acting as if he hadn't spotted the old wizard minutes ago. "If you'll excuse me, I really must say hello to him; haven't seen him since Albus's funeral."
A few minutes, and some meaningless platitudes about how everyone was missing the man who had all but destroyed Horace's lifework for his pet spy, later, Horace was standing at the buffet sampling the wine. It was a good selection; bought from another member of the Slug Club, unless he was sorely mistaken, Charles Shacklebolt. Cousin to the Auror currently in the best spot to inherit Rufus's position, should there be a vacancy.
"Mister Slughorn."
Horace turned around, his polite smile growing marginally warmer when he recognised Deborah Greengrass née Rosier. "Madam Greengrass." She had been an altogether average witch at Hogwarts, not too closely related to the main branch of the family. The only thing she had had going for her had been her beauty; and she had made the best of it, marrying into the Greengrass family. As would have been expected of a Slytherin. Her daughters were cut from the same cloth, in Horace's opinion.
"I was hoping to meet you here," she said with a fake smile.
"Oh?" He had an inkling what this was about.
"Yes. Did you know that Mr Potter threatened my daughter at one of your parties?"
Of course he had; he'd be a poor host if he didn't pay attention to his guests. But he faked ignorance. "He threatened her?"
She nodded. "She was just being friendly when she saw that his date had left him, and he threatened her - over that muggleborn thief with whom his godfather is living. Imagine that!"
"I see." He nodded slowly. He had expected such a complaint.
She scoffed delicately. "As Daphne's Head of House, I hope you will take adequate action to set the boy straight. It's obvious that his godfather and that girl are a bad influence on him. Criminals, both of them! He should have been raised by an Old Family, not by… such a man." She could sneer almost as well as Lucius, Horace noted.
Horace smiled. "I had heard of that little incident." He inclined his head. "I think tempers ran a little high there; Harry is very protective of his family and friends. Something, I think, Sirius has taught him. Although I think we are fortunate that Sirius hasn't taught him the proper forms and ways; if he had thought your daughter had insulted him with her insinuation, that might have been grounds for a duel." Duels had been outlawed for over a century, but it was an open secret that some Old Families still arranged for a 'friendly spar' over some insults. The Blacks had been notorious for that, a few decades ago. Before the first war.
Greengrass paled.
"Fortunately," Horace continued, "Harry wouldn't blatantly break the law like that; he is set on becoming an Auror. A fitting career for the Vanquisher of Voldemort, wouldn't you agree?"
The witch nodded, albeit a little jerkily. Horace had to refrain from sighing. That some people seemed to have forgotten just what Harry had done not even six months ago…
"If you'll excuse me; I just saw someone I've wanted to meet for some time." He nodded at her; it was a slight, but he would be better off not antagonising the Boy-Who-Lived. The man who took down Voldemort, backed by the Black fortune, would be a formidable force in a few years.
Like Arthur's son, towards whom he was walking. Percival Weasley's career was, according to what Horace's friends had told him, back on track after that unfortunate affair a few years ago. Prefect, Head Boy and member of Albus's Order - if only Horace had been at Hogwarts during his years there. But, as with the other Weasleys, he had missed his chance there. If he had known just what kind of political mind Arthur had hidden behind his harmless facade, he would have certainly cultivated closer ties with the family.
"Mister Weasley!" He beamed at the young man, intent on correcting his past mistakes.
*****
London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, July 1st, 1997
"Harry? Are you busy?"
Harry Potter closed his copy of the Auror handbook - reading about the procedures for requesting Hit-Wizard support for a raid wasn't very interesting - and looked at his godfather standing in the doorway. Sirius looked a little nervous, he thought but hid his frown. "No. What do you need?" There couldn't be any trouble related to the Elder Wand, could there?
Sirius took a step inside, closed the door and cleared his throat. "I need to discuss something with you. Something serious."
Harry clenched his teeth for a moment. Was this about him being a Parselmouth? He glanced at Mr Biggles, who was sleeping under the heater in his terrarium - Hermione's idea; he hadn't slipped out since they had installed that. Although enlarging the terrarium to the size of Harry's bed - with a lot more plants and a small tree to climb - had probably helped as well. He blinked and focused on the matter at hand. "Yes?"
Sirius took a deep breath, and his smile looked rather forced. Whatever this was, it was important, Harry thought. Had someone been hurt? Had Remus's curse turned out not to have been countered? Had…
"What do you think about getting a stepmother?"
Harry blinked.
"Because, you know, I think Jeanne is a very nice witch. Not just nice in that sense, but she's brave - would have been a Gryffindor if she had been a Hogwarts student - and smart, and she has a spine. I know she's a little young for me, at least from a muggle perspective, as Lily once told me, but I'm not really old either, and…"
Harry held up his hand. "Sirius?"
"Yes?"
"We've been expecting you two to announce your wedding or at least your official engagement for months now." Harry smirked, relieved.
"Oh."
Harry nodded. "Yes. If I had a problem with Jeanne, I would have said something months ago." There was no need to mention his fears and his talks with Hermione. Jeanne had proven herself. More than once.
"Ah." Sirius looked sheepish. "I'm glad to hear that. Although there are a few more things to consider. You see, marriage usually results in children."
"Yes?" Harry blinked again. "Is Jeanne pregnant?"
"What? No, no." Sirius frowned. "Did you expect me to get her pregnant, after everything I taught you about safe sex?"
Harry didn't want to answer that honestly, but judging by Sirius's frown, Harry's expression betrayed him anyway. His godfather huffed. "Really!" Then he laughed. "Anyway, no, she's not pregnant. But once she is, there's the matter of my heir."
"What about him or her?" Harry asked, then frowned. "Wait - do you think I'd be jealous of your and Jeanne's future child?"
"Well," Sirius said, looking embarrassed, "it's a possibility. You know I had a brother, and after I was cast out of the family, I certainly felt some jealousy towards him. And scorn, since Regulus was a Death Eater. Mostly scorn, of course. But I didn't like the thought of him inheriting the Black fortune."
Ah. "Well, I'm not jealous." He wasn't. Not really. He knew Sirius wouldn't brush him aside in favour of a baby. Not really. And by the time the baby would be born, Harry would be an adult already, and living his own life. Probably. And being jealous of a baby was very, very childish. At least that's what Hermione would tell him. "I know you're not…" He bit his lower lip before he finished with 'my real father'. That would be unkind. He started again, "I didn't expect to inherit anything from you." He had his own inheritance from his parents, anyway. It wasn't a fortune, but it would allow him to get a flat or house of his own, at least.
Sirius shook his head. "But you will. You're my godson. I won't neglect you, I promise you. And I still owe you twelve birthday presents," he added with a smile.
Harry thought about joking that there was a new broom on the market, supposedly better than a Firebolt, but if he did, Sirius would rush out and buy him one. "Thanks," he said instead.
They hugged each other. And Harry hoped Sirius wouldn't notice that he actually was jealous. Of Sirius and Jeanne.
*****
London, Merton, July 2nd, 1997
Hermione Granger tensed up when she saw the owl landing on the window-sill. She knew that the exams she had taken didn't really count towards her future - unlike the N.E.W.T.s next year - and that she could use the next year to make up any deficiencies they might reveal, but she couldn't help feeling nervous anyway.
She checked for curses and other 'surprises', then took the envelope from the fidgeting owl. It had to be impatient. Or, she added to herself, spotting Crookshanks eyeing the bird with interest, it was wary of her cat. As any bird should be. She slipped it an owl treat, then gave Crookshanks a few cat treats so he wouldn't feel slighted and opened the letter.
Outstandings in Charms, Transfiguration, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. She sighed with relief. Mr Fletcher would have been very disappointed otherwise. As she would have been. Acceptable in Defence. She winced. She had sandbagged a little too much. She hoped Harry wouldn't inflict more training on her. Still an Exceeds Expectations in Potions. Acceptables in Care of Magical Creatures - she hadn't been as lucky with the test's subjects as in her O.W.L. exam - Herbology, and History of Magic. She hadn't taken Muggle Studies. Not after that farce of an exam for her O.W.L. She wouldn't study, much less write down, obvious falsehoods!
She sighed again.
"How did you do?" her mum asked.
Hermione handed her the letter. "About as well as on my O.W.L.s."
"But for Care of Magical Creatures," her mum corrected her.
"But my Arithmancy and Ancient Runes results are better." Not as close to Exceeds Expectations any more.
"Ah." Mum handed the letter to Dad, so he could stop craning his neck and trying to read it upside down.
"You did well there," he said after skimming it, "considering your situation."
She pursed her lips. Yes, considering her situation. "I expect to do better on the N.E.W.T.s themselves, with the distraction of the war gone."
Her parents nodded, smiling. They probably wouldn't smile if they knew what exactly she had been doing during the war.
"Speaking of which," Dad started, "have you given any thoughts to what you'll be doing after your N.E.W.T.s?"
She frowned. "I plan on continuing to work for Sirius." And starting her revenge as soon as Mr Fletcher deemed her ready.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"It's a good job." And a good cover. "It's interesting work. I can help shape the laws of Wizarding Britain."
"Yes," Mum said, "but… is it really a good idea to tie yourself so closely to Sirius? What if his own situation changes? You said he's about to marry his fiancée."
She frowned. "I doubt that things will change because of that. Jeanne's already living with him." And both Sirius and Jeanne knew and supported Hermione's plans for revenge.
Her parents glanced at each other. "If you're certain…" Dad said.
She nodded. Firmly. "Yes, I am." What was their problem?
"It's just... Paul seemed to have some issues with your work," Mum said.
"Or rather, your inability to tell him anything about your work," Dad clarified.
She frowned. "Did he come and talk to you while I was absent?" That would be going too far!
"No, no." Dad shook his head. "But we couldn't help noticing a certain tension during our last dinner together when that topic came up."
She didn't quite shrug. "That's to be expected. Many wizards and witches dating muggles are in a similar position."
"And how many of them manage to solve that?" Mum looked at her.
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. You're allowed to tell your husband once you're married. Such marriages aren't exactly rare, but I don't know how many relationships with muggles fail before marriage."
"Are you planning on marrying Paul?" Mum asked. She was staring at her, Hermione noticed.
"I'm not planning on marrying anyone," Hermione answered. "I'm seventeen." An adult under Wizarding Law.
"Ah." Dad smiled. "I should have known you weren't a love-struck girl dreaming of a wedding with her first love."
"A stack of books would hardly make for a good groom anyway," her mum added.
She glared at them both and pouted. But she also realised that she hadn't thought, nor dreamt, of marrying Paul. He was nice, funny when he wasn't being obnoxious about his movies, and handsome. And he turned her on when they were together.
But she hadn't been 'love-struck', as Dad called it. Not at all. Not once during their relationship.
*****
London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, July 7th, 1997
"Ah, here it is!" Sirius said, holding up the latest Daily Prophet and pointing at an article on page five. Before Harry Potter could read even the headline, though, his godfather had turned it around again and started reading himself: "Engagements: Sirius Black, Head of the Black family, announced his engagement to Jeanne Selwyn, daughter of…" He looked up, frowning. "Jeanne Selwyn?"
"I double checked. The announcement we sent to the newspapers read 'Jeanne Dubois'," Hermione told him as she buttered her toast.
"I think my father 'corrected' that when they asked him for a comment," Jeanne said. She shook her head. "He does not seem to understand that such behaviour will not endear him to either of us."
"Or someone wants you to believe he did that," Hermione suggested.
"That would be incredibly petty," Sirius said, shaking his head.
"Skeeter is incredibly petty, in my experience," Hermione retorted.
"Skeeter would have tried to throw doubt on Jeanne's parentage and would have mentioned that her father ignored her until he lost his heir. She is petty, but not that subtle." Sirius shook his head. "No, I think this is my future father-in-law's ego speaking."
"I concur," Jeanne agreed.
"Great. This'll be a pleasant wedding." Harry sighed.
"Oh, compared to my parents, Jeanne's father's a very amicable fellow," Sirius said, grinning. "You wouldn't want to know what they would have told the Prophet."
"I can imagine," Harry said. He had heard enough stories about the portrait of Sirius's mother. Hermione nodded in agreement.
"Anyway, let's not get annoyed over this," Sirius said. "It won't change the fact that I'll be marrying the most beautiful witch in England next summer!" He wrapped his arm around Jeanne's shoulder and pulled her in for a kiss. A kiss that turned very French very quickly.
Harry sighed at the display - he didn't begrudge his godfather his happiness, but the breakfast table wasn't the right place to show such affection. He shook his head and leaned towards Hermione. "If I'd known they'd make out at the table, I'd have pretended to oppose the wedding," he whispered.
"Oh, shush!" she whispered back. "They love each other and shouldn't hide that."
There was some difference between not hiding your love and snogging at the table, Harry thought. But he didn't want to appear jealous - he was the only single person in the extended family right now - so he nodded and returned to his breakfast.
*****
An hour later, Harry Potter was at his desk, studying the Aurors' rules for reporting incidents. And shaking his head - for a force meant to uphold law and order in Wizarding Britain, the Aurors probably spent more time fighting paperwork than anything else. And he was supposed to learn this.
He closed his eyes and tried to remember what he had just read. Date, time and location were easy - that was simply common sense. Everyone involved, split into Aurors, allies, suspects, victims and… He suppressed a curse and focused. He was an Occlumens - he could do this. Occlumency didn't grant a perfect memory, but if you knew your mind, you knew where to look for what you couldn't remember. In theory - Dumbledore had taught him, 'en passant', as Ron would say, that the human mind had a tendency to alter memories.
But then again, as an Occlumens, he was less susceptible to that. He focused and saw the page he had read before in his mind. "Aurors, allies, suspects, victims, persons of interest - witnesses, mainly - and anyone else," he said, smiling.
"Aurors, allies, suspects, victims, persons of interest?"
He jerked and muttered a curse under his breath as he turned. He hadn't noticed Hermione entering his room! Focusing on his memories, to the exclusion of everything else… Moody would tear him a new one if he ever heard of this. "Hermione?" he said out loud.
She snorted. "Yes, it's me. And you used to tease me about getting lost in books!" she added with a grin.
He sighed. "I'm studying." Then he winced and held up his hand. "No teasing about that, please."
"I would never!" she said, but her grin widened. Then she grew serious. "You're really determined to become an Auror, hm?"
He nodded. "You know, I hadn't been really serious. Not at the beginning. But now, with Dumbledore gone…" He sighed. "You know what Malfoy's doing. And his friends."
"What they are trying to do," she corrected him. "So far they haven't been too successful."
"That's not enough!" He saw her wince slightly at his vehemence. "Sorry."
She shook her head. "It's OK."
He cleared his throat. "Anyway, you know how the Ministry works - rich people are pretty much untouchable. If you want to bring someone like Malfoy to justice, you need the backing from someone rich and influential."
"Like Sirius," she said.
"Yes. But that's not a solution." Harry stood. "That's not how it's supposed to work." He shook his head. "We need to change that. And I think I can do it, with Sirius's help. As the Boy-Who-Lived, or the Vanquisher of Voldemort, I can do more than others. And as an Auror, I can do the most good. Clean up the Ministry. And ensure that the guilty are punished instead of the innocent. Unlike other Aurors, they won't be able to easily ignore me."
Hermione winced at hearing that, he noticed. Why would… of course! She didn't like being reminded of her expulsion. He sighed - once again, he had hurt a girl without meaning to.
*****
London, Greenwich, July 8th, 1997
"What's bothering you?"
Hermione Granger looked up from her notes on the latest muggle locks. Mr Fletcher had lowered his newspaper and she could see his concerned expression. She considered lying - it was her private business, after all - but decided against it. "I asked Harry about his wish to become an Auror."
"Ah." He nodded. "And he was set on his course, contrary to your expectations?"
She frowned - was she so easy to read? "Yes."
"It's a simple deduction," he added. "If he hadn't been determined, you wouldn't be annoyed, but either happy or angry at Black for still not telling him."
"He wants to clean up the Ministry. Stop the corruption. Put an end to people escaping justice," she said, choosing not to comment on his analysis of her mood.
"And you're afraid he'll go after you."
"I'm not afraid," she said. Or lied - she didn't know herself. "But I would rather not find out if he values justices more than his family." Harry had sounded full of conviction and determination when he had talked to her.
"Well, as long as you don't get caught, there won't be a problem." He grinned. "Which means more training, and less worrying about your N.E.W.T.s."
She huffed - she could do both. "You also said to prepare for the worst." Azkaban.
Mr Fletcher tilted his head. "Which you did, didn't you?"
She sighed. "I could escape Azkaban as a cat." With some additional preparations to get off the island. "But that was when the Dementors guarded it."
He nodded. "Escaping won't be easy with the changes the Ministry has implemented."
"I almost wish they'd kept the Dementors. Or that Malfoy's attempt to reduce the number of Hit-Wizards would succeed," she said, scowling.
Mr Fletcher blinked. "I thought he was going after the Aurors."
"Sirius and Mr Weasley shot that proposal down. But if there are fewer Hit-Wizards, then Aurors might be called on to fill in for them," Hermione explained.
She saw him frown. "And uppity muggleborn Aurors, or Aurors who don't know when to drop an investigation, could be transferred to guard Azkaban."
"Exactly."
"Would Bones and Scrimgeour allow that?" He folded his newspaper and dropped it on the stack next to his seat. Hermione resisted the urge to straighten the stack with a quick spell.
"Bones, I don't think so - she lost family in the last war; she won't work with Malfoy and his cronies." According to Sirius. "Scrimgeour, though…" She sighed. "He's got a reputation as both honest and ambitious, but no one knows which of the two he'll sacrifice if he is forced to choose."
"Expect the worst, then."
"Yes." She nodded.
"What's Black doing about this?"
"Trying to back both of them. But Bones doesn't want to appear as one of his followers - or corrupt - and Scrimgeour doesn't want to commit himself." Which was a bad sign.
"Typical. Bones is too stubborn for her own good." He scoffed.
Hermione shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with having principles."
"Unless they're the wrong principles." He shook his head. "Bones's been in the DMLE for a long time, though. So she has to know how to deal with politics. At least enough to keep her job."
He didn't have to say out loud that Madam Bones would treat a group of thieves according to the law, no matter their motives and past deeds - Hermione knew that well enough. And she knew as well that if she didn't want to make Harry choose between protecting his family and friends and upholding the law, she couldn't get caught.
It would be so much easier if Harry were not so determined to reform Britain as an Auror.
*****
London, Merton, July 10th, 1997
Hermione Granger clenched her teeth and once more pondered abandoning her plan. It was undignified. Inappropriate. Embarrassing. She didn't need to do this, either - she had done fine so far by herself. She was an adult in Wizarding Britain, and would soon be an adult according to British law as well. And adults didn't ask their parents for help with their love life.
But this was her first relationship, and she could really do with some mature advice. From someone other than Jeanne. So she took a deep breath and entered the living room, where her mum was reading.
"Mum?"
"Yes, Hermione?" Her mum didn't look up from her book. That didn't mean she wasn't paying attention - Hermione had found that out when she was still a little girl. But this was more important than a negotiation over her allowance as a five-year-old.
She cleared her throat. That made Mum look at her. "It's about Paul."
"Oh?" Mum put her book away. "What has he done?"
Hermione pursed her lips, "He hasn't done anything. It's me."
"What did you do?" her mum asked.
"I realised that I might not be in love with him. Not at all," Hermione said.
Her mum snorting wasn't the reaction she had expected. "It's your first relationship - as far as I know."
"That's true," Hermione said, a little indignantly - she wouldn't lie to her parents about that.
"So you lack any alternative points of reference."
Pointing out that she had read a number of books about this wouldn't help her, Hermione knew. "It's just… I like him. But I never dreamt of marrying him. And I never even considered sacrificing my plans for the future for him." Not that her mum knew what exactly those plans were.
"And you shouldn't!" Mum said, rather vehemently. "Your future is worth more than any romantic relationship."
Hermione didn't mention that she had considered - but decided against - abandoning her revenge, or at least postponing it for the foreseeable future, for Harry. They were talking about romantic relationships, not friendships. "I'm feeling a little guilty, though. As if I'm simply using him."
"Has he mentioned wanting to start living together? Or any plans like that?"
"No." Hermione shook her head.
"Then you certainly don't need to feel guilty for not thinking about it either. Just enjoy your relationship for what it is, and if it gets too much, break it off." She smiled. "Gabriel wasn't my first love either, you know. And I certainly didn't think about marrying anyone when I was a teenager."
That had been in the seventies, so Hermione was inclined to believe her.
"With the exception of Prince Charles, of course," her mum added with a smirk.
"What?" Hermione stared at her.
"Every girl in my class dreamed of becoming Queen at least once. We were in primary school."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You weren't seventeen then."
"But 'almost a teenager'." Mum grinned as she reminded Hermione of her attempt to get a later bedtime in primary school.
She tried to get their talk back on track. "So should I simply keep dating Paul, until I get fed up for whatever reason, and then break up?"
"Yes."
That sounded rather cold, Hermione thought. "Even if it hurts him?" She didn't want to act like Harry had when he broke up with Romilda.
"You'd hurt him and yourself far more if you stay together when you don't want to."
Maybe she should talk to Jeanne, Hermione thought as she nodded at her mum.
*****
Devon, Ottery St Catchpole, July 31st, 1997
"I wish you a happy birthday, Mr Potter."
"Thank you, Mr Doge." Harry Potter replied.
"Please, call me Elphias."
"Elphias," Harry repeated with a nod and a smile that would hopefully look genuine. It wasn't the old wizard's fault that, this year, Harry's birthday party at The Burrow wasn't a gathering of friends, as it had been in the years before, but had been turned into a 'mixer' for mostly adults and old people.
"I was Albus's best friend, you know," Elphias said. He wasn't looking at Harry, or at anyone else, as far as Harry could tell. "We were in the same year and house at Hogwarts, and we planned to do the Grand Tour afterwards. Travel the world together. But then his sister was attacked…" He trailed off with a sigh. "I think Albus never really recovered from that. He changed. And even more so after his sister died."
Harry was glad he wasn't expected to smile any more. He already had heard this story from Dumbledore himself. But it would be rude to say so. So he listened to the story, nodding and acting as if he was paying rapt attention, until the man finished and moved away to find another victim.
He noticed Sirius walking towards him. "Smile, Harry!" his godfather said with a smile. "It's your birthday!"
Harry snorted. "Some birthday." He made a point of looking towards the Quidditch pitch, where most of his friends were flying.
Sirius looked puzzled. "Why don't you go and join them?"
"Because I'm being hounded by every old and influential wizard or witch you invited to my party," Harry spat out. "They all want to talk to the Boy-Who-Lived. Or the Vanquisher of Voldemort."
His godfather winced at hearing that, then cast a privacy spell. "I'm sorry about that, but we need more support in the Wizengamot and the Ministry if we want to counter Malfoy's plans."
"I know," Harry said. "And I understand it's necessary." But that didn't mean he had to like it. Or like his guests. At least he didn't have to feel guilty for making Mrs Weasley deal with this - Mr Weasley had helped organise it, with Sirius, so he was to blame for a small birthday party turning into the social event of the month.
"Welcome to politics, Harry." Sirius grinned. "Being friendly with people I don't particularly like is the part of my work that I can't drop on Hermione. And once you're working for the Ministry, you'll have to do this more often."
"Great. I can't wait to start," Harry muttered.
Sirius laughed. "Well, since you're so enthusiastic, how about I introduce you to Amelia Bones? She should get to know her future Head Auror, shouldn't she? And her niece is a looker."
Harry snorted, but his godfather had a point. Talking to Madam Bones would be interesting, provided he could avoid sounding like an idiot. And while he wouldn't normally have invited Susan Bones to his birthday party, the Hufflepuff seemed to be nice. He nodded. "Alright."
"Just don't break her niece's heart. That might harm your future career."
Harry glared at him. "You said that Bones is a witch who'd never abuse her position."
"That's true. But she can make you suffer just by being as strict as the regulations demand or allow."
Harry sighed. "I hope she doesn't have a crush on me."
"Why would you say that?"
"Because if she has a crush and I turn her down, she'll be hurt," Harry explained.
"So don't turn her down?" Sirius shrugged.
"And once we break up, she'll be hurt worse?" Harry snorted.
"That's really pessimistic." Sirius frowned. "With that attitude, any relationship is doomed from the start."
"I'm just being realistic," Harry retorted. After all, so far he hadn't managed to end any of his relationships on friendly terms. "Let's go."
*****
Hermione Granger was almost pressing her chest into the shaft of her broom as she chased that thrice-damned Golden Snitch which had been taunting her for minutes now. It was flying low above the grass, trying to lure her into a collision with the ground. But she was too smart for that ploy - no mere bird would get the better of a cat.
Grinning fiercely, she kept her position behind and above the twittering prey. It would veer off any moment… now! The Snitch pulled to its right, and Hermione dived at it, hand stretching out to grab it.
At the last second, the Snitch dove down and to the left, and Hermione overshot it. Cursing the thing, she pulled up and banked left. That stupid imitation-bird wouldn't escape her again!
Alas, her prediction came true, but not in the way she had intended: Ginny had been sneaking up on the Snitch and snatched it just as it tried to gain some distance from Hermione.
"Ginny's got the Snitch! Team Weasley wins!" Hannah, who had volunteered to act as the referee together with Susan, announced as the Weasleys and the assorted other players they had shanghaied to fill their ranks celebrated their victory.
As she landed, Hermione told herself that she had held back anyway. At least a little. At the start. And it was mostly luck anyway, given how random the Snitch seemed to act. She still wanted to use a Reductor Curse on the Snitch, though.
"Well, you tried, but Ginny's a natural Seeker."
Hermione glared at Seamus. "I didn't want to be Seeker," she lied.
"You did better than expected," Ron cut in. "Not that you had much of a chance anyway, with the twins recruiting Alicia, Angelina and Katie."
"Which was rather unfair," Seamus said. "You get pros, and we get 'Team Potter without Potter'."
"No one knew that Harry wouldn't be able to play," Hermione said. Although she should have expected it - she had planned the party with Sirius, Mr Weasley and Percy, after all.
"No one agreed to mixing up the teams either when we knew Harry would rather talk to the high and mighty than play Quidditch," Seamus shot back.
Harry would rather have flown the whole day, Hermione knew. But saying that would run counter to the goal of this party. "They wanted to win. And to look good in front of Mr Farnespudding." Who was the owner of the Wimbourne Wasps, and might need a new Chaser this season.
"Beating us didn't exactly make them look good. We sucked worse than the Claws," Dean said.
"But Katie could show that she could keep up with Angelina and Alicia," Hermione pointed out.
"Yes," Katie said, smiling. "And I wanted to play with them again. I missed them last year."
"We all missed them," Seamus said, suddenly all smiles.
Hermione rolled her eyes - he was so predictable that she was tempted to steal his wallet again.
"I hoped Harry would play," Susan said. "But he's been talking to Auntie for what feels an hour," she added with a sigh and a pout that looked very much as if she had trained in front of a mirror, in Hermione's opinion. Someone had a crush, if Hermione wasn't completely mistaken.
Ron said: "He wants to become an Auror after Hogwarts, so he wanted to use the opportunity to ask her a few questions."
"Really?" Susan's face lit up. "He can come visit us any time!"
Hermione told herself that Susan would have heard that from her aunt anyway. But she still wanted to hex Ron. The last thing Harry needed was yet another relationship with a girl who had a crush on him.
When Susan and Hannah started to gush about the Boy-Who-Lived and Luna dragged Ron away to look at what she thought was a 'cross-pollinated pixie', whatever that was, Hermione excused herself and went to track down Sirius.
She found him at the buffet with Jeanne, behaving as if he were there simply to enjoy Mrs Weasley's cooking and not to keep an eye on Harry. Who was now talking to Scrimgeour. She took a small plate and put some roast beef and chips on it as she raised both eyebrows at Sirius.
"He's enjoying himself," Sirius said.
"I can see that. But how are we doing?" Hermione said. She smiled at him as if he were a random member of the Wizengamot, to drive the point home.
He winced, then smiled. "Well, everyone we invited attended. No one excused themselves. That's a good sign."
"Even my father is present," Jeanne added, nodding towards an older man talking with Slughorn.
"Now that was a miscalculation," Sirius grumbled sotto voce. "I thought he wouldn't visit the Weasleys."
Jeanne shook her head with a smirk. "And I told you that he can be very pragmatic when it furthers his interests. That's why he recognised me despite me being born a bastard."
"I believe the euphemism du jour is 'natural born'," Sirius said. "Damn hypocrite!"
"It's a good sign, though," Jeanne said.
Hermione shook her head slightly. "Your father might simply have realised that unless he disinherits you, which would ruin all his plans, he cannot distance himself from Sirius without ruining his position." Which Mr Selwyn should have anticipated. Unless he had had reason to expect Sirius's early death during the conflict with Voldemort.
"As I said, it's a good sign."
Jeanne's smile was all teeth.
*****
"Is the coast clear?" Harry Potter asked as soon as his call to The Burrow had gone through.
"All the guests have left, yes," Ron answered him.
"Finally!" Harry didn't bother hiding his relief as he stepped out of the fireplace - only stumbling slightly, too! Not even the fact that Hermione entered The Burrow behind him as smoothly as if she were walking through the door could dampen his good mood.
"It wasn't that bad, was it?" Mrs Weasley asked, flicking her wand to cover the table in the living room with a fresh tablecloth.
"You invited Zacharias Smith, Mum," Ron said, shaking his head. "How that git was sorted into Hufflepuff I'll never understand. He's almost as arrogant as Malfoy!"
"He probably wasn't cunning enough for Slytherin," Ginny said. She put on a sneer and imitated the boy's nasal voice. "You know, Helga Hufflepuff was my ancestor, although I don't mention it so others don't feel inferior." She made retching noises.
"Ginny!" Mrs Weasley glared at her.
"What? He does sound like that!" the witch defended herself.
"Fortunately, he doesn't say 'Wait until I tell my Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandmother about this!" Harry said, laughing.
"I think you're missing about fifteen 'greats'," Hermione told him.
"Nineteen, actually - the Hufflepuffs were known for marrying and having children early," Luna corrected her.
Harry laughed again - he knew that Hermione would check that claim as soon as she could do so without being obvious about it.
"Isn't Sirius coming as well?" Mrs Weasley asked. "Or did something come up?"
"He's probably afraid we'll blame him for the torture we had to go through this afternoon," Harry said.
"'We'?" Hermione frowned at him. "As I recall you were the only one who was pestered by everyone."
"A sacrifice we'll remember!" Ron cut in.
That earned Ron a frown of his own. Hermione continued: "And as the one celebrating his birthday, such attention was to be expected, at least to some degree," she added, probably in response to the look Harry gave her.
"You would say that since I bet that you picked half the guests," Harry said.
"I merely made a few suggestions," she retorted with a grin. "It's all on Sirius's head."
"And Dad and Percy's," Ron added.
Harry shook his head. "I hope it was worth it."
"Oh, I think it was. A few appearances in the Wizengamot by the Vanquisher of Voldemort and Malfoy should be cut down to size. Once you get your Order of Merlin, you'll be a member as well."
"Malfoy'll be neutered," Ron said.
"No." Hermione shook her head. "Even if he wasn't going to get an Order of Merlin of his own, he's got several families backing him no matter what. It'll take more than a few defeats in the Wizengamot to remove him as a political force." She pursed her lips. "Especially as long as Fudge remains Minister, the man is simply too corrupt."
"If only he'd contract a gold allergy," Luna said. "But his bowler hat keeps the Niffler ghosts away."
Harry wasn't going to ask. And Ron would already know. Maybe…
"Niffler ghosts?" Ginny asked. "What are they?"
"The spirits of Nifflers who were used to find gold for their owners. Unable to satisfy their natural urges, but cruelly abused, forced to search for gold they couldn't keep, they linger after their death to punish the greedy. But they can be driven off by bowler hats since those remind them of the traps used to catch them." Luna sighed. "The poor dears suffer even after death."
"I haven't heard of any animal ghosts," Ginny said.
"Many cultures have tales of spirit animals," Hermione said, surprising Harry. "Those could be seen as ghosts."
"A Niffler spirit animal?" he asked.
She shrugged. "It could be possible."
Luna nodded. "We're going to try and use the greediest muggle we can find as bait, to see if we can catch a few Niffler ghosts. It's morally acceptable since muggle money is made from paper, so an allergy to gold won't harm muggles." She lowered her voice and leaned towards Hermione. "If you want, we can give them to you, and you can 'accidentally' knock off Fudge's hat before setting them loose in the Ministry."
"Thank you for the offer, Luna," Hermione said, "but I think we'll abstain from using such methods to deal with Fudge."
"Alright!" Luna nodded. She turned to Harry. "Did you invite Susan and Hannah for this party too?"
Harry shook his head. "No."
"Why not?"
He shrugged. "I don't know either of them well enough to invite them to my birthday party."
"Susan seems to want to change that," Ron said with a grin.
"And a party is a great way to get to know someone, Daddy always says," Luna added. "Especially if they drink too much."
Harry wasn't the only one who was staring at her. Did she just…
She blinked. "Didn't you know that drunk people often let slip things they wanted to keep secret?"
"Ah." Harry smiled. "I'm not planning to get the niece of the head of the DMLE drunk at a party." Especially not if she had a crush on him. He clapped. "Now, let's call the others and get this started."
It was time to have fun.
*****
London, Ministry of Magic, August 8th, 1997
"...and in recognition of your personal bravery in this battle, and with great pride and pleasure, I hereby award you the Order of Merlin, First Class!"
Harry Potter smiled when the Minister finished his speech. To his surprise, Fudge hadn't rambled on but had delivered a short and quite succinct speech. He'd have to ask Sirius if he knew who had written it. And maybe ask if they could give Hermione a few pointers - his best female friend was one of the smartest people he knew, but writing speeches wasn't among her talents. Her drafts read as though they were meant to become a book.
He banished those whimsical thoughts as Fudge approached him, the cushion upon which the medal was resting floating at his side. It wouldn't do to giggle in the middle of the ceremony; Malfoy would use that to paint him as an immature teenager.
So he kept his expression serious as he lowered his head so Fudge could place the Order's ribbon around his neck. "Thank you, sir. I'm honoured."
Then he turned to the Wizengamot's seats and pulled out his notes for his own speech. "Honoured members of the Wizengamot! I am very proud to be here today, and to be elevated into the ranks of such a prestigious Order. I will do my utmost to do such an honour justice, and will strive to keep protecting our country against all enemies, both those from within and from abroad." He resisted the urge to glance at Malfoy, who was waiting for his own award, as he spoke those lines. "However, I feel that on this occasion, we should also honour and remember everyone else who fought Voldemort. Especially those who gave their lives in the battle." He hadn't wanted to use such a euphemism for 'getting brutally killed', but Sirius and Hermione had teamed up to convince him that he'd do better to follow the usual phrases in the Wizengamot. "They came from all stations of life, muggleborns, half-bloods and purebloods, gathered and led by Albus Dumbledore, united by their courage and determination not to let the Dark Lord enslave our country. I will wear this Order for them as well. I'm no Dumbledore myself, but I will do my best to follow in his footsteps. He had a vision for our country - a Wizarding Britain where everyone who could work magic, regardless of the circumstances of their birth, was treated equally. And I'll do my best to turn that vision into reality."
As expected, the applause was a little one-sided. Harry didn't mind.
*****
An hour and Malfoy's own award ceremony later, Harry Potter was in the Atrium, trying not to be too obvious about checking the food that was being served for curses and poison.
"We're now officially colleagues!" Sirius told him. "You being not just an adult, but now also a member of the Wizengamot."
Harry snorted. "Non-hereditary." The Old Families wouldn't introduce any new ones, no matter how brave. Not even Dumbledore had been granted a hereditary seat. "And in three weeks, I'll be back at Hogwarts for my seventh year. No more politics for me!"
Sirius snorted. "You're allowed to attend the sessions, you know."
"Yes. You told me that yourself. But you don't need me for anything but the most important votes," Harry said. "I'd rather hex than talk to half the people here," he added, glaring at the group surrounding Malfoy.
"Consider it training for your future career as an Auror. You'll have to work with these people."
Harry clenched his teeth. That was something he wasn't looking forward to as an Auror. "Where's Hermione?"
"Off to powder her nose," Sirius said.
Before Harry could ask if Sirius was joking, he noticed Madam Umbridge walking towards them and barely kept himself from drawing his wand. That witch was among the worst in the Ministry.
She cleared her throat before smiling overly sweetly at them. "Good evening, Mr Potter. Mr Black. I would like to congratulate you."
"Thank you, Madam Umbridge." Harry's smile was as fake as hers. Sirius's looked more like a snarl.
But the witch wasn't so easily deterred. "I've heard you're planning to become an Auror after Hogwarts."
"That's true." It wasn't exactly a secret.
"Aren't you afraid that the demands of such a career will prevent you from fulfilling your duties as a member of the Wizengamot? The responsibility of such a position cannot be underestimated."
Harry kept himself from glaring at the witch. "No, I'm not afraid. I've had very good teachers." He nodded at Sirius. "Not just my godfather, but also Dumbledore himself. He did his best to teach me all I need to know." Not that the Headmaster had spoken much about politics, but she didn't need to know that.
She was all but glaring at him over her forced smile. "And have they prepared you as an Auror as well? Many who apply are rejected, and more are found wanting during the probationary period."
Harry laughed, then chuckled at her expression. "Mad-Eye Moody trained me too. I don't think I'll have any problems there."
"I see." Her smile had almost disappeared now.
Harry couldn't resist. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Did you think I was a mere pawn? Just a child who was acting as Dumbledore's figurehead? I was trained to face and fight Voldemort, Madam Umbridge." He pointed to the repaired lift to muggle London. "My best friend and I fought our way through half a dozen Death Eaters there. They didn't survive."
To her credit, she didn't flee right away. "Neither the Wizengamot nor the Ministry are places where you can fight your enemies like that, Mr Potter."
He snorted. "We fought Voldemort to ensure exactly that, Madam Umbridge. Something I hope my enemies won't forget."
As the witch finally retreated, Sirius chuckled. "And you claim that you don't have a talent for politics!"
Harry rolled his eyes and sighed. He was already sick of this - but someone had to stop Malfoy and his cronies from ruining the country. And, as the Boy-Who-Lived, he had both the power and the responsibility to do so.
*****