Chapter 10: The March To WarNotes:I've edited the first conversation, so hopefully, it's easier to read.
Also, brace yourself, Vernon gets what's coming to him.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextWith the Dragonstorm Citadel now firmly in the hands of Harry Potter, alongside Keeper Ragnok, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin, he could begin preparing for the battles to come. Reviewing his memories, this Quadrumvirate agreed that with the Quidditch World Cup Finals in two weeks, it was best to use the time they had now. Discussing their plans over a magnificent dinner prepared by the house elves (who had been shown how and where to buy supplies they didn't immediately have access to by Dobby) they agreed to a battle plan.
Harry led the conversation, taking his first bite of roast Auroch. "So for the next two weeks, until the 16th, I'll be staying here with Sirius and Remus. I can use that time to train and exercise, getting back into form for the inevitable riots."
"Remember to visit Diagon Alley pup. You never know what you may find there that can be useful."
"Granted, but I don't want to take too many chances. If I show my hand early, we've got a whole slew of problems to deal with."
"We need contingencies planned for that possibility. You said Professor McGonagall was there for your new wand?" Remus sounded like he was a professor again, speaking calmly and with authority.
"Yeah, along with two first years. I doubt they'd pose any risk, but Minerva could be a problem."
Ragnok, who had been thoroughly enjoying the variety of meats before him, decided to chip in on this point."Don't underestimate Dumbledore. The man is a master of Legilimency. If he thinks they have answers for him, he won't hesitate to invade their minds for them."
"Shit, he's right pup. Better be careful around them if they end up in Gryffindor. But that still leaves Minerva. Do you have a plan for her?"
"I'm not entirely sure. She did help us in the original timeline, and I'm confident she was questioning Dumbledore. The problem is most of that was done years later when he was already a rotting corpse. I don't know how she'd react to all of this today."
"If it's any help, while I was a professor, she admitted having doubts about where Dumbledore placed you."
Harry's head snapped in Remus' direction. "Really?"
"Indeed. She was the one who watched the Dursleys before you were left with them. Needless to say, she wasn't impressed. Whenever she tried to bring up the matter of your wellbeing, Dumbledore would brush it off with reassurances that you were 'where you were safest.'"
"So concerned enough to ask, but either not enough to check herself, or he somehow interfered with her whenever she did."
Remus could only shrug his shoulders. "It's possible. I know she doesn't like doubting Dumbledore, but that doesn't mean she's a blind follower. Give her enough reason to doubt him, and she'll come around."
"If I might get us back on topic, what happens from the 16th onward?" The goblin philosophy of 'time is money' is still applied at dinner conversations.
"In the original timeline, I got a letter from Molly and Ron on the 16th, saying they'd come and get me the next day. The World Cup Finals are on the 18th, so that'd be my main focus. Everyone'll be too distracted by the game to ask me questions I don't want to answer."
"After which, the Death Eaters will start their little riot, and the Dark Mark will be cast."
"Right, but before the Mark appears, I'll be confronting the Death Eaters. Between my knowledge and newfound power, it'll be an easy matter bringing them down. I don't remember the exact number of Death Eaters, but I know Lucius is one of them."
"What about Narcissa?" Given that her husband was part of Voldemort's inner circle, Sirius had always wondered if Narcissa took the Mark.
"No. She might be fine with pure-blood supremacy, but she was never given the Dark Mark like Bellatrix was. More to the point, however, the ones I capture will be given a trial, during which I'll be required to attend as a witness, considering I'm the one that brought them in."
"And that allows you to speak with Director Bones about getting a trial for Sirius." Remus wasn't much of a chess player, but teaching Defence let him see the moves before they were even made.
"Exactly. Before that though, I'll need to write a letter to her, probably under a pseudonym, so she begins taking an active interest in your case Sirius."
"I guess it makes sense pup, but why the pseudonym?"
"We can't be sure whether or not Dumbledore has spies embedded in the Ministry, specifically the DMLE. If Madam Bones gets a letter from me stating that you're innocent, and I have proof, she'll want to take immediate action. Furthermore, because I'm, technically, only 14, I'm not sure how inclined she'll be to listen to my warnings about being careful."
"Fair enough, but then why the wait?"
"Because Fudge is an idiot."
A shark-toothed grin spread across Ragnok's face at that. "HAH! No argument here, but I think you need to be more specific."
|Fudge may not be a blood bigot, at least not when compared to some of the Dark families. But he's easy to manipulate. Lucius and all the other free Death Eaters evaded justice by claiming to be bewitched, and they've been funnelling him money for years now. The connection between him, and a twice-caught Death Eater, will begin to tank his reputation, at least whatever reputation he has. He'll start looking for something that can save him, something that lets him say with some credibility he knows what he's doing."
"And getting me my trial, after being wrongfully imprisoned for 12 years, will go a long way towards that."
"That's right. He'll jump on the chance to 'right a wrong perpetrated by the previous administration' as a means of boosting his credibility. Before Voldemort returned, I saw him as a well-meaning, but bumbling politician. His connection to Lucius will make him seem far worse than bumbling. But freeing an innocent man? No Death Eater or sympathizer would ever dream of that."
Moony was nodding along, seeing how Harry had planned this out. "Quite Slytherin of you Harry. I'm rather impressed."
"The Hat did consider putting me in Slytherin, but I asked it not to."
"Lily said something similar."
"My mother was almost put in Slytherin???"
"The Hat sensed her desire to prove herself, especially as a Muggleborn in a time when they were given a difficult life. But it placed her in Gryffindor when she told it proving herself meant nothing if she wasn't brave enough to do the right thing."
"When did she tell you this?"
"Around the time we found out she was a Parselmouth." Sirius had been watching the back and forth with a grin, remembering happier times.
"She was a Parselmouth!? And you knew!? How??? When???"
"The 'when' is when she was pregnant with you. It might have been her hormones or the fact that I almost knocked a bookshelf onto the family cat, accidentally mind you, but she was very angry and all of a sudden went from yelling at me to hissing at me."
Ragnok was rather confused by this part of the conversation. It wasn't like wizards to be subtle about a rare ability, especially one they were born with. "Why did it take so long for you to learn about her Parseltongue abilities?"
"Unfortunately the ability to speak to snakes is associated with Dark Magic, mainly because of notorious Dark wizards like Herpo the Foul and Voldemort. It was quite a shock, though mainly because it's a hereditary ability."
"And how exactly did you handle it?" This was definitely not something that Harry had learned about while these two were still alive.
"Well, while we were in shock Lily realized what had happened and locked herself in the master bedroom. It was about a week before she would speak to us again. Before she said anything we assured her she was still our friend, no matter what."
The loyalty Sirius and Remus showed to the late Lady Potter was rather impressive to Ragnok. But then, he had an idea. "If you're interested, Heir Potter, I can give you a Heritage Test at Gringotts. If it truly is hereditary, we might find something we could use going forward. Especially if you never took one in the future."
"Sounds like a good idea. Now, as for the school year..."
After a magnificent dinner, Harry had unfortunately been required to return to the Dursleys. Fortunately, when he returned, the house was quiet as everyone had gone to sleep. Taking advantage of the quiet, he packed his trunk with everything he would need, from clothes to school supplies. With everything he needed to be packed, he went to sleep, eager to start the next day, knowing he would have two weeks of freedom from the bastards Dumbledore stuck him with.
Waking the next morning, he put on fresh clothes and shrunk the trunk with a thought. Pocketing it, he prepared to head downstairs when he heard something he hated without reserve.
Vernon's voice. "HARRY POTTER! GET DOWN HERE NOW!"
Of course, he decides today he has a problem with my absence.
He'll have an absence of limbs if he tries anything.
Remain calm. I doubt he'll try to stop me when I tell him I'll be leaving.
Heading downstairs, Harry noticed the lack of sounds coming from the kitchen. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he realized the bellowing came from the sitting room. Sure enough, Vernon and Petunia were seated in the chairs while Dudley sat on the couch. Dudley had a smug look on his face, a proper shit-eating grin that was begging for a supremely savage curse to be launched at it. Petunia just had her typical scowl, the kind that one made if they were forced to smell something, particularly fowl. Vernon, on the other hand, had his regular sneer painted on, the kind he showed to everyone he wasn't trying to butter up.
Deciding to have some fun with this, Harry strolled into the sitting room, standing in the centre with the curtains closed. "You bellowed?"
Vernon's face went beet red at the sheer audacity he had. "You've been shirking your chores, boy!"
"Have I? What a shame."
"The garden needs weeding, the floors and dishes need washing, the tables need dusting, and the carpet needs vacuuming."
"My, that is quite a list."
Vernon was losing what little patience he had. "Get to it, boy! You can forget about breakfast for your lip, so no lunch until it's all done!"
"I don't think so."
Vernon looked like he'd just been smacked. "Excuse me!?"
"Oh dear, are your ears clogged with hair and fat? I said I don't think so."
Vernon was glaring with unimaginable fury. He wasn't used to being insulted, let alone challenged by someone he held authority over. His voice became dangerously quiet. "You watch your mouth, boy, or you'll be spending the summer in the cupboard."
Harry wasn't afraid. Instead, he was angry at the threat. "I am not your slave, fat man. I have other plans, and I'll be gone until the 16th. Find someone else to do the dirty work. I'm sure the horse you married is used to it. Or maybe your pig of a son can do it. I'm sure the exercise will do him a world of good."
At that, Vernon stood up, completely red in the face, his mustache twitching uncontrollably. Dudley was stunned by the display, as was Petunia. Since when did Harry have the nerve to not only defy them but insult them to their face?
"I've had enough of you, boy!" He reached out to grab Harry, by the collar or by his hair, but it would be his biggest mistake.
ENOUGH OF THIS!
Fueled by a sudden surge of rage, Harry grabbed Vernon by the wrist and squeezed with all his newfound strength. Vernon's sudden cries of pain drowned out the sickening crack of his wrist bones being crushed.
"And I've had enough of you, Vernon."
"Why you little freak! How dare-"
Whatever Vernon was about to say, be it a threat or insult, was cut off by a howl of pain as Harry twisted his wrist, and pulled his arm in. He wasn't finished with this wretched excuse for a man. Goliath was roaring in rage, and Harry could feel it fueling his own. As Vernon got closer, Harry lifted his right leg up and stomped on Vernon's right knee, shattering it completely and bringing him down to his knees. His face was as red as an overripe tomato now, and his piggy eyes were scrunched up in agony. His voice would be filling the air with screams, but with his free hand, Harry grabbed him by the throat and squeezed.
He could still breathe, barely, but wasn't able to do more than that.
"Now, that's better. Much more pleasant without that unpleasant bellowing."
Petunia was shocked and terrified, unsure of what to do. Dudley, rather than sit and watch, had risen from the couch, no doubt preparing to do something violent. Before he could, Harry shot him a murderous glare, irises beginning to glow with power fueled by hate.
"Don't even think about it, fat boy. You and your father have given me more scars and broken bones than I can count, and I'm just dying for a chance to pay you back."
He sat down without a word. Now he looked as terrified as Petunia, realizing the dangerous situation he found himself in.
"Now that I have your undivided attention, I'm going to make things crystal clear. First, I'll be gone until the 16th. I won't be setting foot in this house before then. After, I'll be staying just long enough to be picked up by some friends. I won't be back for the rest of the summer. In fact, I hope to never set foot in this vile house ever again. The only thing stopping me from leaving this place, and never looking back, is the man who abandoned me here with you vile lot.
"The night my mother died, her love for me invoked an ancient and powerful magic that protected me from her murderer. That magic is powered by blood ties, so for that reason, and that reason alone, I was left to your non-existent mercy. You, Petunia, because of your blood relation to my mother- yes my mother, not your sister-are why I have been forced to endure your endless cruelties. But that ends now.
"I tell you this because next year, everyone who has threatened me, the Dark wizards that have been hunting me, and the insane murderer that made me an orphan. By this time next year, each and every one of them will be dead and buried.
"And as for you Vernon," Harry lifted Vernon into the air with one hand around the blubbery throat, "if you ever call me a freak, or look at me in a way I don't like, then so help me, you'll be JOINING THEM!"
With that, Harry threw Vernon across the room, towards the couch. Dudley ducked out of the way, expecting his dad to land on the couch with a heavy thud. Instead, Vernon went straight through the wall into the dining room, crashing into the table and chairs, and shattering them under his massive weight. He rolled just enough to be clear of the wreckage that once was their furniture.
With a wave of his hand, he silently cast Reparo, restoring first the table, then the chairs, and finally the wall itself. Then, he simply Portkeyed away.
Over the next few days, life at Dragonstorm proceeded at a steady, if sedate pace. The first day had been dedicated to concealing the power his wand radiated. No easy feat, considering by Ollivanders description, this wand was equal to the Deathstick itself. Buckbeak had certainly taken to his new home, spending his days flying across the island and sleeping in the magical menagerie the house elves restored.
The house elves had been rather busy restoring the Citadel to its former glory. The buildings were being repaired in record time, and within five days, Redtooth proudly informed Lord Harry Potter that Dragonstorm Citadel was properly restored. To celebrate, the elves produced a marvellous feast, and courtesy of a description provided by Keeper Ragnok, made magical banners depicting the symbol of the Potter Family, that were promptly hung around the Citadel.
Remus, on the other hand, had been able to secure a second-hand wand for Sirius, one that would suffice for training purposes. He had decided to focus on bringing Sirius back up to par. Sirius, for his part, found himself in agreement, and the two of them could be found spending hours in the duelling arena.
The first few times had gone relatively poorly for Sirius, given he was adjusting to the new wand. But after landing flat on his ass after a few sessions, enough rust had been knocked off of him to keep up with Remus. By the third day, he'd been able to end most spars in a draw. By the fourth, he was on even footing with Remus. It was impressive to Harry, to see his godfather getting back into proper form. He would never forget that day in the Department of Mysteries, but where once his death dominated his memories of that day, now memories of him duelling that bastard Dolohov to a standstill.
It was then he realized Sirius had never been able to retrieve his original wand. Even in the original timeline, he had proven himself a competent, and capable, if somewhat reckless duelist. He wondered just what Sirius' fate would have been had Dumbledick actually gotten him a pardon.
And that gave Harry his first idea.
Madam Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was not looking forward to the coming year. It was frustrating enough with the events of the previous year.
Sirius Black, a notorious mass murderer, and someone Amelia loved quite deeply, had escaped from Azkaban. To make matters worse, that fool Fudge, rather than increase her budget to train more Aurors for deployment across Britain, had instead resorted to using Dementors. DEMENTORS! She couldn't decide whether this was Fudge being stupid in a desperate bid to appear determined, or if Lucius had whispered the idea in his ear, hoping the abominations would get rid of his rivals.
Not that they had done much good, considering he'd made it all the way to Hogwarts with only the occasional sighting! Then, to top it all off, he'd apparently been captured by Severus Snape, only to escape that same night! Fudge had been quite desperate to keep that little bit of information to himself, considering the embarrassment it ensured. But one did not become a Department Head without being determined, and Fudge had cracked under her withering glare.
Now, here she was, returning to her office after a meeting with Fudge, Ludo Bagman, Albus Dumbledore, and her former mentor and predecessor, Bartemius Crouch Sr. That idiot Bagman had somehow convinced Fudge, Dumbledore, and Crouch to bring back the blasted Triwizard Tournament! The whole point of ending that insane competition was because of the death toll! Oh, but Bagman was promising, there would be 'restrictions' in place. They wouldn't be taking any 'unnecessary' risks with safety. This was coming from the moron who talked about quidditch statistics around Muggles like he was discussing the weather!
She could hardly believe that Crouch had signed off on it, though thankfully he seemed in favour of a compromise she had proposed. To help ensure there would be no 'unnecessary risks' they'd all agreed that no student under the age of 17 was allowed to put their names into the Goblet of Fire. She was grateful that Crouch was in favour of it and immediately voted in support of the motion. Fudge had been willing to support her, though she suspected that was mainly because he didn't want to risk angering her so soon after Sirius Black escaped.
Bagman and Dumbledore were another matter altogether. Bagman had been upset, talking about the spectacle that they were potentially missing out on. She had expected this, he was only interested in creating an exciting show, but he'd come around, no doubt convinced the age restriction meant fewer blocks on his ideas going forward. But Dumbledore's reaction had been concerning. Of all the people in that room, she had expected him to support her motion the most. Yet, he seemed the most reluctant. When pressed, he merely stated that many students would not be happy, and would no doubt try to find a way to circumvent that rule, hoping for the glory the Tournament promised.
He'd come around when he realized it was all but unanimous, brushing off her questions as merely him 'thinking aloud' but that did little to assuage her concerns. The entire time Susan, her own niece, had been at Hogwarts, she'd been hearing unusual things. There were rumours about a professor dying during her first year, albeit at the end, yet Susan claimed to have no knowledge of who it was, or even how it happened.
Then came her second year, and despite Dumbledore's efforts, word had reached the families of students. Students were being petrified!?!? And there were no clear suspects!? Oh, Fudge had arrested Rubeus Hagrid, but anyone with a brain could tell you it wasn't him, regardless of the record. The man was simply far too gentle for that, more interested in finding new ways to tickle creatures, than matters of power.
It sounded like the students had their suspicions, but Susan had kept quiet about them. Whenever she pressed the subject, Susan had clammed up, like she was embarrassed, or even ashamed, to admit who the suspect was.
In any event, by the end of the year, the petrifications had been stopped, and whoever truly was guilty had been dealt with. That little stunt pulled by Lucius seemed to have backfired. By the end of the school year, he went from chairing the Board of Governors to being sacked for threats made against the other members. It was only thanks to his 'friendship' with Fudge that she wasn't able to drag him before the Wizengamot for said threats.
Now she was going to have to deal with a deathtrap masquerading as a Tournament, at the very school her niece was attending. No, this was not going to be a good year.
Nodding to her secretary, she headed into her office, bracing herself for the nightmare that was about to begin... when she noticed she had a visitor. It was Tibia, the Bones Family house elf.
'What was she doing here?' She thought to herself. That was when she saw Tibia was holding something, a letter of some sort, and in a brief moment of panic she feared something had happened to Susan. Before she could voice such fears, Tibia stepped forward holding the letter out.
"Mistress Bones, Tibia asked to give you this letter by another house elf. Tibia made certain it was safe."
Thanking Tibia, Amelia graciously took the letter. Looking it over, she wondered who would try to contact her in such a manner. She noticed the letter was sealed, with the wax forming the symbol of a dragon holding an hourglass, a dragon that seemed oddly familiar. Then she opened it and had many more questions.
Madam Amelia Bones
I am grateful you have taken the time to read this letter, especially considering the unusual circumstances regarding its deliverance. I do wish we could meet in person, but as I'm sure you'll discover, there are many threats within the Ministry that seek to ensure my demise or my enslavement.
We have yet to meet, at least formally, and while I cannot guarantee when we shall meet, events are conspiring that will allow us a chance to meet in person, where I promise that all shall be made clear.
As a token of my good intentions, Madam Bones, I offer some information you will find quite interesting. Go to the Evidence Lockup for the DMLE, and search for any evidence related to crimes committed on 11-01-1981. You will find one of two things: a wand that doesn't belong, or a wand that contains proof.
Tell no one of this correspondence Madam Bones, for others wish to keep this information secret. The house elf Tibia knows how to contact me.
I await your response.
The Dragon of Time
For a few moments, Amelia did nothing. She simply stared at the letter, uncertain what to make of it. Before she did anything else, she called for Tibia.
"Mistress Bones calls for Tibia?"
"Tibia, I need to know, can you get in contact with the sender of this letter?"
"Tibia can, through fellow house elf. He didn't give his name, or masters, but said master who wrote the letter was 'kindest and greatest of wizards.'"
'Well, that rules out any former Death Eaters' Dismissing her with a thank you, Amelia read the letter again and found the request to search for evidence interesting. But that date, it was so familiar to her. 11-01-1981, that meant November 1st, 1981. The only crime she knew of that occurred that day was... oh no.
Without hesitation, she left her office, informing her secretary she needed to handle something of great importance, and made her way to Evidence Storage. If what this 'Dragon of Time' was implying held up, she would be very interested in further correspondence.
Taking a day to explore Diagon Alley, Harry hadn't been certain what to expect from this day. Of course, that was part of the fun. Diagon Alley had plenty of shops, shops that he hadn't thought to visit in his life, thanks in no small part to always being against the clock with his visits. It didn't help that he was always so uncomfortable with people watching him, considering the life he had led up to that point.
Now, he didn't really give a damn what the crowds were looking at. A smile here, a friendly nod there, and people were quite happy to simply observe and not act.
Turning a corner, he noticed a store he hadn't visited before. In fact, he was fairly certain he'd never even seenthis store. 'Tim's Tents and Trunks: Everything the camping wizard needs.' Curious about the new store, he decided to take a chance and went inside.
Upon stepping through the door, he was treated to an impressive sight. The store had the look of an old-fashioned hunting lodge, but instead of hunting trophies were large enchanted portraits of landscapes. Everything from a forest in deep winter, to a picturesque scene of a waterfall, to even the open plains. Lining the walls were shelves, each with boxes that were about as long as a broom, and thick as an arm. The floors in front had a variety of trunks, many of which looked like school trunks, while others had a more rugged and outdoorsy appearance.
In the center of it, all was a round dais, about four feet in diameter. One would think it was a display stand, but there was nothing on it. Harry must have paused at the sight because someone with a gruff voice remarked "It's for helping customers pick their tent."
Turning to the voice, he saw the source, a middle-aged man with a scruffy beard, and claw marks reaching from his left eye down to his chin.
"Wait a minute... are you, Harry Potter???"
"I am. Forgive me, but I don't think I've been to this store before."
"Then allow me to give you the introduction. The name's Tim Baker, owner and proprietor of Tim's Tents and Trunks. We specialize in creating enchanted tents for the adventurous wizard, along with various trunks for school and exploration."
"Enchanted tents sound interesting, but those trunks, especially if I can use them for school, sound especially useful."
"Thank you, though I'm especially proud of the tents. Unlike some, these ones provide all the comforts of home, without violating the Statute of Secrecy."
Thinking back to the World Cup, Harry grimaced as he remembered the extravagant tents that were clearlymagical. "I know what you mean. I don't think subtle is a word wizards use very often."
"If at all! But I'm getting off track. Are you interested in anything?"
Last time around, the main tent had been provided by Arthur, while the girls had slept in a smaller one. And more importantly, those trunks could prove useful. Deciding to indulge himself, he agreed to see Tim's stock.
One thing was clear, Tim took this work seriously and was bloody good at it. Every tent he showed had been impressive, and the trunks were practically miniature vaults. After spending an hour in the store, he eventually decided to purchase first his own tent. This tent was an impressive demonstration of Tim's skills. From the outside, like any other enchanted tent, it appeared as a normal tent, but upon stepping inside it turned into a two-story lodge, fully furnished, with eight bedrooms, three bathrooms, a dining area, and a fully functional kitchen.
When he eventually began exploring the forests on his island, this would definitely be useful.
Best of all, the tent automatically came equipped with Disillusionment Charms, Notice-Me-Not Charms, and a variety of other security measures that automatically activated as it was being set up. Arthur would be disappointed, but he'd be impressed by the work that went into this.
After finding his chosen tent, he decided to buy a new trunk, one that would come in handy during the school year. After viewing his options, he settled on the 7-compartment trunks, which included a portable library, and reinforced vault. Various add-ons cost extra but offered to include them for free in exchange for an endorsement from Harry. He agreed, and after taking a few pictures in front of, and inside his tent, Tim added a self-cleaning function, fire and waterproofing, reinforced strength, password protection, the auto-shrink function, and a 'Glacius Box', the magical version of a portable mini-fridge.
Well, that was interesting.
The trunk makes sense, but did you need the tent too?
Why not? You never know when it'll come in handy. Plus it'll annoy Ron to bring it.
I'd rather just kill him, but anything that makes him unhappy works until then. Now, time to grab new clothes, you may not get another chance.
If Madam Bones were a lesser witch, she would probably be having a mental breakdown, or at the very least a panic attack. Taking a chance, she decided to investigate Evidence Lockup personally, eventually finding the drawer that contained all the evidence connected to the apparent death of Peter Pettigrew. Except when she opened it, there was indeed, a wand that didn't belong there. She'd known Sirius since their Hogwarts days, and she recognized his wand when she saw it, and THIS wand wasn't it.
Deciding to investigate further, she had this wand checked to see which spells it had last cast. Turns out, this wand was guilty of a lot, with all three Unforgivable Curses being used at least once. Needing further answers, she called for assistance and gave the Aurors assigned to this room the task of finding a very specific wand. She didn't tell them who the wand belonged to, only the description, including the core.
After three hours of searching, the wand was finally found. Checking it personally, she found the last spells used were cleaning charms and defensive spells. This wand hadn't been used for aggression, let alone something that could cause an explosion capable of killing a dozen people.
Thanking the Aurors for their help, she immediately returned to her office and penned a letter to this 'Dragon of Time'
Dragon
I've gone through the evidence, as you suggested and found something most disturbing. The wand of a supposed mass murderer was not only kept in the wrong storage area, but it had nothing! Nothing that indicated it had ever been used for murder, let alone a mass slaughter.
I don't know who you are, but I'd like you to answer something: How is it, that this wasn't entered as evidence during Sirius Black's trial??
Madam Amelia Bones
When she summoned Tibia to deliver her letter, she sat and waited. She wasn't sure how long this would take, but she wanted answers, and she wanted them yesterday. Fortunately, this 'Dragon' agreed, sending a reply almost right away. But to Amelia's shock, the letter was a scrap of parchment, with one sentence.
There never was a trial.
That had been what nearly sent her over the edge. Sirius Black had been in Azkaban for twelve years, imprisoned without trial!? Finally managing to calm herself, she began to think. Millicent Bagnold had been Minister, while Bartemius was Head of the DMLE. Why had they done this??? Bad enough they denied him the right to a trial, but now it appeared he was innocent! What could possibly motivate them to do this? And... Albus Dumbledore. He was Chief Warlock then, and still was today. If anyone could get Sirius a trial, it was him. But he didn't. He abandoned Sirius in Azkaban. Why???
The Quidditch World Cup Finals were days away. She had until then to investigate. Afterwards, she would get her answers, or there would be hell to pay.
The two weeks had gone by so fast. It barely felt like anything. But Harry had gotten much done in that time. His training had given him a new kind of focus, one that he hadn't had in his old life. Now, he was more than a match for Dumbledore, or Voldemort.
Remus and Sirius were in their prime. Even with the effects of the Wolfsbane Potion, Remus could easily handle himself in a fight with Death Eaters. Sirius was still somewhat hindered by the lack of his original wand, but he was easily comparable to his Department of Mysteries self. God willing, he'd get his wand back, and Bellatrix wouldn't stand a chance.
Saying his goodbyes, he grabbed his belongings, and returned to Privet Drive, with one thought in mind.
There is no turning back.
Arriving in the early morning, he heard a tell-tale knock at the door. Answering the door before anyone else could, he found himself face-to-face with the postman. Just as before, he handed over the letter from Molly, the one that had too many stamps. Like before, he thought it was funny, but this time Harry shared a laugh with him, chalking it up to her being, a little ditzy. He then received the letter from Ron, and burned it to ashes, while Goliath gleefully imagined it was the sender.
Beyond that, the day went by quickly, and quietly. Vernon wasn't anywhere to be seen, while Dudley and Petunia were quiet, almost civilized to him. It was frankly unnerving to imagine them ever treating him like a real person.
Then, the 17th came. Harry sat in one of the chairs in the sitting room, staring at the fireplace. He was absentmindedly thinking about how the rest of the day would go. He thought about the twins and their business, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. He thought about Bill, Charlie and even Percy. He also, reluctantly thought about Ron and Molly. The git would try to get chummy with him, while Molly would try to mother him while plotting how best to slip potions into his food.
But then his thoughts were interrupted by someone else walking into the sitting room. He already knew who it was.
"If you're going to try killing me Petunia, I hope you brought something big."
She never said a word, simply sitting down in the other chair. Then came Dudley, walking slowly but surely towards the couch. Like his mother, he simply sat down and said nothing.
The seconds ticked by, turning into minutes as the appointed hour drew ever closer. Then Petunia spoke, in a voice that could barely be called a whisper.
"Do you really hate us that much?"
Harry didn't even bother looking at her to respond. "You have to ask? I didn't realize I was being subtle."
"That night... you didn't just lose..."
Harry's head snapped in her direction. "DON'T. DON'T YOU DARE."
Petunia looked back at him, terror in her eyes, but also something else... defiance, perhaps. But fueled by what?
"Don't you DARE tell me I didn't just lose my mother, and that you lost your sister. You lost her long before I was born. How many times did she try to start a conversation, only to be called a freak to her face? How many times did she reach out to you, trying to connect to you, only for her hand to be spat on? Never mind that, how many times did you insult her memory while I was growing up? All my life, you've made it abundantly clear, she wasn't your family, and neither was I. She was a mistake, and I was a burden."
The words seemed to have an effect, as Petunia looked down at her lap, at the wall, outside, anywhere but Harry. He wasn't sure, but he swore he could see what looked like tears falling from her.
"You're going after the people who killed her?" Dudley spoke up, but this time his voice was subdued, docile. Like he had just realized he wasn't the one in charge anymore.
"Yes. I'm going to find them, and I'm going to make them pay with their lives."
Dudley didn't respond, he simply nodded his head.
Then, they heard Arthur's voice coming from the electric fire. Just as before, he couldn't get through but was curious to see the electric fire for himself. Only this time, he decided he would try something.
"Arthur, hold still. I'm going to try something. If it works, you should be able to come through no problem."
Drawing his wand, he tapped the four corners of the fire, and whispered "Ut porta cursus." With that, the fire expanded to become as tall as Harry, and a green fire sprung to life, as Arthur, the twins, and Ron, stepped into the sitting room.
"Ahhh, thank you, Harry. That was quite impressive, whatever you did. Have to show it to me sometime. Ah, and I understand you are the Dursleys. Petunia, and Dudley I believe? Where is the other one, Vernon was it?"
Before Harry could say anything, Dudley of all people, came to the rescue. "Hospital. Got in a car crash. We just stopped by to see Harry off."
Harry was stunned. He'd been prepared to offer some contrived reason for Vernon's absence, only for Dudley to offer a reasonable explanation that covered Harry. This was definitely new territory for him.
Of course, Arthur wasn't entirely sure what a car crash was but understood it must have been bad, offering his sympathies before sending the others back through the Floo. Harry went along with them but made sure to grab the Ton-Tongue Toffee on his way out. Dudley had earned that much of a reprieve.
Minerva McGonagall sat in her office at Hogwarts. With the Quidditch World Cup tomorrow, Albus would be expected to make an appearance. Because of that, she'd been swamped with extra paperwork, and not just the standard paperwork for the beginning of a new school year. This time she got extra work because Hogwarts would be hosting the Triwizard Tournament. But her mind kept going back two weeks, back to when she had ended up meeting Harry Potter while in Diagon Alley.
That meeting with Harry Potter had been an interesting one. She was proud of him for his behaviour with the first-years, even more so when he paid for their wands and books simply because he could. She'd been astounded when she saw his new wand, and was eager to start the new school year, if only for the chance to see it in action.
But in Flourish and Blott's, they'd had a conversation that had stuck with her.
"You wish to drop Divination, Mr.Potter?"
"Yes, and take up Arithmancy, or Ancient Runes."
"I've seen the schedule for this year, and if you're interested you can take both."
"Sounds good."
"It will be done. Frankly, I'm quite pleased you've decided to take more serious subjects, Mr.Potter."
"That response is exactly why I'm dropping Divination."
"I beg your pardon?"
"It's obvious the staff either, don't respect Divination, or they don't respect Trelawney. If even I can tell, then she can too."
"My lack of respect is why you're dropping it?"
"It's the effects of that lack of respect. She knows the staff don't respect her, so the students probably don't. To compensate, she tries to impress us. Why else would she predict the death of a student every year? Something like that would make us take her, and Divination seriously."
That part of the conversation had been brief, but it had been stuck in her mind for the past two weeks. She thought back on the years since Trelawney had joined the Hogwarts staff. And as she thought, she found herself disappointed by her own actions. She had hardly been welcoming, or even supportive of the woman, and whatever her thoughts on Divination, as Deputy Headmistress she had a responsibility to both staff and students. What did it say about her when people pointed to her as a reason not to respect a fellow teacher?
'Tomorrow,' she thought to herself, 'I shall start acting like the Deputy Headmistress is supposed to.'
That night at The Burrow had been awkward to say the absolute least. First, there were the twins. He'd inadvertently saved them a tongue-lashing from their Howler volume mother, at least for now. Ron had been acting chummy towards him, and Harry had to struggle not to let Goliath take over, and feed the pig his own intestines. The same could be said for Molly, though Goliath had something involving fire planned for her. Seeing Ginny again had been... awkward.
Harry could still remember the life he had once lived with her, but that memory was tainted by the potions that her harpy of a mother had been slipping him the entire time. Bill and Charlie were as fun as he remembered, and Percy was the same jackass he had always been.
But there was one bright side to this visit: Hermione was already here.
The past two weeks, Harry had thought of nothing but revenge, of setting plans in motion that would end with Dumbledore, Molly, and Ron all dead and destroyed, their legacies dragged through the mud as the full extent of their treachery is revealed to all. He had barely spared a thought for the one who had brought him back from the brink and saved him from madness. The one who had always been there for him. The brightest, and most beautiful witch of her age.
He must have been staring, because the twins had decided to nudge him, with gentle reminders that it wasn't polite to stare. Of course, they did the same thing for her, and she went bright red at that revelation.
It didn't help that during dinner, the conversation had turned towards Harry and his new physique. Over the last two weeks, his body had become remarkably toned. It was obvious, thanks to the properly fitting clothes he had purchased, and if the way Hermione and Ginny were looking at him was any indication, he might as well have had an Allure of his own. Considering the jealous glares Ron occasionally shot him, the comparison felt appropriate.
I think I understand how Fleur felt while at school.
I wonder how she will react to our presence now.
One thing's for sure, there is no way she can call me a 'leetle boy' anymore.
After dinner, Harry decided to show Arthur the tent he had bought. Pulling him aside, where the others couldn't see, he had set up the tent, simply laying it on the ground and tapping it with his wand. He had been impressed, but slightly disappointed as he had hoped to use the tent Perkins had given him. He had somewhat perked up when Harry mentioned that because of the size, now Hermione and Ginny could spend the night with the rest of them, though it had been a hard sell.
Then bedtime came, and that brought a whole new challenge, because like before, Harry and Ron were sharing a room. As Ron drifted to sleep, Goliath roared in Harry's mind.
He's right THERE!!! He's barely a foot from you! We can end this here and now!
NO! We can't show our hand now, it's far too early.
He must DIE!!!
And he will! But not now.
FINE. Still, nothing says we can't make him suffer.
Do you have an idea?
With Goliath and Harry both tempted by the prospect of tormenting Ron, Goliath taught Harry a new incantation, one that would prove most entertaining.
"Somnia tua cadunt cum mea voluntate. Voluntas mea fit tua visio nocturna."
Harry had whispered it, and in an instant was transported into the dreams of Ron. What he saw was disgusting to him. Ron's dream involved him sitting on a throne, atop a literal mountain of gold, an oversized Firebolt broom in hand, and a harem of half-naked witches fawning over him. But worst of all, one of those witches was a bimbofied Hermione.
Deciding to have some fun at Ron's expense, Goliath revealed the incantation allowed Harry to control his target's dreams, turning them into nightmares. For the rest of the night, Ron endured endless nightmares of being tortured by harpies, burned in molten gold, and chased through the skies by a monstrous dragon.
Needless to say, he wasn't well rested but was quite happy to be awake when morning came. Conversely, Harry was feeling rather refreshed from a 'good night's sleep' and was disappointed he had to get out of bed.
Just as before, the lot of them, minus Molly, prepared to travel to the World Cup. Before he left, Molly had decided to make her usual offer of handling the book shopping, only to be stunned when Harry replied it was already done. Before she could pester him for his Gringotts key, Arthur had pulled him away, leading the march to the Portkey.
Just like last time, they met up with the Diggorys, including Cedric. Harry remembered how he had been murdered by that traitor Wormtail. This time, he'd live a decent life. Even if it wasn't with Cho, it wouldn't be cut short by the cowardly rat, or his insane master.
Once again, they arrived at the campsite, though this time Harry would set up the tent. When everyone saw the inside they were amazed at the work that had gone into it. Bill and Charlie asked where he had gotten it, hoping they could get a custom one set up for their jobs, with Bill spending time in the desert and Charlie in the mountains, something like this would be invaluable. Percy likewise wanted one, but mostly as a gift for Ministry officials.
The twins were eager to begin exploring the limits of this kind of enchantment. Hermione and Ginny were excited that they didn't have to set up a separate tent, while Ron was silently glaring at Harry the whole time.
Stepping out for a brief moment, he turned towards the stadium, where soon the Finals would be held, and everything would be set in motion.
This is going to be fun.
Back at Hogwarts, breakfast had just been finished, and Minerva McGonagall was making her way to the Divination classroom. Like always, Professor Trelawney had taken breakfast in her office and would be in the classroom during her spare time, 'divining' the future.
'No, I have to stop that!' Minerva had already decided it was time to act the way a Deputy Headmistress should, and swallowed her pride as she entered the classroom.
True to form, Trelawney was at the head of the classroom, with a crystal ball, or Orb as Seer's insisted, though turned with a start at Minerva's sudden appearance.
"Professor McGonagall??? To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?"
"Professor Trelawney, I'd like to apologize."
One could hear a pin drop in the classroom, as neither of them knew what to say next. Finally, Sybill recovered enough to reply. "I beg your pardon?"
"I'd like to apologize for my behaviour towards you."
Trelawney didn't say anything, she simply stared at McGonagall, waiting for her to continue.
"Over the years, I have not shown you the proper respect due a member of the Hogwarts staff, or the subject you teach. Whatever my thoughts on Divination, it was wrong of me to treat you, or the subject, in a disrespectful manner. That I serve as Deputy Headmistress and am responsible for both staff and students, makes my failings in this regard all the more egregious. So for that, I apologize."
For a few moments, Sybill didn't say anything, simply staring at McGonagall in disbelief, until finally, she spoke again. "Thank you, Minerva. That means a lot coming from you."
Nodding at Trelawney, McGonagall turned to leave, when she was asked "Care for a crystal reading? I promise, no predictions of death."
McGonagall looked at Trelawney like she was barmy, but decided no harm would come from humouring her. Sitting across from her, she asked a simple question: What do you predict for the coming school year?
Gazing into the crystal ball, Minerva wasn't sure what to expect, until Trelawney started speaking.
"I see... three students. The first... a wizard, proud and strong, he soars through the skies, seeking to prove himself... now I see... a witch, as beautiful as she is deadly, her voice shall enchant even the most fearsome... now I see a wizard again... but this time, he is kind and humble, loyal to his friends... he shall a thousand voices cheering for him... but he will be ashamed of them, for what they will do..."
McGonagall was somewhat impressed. She'd managed to keep her promise of not predicting death. 'I should have done this years ago.'
"But wait... there's a fourth... another wizard... but this time... he is both younger and older... for time itself has bent to his will... he is strong... powerful beyond recognition.... he wishes not to compete... but he rushes forward... determined to stop a rising darkness... he will... they..."
All of a sudden Sybill Trelawney went ramrod straight in her seat. Minerva was shocked to see her eyes glaze over, and smoke pour out of her mouth. Then came that hollow voice, like nothing Minerva had heard before.
"The three titans march to war. The Phoenix shall blind the world, deceiving it with false light. The Serpent seeks to poison the world, and spread its corruption. The Dragon shall stand against both, and defend all that was, and will be. They shall seek to conquer the Dragon, but they will fail, for they will only know to strike at the Heart. You must stop those blows from landing, Minerva McGonagall, or all shall be lost in endless fire..."
As the last of the words left Trelawney's mouth, she snapped out of her trance, and seemed unaware it had even occurred.
"Oh, dear me, I seem to have lost my train of thought. What were we discussing, Deputy Headmistress?"
"We were just finishing up. Excuse me, Professor, I have something that must be taken care of."
With that Minerva rushed out of the class, and back to her office. There she began pacing the room, thinking over everything she had just heard.
'Was that a prophecy? No, it couldn't have been, could it? A prophecy, one that mentioned her by name! But what did it mean? The Serpent was obviously aligned with Voldemort, but then who was the Phoenix, and who was the Dragon? The only Phoenix I know of is Fawkes, but that couldn't mean Dumbledore... could it?' Minerva was disturbed by this line of thought, but pursued it to the end. She thought back to the decisions he had made that she disagreed with, most notably leaving Harry in the hands of those awful relatives of his. 'If the Phoenix is Dumbledore, could that mean the Dragon is... Harry Potter?'
The more she thought over this prophecy, the more she was unnerved by the implications it carried. By the end of the day, it had dominated her thoughts completely, distracting her from the paperwork she was supposed to complete. By the time she retired for bed, she had one question playing out in her mind, over and over again.
"Albus, what have you done?"
Notes:And there we go! Next up, the Finals themselves and the riots after.
Just in case anyone is upset over the timing of the Finals, I've read about them occurring on both the 18th of August and the 24th. Given what's coming after the Finals, I decided to go with the 18th, if only for the flexibility it gives me.
And finally, sorry for the lack of detail regarding Harry's time at the Burrow. I'm hoping what comes next will make up for it.