Part 19
On Sunday, Professor McGonagall carried an old-fashioned radio into the Great Hall during breakfast and announced a listening hour for those who were interested in following the public session of the Wizengamot.
"The session, which Headmaster Dumbledore will moderate in his function as the Chief Mugwump of the Wizengamot, will start at ten in the morning, an hour from now," Professor McGonagall said. Her Sonorus Charm easily reached even the furthest and most tired students. "Everyone in the Great Hall will be required to be quiet. Drinks and snacks will still be served, but do try to keep the noise down. Anyone not complying will be removed at once and receive detentions from each of the heads of house besides. Thank you for your attention."
Snape scowled, his dark eyes sweeping over the students as if daring them to cross him.
"I think she should've said that this is history in the making," Hermione said to Harry and Neville. "During the last four centuries, only three impeachments were actually realized, although nearly ten times as many have been called."
"Why so few?" Harry wondered.
Hermione grimaced. "The rest of the Ministers died, either mysteriously or due to outright murder."
"Not all the rest," Neville interjected. "I think two managed to abdicate before that could happen."
"Right." Harry gulped down his tea. "Seems like this will be interesting."
"To say the least." Hermione took a sip of her elf berry juice. "I just hope that Lord Black has covered all his bases."
Harry refrained from reassuring her and instead finished breakfast and got the last of his homework out of his bag. Sweetie and Blue were sleepily flicking their tongues at his fingers. The tiny zing of magic that sparked between them caused their two siblings, who had wound around Harry's arms, to stir as well.
"Oh, you haven't finished DADA yet?" Neville asked, following Harry's example and placing his writing utensils and a couple scrolls of parchment onto the newly cleared table. "I thought last week's assignment was easy, for a change."
"That's why I kept it for last," Harry confessed. "I needed much longer for Tuva's essay."
"I've got Ancient Runes," Hermione said. "Too bad our partners in class are in different houses; we could've checked our work."
"Why don't you just go over to the Ravenclaw table and ask?" Neville asked. "I think they'd like that, especially Padma."
"Yes, she told me that she wants to do more for that class," Parvati encouraged Hermione.
"I don't know ... no one else is sitting with a different house." Hermione bit her lip. "What if they send me away? Most of them are still eating anyway."
"Oh, really." Parvati huffed, got up and marched over to the Ravenclaw table. After a few minutes of conversation she marched back, Padma and Lisa Turpin in tow. "Here you go. Have fun! I'm going back to my coffee and croissants."
Padma smiled shyly. "Thank you for thinking of it, Hermione. It is really okay, Harry? Neville?"
"Sure, there's room enough." Harry scooted a little closer to Hermione. "Sit down. Lisa, you can sit next to Neville. Are you also doing Ancient Runes?"
"Yes, actually. I'm a little hung up on that last problem."
The girls quickly sat down and placed their things. All five of them ignored Ron's annoyed scoff and Ginny's envious comments. With less than an hour to go before the start of the Wizengamot session, they were eager to get the homework out of the way.
To Harry, it was definitely a pity to hear Professor McGonagall call for quiet because the discussion after finishing their written parts had been inspired. Not even Zabini boldly squeezing in next to Padma could put a damper on his mood.
"What?" Zabini asked when the whole table stared at him, slack-jawed. "McGonagall will kill me if I walk over to the Slytherins now and I really need some breakfast."
"Silence!" Professor McGonagall called in just that moment, causing Zabini to smirk. "Herewith the first extraordinary session of the Wizengamot in more than a century and a half begins."
She switched on the radio and sat back down.
After a short bit of music, an announcer repeated almost verbatim what Professor McGonagall had just said, finishing with, "This live broadcast will be recorded and made available to every witch and wizard in Magical Britain. For the small fee of five knuts you can get your recording orb at the Ministry of Magic today. Don't miss this opportunity to take a piece of history into your home! And now ... I give you the Wizengamot!"
Applause sounded from the radio and Harry realised that a public session actually meant an audience. And that audience was apparently all for getting the show on the road.
"Thank you," Dumbledore said, "And welcome to Magical Britain's twenty-eight's preliminary impeachment session. A word before we begin. This meeting does not intend to judge the current Minister for Magic. As the magical citizens of Britain have called for Minister Fudge's impeachment, this is now Minister Fudge's chance to defend his position. I therefore ask that his speech not be disturbed. Failure to do so will be fined with fifty galleons and the immediate expulsion from the session. And now I give you Tiberius Odgen. Members of the Wizengamot, please rise."
Another round of applause sounded.
"Thank you, thank you," an audibly wizened wizard said. "Members of the Wizengamot, dear audience, take your seats." The rustling of cloaks and robes could be heard. "We have assembled today to hear the call for Minister Fudge's impeachment. Author of this call was none other than the Wizengamot's own Chief Warlock, Albus Dumbledore. Due to that conflict of interest, it falls to me as the oldest sitting member of the Wizengamot to read the call and moderate this session."
Harry tensed as Odgen cleared his throat. "They sure make it exciting," he whispered to his friends.
Zabini rolled his eyes and popped a piece of bacon into his mouth.
Odgen continued, "To give all of the esteemed citizens of Magical Britain the whole plea, I will now read Headmaster Dumbledore's letter to Minister Fudge in its entirety.
"Hogarts, October 21st
To the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge
To all members of the Wizengamot
To the citizens of Magical Britain
Subject: Call for impeachment
Dear Magical Britain,
It is with great sadness that I write this letter today.
After Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban prison last July, the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has taken several questionable steps to ensure our public's safety, the worst of which certainly was the deployment of Azkaban's most terrible guards to Hogwarts. The dementors, who know nothing of kindness or compassion, promptly went on to accost the students on the Hogwarts Express on September 1st in their quest to find the escaped convict. Several students, as well as half a dozen aurors, were in grave danger that day due to the dementors' close proximity. All witnesses have reported that no supervision was on hand, and neither were they provided sufficient warning.
Furthermore, the dementors have since repeatedly tried to breach Hogwarts' wards, and taken to hovering near the Quidditch pitch, which is the closest public spot to the ward line and a popular space for the students to spend their free time. We can be thankful that nothing more than mild dementor exposure was the result of this foolishness!
From the first, students, their parents, and the teachers have loudly complained about your decision to station creatures of such malevolence around our beloved Hogwarts, and how could they not? It is known and verified that the Azkaban escapee you seek no longer resides in Britain, but has sought refuge with Gringotts in Italy. By now the whole magical world is aware of the fact that Sirius Black is planning on submitting to ICW justice. Your persistence to keep the dementors at Hogwarts regardless is therefore gross child endangerment, as well as endangerment of the magical public.
To prevent unnecessary harm or deaths, I herewith call for Minister Fudge's impeachment so that a wizard or witch of better moral values may take charge of our country's present and future dealings, as well as our children.
Thank you,
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."
The Wizengamot and its audience were silent for a minute, clearly digesting what they had heard. Then a man requested a second read, slower this time and with a small pause between paragraphs. Odgen was happy to comply, and afterwards called Minister Fudge to the stand to respond to Dumbledore's letter.
"Thank you, Wizengamot Elder Odgen, thank you," Fudge murmured as he climbed the few stairs to the wooden stand. He didn't sound particularly worried, even if he was a little winded from walking the short distance.
To Harry, it was amazing what he could take away from the proceeding without actually seeing anything.
"For those in our audience and among the listeners I shall explain that the Minister has two choices now," Odgen said. "First, Minister Fudge can acknowledge the accusation and immediately abdicate his position, or he can refute the claim and call first for a Wizengamot vote, which would be done today, and second for a public vote, which would be called on November 13th, a Sunday. Now, Minister, which will it be?"
"I refute Dumbledore's claims, of course," Fudge announced, and the audience began to talk amongst each other almost immediately.
"Order," Odgen called and banged a gavel. "Very well. Please state your reason or reasons for doing so now. Be advised that your statement, if found to be untrue, might be sufficient cause to remove you from your current positon."
"I understand," Fudge said in a clear and strong voice. "Dear citizens of Magical Britain, it is of course true that Sirius Black has left the country. However, my reason for keeping the dementors around Hogwarts are legit in that there might be a man at large that could pose just as great, if not even greater a threat to Britains magical and muggle citizens as Sirius Black. The name of that man is Peter Pettigrew and after reviewing Black's old case file, the DLME now has reasonable cause to believe him to be still alive and in cahoots with Black."
A storm of shouts erupted, both in the Wizengamot and in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Knowing that calling for order would be futile, Odgen as well as Professor McGonagall let them rage. It was terrifying and sounded a lot like an angry mob would get up any second, pick up torches and pitchforks and maraud through the streets of London in a search for convenient victims.
"That disgusting, slimy man!" Hermione screeched. "How dare he!"
"Hermione! Calm down," Padma said urgently, tugging her down again.
"I can't! I'm so angry," Hermione raged. "That man deserves to fall into a lake filled with slimy eels and get roasted!"
Harry put his arm around her shoulders. "Sounds very good, but you breaking a vessel won't help anyone. It's okay, 'Mione. We knew Fudge would try something like this."
"It's not okay," Hermione replied with barely controlled fury. "And he'll pay for it."
"He will," Harry agreed. He gratefully accepted Neville's solemn nod and Dean's awkward pat on the shoulder.
Finally Odgen managed to call for order, banging his gavel like a handyman dosed to the gills with pepper-up potion and a gallon of coffee.
"Now, this information certainly is volatile," he said dryly. Harry imagined him giving Fudge a hard stare. "What are your sources? And why did this fact only get out now? Lord Black was in your custody for twelve years, Minister Fudge."
Fudge cleared his throat pretentiously before speaking. "After Black broke out of Azkaban in July, we received a couple of requests for his trial transcripts. As the case was so old, it took a while to unearth them."
Hermione's bitter, "Bullshit!" was heard in the whole hall, but none of the teachers reprimanded her for it, not even Snape. At least Malfoy's absence ensured that no slurs were being called.
"Once it came to my personal attention, it became clear that the case hasn't received the attention it deserved by the former administration," Fudge went on. "Black had apparently named Pettigrew as the true secret keeper of the Potters upon his arrest and in fact accused him of betraying the Potters."
Another round of shouts drowned out Fudge and Harry ground his teeth to keep his calm. It was infuriating how that man used the facts to suit his own purposes.
"Now, Peter Pettigrew has been declared dead twelve years ago, and that's what I, personally, still believe. However, we still do not the full truth about what happened that night, so Pettigrew mightindeed have been the secret keeper, no matter how unlikely it may seem. He might even be still alive, if we decided to go there," Fudge said soothingly. After a smug little pause, he added, "Regarding the public's ire about my stationing the dementors at Hogwarts: If Pettigrew truly were still alive ... wouldn't it my job as Minister to ensure that this whole, confusing affair is investigated fully, and your children protected? Peter Pettigrew received an Order of Merlin posthumously, for Merlin's sake! No, I say, I have to do my very best to protect you good people, even if I have to chase shadows and ghosts to do it."
"But why use dementors of all foul things?" a witch demanded. "Isn't fugitive apprehension what the aurors and hit wizards are trained for?"
"It might seem extreme to the casual observer, but considering that Pettigrew might be Black's accomplice, I've decided to leave nothing to chance," Fudge answered slickly. "After the last blood war, we simply cannot afford to lose more witches and wizards to the machinations of You-Know-Who's followers. If our children are a little uncomfortable until this crisis is resolved, I'm prepared to take my lumps for it. Thank you."
Boos sounded as Fudge stepped down, and imprecations were shouted from the more furious visitors and members of the Wizengamot. Likewise, the students in Hogwarts erupted into shrieks of anger and colourful curses.
Odgen once more called for silence and immediately after asked the members of the Wizengamot to cast their vote. In the tense minutes it took to count wands, no one in the Great Hall spoke.
When Odgen finally spoke, the words boomed like a thunder clap in the silence. "With thirty-two votes to forty-three, the Wizengamot does not support the vote of no confidence."
Shrieks of absolute fury echoed out of the loudspeakers and were more than matched by most of the students. A lot of the teachers looked to be close to a rage themselves, although they held it together admirably.
"However, there is still the public vote to consider," Odgen cautioned once the excitement had died down a little. "With the Wizengamot voting no, the public will have to vote yes with at least a three quarter majority to make the movement stick." He cleared his throat. "Citizens of Magical Britain, I ask that you make use of the time given you to ponder your choices and vote as your conscience, and yours alone, dictates. This vote is compulsory for all witches and wizards who have reached their majority. It can be cast easily anywhere and anytime. Directions to that end can be found in tomorrow's edition of the Daily Prophet. The ICW will provide oversight to guarantee a fair, free, and secret vote."
Harry tuned out Odgen's goodbyes and instead concentrated on deep, even breaths to control his anger. While Sirius had warned him that the Wizengamot would most likely vote against the motion, it was still infuriating to actually experience it.
"Typical of the old pureblood geezers to support the Minister. Fudge should spend a week at Hogwarts and see how it is to have those monsters float so close by," Katie Bell fumed. "He'll so get a howler from me!"
"From me as well," Fred and George said unisono, an unholy grin on their freckled faces. "We might be able to find a way to fool the mail ward. Everyone who's interested, follow us!"
Nearly half of Gryffindor rose at one and ran after the twins while the students at the other tables took their time. Slowly they left the hall, most of them eager to write scathing letters and record ear-shattering howlers, all the while discussing Fudge's statement heatedly with their friends.
"Okay Harry," said Parvati when their group of friends was more or less alone at the table. "Fudge's counter to Dumbledore's call was ..." She hesitated and grimaced. "It was bullshit, but it also made sense. What's going on there? Why did he unearth Peter Pettigrew of all people?"
"It's a long story," Harry mumbled. "Hermione's on it."
"For the Herald," Hermione clarified when everyone stared at her. "It's top secret, unfortunately, so you'll learn about it with everyone else."
"But it'll be epic," Lavender guessed. At Harry's small nod, she slumped a little and exclaimed, "Merlin's beard. How much can Hermione reveal without pissing off the ICW?"
"Enough," Hermione said and grinned a little when Seamus and Dean hooted and drummed their fingers on the table. "Seriously, Dumbledore was the one to bring it up; he's the Chief Mugwump of the ICW, even if he had to recuse himself from the trial due to conflict of interest. He should've known better. The other judges will be so furious with him. Thanks to this manoeuver, the seal on the press is as good as recinded." She frowned. "He must've wanted to achieve exactly that, but I have no idea why."
"I can't think of a reason either," Lavender replied thoughtfully. "Other than an epic, international mud fight, of course."
"It could be an attempt to hurt Mr. Black's case to save face," Colin Creevey piped up. "Or maybe the headmaster thinks that Mr. Black is evil after all? I mean, if Pettigrew were truly still alive, it could be as Fudge said."
Runcorn half a dozen seats away snorted derisively and Lily Moon said, "Not bloody likely."
"Even if Dumbledore did believe that Lord Black were guilty, it's not his place to intervene in this manner," Hermione said, nodding at the exasperated, normally quiet girls. "If Dumbledore's so concerned, he can let law enforcement do their job and then let himself be called as a witness once the trial has started. Doing what he just did is underhanded and cruel. He knows that Sirius Black is Harry's godfather. His family. Every single piece of evidence so far points to Lord Black being innocent, right?"
"Right," Neville said firmly, the others nodding in agreement.
"I suspect that Dumbledore wants Harry back under his control - be his magical guardian, but for real, not just as his proxy," Hermione went on. "I can only assume that he wants control of his money and maybe even his magic - a true magical guardian can impose medical treatments and certainly wouldn't be fined for using magic on a ward. It's expected of guardians after all in the event of accidental magic or injury."
"I feel sick," Harry muttered and shuddered.
"I would too, in your place," Lily said shortly. "Nothing against Lord Black, but in case the trial is not open and shut in your favour, you better hope that the whole things goes on until after you've reached your majority, or you might get royally shafted after all."
"It's only two more years," Runcorn added. "Last of your line, you can claim your title at fifteen."
"True," Zabini said. He ate the last of his eggs with practiced elegance. "Though a magical guardian can prevent it - if the Wizengamot and the Department of Wizarding Child Services agree with the guardian's petition."
"But only after the ward applied for it at Gringotts, otherwise heirs would be prevented from applying since birth," Parvati chimed in. "But that's a topic for another day. Write a rehash of everything we know so far, Hermione. That way, people can get the full picture, especially about Dumbledore's shady actions. And I know you hate it when reporters do it excessively, but it's okay to finish an article with theories and questions, even if it's a lot of questions. In this case, they all need to be asked. Harry needs Lord Black to be free, and I don't see why we shouldn't be partial. Harry is a student here, after all."
"I can't wait to see the old goat's face when he reads that article," Runcorn muttered. "Make it a good one, Granger."
She and Lily got up and left the Great Hall, holding hands.
"She's so weird," Seamus told the others.
"But she's got a hot girlfriend," Zabini smirked. "I'd say it works for her just fine."
Harry couldn't help but grin with him while the girls all rolled their eyes.
"Anyway, this edition of the Herald will probably net us thousands of galleons," Lavender said. "International press will be desperate to pick up our articles, so what do you think should we do with that money?"
"Should we really make plans for money we don't have yet?" Dean asked dubiously. "And also, what do we really need? Aren't we set up pretty well already?"
"Well, for one there's the matter of funds for partners and sources outside of Hogwarts," Hermione began. "Not every expert is willing to give interviews for free. Then there are private investigators and outside reporters who'd be willing to work freelance on our behalf."
"Alright, I can accept those," Dean admitted, "but I thought the goblins would've thought of that already?"
"They have," Lavender said, "but that fund is tiny right now."
"The goblins definitely encourage us to become self-sufficient, so earning money for better equipment and support is a must. We'd have a hard time with normal school stuff, but right now nothing about Hogwarts is normal. We stand a great chance at filling our coffers for later, largely thanks to Harry, so it isn't that far-fetched to make a few plans now, as long as we don't dream too big."
Zabini tipped his imaginary head at Parvati. "Well said, Miss Patil."
Parvati's cheeks flushed a little. "The problem is that Lavender and I would love to have a house elf exclusively for the paper, because it could help full time and wouldn't be restricted to the castle and the grounds. But Dumbledore probably won't loan us one from the castle, and we can't bind one for this purpose either. The poor thing would be miserable without a proper master to bond with."
Harry glanced at Hermione and gave a small nod. Her whole face lit up in a lovely smile and she pressed against his shoulder in a substitute for a kiss.
A few minutes later, when they were out and walking towards Hagrid's hut, Hermione gushed, "This will be the perfect assignment and a stellar recommendation for your house elf service!"
"I'll write Sharptooth and ask what payment he thinks is fair. I guess I can give the Herald the mate's rates, but not by too much. People probably wouldn't take me seriously if that got out."
"And everyone and their grandmum would probably try to claim a special friendship with you," Hermione agreed. "It's not fair to you; just because you're young doesn't mean you're not trying to establish a serious business. You don't need to give adults another reason to treat you condescendingly."
"I'll find out, and I'll find the perfect elf for the Herald," Harry promised. "Maybe it can be my Christmas present to you all."
"You give the best presents," Hermione said, kissing Harry's cheek.
Patting the bag where he'd stored a dozen dead weasels, Harry said, "I'm sure the hippogriffs over there will all agree with you."
oOo
In the afternoon, Harry had an intense correspondence with Healer Williams. Harry's heartfelt thanks for keeping Sirius company were gratefully accepted, but a sense of guilty shame drifting from the written words brought up Harry short. It niggled at him weirdly and made him squirm a little, but as there were no danger vibes, he decided not to touch that one and instead go right in and make their two projects the topic of their discussion.
I met Hagrid yesterday and he made no mention at all of finding me reptiles to talk to - again, Harry wrote, still feeling a little miffed about it. I think Dumbledore really discouraged him after I told Hagrid that I don't want to write a paper or book or whatever with Dumbledore. I could look for some myself, I guess, but it'll be winter soon and most of them will go to sleep. I don't have the first clue where to look, and I wouldn't want to wake them just for this anyway.
It's not a huge tragedy, Healer Williams replied in his calming way, although it would've been a lot easier to have local reptiles on hand for your first trials. Gringotts is very tolerant right now and even curious to learn whether your talent could be cultivated in other parselspeakers, but sooner or later asking for favours will test their patience. That being said, I've asked and received permission to send a gold-horned field lizard this evening. It's native to Albania and Greece and a friendly fellow, at least he presents himself as such. His kind are generally not aggressive.
Sounds great. I hope I can talk to him at least a little. Do you have the questionnaire ready? In truth, Harry wasn't exactly looking forward to Healer Williams' extensive list of questions regarding the possible dialect of his reptile of the week, but he understood the necessity. Hermione, while not a linguistics expert, had nonetheless been able to explain the scientific method somewhat as it pertained to languages.
Nearly, but what I have will do for now. You can always fill in the last points later, Williams replied. Thanks for indulging me, Harry. I know that this is not your favourite thing to do, but as my family works with several other reptiles besides snakes, I'm eager to find out how we can improve our relationship even further. And never mind the possibility for advancement in the parsel community! Did you know that no known parselspeaker has a reptile familiar other than a snake? Not a single one?
Well, if the language is the problem, that could change, couldn't it?, Harry wrote. Or is it more of a magic thing?
You probably mean magical compatibility, and yes, it is nearly universally assumed that it has something to do with it, Williams admitted. After all witches and wizards have enjoyed the company of many different kinds of familiars, most of them non-speaking, for millennia. Why parselspeakers are so limited in their ability to bond to reptiles specifically has been accepted as a natural quirk of our affinity.
But that doesn't make sense, Harry protested. Hermione told me that there are beastspeakers, they can talk to all animals.
The echo of a chuckle drifted away from Williams' written words.Don't be offended, it might just be one of those things. We conduct these experiments to find out whether the ability to communicate will have an impact on our ability to work and bond with reptiles in general. Magical affinity between human magicals and magical reptiles might well increase with better communication and there's no telling what it will mean for our community. One thing's for sure: Once you're ready to go public with your discovery, people will probably go crazy.
Harry shook his head about Brady's enthusiasm. Or nothing more happens and all we've got is a huge headache to show for it.
I don't believe that, Williams answered, his letters sweeping and bold. They oozed confidence, which did a lot to make Harry feel better. You can already communicate with one species of magical reptile, and I'm convinced that our findings will be of relevance to the world.
Speaking of relevance, I've got a favour to ask, Harry scribbled reluctantly. It still felt odd to ask for favours, even if he had gotten better at asking for help. The snake guardian for Slytherin's library is bored. Do you have snakes that would like to talk to her? She likes the snakelings just fine, but they're a bit young to stay down there for long without someone watching out for them, and I guess the conversation isn't all that titillating just yet.
Harry grinned and stroked Sweetie's little head when she came out of his shirt sleeve to gnaw reproachfully on his knuckles.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but Audovera is very educated and probably yearns for a good debate partner," he told her. "Give it a year or so and you'll probably be more than a match for her."
Sweetie pouted. "I don't like being young, Harry. Siblings and I want to be helpful."
Writing began to appear on the page, but Harry pushed the journal away and gave Sweetie his full attention.
"It's good, being young," he said a little wistfully, resuming his gentle strokes. "You're protected and loved and can discover everything at your own leisure. When you're bigger and stronger, people will probably ask you for lots of favours, so enjoy it while you can."
"Harry loves me," Sweetie hissed smugly.
Blue poked his head out of Harry's collar, tickling him in the process, and demanded, "Harry love me, too!"
Sweetie flicked her tongue at her brother, which prompted Blue to flow out of his warm hiding place and give Sweetie a swat with his tail.
"Hey, none of that," Harry said, alarmed. "I like you all very much. Goldie and the quiet one, too. Please don't hurt each other."
Blue hissed huffily and pressed his small head against Harry's pulse point. A jolt of magic passed between them, something sulky and yet elated. "Gold sister will leave eventually. She can help the favourite. I want to help Harry."
"Then you can help me find cousins of yours to talk to," Harry tried to appease him. "It will probably be boring, but I could use the company."
"I won't leave for a long while yet," Goldie said imperiously. "I'll help choose good snake cousins for Harry to talk to. First brother will threaten them with bites so they'll behave."
Right on cue and like a little thug, the quiet brother appeared on Harry's other wrist, managing to look menacing without actually doing anything.
"And you, Sweetie?" Harry asked, hopelessly charmed by their support. "Will you help Blue and I when we meet them?"
Sweetie returned her brother's smack with one of her own. "Of course I will, Harry. We're small, but the world is big. I want to know many cousins. I also want to read many more books."
"I still can't believe that you know how to read," Harry confessed. "I see you do it all the time, even my protected journal, but ... how?"
"Magic," Goldie hissed smugly. "Our mother was the basilisk and had collected a millennium's worth of magic, so we're very magical. We understand all speakers and read all books."
Something stalled in Harry's mind and he needed a moment to shake the shock off. "Hold on, really? You understand all humans? And read all books? In all languages?" he asked dumbly. "You let me translate Sirius' letters!"
"So we could all learn to do it. We learn fast. Now there aren't any books we aren't able to read," Blue said. "Most are too thick, though. It's boring. And we lack context."
"Human speech is hard. We get pictures and impressions, mostly," the quiet male offered. "It might get better as we age."
Harry felt weak in the knees even sitting down. "That's not normal, though, or is it?"
Goldie scoffed with a sharp little hiss. "Of course not. We're unique and beautiful."
Harry placed all the snakelings onto the desk before him with trembling fingers and then rummaged through his book bag for the copy of Slytherin's journal. He opened the book and pointed at the text in parsel.
"What about this?" Harry asked. "It's super old, like, a thousand years or so. Why hasn't Brady shown you this already?"
"The favourite locks his treasures away," Goldie informed him. "Goblin contract and oath to you make him do that."
Then all four snakelings cocked their heads for a minute and took the pages in.
"Not very interesting, Harry," Sweetie finally declared. "It's about boring potions to heal great dragon sickness. Audovera already told us that the Slytherin speaker liked to invent those. I'd much rather read things about our magical brethren! Audovera says that there were many kinds on the grounds during the time she awoke. Her master often brought them for visits."
"We'll search Slytherin's library soon, I'm sure he must have written about them," Harry promised. He felt a little light-headed at the snakes' revelation. "Let me just ... I need to tell Brady about this. Oh, boy."
"I told you that we are helpful, Harry," Blue hissed with supreme satisfaction. He returned to Harry's right arm and slowly wound himself around, like an ornament. "We are the best."
"Except for Dobby and his friends, you're probably right," Harry said on an exhale. "Wow. That's really a huge surprise."
"Go on, tell the favourite," Goldie ordered. "If he asks, I'll help him read his book. He'll give brother and I lots of magic to feed on in return."
"You send more books soon, Harry," the quiet brother said. "Sister wants the favourite to be happy, and the favourite really likes your silly books."
"I will." Harry scooped the snakes up and gave each of them a little kiss onto their heads, letting as much affection bleed into it as he was able. "Thank you."
"Harry is always welcome," Blue said as he wallowed in the dancing magic on Harry's skin. It lit up his blue highlights and amber eyes and even made his grey, shiny skin a little translucent. It was odd to be able to see his tiny ribs and beating heart, and it touched Harry deeply to see him as the fragile little thing he was.
"Yes, always," Sweetie echoed the sentiment. She butted her tiny snout against Harry's cheek, tickling him with her sweet, childish love.
"You're terrible," Harry murmured as he cuddled and petted them all. "Brady will wonder what's up with me."
Soon enough, however, all the snakelings were back to curling around his arms and neck, favouring his natural warmth over a charm, and Harry went back to his journal. Healer Williams had answered his request for visitors for Audovera with a promise to send Portos and Snake along as soon as Harry could spare a house elf.
You're taking on a lot of social responsibilities, the healer continued. This is, of course, a good thing. However, I want you to remind yourself occasionally that you are, in fact, a young teenager who's going to Hogwarts to study magic and its use, and not a fully grown and educated head of house who has nothing to do all day but take care of his family. You need to take care of yourself, too.You have Sirius and Sharptooth and your house elves now to take care of part of your obligations.
I do, Harry quickly wrote back. And I understand, honest. But this is Slytherin business. It feels necessary. Audovera protects Slytherin's most important work, so she should get something in return, even if she's a magical construct and not a real snake.
Do you think she might be sentient?, Williams asked. Has Slytherin's magic woken her up?
Harry pondered that for a moment, absently petting Blue, who was once more wound around his neck. I don't know, he finally replied. Might be. She remembers everything we've talked about so far, and knows a lot of stuff from Slytherin's time. Does that mean she's alive, then?
Good question. Look up the definition of life and get back to me, Healer Williams wrote back. Where Magic is involved, one can never be sure when the line has been crossed. It is said that some magical creatures are purely the product of human artistry and Magic's gift. The hippogriff comes to mind, or the sphinx.
Speaking of gifts ... Harry swallowed. Lord, it's crazy, so I'll just say it: the snakes can read Slytherin's books. All of them. Apparently they can ready every book, in every language, and yes, they proved it to me.
A huge ink blot suddenly appeared on the page, and a magical stream of curses echoed through the Come And Go Room. Harry reared back in shock, only to break out into loud laughter a second later.
That's not funny, Harry!, Williams haphazardly scratched into the journal. If you want to prank me, find something else to do it!
Harry hiccoughed. He picked up his biro and shakily answered, It's not a prank, geez. I wouldn't do that to you, and neither would they.
Williams' writing leaked remorse, coupled with stunned disbelief. I apologize to all of you, but Merlin, Harry! Warn a guy!
I did!, Harry protested. Why won't people believe me when I tell them something?
Because it's unbelievable, Brady returned. Because if what you've just told me is true ... you have no idea, no idea at all, what kind of gift you're about to give to the world.
If you need proof, Goldie and her brother agreed to read your Slytherin book to you, so I guess Dobby will bring them back soon. You can use their translation as a control for the translators Sharptooth engaged. It might make the work easier, Harry wrote, a little huffily.
A few more drops splashed on the page from Healer Williams' end until the next bout of frantic writing appeared.
Harry, having the snakelings help in our effort won't just make the work easier - we will be able to develop a translation charm and cut the amount of work down to almost nothing. The snakes would be our Rosetta Stone; they're literally the key to Slytherin's secrets and mysteries. That's what's so incredible - such things normally don't just fall into one's lap!
Well, this thing did, Harry answered, still a little hurt from Brady's incredulity. Maybe Hermione's right about the stupid Harry Potter Factor (TM).
She just might be. But do you know what? I'm glad in this instance. Slytherin's basilisk was unjustly corrupted and killed, but we can do right by her by treating her offspring like the treasures they are, and do as much good with Slytherin's legacy as we can.
There was a pause and then Williams continued, I know that all of Slytherin's secrets are secrets of your magical house and therefore yours to use in whatever way you deem fit, but I solemnly vow that I'll render whatever assistance I'm capable of offering. You only need to ask when, or rather if, you're ready to explore your options.
Harry exhaled and frowned.
They're not the secrets of the universe, he wrote back, a little furious with Brady's willingness to pledge yet another oath. And even if they were, I still wouldn't keep them back if they can help someone. It's when, not if, so thanks for offering your help. I'll need it when the time comes.
Can you Floo call me?, Williams asked.
Confused about the nonsequitur, Harry nonetheless got up, went to the fireplace and tossed a handful of Floo powder into the merry flames. They promptly turned green and lost their heat. "Gringotts, Healer Brady Williams' office!"
"Step back, Harry, I'm coming through," Williams said, and a mere moment later he stood in front of Harry, staring at him like some sort of wonder of the world. "Can I hug you?"
Harry flushed, a little embarrassed and a lot surprised. "Er, sure."
With a gruff sigh, Healer Williams swooped in and enveloped Harry in his strong arms. "Thank you, Harry. And please forgive me for doubting you. I probably should get used to the fantastical when it comes to you."
"What are you thankful for?" Harry mumbled as he clutched the man as tightly as he dared with the snakelings on him. He felt guilty for liking it as much as he did, especially since he was missing Sirius fiercely and wished that he could hug him as well. "All I'm really giving you is a ton of work and responsibility. Dunno how you can find that great."
"It just is," Williams laughed, a little breathlessly. "Really, thank you. Since I've met you, almost every day is a surprise and a wonder. That you trust me so much is a gift in itself. I won't ever abuse it if I can help it, and you will let me take as many vows to that end as I deem necessary - without discussion."
"Brady," Harry complained.
"No, let me say this. It's important." Williams took a tiny step back and cupped Harry's shoulders with his warm hands. "Everything we're discovering in Slytherin's library is yours by right. It's your magical legacy now and it is your magical duty to do right by your ancestor's accomplishments, even if Slytherin's your family by right of conquest. Your need to care for Slytherin's most important magical guardian proves it. People will have to take extensive and intrusive vows to protect that legacy, it's normal and expected, so please get used to it. I certainly don't resent you for it, Harry."
"But I don't want you so ... beholden to me," Harry muttered. "You're my friend."
A smile lit up the man's face. "Yes, I am. It's kind of unprofessional, but that's exactly why I've given my healer's vow to you. It prevents me from doing you harm, be it out of maliciousness or love. It'll let me know when I can no longer be objective as your mind healer, so please don't worry about that aspect of our relationship." His smile softened a little. "When Healer Spleenbash asked me to submit my file for your perusal, I never imagined what taking you on as a patient would mean for my future."
Goldie unwound from Harry's arm and climbed over to Brady, neatly slithering up to his neck and settling there.
"It meant us," she hissed proudly.
"You're part of it," Williams agreed. "But certainly not all, love."
At Harry's dubious look, Williams explained, "Since the summer, I've helped with warding a wild garden with Malijar's Gift for ward stones; more or less illegally taught you charms and spells; watched four lovely death adders born of the oldest basilisk in existence hatch and grow; taken up the investigation of a possible case of family magic abuse; and now there's all of this frankly game-changing research you're allowing me to be a part of. It's ..." He sighed deeply. "It's magical. And I haven't even known you half a year, yet. What's more, I don't think you can really grasp the significance of it all. You're still so very young."
"Not too young not to know when I'm in over my head," Harry said stubbornly. The flush burned hotly on his face. "Without you and Sirius and everyone else I'd do nothing at all. It was just luck that Gringotts heard of the basilisk and wanted to buy it. Heck, it was only luck I managed to kill it in the first place."
"Luck is a part of life," Healer Williams said soothingly. "In no way does luck devalue your accomplishments. Dumbledore's phoenix helped in your fight against the basilisk, yes, but you still managed to defend your own life and that of the Weasley girl. You did that, no one else. You earned the good things that came of it."
Harry searched the man's face. "You really think so?"
"Yes, I do. More than the gold and the frankly priceless books of Slytherin's library you've earned Dobby's loyalty, the goblins' support, and the affection of your friends and these four little rascals. All of these, especially the positive relationships that you've formed so far, are the makings of a successful and happy life, and you deserve to have that, Harry. So much. Please don't ever doubt that."
"Everyone deserves a happy life," Harry mumbled, suddenly shy and a little uncomfortable with all the praise. He looked away from Brady's all too sincere face and focused on Sweetie's little head on his wrist.
"And you're certainly working towards that goal," Williams said with a grin, pulling Harry into another, nearly giddy embrace. "Seriously, I'm very grateful for all the professional opportunities you're throwing my way. If you keep it up, I'll have to beg for mercy because I simply can't take any more without resorting to extensive use of a time-turner. If I had myself as a patient, I'd kick my ass for even thinking about it."
Harry laughed. "Okay." He burrowed into Williams' chest. "I wish Sirius could be here."
"He misses you so much," Healer Williams sighed. "I'm fairly certain that this room is shielding my presence from Dumbledore, but it'd be foolish to risk your father's life on that assumption. It's nearly November, only two more months until you can see each other again. You can do it."
"It's much harder than I thought, having a family to come home to," Harry confessed. "I never really understood why people get homesick."
"But you do now," Williams said softly. He ruffled Harry's hair. "And do you know what? That's good. That's very good, even."
"Why? I feel miserable," Harry complained. After taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the hug and hunched up his shoulders. "Sometimes I wish I wouldn't feel like this."
"That's understandable," Healer Williams assured him. "When it gets bad, remind yourself that you've found an adult you can love. You've found a father who cares for you so much that he broke out of the worst prison in the whole magical world. It's not your love or your trust that hurts you, it's the separation."
"But isn't that kind of the same thing?" Harry asked, still frowning.
"Do you remember our first talks?" Williams countered the question. "You told me that you felt incapable of trusting adults because no one ever helped you when you needed it. Now, only three short months later, that has changed, mainly because you've decided to take a chance and allowed it to change. Feeling the pain of separation means that you're healing, and that pleases me very much. So no, it's definitely not the same thing."
Harry frowned. "That's good then, I guess, but I still don't like feeling like a firsty."
Williams laughed warmly. "Oh, I don't imagine you do. But you're only a couple of years behind, so I'd say you're doing great catching up with your friends. Besides, I'm a lot older than you and I still get homesick every now and then."
"You don't feel silly?" Harry asked. "It's normal even for adults?"
"Not in the least, and yes. What you're feeling is absolutely normal, even if your circumstances are anything but," Williams promised. "I know that you're doubting yourself often due to your less than optimal upbringing, and wondering where you fit in, so this is me telling you that you're doing just fine, and getting better every day."
Harry exhaled noisily. "Okay. I don't really feel like it, though."
"It'll take time to get there," Williams said, "especially now when so much is happening at once. That's normal, too. Just take a moment every now and then to reflect and it'll be fine."
Harry nodded. "I can do that when I train my occlumency."
"Good, but do me a favour and try to find other moments for it, too, so it won't always feel like work." The dinner bell tolled, causing Healer Williams to sigh. "I'd better go."
Harry hesitated for a second but then went ahead and said, "Can you give Sirius a hug from me, Brady?"
"If that's really alright with you," Williams replied, grinning. "I'll take any excuse to pop over there, you know. The goblins in Italy serve excellent tiramisu, and your father is a fantastic host."
"I know, Dobby sometimes brings me some for dessert," Harry admitted. "Sirius is right; it's definitely a reason to move over there." He huffed. "I wish I could just go."
"Wouldn't that be an adventure," Williams said a little wistfully. He hugged Harry a third time. "There, I'll give your father this one. He'll like it. Oh, by the way, Hermione's parents have contacted me and given permission for me to cast the parsel discretion ward on her. She'll receive a letter to that effect in the next days, but I thought you might like to tell her right away."
"She'll be relieved after what Malfoy tried to do to her," Harry said. "The Malfoys' first offer of weregild will arrive on November first. Mr. Finch said that it will most likely be insulting, despite his warning not to do it."
"That's the way of noble families," Williams said. "Not just here, the world over, I'm afraid. Hermione's blood status will be reason enough for them to try and devalue the trauma she suffered, but your lawyer is very good and will help Hermione's parents settle the issue to their satisfaction."
"As long as Professor McGonagall keeps Malfoy away from us, I'm not worried." Harry smirked a little. "In fact, I'm sort of looking forward to them sending a shoddy offer."