Plans Become Reality

DISCLAIMER: That part of this world and those characters you’ve seen before belong to their Creator: JKR. The rest is mine - although I cannot quit my day job as I make no $$$

A/N: It’s been longer than planned, so that means two for one. Thought about not doing it, but these chapters are a little shorter and there’d be a bit of a cliffie otherwise…

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: PLANS BECOME REALITY

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 4 th 1993

Luna straddled her broom and kicked off the grass into the air. She was not the flyer Harry was, but she had been flying since she was little and as long as it was not a Quidditch Match, she was comfortable on a broom. She had debated which broom to use, but decided to use one of her older brooms for now. Tied beneath the broom was a large box. Inside the box under a stasis charm were the Ardites. Harry had offered to help her on this, but she said it should not be a problem. It was not as if she intended to walk into the forest and it was a sunny day which meant that the dementors must not be near - or if they were they were in the shadows of the forest and the broom she had used was fast enough to evade such things. She just needed to get over the forest to release the Ardites, although it would be best if it were over the spider colony. She was not sure where this was nor was Harry except to say it was deep in the forest.

Luna Lovegood was a Ravenclaw and the daughter of a respected if eccentric naturalist. She had done her research after learning about those things thriving near their school which was how she learned about Ardites. Furthermore, she had read accounts of Acromantulas and knew it was possible to detect their colonies from the air. It had to be a large colony with mature spiders, which was rare given that most of the spiders never lived to full maturity thanks to Ardites and, in their native lands, Acromantula colonies never lasted long because the Ardites would find them in time. She was looking for a stand of unnaturally dark leaved trees. That was suggestive of a thriving colony of those spiders. Naturally, if she saw webs in the tree tops (to catch birds and bats) even better.

Ardites, Luna knew, were a magical insect that on cursory inspection looked like honey bees. They were slightly smaller than their non-magical cousins and behaved differently. They did tend to live in colonies like bees, but their colonies rarely had more than a hundred insects. They gathered nectar like bees which they consumed or turned into a kind of honey for long term storage. Unlike bees, however, they never produced that substance in near as much quantity and it was unpalatable. It seemed that aside from the Ardites themselves, nothing would touch the stuff as a food source, although to local magicals it was useful in potions. As nothing threatened their food source, Ardites never developed the sting that bees had.

Ardites, however, were lazy as compared to bees. Their small colonies were not a permanent state, rather a state that existed when they needed to store food for times of want or when they had to raise young themselves, which could occur if suitable acromantulas were scarce. With a large colony of the spiders around to incubate and provide an ample food source to their young, the colonies would be smaller and solely for the purpose of a communal food bank. And, as Luna knew, Ardites could live in the same environment as those spiders.

She knew this plan of theirs would not get rid of all the spiders or even get rid of them completely. Ardites did not bother with small Acromantulas. The spiders had to be larger than the largest tarantula to be a suitable nesting site for an Ardite’s eggs and larva, so smaller ones were safe from the bees. It was perhaps not a coincidence that the bees were not safe from the smaller ones, as the large ones had outgrown insects as a food source while the smaller ones preyed exclusively on insects. The larger ones were the problem as they required ever larger prey. They might not be as voracious as their smaller relations, but they did need to eat and that meant eating increasingly large game, including the natural predators. Left unchecked, they could destroy an ecosystem and Ardites had been nature’s check. It might take a few years to restore the balance to the forest this way, but it would readjust to a sustainable state even if smaller acromantulas continued to thrive.

Luna now knew what dememtors felt like and if she felt that she planned to turn back. The dementors at Hogwarts were the only risk in this plan, but the weather suggested they either were not nearby or they were dormant, preferring to stalk the night. She flew over the trees mindful of that risk and noticed some other students doing the same. This was something she would have to tell the others. She knew the dangers. They seemed oblivious to them which meant the staff needed to know Dumbledore’s warning was already not working. The staff would have to restrict what students could and could not do outside the castle or be certain where the dementors were or both and enforce restrictions vigorously.

There it is, she thought. There was a large stand of very dark, almost black leaved trees ahead. As she flew over, she could see a few webs in the tree tops. She stayed well clear of the tree tops just in case, although if anyone asked her what the just in case was about, she wouldn’t know. She pulled a line which should open the box and release the Ardites from their Stasis. The fact that she soon had several of them flying about her told her it worked. She turned her broom and headed back to the school.

Xenophilius Lovegood considered himself a naturalist first and foremost. He had inherited The Quibbler when his father had passed away during the war and had worked as a reporter and assistant editor before becoming its Publisher. First and foremost, however, he was a naturalist and The Quibbler meant he could publish his discoveries without having to first impress the old codgers who ran the formal journals on the topic and never published anything they did not agree with. Under Xeno’s tenure, while the old guard of naturalists public derided The Quibbler, it was where the up and coming field researches sent their articles for publication. Xeno only rejected articles that he knew lacked adequate research. This too infuriated the old guard who seemed content to research from the quite of an old library or comfortable study rather than endure the hardships and deprivations of actually going into the field. For the newer Naturalists, The Quibbler was the reputable journal in the field and garnered international respect for its naturalist articles.

But it was not a single topic periodical and never had been. Its section entitled “Zoological Developments” was now considered a respected, professional journal advancing the field and had won numerous awards for its works both for the contributing authors and the publication. But “Zoological Developments” was only one section. For as long as anyone could remember, The Quibbler had also engaged in a continual criticism of magical politics and society, although it had done so through farce, satire and fanciful speculation. A discerning reader could see the truths through the fantasy. Fortunately, most who might take offence were not so discerning and generally dismissed the critiques as the ravings of an otherwise harmless lunatic fringe. Xeno was the primary writer of these and set the standard for any contributing authors. Articles had to include verifiable facts. What an author concluded from such facts was their business as long as it was somewhat plausible.

For example, there was Xeno’s own “Rot Fang Conspiracy.” He knew the conclusions were off the mark. He thought Fudge had no business being Minister and he was hardly alone in that assessment. The man had made it a career of bumbling incompetence in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, was known to make decisions only when told what those decisions were and paid under the table to make them, and certainly suffered from both an intense inferiority complex and delusions of grandeur. Whenever Fudge opened his mouth, Xeno could only think: “And there are those who say I’m crazy.” Fudge was quite capable of contradicting himself several times in a minute. He tried to appear to be progressive and open minded and was just successful enough at doing so to become a compromise Minister after months of deliberation. He also had really bad teeth. Xeno knew enough of the man to think he was dangerous. At the very least Fudge sympathized with the Pure-blood Supremacists (who Xeno believed were dangerous) and was in their pockets. At worst, he was one himself which is exactly what the compromise that had put him in office was hoping to avoid. Hence the conspiracy. Fudge had bad teeth and sounded like an idiot whenever he spoke extemporaneously and clearly thought everyone should be like him as in have bad teeth and sound like an idiot.

Xeno really wanted verifiable facts for his Goblin Pie theory. All he had was enough to show that Fudge did not like Goblins. Many did not. Xeno did not know if the man even liked pies. He knew the man never bought any from the vendor in the Atrium of the Ministry who had a thriving business. Most of those who worked there bought his pies. Many who were just visiting made it a point to buy his pies. Fudge never had. Perhaps because they were not Goblin Pies? But that was a leap even he was not willing to publish yet.

He had spent the summer in the field in Tibet with a small group of naturalists studying the magical fauna. The team was led by a world class field researcher from the Chinese Ministry and Xeno planned to publish many papers from the expedition. His own research was again the Crumple Horned Snorkack, known to live in the region. He was certain that they were becoming an invasive species in Scandinavia, most likely brought there by either unscrupulous or careless wizards. He found that while evidence that they were around could be found, finding one was much, much harder. He had yet to do that. Naturalists understood the risks of introducing a foreign species to a new environment, but they also were not the ones doing such things and few of them ever decided to work for the paper pushing political mire that was supposed to regulate such things. The Ministry would never act without absolutely incontrovertible proof of anything and a politically expedient reason for acting.

Xeno was not in Tibet. He was in Paris based upon several tips from sources and other reporters he knew. The British Ministry was being called to respond to a complaint lodged against it by the Goblin Nation for overt violations of the Truce of 1715 by senior Ministry officials including the British Minister of Magic no less. This might well provide the facts needed to suggest Fudge’s odd taste in pies. But he would leave the Fudge Flaying to the reporters from Le Monde Magique and other foreign publications that did not kowtow to the Ministry, although he might ask a few questions if his colleagues did not. Xeno was more interested in hearing Fudge justify something he heard from his daughter in her very recent letter, namely the presence of Dementors both at Hogwarts and, more disturbingly, aboard the Hogwarts Express.

He listened to the official statement from Barty Crouch, Head of International Cooperation and the “Q and A” that followed. One had to hand it to Barty. He excelled at saying nothing one way or another when needed. It seemed clear that the British contingent were content to let Barty state their view on things. It also seemed clear that while he was present, it was hoped by the same delegation that Fudge would keep his mouth shut. One thing you could count on from Fudge: he could never resist strutting and sounding off in front of reporters.

Xeno was impressed. He could see that Fudge ached to talk, but every question put to him was either ignored or elicited “I have nothing further to add.” It was clear that the man did, but probably had been threatened somehow into saying nothing.

“Minister,” he asked, “on an unrelated matter, do you have any comment on the attack on the Hogwarts Express this past September 1st?”

“What are you on about?” Fudge replied.

“ The Quibbler has heard from a variety of sources, Minister, that dementors were present on a train filled with children.”

This piqued the interest of the foreign press.

“I am unaware of that incident,” Fudge said tersely.

“Are you denying it happened?”

“The Ministry has full control over the dementors.”

“Be that as it may, is it also not true that unknown numbers of dementors are currently loose from Azkaban and in the vicinity of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

“I take offense at the term loose! They are there to apprehend a known fugitive who is known to have designs on that school!”

“So, you admit that dementors are not at Azkaban?”

“Some have been posted to assist in the apprehension of Sirius Black.”

“The same man most recently seen at Gringotts London?”

“The very same.”

“And the same man who escaped from Azkaban?”

“Of course.”

“A prison guarded by dementors?”

“That is hardly a secret.”

“So, these dementors who could not keep a prisoner in his cage are now being used to help catch the same prisoner? What makes the Ministry think they can be successful? They obviously could not hold him when his location was known. How could they possibly help find him once he is lost?”

“I am assured that the escape was an aberration…”

“Are there dementors guarding or searching through Diagon Alley?”

“Don’t be silly. Of course not!”

“Or the Ministry.”

“No. That’s just foolish!”

“How about your home, Minister?”

“Why would I want those things anywhere near my home? That’s just silly!”

“Yet you admit they are being used at Hogwarts.”

“It was deemed necessary…”

“A school full of children. Children who cannot be expected to defend themselves against such things.”

“I’ve been assured the things are under control.”

“And yet there were no Aurors aboard the Hogwarts Express. Wouldn’t it have been prudent to have sent some aboard?”

“It was deemed a waste of assets. The Aurors are busy searching for Black!”

“Who you’re told has designs on Hogwarts. Again, why not place Aurors on the Express?”

“Um…”

“Why allow dementors aboard?”

“They were not allowed aboard! They got aboard!”

“Ah, so the Ministry knew that they had.”

“Of course.”

“And you still insist they’re under your control?”

“Of course they are!”

“What will it take for you to change your mind, Minister? The deaths of students? An Atrium filled with grieving parents?”

“I have pressing business! Excuse me!”

Xeno smiled. It might not lead to a story on Goblin Pies, but he could now crucify Fudge in the next issue. Moreover, he was certain Fudge could expect similar treatment from the world press.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 6 th , 1993

Breakfast at Hogwarts was the time when letters arrived from the outside, at least for the students. As such, while students arrived at various times for their first meal of the day, most were present at 7:30 when the windows opened to allow in the post owls. Harry, of course, had most of his mail diverted to the farm. His ladies received letters from their immediate family via the family’s access trunk. But their mail order stuff and subscriptions still arrived in the Great Hall. Moreover, they all knew that Luna’s Dad was still abroad and did not have his own trunk yet so his post had to come this way. It would look odd if it did not.

A non-descript post owl delivered a letter to Luna as she was eating her eggs. It was clearly one of those you rented from a postal center rather than a family bird. Luna removed the letter and gave the owl a strip of bacon for its trouble.

“It’s from Daddy,” she exclaimed. “He forgot my birthday you know so he’s probably remembering now.”

Luna’s birthday had been the previous Friday. She had a party at the Farm that evening with the Flamels and House Longbottom in attendance and another one on Saturday when the adults were there. She had not heard from her father about that, but did not seem too upset. He always remembered in the end. As far as Luna was concerned it was the best party she had ever had and the best birthday since her Mum had died. She had been surprisingly bubbly ever since, even for her.

“Yep! He remembered. Said he sent my prezzies separately through Gringotts! Oh my!”

“What is it,” the others asked.

“He’s gonna publish an article about the dementors. Apparently Fudge stepped in it in a way where it’s clear they’re being reckless about those things. Fudge claims that they weren’t supposed to be on the train and were under control, but then that they were not and acts like that’s not that big a deal. But he did so before the foreign press in Paris after the stuff about what happened at Gringotts so it won’t be just The Quibbler.”

“We should move forward sooner rather than later then,” Daphne said. “If it were to come out that those things never were needed here in the first place…”

“Are we ready, though?” Harry asked.

“Almost, I think. Mr. Tonks has been most helpful and said he’d be there although it’s our show as it were.”

“How soon?”

“We need time to send the required notices,” Hannah said. “Not much time, but a week I should think.”

Harry nodded.

“And time to make ready for the guests,” Ginny added. “I mean, we can handle them on the estate, but we need to get them there and all that and need some kind of plan.”

“And get them there without wands,” Daphne added.

They had talked about all of this, but had not yet worked out the details.

“Probably should ask McGonagall for ideas,” Hermione suggested.

Harry thought about it. This plan could work. It had one flaw, though. To work, to be official, they had to invite Dumbledore and he was loath to do that. It was one of the reasons why he had put it off so far. It was certainly the reason he had for doing so. The longer he put off having to deal with that man, the better. But the girls were right. The story about what really happened at Gringotts was sure to break soon and now there was also the one about the dementors. The plan was more than just about getting Sirius free. Done correctly, it could well get the people thinking about their government rather than accepting it as it was.

“Okay,” he decided. “We do it. Set it up for a Saturday. Oh. And be sure to invite Oliver and the Quidditch team. He’s already talking ‘bout starting practices and would have kittens if I had to skive off even for a good reason. That way, we could hold a few at the Pitch in the Valley.”

“Let House Longbottom know?” Hermione added.

“Of course.”

That would be done by post to their farm since it had to be official, although they would also be told verbally since that could be done now or as soon as they set the date.

“Professor, I can’t seem to… ,” Malfoy began. His arm was in a sling. No one who had been in the class that day except maybe the Slytherins thought he was injured, but he was clearly acting as if he was. It was their first Potions Class of the year and already Malfoy had been making a big deal about his incapacitating and life threatening scratch.

“Potter!” Snape called out. “Help Mr. Malfoy prepare his ingredients!”

Harry ignored the order and kept to his own work.

“Potter? Did you hear me?”

“Think you need to call him Lord Potter, Sir,” Seamus said. Several students sniggered. Harry continued with his own work.

“Lord Potter, you are to help Mr. Malfoy with his ingredients,” Snape said, clearly hating it.

“I don’t think so,” Harry said.

“What?” Snape and Malfoy exclaimed.

“He is of an inferior House and not one to which I am allied nor is he my Vassal. I cannot be compelled to render any assistance, Sir,” Harry replied.

“Fine! Granger you do it!”

“That rule extends to Countess Finchley as well, Sir,” Harry said. “As it does to Countess Abengale. Were Baroness Tinworth in this class, it would apply to her too, as you should be aware.”

“Fine, Lord Longbottom…”

“House Longbottom finds itself in the same situation as House Potter and is not inclined to assist Mr. Malfoy,” Neville said although he was clearly nervous as he said it. “This extends to Countess Marston and Baroness Halden Moor as well, Sir.”

“Parkinson! Help Malfoy!”

“That’s a boggart, that is,” Dean Thomas said.

“Indeed,” Professor Lupin replied. “Third Year, we focus on dark creatures. Now, before you ask, for those of you taking Care, you may be learning about some of the creatures again when you sit for NEWTs. There, you will be learning about them from a zoological perspective. Here, we’re not so interested in that as we are with how to deal with them. Many are dangerous, but there are ways both to avoid them and to deal with them that you should know. Right then, can anyone tell me what a Boggart is?”

“It’s a shape shifter,” Hermione said.

“And what’s its base form?”

“No one knows, Sir. It takes the form of a person’s worst fear…”

“Correct,” Lupin said. “And five points to Gryffindor. That is what the course book says. But what if your worst fear was heights, or crowds or darkness?”

No one could answer.

“It would either take a form that you also feared, or a form that you associate with that fear. The effect is the same. You become terrified and it feeds off of that terror. Now, like dementors it cannot make decisions. The best defense against the worst a dementor can do, aside from not being anywhere near them, is to never, ever be alone with one. They cannot then choose between one person and another. Same’s true with a Boggart. It can’t transform into many fears at once and will therefore remain dormant if there’s more than one person close by. But there’s also a spell we can use in case we’re ever alone with one, just as there’s a spell that can be used if you’re alone with a dementor. Although, I’d like to think the spell I’m going to teach you is a lot more fun… and a lot easier to learn.”

“Bloody brilliant that class,” Ron said after it was over. “Wish I could do that to real spiders! Although, you might be in for it, Neville.”

Neville nodded. “It’s okay. It was funny at the time.”

“Whole school’s gonna hear how Neville turned Snape into a drag queen,” Dean Thomas laughed.

“What’s that?” several voices asked.

“It’s a bloke who prefers dressing up as a girl,” Dean said. “Don’t ask me why. Personally think that’s creepy although there were a couple of them in my neighborhood.”

“Sorry it ended before he could get to you, Harry,” Ron said. “Then again, I guess we didn’t need to see You-Know-Who…”

“Don’t think it would’ve been him,” Harry said. “To be honest, I don’t think he’s all that scary really.”

“Oh. Well, you’re three for naught against him at least so… What do you think it would’ve been?”

“Don’t know. And my guess is it would’ve been worse than spiders.”

“What was yours, Hermione? All we saw was a door,” Lavender Brown asked.

“Beyond the door was Professor McGonagall,” Hermione replied. “She told me I failed all my classes and was gonna be a maid for the rest of my life…”

“What you do?”

“Turned it into Malfoy,” Hermione shrugged. “Once I remembered what was going on. I’d never believe a word he says.”

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 12 th , 1993

Professor Dumbledore had not enjoyed his return to Hogwarts as much as he would have liked. He had to sit through a meeting with his Heads of House where Severus was complaining at length about the temerity of Harry and Mr. Longbottom and yet finding absolutely no support from any other members of the Staff. It was clear that matter could not be resolved to anyone’s liking. Severus wanted to “put the arrogant brats” in their place and yet nothing he complained of exceeded what they were allowed as emancipated Lords. None of the others were willing to allow Severus any concessions in this regard. Dumbledore decided it was best to do nothing. He could no more change Severus’s mind than he could command the weather and it was clear he could not garner any support for Severus from the others.

He had looked to the school as a sanctuary from the headaches building outside the walls. It was clear the Minister was at best being disingenuous about what had happened that day at Gringotts and, were he not Chief Warlock, he might openly support the Goblins whom he had come to believe were probably providing the accurate story. But to openly support the Goblins would be detrimental to Britain. It was clear that the ICW was likely to support the Goblins and probably impose at least some forms of sanctions on Britain, any of which would be unpleasant. He had to at least attempt to minimize the unpleasantness and this was running afoul of his role as Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, where he was expected to support the decisions of that body as if they were his own and until now they usually had been. There was already some talk of removing him, not because of anything he had done, but because there were those who felt his position was clearly compromised by his duties as a member of the Wizengamot of Greater Britain and its Chief Warlock. For now, Dumbledore was forced to work to keep both positions and because of this was in no real position to either support the Minister or act in an impartial manner and it was frustrating to say the least.

At least there was Hogwarts. Or so he had thought.

He was in his office and noticed he had a letter waiting for him which struck him as odd. He had only just returned that morning and even then it was after the morning post. His personal mail was in his private apartment. Mail on his desk was always official in some nature and all such mail should have been delivered to Professor McGonagall. He was even more confused to see Gringotts seal on the envelope. He opened it and read:

NOTICE OF PROCEEDING

To: Hon. Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot of Greater Britannia.

Dear Sir:

In accordance with the relevant Provisions of the Truce of 1715 and as service to a valued customer, this Notice is hereby provided to you through Gringotts London.

Sir:

You are hereby notified in your capacity as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot of Greater Britannia that, pursuant to the provisions of Article 21 of the Wizengamot Charter, a Manor Court is being convened to hear the Petition placed before it for adjudication and recommendation by a person under the jurisdiction of the Head of such Ancient and Noble House vested with authority to convene such a court. As Chief Warlock and as a disinterested member of aforesaid Wizengamot and in accordance with the provisions of Article 21, this notice is provided to facilitate you attendance as a spectator and on behalf of aforesaid Wizengamot. It is not anticipated that you may be called as witness or as a responding party. Under the Provisions of Article 21, your attendance is not required.

The matter that shall be considered is set forth below:

Before the Manor Court of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter;

The Ancient and Noble Houses of Abbott, Bones and Longbottom attending; the Line of Davis attending and the Proxy of the Ancient and Noble House of Black attending:

In the Matter of Petitioner vs. The Ministry of Magic for Greater Britannia. Be it known that Petitioner, seeks redress form Respondent, the Ministry for: Attempted Line Theft, Attempted Line Assassination, Imprisonment without Cause, Criminal Assault, Willful Defamation of Character and any other cause that may find support in the evidence presented.

By pre-proceeding Motion and after hearing on the merits, the Court deems it unnecessary to reveal the identity of the Petitioner at this time.

The Manor Court shall convene at a House Potter Estate on Saturday, 18 September 1993 and shall remain in session until all matters have been heard and decision of the Court rendered. Should you desire to attend, please assemble in the Transfiguration Classroom, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry not later than 9:30 A.M. on the above mentioned date and with the expectation to remain at the House Potter Estate until such matter is completed. Transportation and communication beyond the Estate will not be possible while the Court remains in session.

You must present this notification to the persons at the transport site or you may be denied admission.

Harry James Potter

Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter

Earls of Finchley, Hereford, Abengale and Hwicca, Baron of Loch Sheen.

For the Court.

Hermione Jane Potter nee Granger

Countess Designate of Finchley.

Clerk of House Potter Manor Court.

Minerva Giselle McGonagall

Acting Headmistress Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

On Behalf of Hogwarts.

This was unexpected to say the least. Dumbledore knew what a Manor Court was. It had fallen out of use, but was still technically legal. As far as he knew, one had not been convened in his lifetime and certainly not during his tenure as Chief Warlock. The Manor Court was a court that held legal jurisdiction over the lands of the Head of the Manor and Estate and all who lived there and, under certain circumstances, those were merely present there. It predated the Wizengamot and went back to the times when independent Clan Chiefs were the authorities in the land. It continued after the forming of the Wizengamot to deal with disputes that occurred upon the property of recognized nobility but said nobles could no longer sit in absolute judgment over their extended family who lived elsewhere. Since the notion of estates had faded over the centuries, as far as Dumbledore knew, there were no Manors that held true sway over more than their immediate family and as such there was little need for this archaic body. But it was still an option under the law if its jurisdiction could be established and was a vehicle to lodge complaints against the Ministry or the Wizengamot or some persons whose actions were otherwise protected by those bodies or the law.

Dumbledore’s initial reaction was this was an attempt to wrest back control of House Potter. That clearly was something a Manor Court could decide, but its decisions were merely advisory and the Wizengamot was not obligated to either to ratify or enforce that decision. Still, the boy could try. He had nothing to lose by trying. Yet the summary of the Petition made no sense. It named the Ministry as Respondent; the accused party. While Dumbledore did not expect the boy to know enough to make that distinction, this did come from Gringotts who would have asked what this was about and known that the real party was Dumbledore and named him and maybe the Wizengamot as Respondents, not the Ministry. Moreover, the notice he received was clearly advisory. It said clearly he did not have to attend, would not be called upon to answer and would not even be called upon as a witness. If this was about the Weasley contract and its provisions, surely it would have required that. But what else could it be about?

Moreover, it was to be held here at Hogwarts. He could understand that to an extent as the boy was here. But Manor Courts could not physically be convened anywhere but at that Estate and as far as Dumbledore knew, Potter knew little about his family properties and could not gain access to them now, despite his limited emancipation.

He stuck his head in the Floo. “Minerva, could you come to my office?” he called out.

It took her some time to arrive and Dumbledore had been unsuccessful at determining anything. Nothing made sense.

“Are you aware of this, Minerva?” he asked after pleasantries had been exchanged handing her the notice.

“I am,” she said. “Lord Potter brought it to my attention recently.”

“Surely he knows he cannot convene such a court…”

“He can. He showed me to my satisfaction that this falls within the jurisdiction of House Potter sitting as a Manor Court…”

“He cannot call it here!”

“No. He cannot. He knows that as well.”

“Then why is it set to be held in your classroom?”

“My classroom is not where it will be held. It is where those who will attend shall be transported to the Potter Estates for the proceeding.”

“Surely any floo will do?”

“Transportation will not be by floo. The estate is not connected to the network. Likewise apparition is not possible and Lord Potter is not about to authorize portkeys…”

“Then how…?”

“I am satisfied that the method of travel will facilitate access for most invitees if not all of them and will not either compromise the wards of the school, the safety of the students or the safety of Lord Potter. Regrettably at this time, most of the information I have been privy to is protected by a Fidelius Charm so, as you are aware, I cannot reveal it.”

“Who’s the Secret Keeper?”

“That too is so protected. I can say it’s not Mr. Potter.”

The last revelation stunned the Headmaster. No one hid the identity of a Secret Keeper that way. Everyone knew that the charm was used to hide property and not information. But his thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock at the door.

“Enter,” Albus called. Severus Snape stormed in.

“That little brat has gone too far!” he said without even acknowledging the others. “I’ve told you he’s arrogant! And he does this!” he added waiving a piece of parchment.

“Might I see what it is he has done?” Dumbledore asked calmly.

Snape handed over the parchment still seething. Dumbledore read it.

“I received a similar notification, Severus. Similar but not the same as it seems I shall not be called to testify…”

“He can’t do this!”

“As Head of House and assuming he can invoke the jurisdiction of his Manor Court, he most certainly can, Severus. I’m not certain he can invoke such jurisdiction. But I’m seriously lacking in information to state such one way or another. And before you suggest we call him in here, there are problems with it. First of all, he has called his Court and to attempt to influence it is a criminal matter and asking him why he thinks he has the nerve can be seen as just that. Secondly, I’ve been advised that the details of this matter are currently protected under a Fidelius Charm and Harry is not the Secret Keeper. Neither of us nor all of us combined can get through that. And finally, so long as the matter falls within the recognized jurisdiction of his Manor Court, he can call you as a witness and the Ministry will have to enforce that summons. Besides, it says here you’re being called as an expert in your field, not as a material witness.”

“I’ve been called as well - as an expert in my field,” McGonagall said, “as has Hagrid. Poppy’s been requested…”

“So we just sit here and let that… that… student dictate his terms?”

“Hagrid?” Dumbledore asked ignoring his Potions Professor. “Most curious. I dare say, I’m surprised Filius and Pomona are not as it seems…”

“A fair few on faculty have been invited to attend, Albus,” Minerva said. “Like you to observe. Should prove quite the entertainment.”

“This is ridiculous! He’s doing it to spite us!” Snape protested.

“If it were just you, Severus, I might be inclined to agree,” McGonagall said. “Really. You sound like that malingering knitwit Mr. Malfoy.”

“He’s seriously injured!”

“If he’s injure at all, I’m a hamster. The boy’s a layabout who lacks any of the Slytherin traits. Guess you’re stuck with him and most your lot ‘cause they lack the traits for any other House.”

“That’s enough!” Dumbledore said. “I did not ask you here to discuss whatever it is Mr. Malfoy’s up to now. This is about Mr. Potter. If he can convene the court, we have no choice but to allow it, Severus. I cannot say that he can, but this was sent via the Goblins who would have to be told more than it says on the parchment and would know if this was a red herring. They seem to feel there’re sufficient grounds for House Potter to convene as a Manor Court for whatever it is in the summary of the Petition. At the very least, this has piqued my curiosity. Enough so, I might add, that I hope other matters will not preclude my attending.”

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 18 th , 1993.

“Ah Dumbledore!” a voice called.

Albus Dumbledore was standing in a queue in his own school. On the one hand, that he had to stand in line was an annoyance he had not been subjected to outside of a busy day at the tellers at Gringotts in a long, long time. On the other hand, there was a sense of novelty he found mildly interesting. The man who had called to him was Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic of Greater Britannia. With him was his Senior Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge. Were it up to Dumbledore, she would’ve been sacked and quite possibly she would’ve lost her pension for the events at Gringotts. But it was not. Why Cornelius had kept her on at all was perplexing. His only guess was she knew where too many bodies were buried as it were to be let go.

“Quite an event!” the Minister said. “I don’t recall such an event in my lifetime. Just been talking to Archibald, you know. Daily Prophet had a personal invite, can you imagine? And look at this crowd. Even students queued up to see history being made. It’s like pulling teeth, you know, to get the youngsters interested in the Ministry or to attend your sessions.”

“I take it then you were not a recipient of an official notification?” Dumbledore asked.

“I was not. Odd that, though. Seems the Ministry itself is in the dock as it were and yet I’m not called. Amelia’s our designated representative. I sent a letter ‘bout that. I was assured that the events at issue were long before I became Minister and that my official participation might… well, might raise unnecessary questions. If it’s not about my administration, I suppose that may be a correct assessment. But even if it’s not… Well, I am the Minister, am I not? Seems only polite that I should be asked to attend.”

“Minister Fudge?” a voice asked. They looked and saw a young woman. Dumbledore immediately recognized her as Miss Greengrass, now Countess Abengale. “We were not expecting your presence.”

“Yes,” he said, “there seems to have been an oversight.”

“There was not,” she said. “This is a Manor Court. It predates the Ministry by almost a thousand years and by law is still considered separate and apart from it and the Wizengamot, although its authority has been circumscribed by Charter to limit it to areas purely within its purview. Space is at a premium, so we had to be circumspect in our invitations and, as you as an individual and as Minister are not an interested party… You would be surprised at the number of gate crashers we’ve already had to turn away. We also felt it would only be polite not to add to your busy schedule unnecessarily.”

“Well, you can see the Minister has decided that his schedule can accommodate this… whatever it is,” the Undersecretary said icily. “Hence, we demand entry. And it’s not for you to decide what is and what is not of interest to the Minister, girlie.”

“It’s Lady, actually,” Daphne said. “You should address me as Your Grace. I am Countess Abengale and Court Advocate after all. I don’t know who or what you are…”

“I am Senior Undersecretary to the Minister…”

“Ah. We may be able to accommodate the Minister, but you will remain behind…”

“Do you not know who I am?”

“A gate crasher, that’s certain. Also nothing more than a glorified clerk and clearly a problem seeing as you’ve been identified as a disruptive influence after you nearly single handedly started another Goblin war. You also clearly don’t know your place. This is, after all, the Manor Court of an Ancient and Noble House and not some Ministry office. If you insist on proceeding any further, we may decide not to accommodate the Minister at all - or find reason to charge you.”

“Dolores, please shut it and go home,” the Minister said. She gave him an indignant look and stormed off. “I do apologize, Your Grace,” he said laying it on thick. “She is a trusted assistant and insisted on accompanying me. But had I known she would present difficulties, I would not have allowed her along.”

Daphne nodded. “I will see to it his Lordship is advised of your request. Things are tight, but we should be able to make accommodation…”

“Fudge showed up,” Daphne said. Harry was sitting in the Great Room for now. “He would like to attend. He brought along that toad you mentioned. It seems he hasn’t seen fit to sack her. She was… rude to say the least.”

“I hope you told her to piss off,” Harry smiled.

“Not in such words, but yes.”

“It’s tempting to ask her back. But since she didn’t attack Sirius on my estate and I’m not about to give her a chance… Still, would’ve been nice to hang her. We have room for the Minister? Was she the only toadie in tow?”

“Aside from her, he’s alone and we have a room at the Old Farm.”

“Extend my compliments and such.”

“Your invitation or notification?” the Elf asked Dumbledore and Dumbledore just inside the door to the Transfiguration Classroom.

Dumbledore was just handing it over when Daphne walked up.

“Minister? His Lordship offers his compliments. An exception has been made allowing your attendance, but you will be in the gallery with the other disinterested parties.”

“That’s fine, um… Your Grace.”

“Higgins? He’s clear to Station Five.”

“Yes Ma'am,” the Elf said. “Professor Dumbledore, Minister Fudge, you shall depart from Station Five. You can’t miss it seeing as it is the only station with a ‘5’ over it.”

They walked in. There were ten much shorter queues, each with a numeral over it. “5” was all the way at the far side of the classroom as was “10.”

“You want my bloody leg too?” a voice bellowed. Dumbledore recognized the voice immediately. It was Master Auror Alistor Moody, recently retired from the Auror Corps and currently working in an advisory capacity with the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. “I can’t bloody well walk without it!”

“I shall make an inquiry with the Chief of Security, Sir,” the House Elf said. “But the general rule is - no magical items or potions beyond this point and your leg is clearly magical. Please wait here.”

“Is everything alright, Alistor?” Dumbledore asked.

“I don’t know whether to be insulted or impressed,” Moody said. “This lot certainly knows about security. Can’t sneak in a nip of Pepper-Up without getting the business. They flat out refuse any wands - well, as long as there’re no exception, that is understandable. Told me my eye is right out, they did. Now it’s the bloody leg! Tightest security I’ve ever seen. Ministry could learn a thing or three from this lot…”

“Master Auror Moody?” the elf said.

“Aye.”

“House Chief of Security sends his compliments. He’ll make an exception for the leg.”

“Bloody generous of him,” Moody growled.

“He further passed on a message.”

“Oh?”

“Constant Vigilance, Sir.”

Moody laughed. “Aye. ‘Tis true. Must be one of my old lot.”

“Descend the ladder, Sir. Through the door an elf will escort you to your room so you can settle in and freshen up. Lunch will be in the main dining room. You can’t miss it. Enjoy your visit to Potter Farms.”

Albus and the Minister headed towards their queue as Moody struggled down into what looked like a trunk.

“Surely they won’t take our wands,” the Ministry said.

Dumbledore did not like the thought of that one bit. “I’d like to think they’ll make an exception in our case.”

“Somehow, they don’t seem inclined to make many exceptions,” the Minister observed.

“Good morning,” a House Elf said. They had reached the front of the queue. “Please place all wands, potions, magical items, portkeys, enchanted objects, animals, and anything else living or magical into the box provided.”

“Surely you would not deprive an old man of his wand?” Dumbledore said.

“Your choice, Sir. But you may not enter if you’re armed. The wards will detect that and they will not respond in a manner which you will find…”

“AARG?” a voice screamed and they saw and saw a man hurled across the room. “Bloody hell!” he said getting up. “It’s only a Quick Quotes Quill!”

“No exceptions, Sir,” the elf at that station stated. “You may ask for an enchanted Quill upon arrival.”

“I was going to say pleasant,” the elf at Station Five finished. “Wands, potions and so forth in the box. They will be safeguarded and returned to you upon your departure. If you need any potions for health reasons, advise the staff as there is a Healer on call.”

“Guess that means no exceptions,” the Minister said as he began to place things in a box. Dumbledore did the same.

Dumbledore entered what looked to be a Manor House, although not one he had ever seen before. It lacked the appointments of most Manors, seeming as if it was no longer used as a primary residence. Still, it was furnished and had a touch of elegance. And Elf escorted his to a guest room on one of the upper floors and it was clear he was hardly the only guest in residence, although he saw no sign of Harry or any of his ladies. The Elf told him this place was known as the Old Farm and had been the personal estate of Lord Charlus Potter and his wife Dorea.

The room was small, but comfortable. It had its own private bath, which even in this day was a luxury in inns and homes in the magical world. A private bath was one of the real perks being on faculty at Hogwarts and was a reason many Professors chose to live there. Its window looked out on an expanse of lawn that went off into the distance. Far in the distance he saw tall mountains, much taller than any he had seen in the British Isles. He wondered where this place was and could only guess somewhere on the Continent.

He opened a suitcase he had brought with him, one in which there had been some magical items which he noticed had been confiscated. Whoever was in charge of House Potter security was annoyingly thorough. The elf appeared again and advised him that he had fifteen minutes to change his mind and depart. After that time, something called Time Compression would activate and it would be impossible for anyone to leave until it lifted and apparently that included the Elves.

Lunch was on the Ground Floor in a large Dining Room with many tables. Dumbledore sat with the Minister and a couple of colleagues from the Wizengamot including Amos Diggory. Amos told him that his son was here as well, but apparently not at this place. Lunch was ordered from a menu and was far better than expected. He could not remember a better lunch. At least they would eat well.

After lunch all of the guests of this house were led out front where in the drive there was a large motor coach. Upon boarding, Dumbledore guessed that it had been magically enlarged to accommodate everyone, although not without someone seated next to them. The coach began to move as soon as everyone was seated and many were pleased it was not the violent ride one had come to expect on the Knight’s Bus. It was not as fast a trip either. By Dumbledore’s watch, it was twenty minutes or so by some route before the bus arrived in what looked like a village, except most of the buildings seemed very small, almost child sized. He then saw why. It was a village of House Elves. This puzzled him as it was obvious this place might be visible to Muggles. It also looked like the place was still under some sort of construction as there were at least a few partially built structures and elf workers busy putting them up. There was a village square and at one end was a very large wooden building that looked brand new. The motor coach stopped in front of it.

They were shown into the large building. It was a vast hall with benches and a balcony on three sides with seats. Each person was escorted somewhere. Dumbledore was led to a section of seats separated from the rest by a railing. The Elf escort said this section was reserved for members of the Wizengamot. He took a seat and saw other members take seats as well while other witches and wizards were seated in the gallery on the main floor and in the balcony above. If he had to guess, at least a quarter of the students from Hogwarts were soon in various seats and a large number of adults, many of whom he did not remember.

“Would you believe it Albus,” Amos Diggory said taking a vacant seat next to him, “there’re Muggles here! Quite a few I should suspect. Parents, I believe of students although the one I talked to is older. His children already finished.”

“Interesting,” Albus said. He really could not think of anything else and certainly not why they were here. Taking a look at his section, he saw a fair few members of the Wizengamot were in attendance but there were, from his perspective, notable exceptions. He was about to include Madam Longbottom in that list, but she then was escorted in and shown to their section.

He saw “Miss Granger” enter from a corner and take a seat in a booth or something that was in front of a high bench with several chairs behind it. Moments after she was seated, he saw the Minister escorted to a seat in the front row of the public gallery just behind one of two tables that faced the bench, between which was some sort of lectern. The table in front of the Minister was soon occupied as well by Madam Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Alistor Moody and a younger Auror of Albus’s acquaintance Kingsley Shacklebolt. The table on the other side now held “Miss Greengrass” and a man he knew to be Ted Tonks of Blakley, Catherson and Tonks, Solicitors. In the Gallery he also saw those members of the school staff who had been invited.

There was a banging that drew everyone’s attention to the bench area and particularly to “Miss Granger.”

“All rise,” she called out. “The Honorable Manor Court of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, duly called and convened pursuant to Custom and Article 21 of the Wizengamot Charter. Assisting Ajudicators: The Honorable Malcolm Davis, Head of the Ancient Line of Dagworth; the Honorable Cuthbert Carstons, Head of the Ancient Line of Eorsyn and holder of the proxy of the Ancient and Noble House of Black; Lady Hannah, Baroness Tinworth Regent of the Ancient and Noble House of Abbott; Lady Susan, Baroness Airwryn Regent of the Ancient and Noble House of Bones and Lord Neville Longbottom, Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom, Earls of Colne, Pendle and Marston, Barons of Halden Moor and Tulhume, Peer of the Realm. Presiding Justice of the Queen’s Peace: Lord Harry Potter, Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, Earls of Finchley, Hereford, Abengale and Hwicca; Baron of Loch Sheen; Peer of the Realm and before whom this Court is duly convened!”

“Be seated,” Harry said taking his seat and those throughout the room did so. “The Manor Court of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter stands in session, convened this 18th day of September in the year Nineteen Hundred and Ninety-Three and in the forty-first year of the reign of Her Majesty Elizabeth the Second, by the Grace of God Queen of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, Head of the Commonwealth of Nations and Defender of the Faith. All with business before this Court draw forward and ye shall be heard!”