A Trial Overcome
A/N
Another one for you :)
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There's a permanent link to my discord on my profile and links to everything else.
Podcast number seven with Zaxaramas was posted yesterday and there's lots of stuff being posted over, (Currently five a week minimum).
Anyway, enjoy,
TBR
It was evening when he reached Grimmauld Place. His conversation with Ollivander and the loss of his wand as he'd known it had compelled him to seek some personal solace away from everyone. He needed time to ponder this latest loss, time to familiarise himself with his somewhat new wand, and time to accept that the final vestige of Tom that he carried was gone.
It had been an odd afternoon, his emotions ranging between hurt when his wand now responded better than it ever had, and a strange relief that settled over him. It was as though he was breathing on his own volition for the first time, walking without a crutch to steady him should he stumble and thinking clearly without the intrusion of a voice that questioned his every decision.
As terrifying as the prospect was, it liberated him. Without Tom, all of him, he felt freer than he ever had, felt that he could grow into whatever he wanted to be.
A part of him felt guilty for such thoughts. Tom had helped him when no other had, had guided and taught him more than any ever could and had ultimately shaped him into what he was.
He shook his head of the thoughts. Tom would be proud of him; of that he had no doubt.
Entering the Black family home, he was surprised to see that it no longer resembled a hovel that had been left to rot. Evidently, his godfather had been busy in his absence.
Where a layer of dust and grime had adorned the fixings and house-elf heads lining the walls, had been cleaned and the hallway now resembled something of the stately home it once was.
He approached the kitchen only to find the door closed and a series of powerful charms having been cast around it. Frowning, he drew his wand, but his attention was caught by a whistle coming from above him. Looking up, he saw four redheads peering down at him, all of whom he recognised.
"You can't get in there, they're having a meeting," one of the twins whispered.
"A meeting?"
"The Order of the Phoenix. A group of people that are fighting against You-Know-Who," Ron answered. "We've tried to listen in, but they found out. We can't even get near the door without them knowing now."
Harry shook his head.
"Why are you here?"
"Our parents are in the order," the other twin replied. "They don't trust us enough to leave us at home."
Harry snorted.
From the chaos he had seen courtesy of the twins, he wouldn't trust them alone either. It would be only a matter of time before something were to go amiss.
"How long do they meet for?"
"Depends," Ron answered with a shrug. "They've only been in there for ten minutes, so you'll be waiting a while."
He cursed under his breath as he aimed his wand at the door. He had no intention of waiting for an inordinate amount of time. He had other things he needed to attend to whilst he was here.
"Bloody hell," one of twins exclaimed as an unpleasant screeching filled the hallway followed by a sharp crack as the spells around the door collapsed.
"YOU DARE DEFILE THE HOUSE OF BLACK WITH YOUR FILTHY BLOOD?" the portrait of Walburga Black shrieked.
"Shut up, you old bat," Harry replied, flicking his wand and silencing the abhorrent woman.
She continued to mouth her profanities at him as he closed the curtains around her, fighting the desire set the portrait ablaze.
"Bitch," he grumbled as he turned to be faced by several people staring at him from the kitchen door with their wands drawn.
"Ah, Harry, I see you received my missive," Dumbledore greeted, eying him speculatively.
"Well, when I'm accused of casting magic somewhere I haven't been for three years, it does raise a lot of questions," he replied irritably.
"Indeed. We shall discuss that shortly, however, I must ask that you wait until our meeting is concluded. I shall not keep you long."
The door closed once more, and Harry shook his head as he ascended the stairs. If he had to wait, he would do something productive with the time.
"You'll be in trouble for using magic outside of school," Ron said knowingly.
"And how will they know it is me?"
The redhead frowned as he looked towards his older brothers questioningly.
"The trace?"
Harry shrugged.
"I've been using magic every summer since I started Hogwarts. I've never been caught, not until someone else used it near my relative's home."
Ron's eyes widened as the twins sported matching, mischievous grins.
"Well, George, it seems that we have been lied to and we only find this out now that we have come of age."
"Tis a disgrace," George agreed. "No matter. We have work to be getting on with. Shall we?"
"We shall," the other replied. "It was nice seeing you, Harry. Come along, Ronald. Do you not have a mountain of homework to finish?"
The younger sibling groaned as he followed reluctantly leaving Harry with the only female of the many Weasley children. He had not spoken to her since the night he had helped retrieve her from the chamber, but she appeared to be doing well considering she had been possessed by an unpleasant soul shard.
"I-I never got the chance to thank you for what you did," she said shyly.
He waved the girl off. He didn't do what he had for plaudits.
"How are you doing?" he asked politely.
"Much better. I'm still seeing the mind-healer, but the bad dreams have stopped."
Harry knew how much dreams could haunt someone. He too had spent years dreaming of the unpleasant things that had befallen him when he was but a babe.
"I'm pleased to hear it," he offered. "If you'll excuse me, I have a few things to do."
She nodded and allowed him to pass.
Having had to take down more charms around the door to the library, he entered and checked that no one was lurking amongst the stacks.
"Kreacher?" he called.
With a crack, the aged elf appeared and offered a mocking bow as he glared maliciously at him.
"The half-blood calls for Kreacher?"
Harry ignored the barb as he looked upon the pitiful elf. Without preamble, he decided to get down to business, should Dumbledore decide to intrude upon him.
"Master Regulus betrayed the Dark Lord. Was he successful in retrieving the locket you helped hide?"
The elf's eyes widened in fear.
Tom had been forthcoming about where the horcruxes had been hidden, however, he had never investigated Regulus's deception after he killed the traitor. The elf would have the information he was missing. If Regulus had managed to get it, he would know.
"M-master Regulus did."
"Did he destroy it?"
The elf shook his head as he pulled his ears.
"He c-couldn't and Kreacher couldn't either," the elf choked.
"Do you still have it?"
The elf nodded reluctantly.
"They tried to take it but Kreacher took it back."
A wave of relief flooded throughout him. With the locket away from its protections, it could have been anywhere, and he did not relish the task of searching for it. He shuddered at the thought of the dozens of inferi in the cave.
"If you hand it to me, I will ensure that it is destroyed," he offered.
Kreacher eyed him sceptically.
"Why would you do this?"
"Because I want the same thing that Master Regulus wanted. I want him gone, Kreacher."
The elf stared at him for a moment, pondering his words before he nodded, his ears flapping almost comically.
"Kreacher will give it to you, for Master Regulus."
With a crack, the elf disappeared and reappeared a moment later clutching an ornate, golden locket adorned with a snake shaped by emeralds. Hesitantly, Kreacher relinquished it to Harry who shuddered at the touch.
The magic he felt was familiar, a magic he had carried with him up until recently, though this offered no comfort. It was cold and menacing whereas Tom had been different, though it was undoubtedly a part of him that resided within.
"I will destroy it," he promised once more before casting a series of charms to keep the unpleasant magic at bay.
"Thank you, half-blood. Master Regulus can rest easy when it is done."
With what Harry assumed was a smile, Kreacher vanished once more, the burden he carried no longer upon him.
He pocketed the necklace as the door opened and Dumbledore entered.
"I suppose I will have to put the defences back on this door," he muttered amusedly. "Ah, Harry, if you would kindly join us, we are ready for you now."
With a shrug, he followed the headmaster through the house and into the kitchen where an assortment of witches and wizards were waiting for him, most of whom were unfamiliar.
He recognised Professors McGonagall and Snape, the former greeting him with a warm smile. He, of course, knew Sirius, Remus and Moody and had even come across the dark-skinned auror with them.
The Weasley parents were also present with another redhead that could only be one of their older children, but the others, he had never seen.
"Where have you been, Potter?" Moody growled irritably.
Harry frowned at the man, irked by the insistence in his tone.
"I don't believe that is your concern, Professor," he returned, emphasising his title.
"It is when there are aurors supposedly keeping an eye on you and you're not where you're supposed to be."
"And at what point did I ask for aurors to be watching over me?" he bit back.
Himself and Sebastien had suspected that the home of the Dursleys was being watched but he had no proof until now.
"You guard is there to keep you safe. How can we do that when you're not there?" Moody returned.
Harry chuckled darkly.
"I have not lived there since the end of my first year because it wasn't safe for me," he bit back. "Funny how you are so concerned now when not a single one of you were when I was growing up"
"Had I known what your life was like, I would have intervened," Dumbledore broke in.
"Well, you didn't. It was down to me to handle them, so with all due respect, I don't trust anyone to look out for me."
Dumbledore sighed, not having expected such hostility.
"How did you come to learn that you are a wizard, Harry. I have seen the memory of what you did to them."
"They deserved more than that," Harry growled. "I found out because I dreamt of what happened to my parents. I somehow managed to turn one of my teacher's hair blue, I even apparated when I was seven. Oh, and it doesn't help that I had people like him," he added pointing to a familiar man, "bowing at me in the streets and thanking me for getting rid of Voldemort."
The man looked sheepish as those in the room turned to him.
"That still does not explain how it is you found Diagon Alley at that age."
"And you won't get an explanation. My secrets are my own. I don't suppose you're going to share everything that you were speaking about before I came in?"
When he got no response, he shrugged.
"I believe we should move on," Dumbledore declared. "I had assumed that you were frequenting Diagon Alley this summer, but you have been unreachable. It was not until Fawkes was sent that I was able to deliver your missive."
"I was at home, somewhere very far from here," he answered. "I can't be reached by owls and won't be able to by Fawkes when I return. There is no reason that I should be disturbed by anyone when I am not at school."
"And what if he comes for you? How will we help?" Mrs Weasley asked.
"I don't want your help. No offense, but most of you don't look like you're up to much. Do any of you really want to fight him?"
None volunteered to do so, and he sighed.
"Chances are, he will find me one day and I'm fine with that. What I'm not fine with is people sticking their noses into my life when it is not wanted, so, with the best of intentions, piss off and leave me alone."
Sirius snorted.
"I told you he wouldn't be happy."
"It is about keeping Harry safe, Sirius," Dumbledore replied.
"Bloody hell look at him. I've never seen him healthier or happier. For the love of Merlin, he's spent his whole life looking after himself. As I've said several times, he doesn't need you lot on his case. After what I saw him do that night, he doesn't need protecting, he needs his space."
Harry offered his godfather a grateful nod. At least someone was showing a modicum of understanding.
"Perhaps we should discuss the events that has led to your summoning tomorrow," Dumbledore suggested, having evidently tired of discussing what they currently were.
"I'd like to know who the hell cast a patronus near the house and why?" Harry questioned.
"That would be me," the young female auror answered. "Two Dementors arrived there and I thought you were in trouble."
"So, who is behind that?"
"It is yet to be established," Dumbledore sighed. "From what we have gathered from our own intelligence, the Dementors are still very much under employ of the ministry, though it is possible some have gone rogue and joined the Dark Lord."
"Great. What do I do about tomorrow?"
"Cornelius will seek to have you punished as much as the law will allow. I imagine he shall attempt to have you expelled, but he will likely fail. It is a first offense, after all."
"So, it is him seeking petty revenge for me saying Voldemort's back?"
"No," Dumbledore disagreed. "He is simply trying to smear your reputation, likely under the instruction of Lucius. I myself have had my character defamed throughout the summer. Worry not, Harry, the Daily Prophet has made no mention of you."
"They won't," he replied confidently. "I have enough on them to keep them quiet."
"Which I believe is the reason someone went to much effort to ensure something negative could be attributed to you. Without the ability to implicate you in the unpleasantness of the newspaper, someone took drastic action."
"That could have gotten me killed," Harry pointed out.
"Indeed," Dumbledore concurred with a frown. "What is important is that tomorrow is dealt with in the correct manner. I will attend the meeting with you to ensure nothing underhand is attempted."
Harry was not comfortable with the thought. Dumbledore had given him no reason to distrust him so, but he felt that it was something he should deal with personally. If he was expected to deal with Voldemort, he should be able to handle a trivial meeting such as this.
"All will be well, Harry," the headmaster offered with a smile.
Harry merely nodded as he looked towards the clock.
"Your room is ready for you," Sirius said, seeing that Harry was keen to take his leave.
"is there anything else?"
"Only this," Professor McGonagall answered, offering a thick envelope to him. "Details of your upcoming school year. I tried to send them last week, but the owl was returned."
He took the parchment from the woman and gave her a grateful smile.
"Everything you will need is listed in there, Potter. I am expecting exemplary work and dedication from you, as is Filius."
He nodded his understanding before he turned to leave the room.
"Kingsley and Tonks will escort you to the Ministry in the morning, Harry and I will meet you there," Dumbledore explained, gesturing to the two aurors.
He shrugged as he exited, his irritation with the group irking him further. Instead of heading to his room, he entered the library once more.
He didn't think Dumbledore would allow him to be expelled, but he did not want to take his chances. There were books in the library on wizarding law and it certainly wouldn't hurt to arm himself with at least a basic knowledge of what he faced. It was what Tom would have him do.
The books he needed were tucked away in one of the corners of the vast library. He had been here only once when he had been perusing but saw no need to explore the area any further at the time. No, however, he had that need.
It was when he was thumbing through a volume on the misuse of magic that he was interrupted by the clearing of a throat.
"Having legal issues, boy?"
He looked up to be met with the steely, grey eyes of an old man who was staring at him from within a portrait above the bookshelf. He had taken note of him on his previous visit, but he had been unmoving at the time.
"Something like that."
The man hummed as he eyed him speculatively.
"It's really off-putting with you staring at me."
"I was simply wondering who you are," the man replied, unfazed by the glare he was receiving. "You're not one of my grandchildren, so you must be one of theirs."
"No, I'm not a Black."
"Then who the hell are you? What the fuck are you doing in our library?"
He was taken aback by the brash response and crude language.
"I'm Harry Potter. Sirius is my godfather."
"Sirius? That useless shit is still alive?"
"As far as I know, he's the only one left of your lot," Harry explained.
The man deflated in his portrait.
"I did not suspect it would go well, not with the bloody Dark Lord those idiots decided to follow. Tell me, what happened to my granddaughters?"
"Granddaughters?"
"Bellatrix and Narcissa. I know Andromeda fled and married a mudblood. What of the others?"
"Narcissa is married to Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix is in Azkaban."
"Fucking hell," the man grumbled, shaking his head. "Did you say you were a Potter?"
Harry nodded.
"Hmm, I suppose that if Sirius is your godfather, you must be James's boy. How is he?"
"Dead," Harry answered candidly. "Him and my mum were murdered by Voldemort when I was a baby."
"You have my condolences," the man answered sadly. "I did not know your father well, but your grandfather was a dear friend."
"My grandfather?"
"Charlus. Do not tell me you know nothing of him?"
"I don't know anything about my family, I was raised by muggles. I'm the last Potter so there wasn't anyone around to tell me about them."
The man in the portrait frowned deeply as he shook his head.
"Did my idiot grandson not tell you anything?"
"Sirius was in Azkaban and I was raised by my muggle relatives, if you can call it that."
"What the fuck happened when I died?"
The man, Arcturus Orion Black according to the inscription at the bottom of the portrait, was furious, his eyes narrowed as he trembled.
"Well, I don't know when you died but Voldemort killed my parents, Sirius went after the person that betrayed them and he ended up in prison because everyone thought it was him."
"So, instead of doing his duty, the moron went after whoever it was? Tell me he at least killed the bastard."
Harry shook his head.
"I did just over a month ago."
Arcturus took a deep breath.
"That explains your legal issues."
"No, I've been accused of using underage magic. It wasn't me," he defended. "Someone cast magic near my muggle relative's home, and I'm being blamed for it."
"How old are you, boy?" the man asked, peering at him as closely as he could from within the confines of his frame.
"I'll be fifteen tomorrow."
"Only fifteen?" he grumbled. "What the bloody hell is going on for you to be in so much shit?"
"Voldemort came back," Harry answered with a shrug. "Everyone thought he died the night he attacked me, but he didn't. The Minister is refusing to believe me and apparently wants to put me in my place."
Arcturus Black's jaw was clenched as he looked upon Harry speculatively.
"Put the books down, boy. I will teach you all you need to deal with the shits in the Ministry."
"You can do that?"
It was a glaring gap in his knowledge and experience. Tom had only explained to him how the Wizengamot worked and little else. He, evidently, did not expect Harry to have to deal with them in the future or not at least until he was older.
"I am the former Lord Black," Arcturus declared proudly, "I spent much of my life kicking their arses and I will teach you to do the same."
Harry eyed the man sceptically as he placed the books he had retrieved back onto the shelf.
"Why would you help me?"
The Blacks were notorious for their less than savoury disposition. He wasn't going to accept help from them so readily, not unless it was given with good cause.
"Your grandfather was a brother to me. The blood that flows through your veins is as much Black as it is Potter. When we are done here, look at the family tree in the drawing room. I have no doubt you will find yourself on there."
"We're related?"
He was taken aback by the revelation, not that he shouldn't be surprised. He very vividly remembered Tom explaining that most pureblood families were connected in some way.
"We are, young Potter. Perhaps in another life, had I lived, you would have been raised by me if things happened as they did for you," he added thoughtfully. "Anyway, there's no need to dwell on what never was, we must prepare you for what is to come. Take a seat, boy, this could take some time."
Over the next few hours, the man proved to be a wealth of knowledge when it came to the workings of the Ministry of Magic and the Wizengamot. Harry didn't know how much of what he was told would be useful, but he appreciated the effort the man went to, even if some of his approaches appeared to be rather questionable. He couldn't foresee himself calling whoever would interview him ' a steaming pile of inept shit', but he was grateful for what advice he was given.
"Now, more than anything, do not allow any bastard to talk down to you. The name Potter is one of respect and you should carry yourself as such. With the blood of the Blacks flowing through your veins, there is none that has that right, no other Lord and certainly no cowardly minister. The worse they can do is expel you. If they do, you can get another wand. I can point you in the right direction for that."
Harry chuckled unwittingly. Despite his cantankerous personality, Arcturus Black was entertaining to talk to.
"Thank you," he said sincerely. "I thought I'd have to rely on Dumbledore to get me out of this."
"Fucking goat," the man muttered. "You rely on no one, Potter. In less than two years, you will be a man. Start acting like it now."
"I will, Lord Black."
The man offered him a bow as he stared at him speculatively.
"Tell me, boy, does Sirius have any children?"
Harry frowned as he shook his head.
"Then that will make you his heir," Arcturus mused aloud.
"Or Lucius's son," Harry pointed out.
Arcturus spat on the ground at the mention of the Malfoy.
"I will not have my family handed over to that shit stain," he declared. "No, that will not do. Do you see that statue in the corner there?" he asked, pointing to a stone golem somewhat resembling a human form.
"The one with the red stones for eyes?"
"That's the one," Arcturus confirmed. "Behind it is the Lord's study with our family grimoire inside. I want you to take it. It contains the magic and spells that we have crafted and made our own over the last millennia. Should the worst happen, I will rest easy knowing the shits won't get our magic with our wealth."
"You trust me with it?"
"Sirius won't fucking use it. He spent his entire childhood trying to separate himself from who he is, and I doubt that has changed. You could make good use of it, especially if Voldemort is coming for you. You're Charlus's grandson, it is the least I can do for you."
"How do I get to it?"
"A drop of blood in each of the eyes," Arcturus explained, "it will open for you."
Harry approached the statue as he opened a small cut across the tip of his finger with his wand. Blood magic was not something to mess around with and he was nervous that something could go very wrong. Releasing a deep breath, he carried out the instructions and the golem glowed a bright red before stepping aside, his reluctance amounting to no unwanted consequences.
The room he entered was reasonably sized and furnished with an ornate desk that matched the furniture throughout the house.
"It should be on the shelf furthest from the door. That's where I left it."
Harry located the thick tome and flicked through the first pages, the handwritten notes and spells described within promising little but considerable suffering and a miserable death. He imagined several scenarios in which Voldemort would fall victim to several of them and a smile tugged at his lips. He deserved the worst of fates and he found it unlikely he would find worse than what was within these pages.
"Have you found it?" Arcturus called, pulling him from his thoughts.
"I've got it," he confirmed as he left the room, the golem concealing the entrance as it took up its vigil once more.
"That is for your eyes only, Potter," the old man said severely. "Do not let it fall into the hands of any other. I will find a way to climb out of this painting and kick your arse if you do."
"I won't," Harry assured the man.
"Good, now piss off. You need your rest if you are going to deal with an interfering bastard of sorts tomorrow. You must be sharp."
"I will, and thank you, Lord Black."
The man nodded.
"You will find that a vicious tongue will serve you just as well as one lined with silver in certain situations, Potter. Tomorrow, ruthlessness will be required. Offer no apologies and give no ground."
The portrait froze and Harry took his leave from the library, the words of the late Arcturus Black playing over in his mind as he pondered how his life would have been had the man raised him.
He snorted before shaking his head. That, he would not know, but he would hazard a guess that it would have been quite something to have been a part of.
(Break)
He woke the next morning feeling more prepared for what was to come than he expected to be. He knew that he was likely out of his depth having never faced such a proceeding, but his conversation with the former Lord Black the night prior had done wonders for his confidence.
He had no doubt that Fudge, or someone close to the man, had a hand in the Dementors being in Little Whinging, but proving it would be a nigh on impossible task without assistance and he was unlikely to get that from any in a position to do so.
Dumbledore would wish to drop the matter, as was his way, and no other would put their neck out for him. His best hope was that he could escape this farce with his wand intact and his place still at Hogwarts.
Keen to overcome and be done with whatever scheme had been concocted against him, he readied himself for the day and entered the kitchen to find it much less occupied than it had been last night.
"Morning, Harry," Remus greeted him from where he was sat at the table, poring over the morning paper. "Are you ready for today?"
He nodded as he took a seat for himself and began buttering some toast, frowning slightly as Kreacher placed a plate piled high with bacon and eggs in front of him.
"Young master will need his energy today," he croaked before disappearing with a gentle crack.
"What the hell was that all about?" Sirius asked, confused by the unusually kind gesture of the elf.
Harry shrugged as he tucked into the meal.
"I'm not going to complain," he returned having finished a mouthful.
Sirius merely appeared dumbfounded before shrugging. To him, the elf would never make sense. He had spent his youth being hated by Kreacher and the feeling was mutual. It was one of the few things that remained the same since he returned to his family home.
"Anyway, Happy Birthday, Harry," he offered as he reached into his robes and slid two wrapped packages towards the teen with a smile.
"Are these going to explode or change the colour of my hair?"
Sirius was affronted by the question.
"Would I do that to you?"
"Yes," Remus interjected. "You did it to me three birthdays in a row at Hogwarts."
"Well, you had it coming, you smarmy git. Weren't bright enough to not fall for the same trick, were you?"
Remus shook his head, a slight grin tugging at his lips in fondness.
"Would you care to tell Harry why you didn't try for the fourth."
Sirius visibly cringed.
"I don't want to talk about that."
"No, I wouldn't either," Remus snorted. "The idiot tried to do something similar to your mother. She wasn't a vain person, not really, but she took pride in her hair. Come on, Sirius, tell Harry what she did to you."
His godfather huffed, though he smiled despite his best efforts to appear annoyed.
"She took my wand from me and only let me have it back for lessons. I had to be in by nine for a week and I wasn't allowed to Hogsmeade."
Harry frowned for a moment but then laughed at the embarrassed man.
"You were grounded by my mum?"
"I was not grounded!"
"He was," Remus mouthed, shaking from his own mirth.
"Shut up and open your presents, not the bigger one, you'll have to save that for when your home. It's a hot tub that you can put in your garden. It's self-cleaning and does a lot of cool stuff. I thought you'd like to use it after you've been training."
It was a thoughtful gesture and Harry nodded appreciatively. He would certainly make good use of it. Shooting a final questioning look towards the man, he opened the smaller package and found it filled with an assortment of gadgets.
"They are dark detectors. A Sneakoscope, a foe glass and lots of other things you can just leave laying around that will pick up all sorts of activity. Usually, these things are crap but those were made for one of my great uncles who was a paranoid bloke. I saw them in the family vault and thought you'd like them."
It was undoubtedly an assortment of great value, if only for what they were made from. Each was inscribed with a plethora of runes, some gold and others platinum. Some were seemingly dormant whilst others hummed with magic.
"Thank you," he said appreciatively as he replaced the lid on the box and opened the one from the werewolf.
"You got him a book? What sort of nerd are you, Moony?"
"I got him something practical," Remus countered. "It will come in useful for him."
Sirius shook his head.
"He always does this, Harry. He bought your father a book on how to woo women when we were at school. Bloody hell, I bet you had your own copy."
"Well, I'm grateful it's not that," Harry broke in before the duo could begin a long-winded discussion about their days at school. "It will be useful, thank you, Remus."
The man smiled smugly at his friend as Harry shrunk and placed his copy of The Apprentice's Guide to Being an Apprentice in his pocket.
"Speaking of your family, did you know that your grandfather has a portrait in the library?" he asked, knowing it would prevent any rebuttal.
Sirius paled, his eyes wide as he shook his head.
"No, but it is the kind of thing that crazy old bastard would do. Did he speak to you?"
"He did," Harry confirmed. "He seems nice under all the brashness and cursing."
"He was a nutter," Sirius declared. "Not the kind of person you'd want to get on the wrong side of. Even Voldemort didn't want much to do with him, that's why he targeted Bella and Regulus."
"Your brother, right?"
Sirius nodded sadly.
"Reg was a good kid but was too eager to please my mother. You can imagine the kind of things that would make her happy. If anything, she's calmer in her portrait form than when she was alive."
Harry snorted disbelievingly and continued eating.
"Well, your grandfather knows you're the last Black. He's worried that the Malfoys will somehow get the lordship somehow."
"No, I legally made you my heir when you were born. Even though I was cast out, my children are first in line, godchildren included."
"Maybe you should tell him that," Harry suggested.
"I will," Sirius sighed. "It will give me a chance to get the family grimoire for you. I did say I had something that you'd be interested in."
"Arcturus gave it to me already," Harry revealed, much to the surprise of the man.
"He gave it to you. Just like that?"
Harry nodded.
"He said something about rather letting me have it than some shit stains," he replied with a shrug.
Sirius smirked at the explanation.
"That is the kind of thing he'd say. I didn't like him very much, but I respected him as a lord. He didn't allow any to think they were better than him, which I suppose was a part of why we didn't get on."
"Well, I quite liked him. I'd much rather people were blunt and honest than being sneaky bastards like Fudge and the rest of the Ministry."
Sirius released a deep breath.
"I'll speak to him. Even if only to let him know the family name won't fall to the Malfoys. I'll cast them out before I let that happen."
"I think he'd appreciate that," Harry offered as the door opened to admit the dark-skinned auror and pink-haired woman that had been present for the order meeting the night before.
"Wotcher, Harry," she greeted him.
He frowned at her, unsure if she was being overly friendly in a sarcastic way or if this was simply her personality. Thankfully, Sirius decided to intervene and introduce her.
"Harry, this is my cousin Tonks and the man is Kingsley Shacklebolt. They are both aurors, as I'm sure you've worked out by now."
The woman smiled brightly at him as Shacklebolt offered him a nod.
"Tonks?"
"Yeah, we, er, don't use her first name. She doesn't like it," Remus explained knowingly.
"What is your real name?"
The woman's hair shifted from pink to red and back again.
"If you don't know then you can just know me as Tonks," she returned. "It's probably better that way because if you use it, I will curse you."
Harry rose and eyebrow at the auror.
"Suit yourself. Are you ready to leave?"
"Yes, but we need to discuss security with you before we do," Tonks replied.
"No, we don't," Harry said as he stood. "I made it clear last night that I do not need protection. If anything, you would only get in my way."
"Dumbledore…"
"Is neither my parents nor someone who has any say over anything I do outside of school."
He was still irritated with the man for thinking he could have people watch over him without his knowledge and it was difficult to keep the bite from his tone. However, these people needed to know that he was not some kid they needed to look out for. He did not want to be patronised in such a way.
"Will we be apparating?"
Tonks scowled at him as she nodded.
"I'll see you later, Sirius, I'll be going home after the trial, but I'll try and see you before summer ends."
Sirius nodded, a frown marring his features.
"I thought you'd stay a little longer. I've not really seen you."
"I know, but I just don't want to be in England now. There's too many people trying to interfere in my life and not all of them want me dead."
Sirius chuckled, his demeanour brightening at the explanation.
"I know that feeling," he sighed. "I don't want you to feel like a prisoner."
"Dumbledore won't like you leaving," Shacklebolt interjected. "He is under the impression we are to escort you here when you are finished at the ministry.
Harry shrugged uncaringly.
"That just gives you one less job to do. If Dumbledore has a problem with it, he can discuss it with me instead of trying to keep me in the dark about everything."
Perhaps he was being a little belligerent, but he didn't care at the moment. One way or the other, people would learn to either discuss thing with him or leave him in peace. He cared not which. He had a job to do and he would do it with or without the help of others, as it had always been for him, except for Tom.
"Whatever gripes you have with Albus, you'll have to take up with him. Our job is to make sure you get to the Ministry unharmed," Shacklebolt replied. "Shall we?"
"Lead the way, Auror Shacklebolt," Harry returned.
With a shake of his head, the man exited the kitchen, gesturing for him and Tonks to follow. As he opened the door, he cast several detection spells on the street outside and nodded when he was satisfied no one was there.
To Harry, caution was something to be exercised where needed but this was quickly becoming a palaver that served only to hinder them.
"All clear. Tonks, you bring him ten seconds after I've gone."
The woman nodded and offered her is arm as Shacklebolt vanished with a crack.
"Well, if he didn't want to draw attention to us, he went about that the wrong way. Where is it we are going?" Harry asked, ignoring the proffered limb.
"To the alley opposite the main entrance to the Ministry, now take my arm."
Having experienced the discomfort of side-along apparation once before, he was not keen on doing so again. With a nod, he vanished and appeared next to a confused Kingsley Shacklebolt who was awaiting the arrival of his partner and him.
"Where is Tonks?"
Harry shrugged.
"She'll be here in a moment."
She arrived only a second later, her hair cycling through various colours as she stalked towards him.
"I should give you a bloody fine for that. How stupid can you get?"
"I don't let people I don't know apparate me," he replied.
"Well, you shouldn't be apparating anyway. You're already in enough trouble."
"Only because you cast magic where my relatives live," Harry reminded her.
She had the decency to look abashed before her scowl was firmly in place once more.
"That is not the point."
"Alright, that's enough," Shacklebolt intervened. "Why don't we pretend that we didn't see it and move on?"
"That's a good idea," Harry agreed with a grin towards the unhappy woman.
She muttered inaudibly under her breath as she drew her own wand and began scanning the passing crowds outside the alley.
"I can't see anything that worries me."
Shacklebolt nodded and led them towards a phone box on the opposite side of the road. He entered and picked up the receiver, his eyes still looking for any potential threat as he dialled several numbers.
"Aurors Shacklebolt and Tonks reporting for our shift," he announced when his call was answered.
He then returned the receiver and withdrew two badges that had been deposited into the tray that change would be given. Pocketing them, he turned his attention back to Harry as the booth began descending.
"You will be safe when we enter. You are to go to the reception desk and hand over your wand to be inspected. The guard will send you to the third floor where the Department of Misuse of Magic can be found."
Harry nodded his understanding, keen to be away from the aurors.
"Dumbledore will join you shortly," the man added as they reached a large atrium and he and Tonks took their leave, evidently not wanting to be associated with him any further.
Relieved by their departure, he headed towards where he could see a large desk that appeared to be a greeting point.
Having queued for a few minutes, he reached the guard who barely acknowledged him with a brief glance.
"Name and purpose?"
"Harry Potter, here for an interview in the Misuse of Magic office."
The guard shook his head as he checked a clipboard he held.
"There must be a mistake, Mr Potter. It says that you are to attend courtroom five," he answered with a frown. "What are they playing at?"
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"Courtroom five is where the Wizengamot hold trials for the worst of criminals. If this is a case of underage magic, then there is no need for it to be held in there."
Harry's nostrils flared in irritation. So, it was not just a simple summoning for questioning. A part of him now wished he had accepted Sebastien's offer to attend with him, but more than that, he was furious at the measures that had been taken against him.
"I will need to see your wand before I let you through," the man requested.
Harry handed it to him, and it was placed in a scanner. With a nod, it was returned a moment later.
"Strictly speaking, I shouldn't be giving this back to you, but mistakes can happen," the guard finished with a shrug.
Harry nodded gratefully as he slipped it back into his holster.
"Where is courtroom five?"
"They are on the basement level. Take the elevator," he advised, pointing to a golden gate a short distance away, "and good luck, Mr Potter. We are not all as foolish as our Minister."
Harry paused and the man gave him a knowing look of frustration.
"Enjoy the rest of your day," he offered.
With his parting words given, he headed towards the elevator and took it down to the lower levels where the space opened up even larger than what the atrium was. Fortunately, the heavy oak doors down here were inscribed with what was within the room behind and it did not take him long to locate courtroom five.
Pushing open the door, he walked through a short hallway into only what could be described as an enormous stone chamber. Chairs lined the walls in stands, most of which were filled by various formally dressed witches and wizards.
"You're late, Potter," Cornelius Fudge greeted him from his own, his bowler hat placed on the desk in front of him.
With his ire already having been provoked enough, Harry returned the glare.
"Well, considering I was expecting a meeting in the Misuse of Magic office, I'm sure I can be forgiven."
"Notification of this trial was sent out this morning to your home address," Fudge returned dismissively.
"And where is my home address, Fudge?"
"That is Minister Fudge to you, boy," the man fired back. "We know damn well where you live. The Ministry does not make mistakes. Now, take a seat," he instructed, pointing to a rather uninviting chair.
"No, the Ministry is completely infallible," Harry chuckled, "and I won't be sitting in the chair. I have neither been arrested nor charged with any crime. As far as I'm concerned, I am here to answer questions that I likely can't help you with. So, ask away and let's be done with it."
The Minister stared at him angrily as several of the other witches and wizards whispered amongst themselves.
"Very well. On the night of July twenty-first, a patronus charm was cast at Number four, Privet Drive, your home address. Would you care to explain to us why that was?"
"I have no idea as I have not lived in Privet Drive for more than three years."
Fudge was surprised by the answer and shook his head in disbelief as more whispering ensued amongst his peers.
"Impossible. It is your registered address, submitted to the Department of Family Records when you were a year old."
"Sorry, Mr Potter," a redheaded woman interjected, "but if you do not live at Privet Drive any longer and haven't done so for three years, where have you been?"
"I stayed in Knockturn Alley and brought my own home last year," he answered.
"And where is this new home? It is a legal requirement to register any move and house that a witch or wizard occupies," Fudge snapped.
"Only if the home is in wizarding Britain," Harry corrected. "I no longer live here."
"Y-you no l-longer live here?" Fudge questioned nervously.
"The boy is lying, Minister. His relatives are still registered at the address," a squat woman broke in.
"You can believe what you want," Harry replied with a shrug, "but I'm certain I know where my own home is."
"Then where is it?" the same woman demanded.
"That would be none of your business, you nosy cow," Harry retorted, his patience being stretched.
A smattering of laughter could be heard from some as many others looked at him disapprovingly. The woman, however, quickly recovered from her shock and reddened.
"How dare you speak to me in such a way!"
"You're right," Harry conceded with a bow, "you have my apologies Lady?"
"I am Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister."
"Then I retract my apology. Unless you have the title Lord or Lady, then you have no right to speak within these walls during a trial or meeting. You're nothing more than a glorified note-taker with an overinflated sense of self-importance."
The woman seethed where she was seated as a few chuckles could be heard once more.
Much to the apparent annoyance of the Minister, the chamber door opened, and a rather unhappy Dumbledore entered the room, a stern gaze sweeping across those gathered.
"You have my apologies, Harry. I was not made aware of the changes to the proceedings."
"It's fine," Harry replied, his eyes still firmly on the woman to the minister's left. "I was just explaining to Miss Umbridge her role within the chambers."
Dumbledore frowned as he took in the mood of the room.
"Perhaps you should allow me to take over?"
Harry shook his head.
"There's no need. Unless the Minister can categorically prove that the patronus charm was cast by me, he has no grounds for punishment, though I suspect he will try. Which one of you is Madame Bones?"
"That would be me," the redheaded woman that had questioned him earlier announced.
Harry offered her a bow of acknowledgement.
"Is it a regular occurrence that a first offence for perceived underage magic is warrants a full trial?"
"No, it is not," she answered, shooting a disapproving look towards the Minister. "But if the circumstances necessitate it, the usual warning can be dismissed in favour of it."
"And what circumstances would they be?"
"If a minor was to cast an illegal spell or be in severe breach of the statute of secrecy," Amelia Bones answered.
"So, the casting of a patronus charm would not warrant it?"
"In my experience, it would not. From what little evidence we have, no muggles witnessed the event."
Harry nodded thoughtfully.
"Then why is it that I find myself in this situation? Is it because the Minister has developed a personal vendetta against me and wish to bring me to heel?"
None deigned him with an answer, and he snorted derisively.
"This is nothing more than Fudge trying to exert control over me because he's too cowardly to admit the truth of the situation you are facing. You can bury your head in the sand as long as you like, but as I said, the blood of each death will be on your hand."
"THAT IS ENOUGH OF THIS MADNESS, BOY!" Fudge roared.
"No, it is enough of yours. Take my wand and snap it if you like but don't ever look to me when you all decide to take your fingers out of your arses and acknowledge what is going on. So long as that fucking idiot is leading you, people are going to die, and he will continue to make his excuses. Honestly, I'm done with wizarding Britain. Expel me if you want, I couldn't give a shit. As I said, it makes no difference to me. My home is far away from here, so I'll leave you to decide when you're going to save yours."
A silence fell amongst the Wizengamot members until it was broken by the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
"Is there any further testimony?"
A man seated further up in the stands stood to be acknowledged.
"The body recognises Lord Cadmus Selwyn," Fudge announced.
Selwyn offered a deep bow.
"Surely, the word of our valued Minister is all the evidence needed. He has time and again proven his wisdom in matters of law.
"You mean when he pardoned you and the rest of your Death Eater friends because you didn't have the balls to face Azkaban?" Harry replied. "Great judgement there. He didn't put half the effort into investigating your claims of being under the Imperius Curse as he has this and he's doe bugger all here except blow a lot of hot air."
"You will show respect to the Minister!" Umbridge demanded, panting.
"I show respect to those that earn it, Madame Umbridge. Fudge has done nothing of the sort. He's pardoned Death Eaters, associates with scumbags and spends his days bumbling around with his lips pressed against Malfoy's arse. Very respectable."
The woman was apoplectic, but Harry was not done. He turned his attention to the blonde seated on Fudge's right.
"Remember my promise, Malfoy. You and yours."
The man's lip curled, and he flushed but remained silent.
"If there is nothing further, we will take a brief recess to deliberate, Mr Potter," Madame Bones intervened. "Do wait outside and you will be sent for."
Harry shrugged and took his leave, followed by a thoughtful headmaster.
"I do not think it wise to provoke the Wizengamot, Harry."
"They are a bunch of brown-nosing morons," he replied, "and I meant what I said in there."
Dumbledore sighed.
"I understand that you are angry, Harry. It was not my intention to intrude upon your life, but I had to ensure that you were safe. I have said it before, Voldemort is a very resourceful and dangerous wizard."
"I know that better than anyone," Harry returned. "I will not spend my life cowering in the shadows and being watched over by people that can't protect me from him. Why should I?"
"I admire your spirit, Harry, but I wish you weren't so careless with your life."
Harry shook his head.
"I'm not careless with it, I just refuse to not live it because of him. He will continue coming for me and me for him when I'm ready, until one of us is dead. There's no point trying to put a flowery spin on that. It is what it is."
"I often forget how beyond your years you are," Dumbledore replied, looking at him questioningly before he shook his head of whatever thoughts he was having.
"This would have been much easier if I just said it was that Tonks woman that cast it," Harry muttered.
"It would," Dumbledore agreed, "however, that would create many problems for her, the Order and our current efforts. Forgive me, Harry, but I had no intention of throwing you under the proverbial bus in this matter. This is an unexpected development, but I am confident that they cannot convict you."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Because you are innocent," the headmaster answered simply. "Despite what you have seen and believe, there are some good men and women in there that will not allow it to pass."
Harry was sceptical but had little time to dwell on it as the door opened and Percy Weasley beckoned for them to re-enter the chamber.
With a brief glance, he could see that Fudge and his secretary in particular were silently fuming.
"Mr Potter, having found no evidence that you were the perpetrator of the magic in question, and though you perhaps went about these proceedings in the least productive way, you are cleared of all accusations made against you," Madame Bones declared.
Harry merely snorted in the direction of the Minister.
"Maybe one day you will wake up, Fudge. Until then, enjoy the death and destruction you will have to deal with."
"Mr Potter, you have been cleared, I would advise you to accept our decision and leave without further provocation," Madame Bones said firmly.
Harry frowned.
"Tell me, Madame Bones, is it against the law to speak your mind in this country?"
"No, Mr Potter, it is not," the woman sighed.
"Then I will feel free to tell the Minister that he is inept as and when I please."
"Leave, Mr Potter," the woman demanded, her words stern but the corners of her mouth tugging slightly in amusement.
Harry offered her a bow and left the room with a bemused Dumbledore in tow.
"Cornelius can make life very difficult for you, Harry."
The boy shrugged indifferently.
"He can't do any worse than Voldemort," he returned.
Although the man was despairing at how he had handled the situation, his eyes continued to twinkle merrily behind his half-moon spectacles.
"There is nothing I could say to dispute that," he conceded. "I do, however have a gift for you before you return home," he continued as he withdrew a book from his pocket and enlarged it. "Think of this as a birthday gift and a congratulations on your apprenticeship."
Harry accepted the large tome that had no title nor indication of author.
"What is it?"
"Ah, this is my own personal notebook that I begun when I too was an apprentice. I have continued writing down my own findings and observations since. I believe there is much in there that will serve you well and I am, of course, at your disposal to discuss anything you come across within the pages."
"Your personal notes?" he asked, surprised the man would part with such a thing.
Dumbledore nodded.
"Forgive me a moment of immodesty, Harry, but I am considered quite the authority in transfiguration, though there are inclusions of other branches in there, some finished and other ideas still in their infancy. Perhaps you will have better luck than I in completing the work, when you are ready."
Harry's eyes widened, relishing the opportunity and gift he had been presented with.
"Thank you, Professor," he offered sincerely.
Dumbledore smiled warmly at him.
"Do enjoy the rest of your summer, Harry. You do, after all, have a lifetime ahead of you to peruse the musings of an old man."
Harry could only nod as the headmaster took his leave, even forgetting to question why he was not insisting on an escort for him.
Pulling himself from the thoughts of what he had been gifted, he breathed a sigh of relief. Although what he had experienced had been unexpected, he had persevered and come out on top.
Shaking his head, he knew he had one person he could attribute to how he had handled the situation, and though he may have merely caught them off guard, he was grateful for the outcome.
" Thank you, Arcturus Black," he mused internally.