Chapitre 340: HPF121-130
Chapter 121
Turning back to the now stunned assembled,
Harry said, "We gave this information to
Minister Fudge, that very night. We also
escorted, not under wand point as he came
willingly, Sirius Black back to the castle -
except for a minor detour in which he and I
were set upon by a horde of dementors.
"Minister Fudge refused to listen to us. He
accused us of heinous acts and of being
confounded. And, with Sirius locked within a
room in one of the towers in the castle,
ordered the dementors be brought in to
immediately Kiss him. Sirius, of course,
escaped yet again.
"Therefore, I flatly accuse the Minister,
Cornelius Fudge, of the attempt to commit
murder most foul of Sirius Black. Even if he
was guilty of any of the crimes he was...
supposedly... accused of, he was captured.
There was no reason for the 'Kiss on Sight'
order to remain. That's why I state its
attempted murder.
"Harry..." tried Ackerman.
"At this time, I am prepared to both offer my
memories of the events, and swear a magical
oath as to the truth of those memories,"
continued Harry, riding over Ackerman's
protests. "I will offer up my magic, my life
and my very soul to make that oath."
Hermione suddenly stood in place and firmly
stated, "As will I!"
Further pandemonium erupted. While
Hermione calmly stood there the noise in the
visitors' gallery surged around her. The
assembled weren't quiet, either.
The Chief Interrogator had to repeatedly
bang his gavel quite a few times before
Madam Bones set off a cannon blast with her
wand.
"Silence!" she snapped, when the noise level
dropped enough for her to be heard. That
stilled most of the rest.
She swivelled her eyes on Hermione and
asked, "And you are?"
"Hermione Granger, Ma'am," Hermione
firmly replied. "As he has told you, I was with
Harry for the entire evening on the night this
all happened."
"Take a seat, for now, Miss Granger," Madam
Bones ordered. Hermione sat down as
Madam Bones turned her eyes upon one of
the other aurors on the floor and ordered,
"Bring out the court pensieve."
Fudge surged to his feet and cried, "There is
no need for this. This hearing is about the
issues surrounding the story in the Daily
Prophet..."
The Chief banged his gavel and snapped back.
"Sit down, Minister Fudge! Interrogator
Bones has the floor and you will remain
silent!"
Fudge, albeit reluctantly, resumed his seat.
He looked panicky, but Umbridge just looked
furious and was staring daggers at Harry.
As the Chief was berating Fudge, the auror
sent for the records re-entered carrying a file.
He took it directly to Madam Bones.
She flicked through it and looked back at the
auror, who stood waiting. "Is this all of it?"
"Yes, Ma'am," the auror replied.
She turned back to the Chief and said, "Chief
Interrogator Fitzwilliam, I have the relevant
file relating to the incarceration of Sirius
Orion Black."
Harry finally had a name for the wizard with
the gavel.
"And is Mister Potter's testimony relating to
Black's incarceration confirmed?" Fitzwilliam
asked.
With a second scan of the file, Madam Bones
clearly said, "I have the record relating to the
incarceration of Sirius Orion Black in Azkaban.
I have the order for transfer of same from the
DMLE holding cells to Azkaban prison. It is
signed by then Minister Millicent Bagnold,
then Head of the DMLE Bartemius Crouch,
and Chief Warlock Dumbledore."
Harry immediately swivelled his eyes to
Dumbledore and glared with hate-filled eyes
at the man. Dumbledore sat there with his
eyes closed and a pained expression on his
face.
"I have a record of the arrest," she continued,
"dutifully filled and signed out by Aurors
Preedy and Watkins."
Looking back at Fitzwilliam she firmly stated,
"There are no other records."
That created a lot of noise from the visitors'
gallery and from among the assembled.
With a pained sigh, Fitzwilliam clarified, "So,
from the records, Sirius Black was arrested,
brought to the DMLE holding cells, and then
transferred to Azkaban where he remained
until he escaped?"
"Yes, Chief Interrogator," she replied.
"Further, the dates and times on the
documentation show that Black was brought
in to the DMLE holding cells at 11:05am on
the 3rd of November 1981, and then sent to
Azkaban at 2:15pm on the same day. There is
no possible way he could have received a
trial, let alone was properly interviewed
within a three hour, ten minute window."
She then turned to look at Percy. "Mister
Weasley," she asked. "Can you please turn
your pages to the day of the 3rd of
November 1981 and inform us of the trial of
Sirius Orion Black."
Percy looked at her for moment before
turning back to his massive ledger. He rapidly
flicked back through the pages until he
reached the day in question. He sat reading
down through the page until he finally
looked back at Madam Bones. "There is no
record of a trial for Sirius Orion, or any other
Black, on that day," he reported. "As a
matter of record, there was no sitting on that
day; Tuesday, the 3rd of November 1981."
Everyone was stunned for the moment,
including the Chief Interrogator. The first to
recover, he demanded, "Do you mean to tell
me that the Minister, Head of the DMLE and
Chief Warlock just decided to skip the whole
trial and threw the man into Azkaban
without even a by-your-leave?!
"Bloody Hell! Even all the supposed Death
Eaters received a trial; even when they
flat-out admitted their guilt!"
"By my order," Madam Bones smoothly cut
in and ordered. "The 'Kiss on Sight' order
against Sirius Orion Black is hereby revoked."
Looking down at one of her aurors she
indicated her and said, "Go directly to the
Department for the Regulation and Control
of Magical Creatures, and remove that order.
Come back when it's done!"
Harry said, "Excuse me, Ma'am." When she
turned her eyes to him he said, "When you
see my memory of the evening of the 9th of
June last year... which will be sworn to by
both myself and Miss Granger as to its truth...
you may be doing a lot more revoking, yet."
With a firm nod back, she turned to
Fitzwilliam and asked, "With your permission,
Chief Interrogator?"
He nodded back and turned to Harry, "Are
you aware of how to extract a memory,
Mister Potter?"
"I am, Sir," he replied.
Chapter 122
An auror came over and extracted the
memory before dropping it into the stone
basin of the pensieve, and waited.
"Play it," demanded Fitzwilliam.
Almost larger than life, the memory played
out in the empty air directly above the
pensieve. Everyone could see it quite clearly.
It started from when Harry and Hermione ran
through the tunnel from the Whomping
Willow chasing after Ron - who was being
dragged by the ankle by Padfoot - and
entered the Shrieking Shack from the
trapdoor, the confrontation between Sirius
and the three students, the arrival of Moony,
the 'unveiling' of Pettigrew, his pleading for
leniency, the arrival of Snape leading to the
escape of Pettigrew, and the chase back
down the tunnel.
Harry did not give them the memory of
Remus in werewolf form.
As soon as it finished, Harry said, "Next
important memory of that night."
While most sat there in stunned silence
thinking about what they'd just witnessed,
the auror returned the memory to Harry.
Harry then thought of the next one. With a
nod to the auror the auror removed it.
This time, it showed Harry and Sirius's arrival
on the banks of the pond running from
dementors, the dementors then circling in,
Sirius's almost Kiss, and the arrival of the
powerful stag patronus.
"There's a second part from another point of
view for that," he said.
A quick switch of memories and the memory
replayed, this time from the opposite bank. It
showed Harry and Hermione hiding behind
the tree, their argument, and Harry suddenly
ducking out and casting the patronus, forcing
the dementors to flee.
"One final memory, Ma'am," Harry stated.
Another memory switch, and this time they
were in the hospital wing. Dumbledore was
arguing with Fudge, Fudge telling Snape
there was an Order of Merlin in it for him,
Fudge not listening to Harry and Hermione
trying to explain to Fudge, before he stormed
out, refusing to listen."
Harry popped his wand out and, before
anyone could stop him, stated, "I, Harry
James Potter, swear on my magic, my life and
my very soul, that the four memories that
were shown here in the past hour are a true
and correct recollection. As I say, so I swear!"
There was a slight flash come from Harry.
Hermione was already on her feet and stated,
"I, Hermione Jean Granger, swear on my
magic, my life and my soul that the
memories of Harry James Potter shown here
in the last hour are a true and correct
recollection. As I say, so I swear!"
A slight flash also came from Hermione.
While Hermione was making her vow, Harry
was pulling up a loving memory. As soon as
she flashed, Harry pointed his wand and,
with a muttered Patronus incantation, cast.
Prongs leapt forth from the tip of his wand
almost glowing gold.
Hermione's patronus, to the shock of them
both, came out as a doe, and joined Harry's
on the floor. Obviously, the bonding had
caused her patronus to change from an otter
to a doe.
Both held them for a moment before
cancelling them.
When both put their wands away, Hermione
retook her seat and Harry accepted his
memory back before he turned back to
Madam Bones and Mister Fitzwilliam.
Madam Bones, not slow on the uptake, again
ordered, "By my order as Head of the DMLE,
the arrest warrant for Sirius Orion Black is
hereby rescinded. Further, by my order as
Head of the DMLE, I declare Sirius Orion
Black exonerated on all charges relating to
the events surrounding the death of James
and Lily Potter and Peter Pettigrew; and of
the thirteen muggles in the London street
when it was believed Peter Pettigrew was
killed.
"Further again, on my order as Head of the
DMLE, Sirius Orion Black's criminal record is
to be expunged of any wrongdoing related to
this matter." With a sigh, she went on, "It
appears all that we know of the events
surrounding the life of Mister Harry James
Potter is not the only lies we thought to be
true."
Harry snorted in amusement and said, "Oh,
you don't know the half of it."
"Pardon, Mister Potter?" asked the lady, a
little confused.
"Madam Bones," he started, "This all came
about because we were here to discuss the
article in the Daily Prophet. That led to the
discussion concerning my rightful guardian.
That person is Sirius Orion Black. First, may I
ask that my guardianship be returned to
Sirius Black? And that he also be recognised
as my rightful magical guardian, and it
be stripped from the man I believe usurped it
from him; Albus Dumbledore?"
Ackerman again glanced at Harry. Only, this
time, he gave him a nod and smile to say he
was pleased with him.
"Now, see here!" Dumbledore spluttered,
surging to his feet. "I did not usurp your
guardianship. I applied for, and was granted,
your magical guardianship, legally."
"Thank you for admitting
that, Mister Dumbledore," Harry cut back.
"Now, did you do it using your office of Chief
Warlock?"
More gavel banging by Fitzwilliam before he
scolded both Harry and Dumbledore. "That's
enough; the both of you!"
When Harry subsided and Dumbledore
retook his seat, Fitzwilliam said, "Now,
concerning your guardianship, both magical
and otherwise; by my authority I return them
to Sirius Orion Black. When he resurfaces he
can file the proper documentation.
"Returning to the matters of the article," he
sighed. "Is there anything within that article
that is untrue, to the best of your
knowledge?"
Harry thought for a moment and replied,
"Not untrue, so much as misleading."
"And what would that be?" asked
Fitzwilliam.
"In the first paragraph it said something
about how, except for what they knew
happened that night, everything else is a lie.
That statement is misleading."
"How so?"
"It implies that what happened 'that night',
as the article put it, is not also a lie," replied
Harry. "That is incorrect."
"Of course," sighed Fitzwilliam. "Sirius Black
was not the one who led
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to your
parent's cottage in Godric's Hollow."
Harry frowned and snapped back, "Sir! This is
a court of enquiry. Use the man's real name,
not that He-Who nonsense."
"I will not say his name!" Fitzwilliam snapped
back. "Everyone knows who I mean."
Chapter 123
"Fine," replied Harry. "Then, I'll use his real
name so the record is straight on this - Tom
Marvolo Riddle."
"Mister Potter!" roared Dumbledore surging
back to his feet again. "I forbid this!"
Fitzwilliam banged his gavel again and
barked back at Dumbledore, "Chief Warlock,
return to your seat and remain silent. You are
not a named Interrogator, here!"
Turning back to Harry after Dumbledore
grumped and planted his bum back in his
seat, sulking, Fitzwilliam said, "I believe it
was Vol-... him... who attacked your parent's
cottage."
"It was," replied Harry. "But, everyone calls
him that silly name that means 'Flight from
death' in French. Vol-de-mort. His real name
is Tom Marvolo Riddle; not that silly French
nonsense everyone calls him."
A lot of shocked and excited whispers had
broken out during the past minute or so.
However, Fitzwilliam sat there just as
dumbfounded as everyone else. Most were
just staring at Harry in shock.
"H-how do you know this?" Fitzwilliam
finally asked.
"He told me," replied Harry. "At least, a
memory of him did. In second year. In the
Chamber of Secrets at Hogwarts."
"That's... unbelievable, Mister Potter," the
man half-gasped. "Everyone knows that
You-Know-Who is dead."
"Really?" asked Harry right back. "Would
these be the same 'everyone' who knew that
Sirius Black led Riddle to my parent's cottage
in Godric's Hollow? The same 'everyone' who
knew that Pettigrew was dead? The same
'everyone' who believed I was growing up in
a loving, wizarding home?
"Really, Sir," smirked Harry. "How much
more information do you need to understand
that everything about me you thought true is
mostly lies?"
Harry turned to Madam Bones and happily
exclaimed, "Memory time!"
Madam Bones sighed, nodded and indicated
one of her aurors; the same one that took
Harry's memories before, to retrieve another.
"Everybody knows that there were students
being attacked at Hogwarts during the school
year of nineteen ninety two ninety three,"
explained Harry. "The Headmaster kept the
school open during that entire time. Minister
Fudge, accompanied by Mister Lucius Malfoy,
turned up at the school and arrested Rubeus
Hagrid for doing it.
"Minister Fudge's reasoning for doing so was
that, the last time the Chamber was opened,
Rubeus Hagrid was accused of doing so; and
killing the Ravenclaw student, Myrtle
Cummings. It did not matter to Minister
Fudge that there was no evidence Rubeus
Hagrid had done anything wrong. According
to Minister Fudge's own words... spoken in
the presence of Lucius Malfoy, Albus
Dumbledore, Rubeus Hagrid, Ron Weasley,
Hermione Granger and myself... he had to
be seen to be doing something. It was
yet another situation where an innocent man
was simply tossed into Azkaban without first
being tried.
"What my memory will show you is
the truth of the Dork Lard's identity, who was
really responsible, and what was really
petrifying students in the school, that year."
Harry thought hard about the event and
nodded. The auror drew the memory forth
and moved it to the stone basin.
Not even waiting for the go-ahead, he
activated it.
The memory then played from Harry and Ron
forcing Lockhart into the bathroom, Harry
activating the hidden entrance, their slide
down into the cave tunnel, Lockhart getting
Ron's wand and the Obliviate curse
backfiring on him bringing the roof down...
which had many watching scandalised at
Flophart's actions... Harry going on and
opening the main door, and his finding
Ginny's unconscious form.
Then to his chat with 'Memory-Riddle' with
the truth about his name and heritage, the
calling forth of the basilisk, the arrival of
Fawkes with the Sorting Hat, the fight with
the basilisk, getting bitten, Fawkes crying into
the wound in Harry's right forearm, and him
using the broken fang to destroy the diary.
Memory-Riddle's destruction, Ginny waking
up, Harry leading her back to the cave-in,
Ron's helping both of them through the small
gap he'd finally been able to make, Fawkes
gathering them all up and flying them back
up the pipe, and their arrival back in the
bathroom at the feet of Professor
McGonagall.
During the playing of the memory, Harry
heard gasps, the odd shriek at the relevant
moments, cheers at the end of the battle,
and mumbled chatter.
When the memory finished Harry had to ask
the stunned auror for its return.
Everyone else, except for Harry, Hermione,
Daphne and Matthias, sat there in shock. The
aforementioned had, of course, seen it
before.
Finally coming back to his senses, Fitzwilliam
turned to Fudge and said, "Minister,
you give this boy a bloody Order of Merlin,
First Class. You hear me?"
The Minister, sitting pale and trembling
slightly, just nodded back.
Turning back to Harry, Fitzwilliam asked, "Are
there any more exploding cauldrons you
want to drop on us, Mister Potter?"
"What?" asked Harry. "You haven't had
enough, yet? Gee, you people are hard to
please."
"Mister Potter," Fitzwilliam half-sighed
half-growled.
"Alright," soothed Harry. "How about this
one. Why does everyone think I was hit by
the killing curse, that night?"
"Because you were?" he asked a little
plaintively.
"Really?" asked Harry. "How do you know?
Think about this. For those we know to be
there on that night when
Riddle supposedly turned up: We know
Riddle may have been there; of course, we
now know Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper,
so he was likely there. However, we also
know he was a bit of a coward; as you saw of
the memory in the Shrieking Shack. So, we
don't know where he was in relation to the...
action, shall we say.
"We know my father was killed by the killing
curse after it was determined he duelled
with someone. Riddle may or may not have
been the one he was duelling with and who
cast the killing curse that killed him. We
know someone soon thereafter went up into
my nursery, and that my mother was hit by
the killing curse. Was it Riddle? Again, we
don't know.
"At that point, we only know that
Riddle... probably... and myself are the only
two people left alive in the cottage. There
were... possibly... other Death Eaters around,
including Pettigrew. However, we don't know
where they were in relation to what
happened next.
"At that point... supposedly... Riddle cast the
killing curse at me. The curse... supposedly...
rebounded destroying Riddle, utterly.
There's nothing left; not even his robes or
wand. It also brought down the upper storey
whole front wall and some of the ceiling and
roof of the nursery.
Chapter 124
"So, here's what I have issue with. If Riddle
was supposed to have cast the killing curse at
me... and the killing curse is supposed to
leave no mark other than a look of surprised
horror on the faces of its victims... how did it
leave a mark on me?" Harry showed what
was left of his scar. "How did it then utterly
destroy Riddle's body? How did it blast a big
hole in the wall, ceiling and roof of my
nursery?
"And all this is supposed to have happened
from a curse that 'everyone knows' doesn't
leave a mark. That, in and of itself, should
have anyone with a lick of sense when they
heard of that, saying, 'Bullshit! I don't believe
you'.
"Further, if Riddle's wand was supposedly
destroyed, there was no wand on which to
cast the prior incantation charm to
determine what Riddle, if it actually was him,
actually cast. That is, whether or not it was
actually the killing curse. And, finally, how
does a relatively normal fifteen month old
wizarding infant survive a supposedly
unsurvivable curse?"
"Then, since I was the only one apparently
left alive in the cottage, how is it that all
those books supposedly written as fact about
that night, actually have said facts? Since I
was the only one there left alive, I was the
only one who could have said anything. That
I was only fifteen months old at the time,
and my vocabulary was very limited, I believe
I can state for the record I wasn't the one
who told them."
"Do you have answers to those questions,
Mister Chief Interrogator?" Harry softly
asked, not expecting an answer.
Fitzwilliam sat there for long few moments,
chewing over that information. He eventually
started looking around to see if anyone had
the answers. Finally, still looking around, he
asked to everyone, "Anyone?"
"Spell residue," someone called.
"My mother was apparently killed by the
killing curse, within a baby's arm reach,
directly in front of me," Harry replied.
"There's your residue."
"Then what else could have happened?"
someone else blurted out.
"Unlike authors of books trying to pass off
their speculation as fact, I won't do so,"
replied Harry. "However, I'll leave you with
this thought. Unless you can categorically
state that someone was there and has
admitted to seeing the whole thing, how do
you know Riddle, the person you all refer to
by those silly hyphenated names...
You-Know-Who, et cetera... is dead? That he
hasn't since been seen or attacked anyone
else is naught but circumstantial evidence of
his demise. Someone has been selling you all
a bill of defective cauldrons. And, you folks
lapped it all up and asked for more.
"No. I think someone set me up to be seen as
the hero of magical Britain. Someone, for
whatever vile purpose, wants everyone to
see me as their hero; their saviour. And it has
to be someone who, when they say
something that everyone should have
immediately scoffed at as nonsense, you all
believed. So, you've either all been
confounded, or you trust that person's words
utterly, in the face of and directly refutable
by evidence."
Many people looked back at Harry in horror,
from both the assembled and the visitors.
"But, you killed him!" exclaimed one
horrified spectator.
"Rubbish!" Harry shot right back. "Where's
your proof?
"Think also about this, if I really did kill
Riddle that night... well, Albus Dumbledore
received an Order of Merlin, First Class, for
defeating his Dark Lord, Grindelwald... the
Ministry must not have thought I'd killed
Riddle; or, I'd have received one, too. Right?
"It really surprises me that the wizarding
public were so ready to accept Riddle was
dead. Clearly, based on the
evidence, someone stood up and intoned,
'Voldemort is dead!' and everyone went,
'Yay!' Didn't anyone bother to ask, 'Where's
your evidence? Where're his remains?
Where's his wand? Where is one skerrick of
proof that shows Voldemort is truly dead?'
Hmm?
"Yes, my nursery was blown up. And it may
very well have been shrapnel from the
structure, walls, ceiling or roof of the cottage
that gave me my scar. That's a far more likely
scenario, isn't it?
"Then, I'm taken from my nursery by either
Albus Dumbledore or someone operating
under his instructions. Now, at that point,
its two days before my godfather, Sirius Black
was supposed to have killed Pettigrew and
thirteen muggles. At that point, my
godmother, Alice Longbottom, is with her
husband, Frank; mother-in-law, Augustus
Longbottom; and her son, Neville. They
weren't attacked for a further three days. By
rights, I should have been with young Neville,
by then.
"However, is that where Albus Dumbledore
takes me? Does he hold onto me and
properly... and rightfully... hand me over to
either my godfather or godmother? Merlin,
no! Doing the right thing is clearly against
Albus Dumbledore's idea of what he believes
is right. To Hell with the wishes of baby
Harry's parents, James and Lily Potter. I'll just
kidnap the brat and go dump him at his
all-things-wizarding-hating muggle aunt and
uncle's place in Surrey."
"Mister Potter!" roared Dumbledore, again
rising to his feet. "Stop this nonsense, at
once!"
With a few bangs of his gavel, Fitzwilliam
almost shouted back, "Sit down, Chief
Warlock. You're clearly in enough trouble, as
it is! It is for this enquiry to determine what
it will and will not hear. And, we're quite
eager to hear more from Mister Potter.
"Mister Potter is speaking to matters relating
to the article that appeared in the Daily
Prophet. He is on topic. You
will not interrupt!"
Turning back to Harry, Fitzwilliam called,
"Mister Potter."
Harry went for broke, at that point. "I can
easily picture Mister Dumbledore's actions of
that night and the next. 'I'm Albus flippin'
Dumbledore, and I don't give a
flying toss what his parent's last wishes were.
I'm just going to dump the brat at
the last place he should have gone. Except, of
course, directly into the arms of Riddle's little
band of blood bigots.
"And... if anyone asks why I did it... I'll just
tell them it's for the greater good. Then,
they'll all bow to my greatness. After all, if
anyone does question my motives... not that
they really will... I'll just clam up and say
something like, 'I cannot answer that
question as it relates to the security of the
wizarding world'; or some other such
nonsense. They wouldn't dare question me
after I tell them that."
With a snort and shake of his head showing
supreme disappointment, he continued,
"Albus Dumbledore is the one who dumped
me at my wizard-hating relatives where I was
systematically abused for the next ten years.
Albus Dumbledore is the one
who immediately claimed magical
guardianship of me, with the aid of you
people in the Wizengamot. A guardianship,
mind, that should have rightfully gone to
Alice Longbottom, since Sirius Black was
hunting down Death Eater Peter Pettigrew at
the time. It was then Albus Dumbledore's
responsibility to check up on my welfare... as
was his now and wrongfully claimed duty...
and didn't!
"It was Albus Dumbledore, after I finally
arrived at Hogwarts, who received reports
from the school nurse as to my
malnourishment, poor health, and physical
evidence of abuse; and did not act. It is Albus
Dumbledore, who continues to demand I
return to the abuse of my aunt and uncle
every summer; though he knows I am abused
there; and no matter how many times I have
told him of the abuse I receive there.
Chapter 125
"By my testimony, Albus Dumbledore
is guilty of being an accessory to child abuse
during and after the fact on multiple
counts, guilty of negligence in the care of a
minor under his direct and deliberate
claimed care on multiple counts, guilty of
child endangerment by being the one who
deliberately and directly placed me into the
hands of child abusers, and guilty of violating
the Last Will and Testament of James and Lily
Potter as to the dispensation of their estate
and the care of their only son.
"You want to know who is to blame for the
treatment of your..." he snorted,
"Boy-Who-Lived hero?" He raised his hand
and pointed right at Dumbledore. "He sits
among you as your Chief Warlock, and he
claims the name of Albus Percival Wulfric
Brian Dumbledore!"
Pandemonium. Many in the visitors' gallery
wanted Dumbledore tried right then and
there. Some among the assembled were of
the same opinion. However, the final act of
the enquiry was the arrest and charges laid
on Dumbledore by Madam Bones. Harry was
then free to go, but advised he'd likely be
called as a witness for the prosecution in the
case against the old man.
Harry just nodded back. However, he did not
think such a trial would even come to pass.
Both the Ministry and the Wizengamot were
far too corrupt for such a scenario to actually
play out.
No, Harry's and his bondmates' aim was just
to have Dumbledore well and truly shown to
be incapable of holding the magical
guardianship of anyone; let alone Harry. And,
that people would now recognise he actually
was fallible. He was also sure to be further
pilloried in the media.
Anything that kept Dumbledore hopping,
trying to put out little spot fires against his
great plans, was good value in Harry's mind.
Harry was not reluctant to toss more petrol
onto the flames.
He wondered how long it would be before
Dumbledore called him to his office, once he
was back in the school.
Before they left, Stewart pulled them aside.
"Well," he said. "It appears you no longer
need me to organise a trial for your godfather.
However, you'll need me again if this matter
with Dumbledore goes to trial."
"I see you're just as doubtful of that coming
to pass as I am," said Harry, wryly. "I think
Dumbledore's somehow going to use every
contact and favour he's got to ensure it
doesn't."
"My sentiments, precisely," replied Stewart.
"As Madam Bones has already notified me
that I may be called in as a witness for the
prosecution, what are your views on
Dumbledore, as Headmaster, summoning me
to his office between now and when this
matter goes to court; or doesn't?" asked
Harry.
The solicitor thought about it for a while
before he replied. "A difficult to determine
situation. One the one hand, he'll do it... and
can only do it... in his role as Headmaster.
Further, as the court has not yet been called,
and as you cannot actually be called as a
material witness until it has, you are not yet
actually a witness for the prosecution.
"On the other hand however, as things
currently stand, you will be called as such a
witness. Plus, irrespective of Dumbledore
being the Headmaster, he's still the man who
will face trial. As such, it would still be
improper for him to directly interact with you.
And, as Headmaster, there really is no need
for him to do so."
He looked at Harry in a rather direct manner.
"Do you expect to be called to his office?"
"I think you can bank on it," Harry firmly
replied.
"Hmm," Stewart verbally nodded. "My legal
advice is to inform him you cannot directly
interact with him until the legal issues he
faces are resolved."
"Thank you," Harry breathed in relief. "That's
all I needed to hear."
Matthias took the three bondmates directly
back to Hogwarts, escorting them all the way
to the Entrance Hall.
After thanking the man, Harry quickly
escorted the girls directly back to their
apartment so they could change into
something more befitting a school day
evening meal at the school.
After quickly changing, he grabbed
parchment, ink and quill and quickly drafted
a letter to hand off to whatever Professor
would pass him a note from the Headmaster
summoning him to the his office.
With a few minor alterations from the girls,
he was done; and wrote out the actual note.
* # *
Headmaster,
I have been notified by the Head of the DMLE,
Madam Amelia Bones, to hold myself as if
being formally called as material witness for
the prosecution in a matter being raised
against you relating to myself. As such, I have
been advised by retained legal counsel not to
meet with you, or otherwise interact with
you, in any manner other than normal
Headmaster / student relations, as such
would be improper. And, that such
interactions not ever take place out of the
public sphere, lest it appear you are
attempting to pervert the course of justice
through what is known as 'witness
tampering'.
Acceding to that advice, I will not be meeting
with you in your office, or anywhere else
private, for the foreseeable future; and until
such time as the legal issues between us
have been resolved within a court of law.
Any and all such attempts to force the issue
will be met with my direct refusal and
immediate notification of my legal counsel. I
feel confident any issues that the senior staff
need raise with me can be handled by either
the Deputy Headmistress, Professor Minerva
McGonagall, or by my Head of House,
Professor Filius Flitwick.
Yours,
Harry J Potter.
* # *
Happy with the document, he immediately
created a copy of it using the copying
charm, Gemino; and had just finished as the
girls returned to their living room from their
bedrooms.
Chapter 126
As the three entered the Great Hall for dinner,
Harry had the note folded and tucked into an
inside robe breast pocket. He expected to be
using it before the meal ended.
The three, again, sat opposite Luna. However,
there were now others within her year; and
years either side, who were paying her at
least some attention. Harry's bollicking of
them seemed to have gotten through to at
least a few, at last.
Hermione was telling Luna all about what
happened during the enquiry while they
were eating dessert when Professor
McGonagall dropped by attempting to hand
Harry a note.
Instead of taking it, Harry asked, "Let me
guess; the Headmaster would like to see me
in his office immediately after dinner?"
With a frown of displeasure, the Professor
replied, "It is not for you or me to ask, Mister
Potter."
"I see," said Harry. He reached into his
pocket, drew forth his prepared note and
handed that back to the Professor. "It is for
me to ask, Professor. And it is explained in
that note right back to the Headmaster. I
will not be attending his office, this evening...
or, any other evening... for the foreseeable
future; until such time as the legal difficulties
between us are resolved. I have been so
advised by legal counsel."
With her lips firmly pursed in anger, or
simple displeasure, the Professor took the
note and left again. Harry and the others
continued their meal in peace.
The three had just returned to their
apartment after the meal when there was a
knock on the door by the stone Professor.
Hermione rose from where she was sitting
and said, "I'll get it." Before walking over and
opening the door.
From where the other two were sitting, they
heard Hermione ask, "Headmaster?"
"Miss Granger, I must speak with Mister
Potter, immediately," they heard the old man
say, just before he practically forced his way
inside.
Both Harry and Daphne rose from the
couches as the old man walked in.
"Mister Potter," said Dumbledore, clearly
angry. "I am not in the habit of having my
summonses refused by students."
"Headmaster, as my note back to you clearly
stated, I have been advised by legal counsel
not to meet with you in private," Harry firmly
replied. "Now, please leave!"
"I am the Headmaster of this school, Mister
Potter," glared Dumbledore. "You will not
refuse my summons when I want to speak
with you."
Harry glared back. "Certainly, Headmaster. I
completely understand. I shall go speak with
Professor Flitwick immediately after you
leave about transferring to another school.
After all, I have been advised by legal counsel
not to speak with you in private, as you have
been advised. Since my being a student at
this school obviously causes a conflict, I shall
organise to transfer to another school."
Turning to Daphne, he said, "Daphne, please
take note of the date and time of this...
conflict. We will need to advise Mister
Ackerman of exactly what is going on here,
right now. I believe he will want to let
Madam Bones know." Turning back to the
Headmaster, he said, "Please hold your
comments until Miss Greengrass is ready to
write down exactly what you say."
Quickly gathering to herself parchment, ink
and a quill, Daphne said, "Ready, love."
"Now, Headmaster, what is it you wish to
speak with me about?" asked Harry. "And
please speak clearly so Miss Greengrass is
sure to properly write down what you say."
Dumbledore continued to try to look angry.
However, Harry could see the man was also
afraid. He knew that fear resolved around
Harry leaving Hogwarts; or, worse, magical
Britain.
"Harry," Dumbledore tried, "I need you to
reconsider."
"Reconsider what, Headmaster
Dumbledore?" Harry asked right back.
With an almost force of will, Dumbledore
replied, "I need you to reconsider pursuing
this... vendetta... against me. I consider you
the grandson I was never fortunate enough
to have. I consider you my successor, as the
'Leader of the Light'. I was hoping to offer
you my guidance to take over my role when I
eventually step down."
Harry stared back for a few moments before
he finally began to reply. "First, Headmaster,
none of that has one iota of relevance to do
with you forcing your way in here as
Headmaster. None of that has any relevance
to this school. As such, you are abusing your
authority. Secondly, I am not pursuing a
vendetta against you, as you state. I am
clearing the air of the many and varied
misconceptions about me. If that causes you
personal harm to your reputation, so be it. I
spoke only the truth, without obfuscation or
vacillation. It could only cause you harm if
your reputation is based on other than the
truth.
"Through your deliberate and pre conceived
actions you placed me in a home... no, not a
home... you placed me in an
abusive environment, and did not bother to
even consider it important enough to check
up on my welfare; not even once. You did
this to someone who you... through your
own words, just then... consider the
grandson you were never fortunate to have.
Thanks, but no thanks!
"You are the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW,
you are the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot,
you are the Headmaster of Hogwarts School
of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and you
were supposed to be my magical guardian
after you deliberately and with forethought
claimed it from my rightful guardians.
Clearly... clearly... you have spread yourself
way too thin. Through my own research I
have discovered those first three roles are all
supposed to be fulltime positions. Either you
are breaking the fundamental laws of time,
you are not putting in the proper and
responsible hours to each of the positions
you currently hold, or you are delegating the
work to others while claiming the full pay
and privileges of each. If it's the
last, Mister Dumbledore, it's nothing less
than fraud.
"As for the last role, by rights, I
should sue your arse! Through our legal
system I should seek financial recompense
from you for your neglect. Where would your
precious reputation be if I was to do that?
However, I'm willing to forgo doing that if...
and only if... you cease any and all attempts
to control me... either directly or indirectly...
through deed, word or agency.
"And, I'm only willing to do that, because it
means I would have to spend
even more time interacting with you if I was
to pursue the matter through our courts. I
don't like you, I don't trust you, and... frankly,
Sir... I feel you have a most unhealthy
obsession with me. It scares me how much
you seem to be focussing on me.
"Now, Headmaster, Supreme Mugwump,
Chief Warlock or Mister Dumbledore...
whatever title it is you're currently using or
abusing while you stand here... have I made
my views on this matter completely clear to
you?"
The Headmaster stood there for a few
moments with his head slightly bowed but
anger still in his eyes. "Yes, Mister Potter; you
have. However, there is much you don't
know that only I can tell you. That is why it is
important you must remain at Hogwarts
under my tutelage."
Chapter 127
"Ah, yes," said Harry, with a slight growl.
"Information control. It's just another form
of control you're trying to place upon me.
I'm supposed to need information you have;
yet, you're not willing to give it to me. And,
when I ask, you brush me off with some...
frankly... inane comment about how my
childhood is too important to enjoy with
such weighty information. Well Mister
Supreme Mugwump Headmaster Chief
Warlock Leader of the Light Dumbledore,
I'm not interested. I'm not buying it. If the
information is important for me to have,
then give it to me. However, if
you're not willing to give it to me, shove it! I
will no longer allow you to use it to have
power over me. I will find some other way to
get it if I actually need it.
"To the second part of your... reasoning...
your tutelage, I put to you it is quite difficult
to remain under your tutelage when I've not
been under it at all! In case you've not
figured it out, Headmaster, you've taught me
nothing here except for the following facts:
One, you refuse to answer very important
questions relating to me when I ask them of
you; and two, when I complain about your
teaching staff... Snape, in particular... you
utter some nonsense or other inanity about
how he has your complete faith and trust;
which, in turn, demonstrates your complete
ignorance of the teaching qualities of your
staff, or that you really don't give a shit.
There are, of course, other matters, but
those are the big two. Anything else?"
With a returned angry glare, Dumbledore
tried, "I assure you, Harry; when the time is
right, I will give you both the information and
tutelage you need. However, the time is
not yet right."
"Then, Headmaster, when it is, seek me out,"
returned Harry. "I have no idea where in the
world I'll be, at that time; but, I've been
giving a heap of consideration to transferring
the three of us to either Salem in the US, or
Dundee in Australia. I had originally thought
to transfer to Beauxbatons in France, until I
remembered I speak very little French other
than a few words. At least both the US and
Australia speak English, even if it's with an
accent. It's a decision my rightful guardian,
Sirius Black, the Grangers and the
Greengrasses will make. Anything else?"
"No matter how unworthy of the title of hero
of magical Britain you feel you are," tried
Dumbledore, "you are considered a hero. If
you leave Britain, it could cause such a furore
it may likely bring down the government and
lay ruin to our way of life. Do you think so
little of your friends and their families that
you'd do such a thing to them?"
"Ah, control method number two; guilt
tripping," replied Harry. "That won't work,
either. First, I am not responsible for me
being placed on that hero pedestal. If
anything, you are when you refused to act in
my best interests and put a stop to it as soon
as it started. Second, I'm now doing my best
to correct that misconception about me.
That's what those articles you don't want me
causing to be printed are all about. And,
three, the only friends I have are in this room.
And, the only other people I care about,
should be caring more about me than
magical Britain; and should, therefore,
support my desire to leave. The other
students of this school, with the notable
exceptions of a very
few, amply demonstrated to me in my
second year how little they really care for me.
Does the term 'Heir of Slytherin' ring any
bells for you, Headmaster? That's yet
another thing you and your staff should have
put a stop to as soon as it began. Next?"
"What about the wishes of your parents,
Harry?" asked the old man, scrambling for
ideas. "They'd have wanted you to attend
Hogwarts, as they did."
"Sadly, we'll never know what my parents
wanted, Headmaster; as I've never seen the
Will they should have left behind," reasoned
Harry. "As such, we have no way of
knowing what my parents wanted of, or for,
me. I suspect I'll probably learn more once
I'm able to sit down and discuss the matter
more fully with my godfather."
Harry knew a Will should exist, considering
the size of the Potter fortune, but had no
idea where it could be found. That the goblin
Sharpclaw did not tell him of its existence
implied a copy was not within their
possession. He had the distinct feeling
Dumbledore either had it, or had destroyed
it.
"Will that be all, Headmaster?" asked Harry,
allowing a hint of frustration to colour his
voice.
With an exaggerated sigh, Dumbledore
replied, "I see you are in no mood to listen to
reason, Harry. We shall speak of this at
another time."
As Dumbledore turned to leave, Harry shot
back, "And, when we do, Headmaster, it will
be in the company of my solicitors. My return
missive to you stands! I will NOT meet with
you, in private, nor for any reason not
directly related to my schooling, without the
attendance of my legal counsel. I expect my
solicitors will soon visit you to remind you of
that."
Dumbledore left without further
acknowledgement.
The articles concerning Harry's appearance
before the Wizengamot hearing, specifically
what he caused to be made known, created
both a morning and evening edition of
the Daily Prophet to be distributed the next
day. It appeared there was so much
information to cover that the senior staff of
the newspaper decided to spread it across
two editions, with most of what appeared in
the evening being led by teasers in the
morning.
Harry and his bondmates decided to simply
stick together for the entire day and
weathered the clamour that occurred in the
school from the articles. Of course, it was the
blood bigots in Slytherin, and a couple from
Ravenclaw, that were the most upset. None
of them liked to learn that Voldemort...
Riddle... was actually only a half-blood.
What annoyed Harry and his bondmates the
most wasn't what was being said by other
students. It was the remarks of the Minister
that appeared in the papers along with the
articles. The Minister was being adamant
that Voldemort was truly dead and gone, and
refused to entertain the idea he wasn't.
Umbridge even used the opportunity to call
him a 'delusional attention seeking liar'. Only
this time it occurred about nine months
earlier than the previous timeline. He did not
need to even bother contacting his solicitors
as Miss Pentridge had immediately written
him to let him know she was already seeking
legal redress for the remarks.
"Idiot man!" snarled Harry, after reading the
Minister's remarks. "He was an idiot then,
just as he's an idiot now."
"Uh-hmm," murmured Hermione, still
reading. "This time, though; we'll have to
take him down, earlier. He is as much
responsible for all the deaths that occurred
as Riddle, himself. He gave Riddle that entire
year, last time, to rebuild his forces."
Chapter 128
From then onwards, the weeks began to flow
by.
Ackerman had been to visit the Headmaster
and given him a bollicking. It was
immediately followed by a formal 'cease and
desist' order delivered by hand from Madam
Bones; with further threats of arrest should
he even consider breaching the order.
However, a criminal trial against Dumbledore
had, as predicted, stalled. Nothing further
occurred.
To try and get things moving again, the
bondmates then caused for the whole story
of the Philosopher's Stone to be released to
the Prophet. This time there were many
angry questions over how Dumbledore could
place the students of Hogwarts lives' at risk
by having such an artefact stored at the
school.
However, though it caused even more angry
letters from concerned parents to be sent to
the Editor of the Prophet, it was still not
enough to see Dumbledore brought in for
trial. It was merely seen as a separate
incident, unrelated to his initial problems.
For strengthening their bonds the three
bondmates, by unspoken agreement,
decided not to progress matters beyond
what they were already doing. All three
decided they had no reason to rush anything,
with Luna easily able to see the bond and
ensure no harm occurred.
However, during their latest visit to Madam
Pomfrey for an 'official' bond health check,
the medi-witch gave them a 'what for'
lecture.
Sitting them all on one bed, she stood before
them and demanded, "Why am I not seeing
any progression in the bonds? Everything
appears to have stalled!"
"Because there truly is no need to rush,
Madam Pomfrey," Harry calmly replied. "And,
with Luna's assistance, we know we're not
causing any harm to it."
"And, how would you know that?" she
snapped.
"How would anyone know either way?" he
countered. With a sigh, he said, "Madam
Pomfrey, please consider our ages. Please
consider the way we were each raised!"
Pomfrey appeared to visibly sag at Harry's
words. And appeared to have recognised the
verbal slap for what it was. "I understand,
Mister Potter," she softly replied. "However,
we do not know if there is a finite time
period we need... you need... to consider
here."
"But, the books we've read have already
provided prior evidence it can take a lot
longer than we're currently giving it," replied
Hermione. "Harry's right; there's no rush."
Daphne, who'd been sitting with her head
bowed, softly said, "It's my fault."
"What? No!" exclaimed Harry, barely beating
Hermione to the same response.
"And, just why do you believe it's your fault,
Miss Greengrass?" asked Madam Pomfrey.
"If anything, it's the fault of the three of you,
equally combined."
"There is no fault!" exclaimed Hermione, a
little shrill for being affronted.
"Alright, we're not puritans," sighed Harry.
"We aren't too held back by the mores of
society, either magical or muggle. But none
of the three of us see a need to rush anything,
here. We've read the available literature and
there were no specifics as to how long this is
supposed to take. Merlin, madam! Even then,
none of them cover three-way bonds.
"The bond could be stronger if we take our
time, or dissolve. If we rush it, we could do
more harm than good. There's no way to
know. All we can do is go with our gut
feelings, supported by what you and Luna are
telling us. Neither of you have steered us
wrong, yet. Yet!"
"All three of us are agreed we see no need to
push things, Madam," tried Hermione. "You
cannot state... without doubt... that the
bond won't be harmed by us pushing things
too fast, or will be harmed by us taking it
slow."
With a sigh of near surrender, Madam
Pomfrey replied, "No, I cannot. However, the
literature does go into detail concerning
two-way bonds, and that the bonds need to
be constantly improved until they reach
finalisation."
"And those mentioned in the literature did
not also include someone with mage sight or
Ravenclaw's Gift being able to constantly
monitor the bond on behalf of the
bondmates," Hermione shot right back.
"Hermione, stop it," said Daphne firmly but
quietly. Looking at the medi-witch, she
sighed with an almost pained look and said,
"There's another factor of which you're
unaware."
"Daphne," both Harry and Hermione warned.
"You don't need to tell her."
With a look of apology at her bondmates,
Daphne looked back towards Madam
Pomfrey with her eyes downcast, and quietly
said, "What you don't know is that, before
the bonds were established, I was... sexually
molested."
"What?" gasped Pomfrey. "Oh,
you poor dear!"
As the medi-witch stepped forward to cast
more scans, Daphne held up her hand and
firmly said, "You won't find any evidence of it.
The... physical... side of things has been
rectified."
"But, you still have the psychological trauma
associated with it," finished the medi-witch,
understanding as she lowered her wand
again.
As Harry was the only one sitting next to her
- Hermione was on his other side - he twisted
on the bed and wrapped the girl in his arms,
not saying a word.
"And, that's why things are being taken
slow," explained Hermione in a furious
mutter to the medi-witch while Harry just
glared.
"Yes, yes," said Madam Pomfrey, almost
distractedly. "It all makes perfect sense,
now."
Thinking furiously for a few moments, she
turned once more to Daphne and said, "If
you ever need to talk of it, my door is always
open to you. You need to know that. And,
never fear; this will not go into my medical
files on you. I trust my security to hold up to
the best, but... I'll not risk it."
"Thank you," Daphne quietly said in a small
voice.
"I think that's enough for today," Harry firmly
declared, hopping off the bed and helping
Daphne off. Hermione followed.
The three then made their way back out of
the infirmary without a backward glance.
They immediately headed directly to their
apartment whereupon Daphne broke down,
sobbing. Her bondmates put her to bed with
a calming draught and lay cuddling into her
as she fell asleep.
Both Harry and Hermione realised it was
something Daphne needed to do as part of
recovering from that awful experience.
The girls, who had firmly taken control of the
project of getting Harry's back-mail sorted,
had organised students who were eager for
the added pocket money to start sorting
through everything.
Chapter 129
After the first couple of days, they took Harry
to the old classroom and proudly showed
him what they were doing. Inside, he saw
about a dozen students from the various
houses diligently working away. He was
stunned by the amount of activity going on.
Daphne introduced him to a pair of senior
year Slytherins and a Ravenclaw, who were
carefully scanning each and every item for
malicious traps, enchantments and the like.
That was all being set aside, unopened, into
a set of what looked like plastic tubs.
The 'enchantment checkers' were then
passing on the clean mail to a pair of younger
years - two Hufflepuffs - who were opening
each item and cataloguing each into a pair of
ledgers. They were sorting the mail into
suspected age groups of the sender for
suitable responses. They also had a large bin
with anti-odour shields around it that was
being filled by rotting perishables and the
like.
The mail was then passed on to the next
station where four students - two
Ravenclaws a Hufflepuff and a Gryffindor -
were organising and writing responses using
Muffliato charms and dicta-quills.
The mail then went to the next station where
the responses were checked and the
non-perishable gifts were separated out. The
gifts went to a young Slytherin who was
making decisions as to what to do with them,
while the responses went to a pair of
Gryffindors. The Gryffindors then organised
the responses into what to send and when.
Being led from station to station, his two
bondmates described to him what was
happening; and introduced Harry to each and
every one of those working. When he was
finished they showed him the various gifts,
where they were being stacked onto a
separate set of shelving, plus all the formal
documents that had been sorted out,
separately.
"This is..." he tried. "Wow!"
Looking to his bondmates, full of emotion, he
said, "Thank you. Thank you, both, very
much."
That earned him a double-hug and kisses to
his cheeks.
The girls led him over to a table where a
stack of letters was sitting in an 'In' tray with
an empty 'Out' tray sitting alongside it.
"This stack represents all the letters where a
gift was sent that requires you to actually
sign the response in your own hand,"
showed Hermione.
With a frown, Harry asked, "There are letters
being sent out that I'm not signing?"
"Yes," she replied. "There's so much there's
no way you can possibly just sign everything,
let alone actually write the actual letters. So,
instead, letters are being written that are not
signed. Instead, the name 'Harry' is simply
being written at the bottom on your behalf."
Taking another look at the racks loaded with
mail, Harry sighed and said, "You're right. I
couldn't possibly even just sign each and
every letter. I'd still be at it for far too long."
With a look of relief, Hermione accepted the
statement, happy Harry hadn't needed to be
fought over it.
"Whose owls are we using?" he suddenly
asked.
"They're hired," replied Daphne. "There's a
service you can contract owls from to take
care of major mailings. They're the owls
often used by those businesses that have
mailing lists and want to send out updates or
new catalogues. We have them for the time
being. We lose them for two days in a week
to another contract, then they come back
here."
"You can bulk hire owls?" asked Harry,
surprised.
"Yes," replied Daphne. "How else did you
think bulk mailings were sent out?"
"I thought the Owl Mail Office handled those
sorts of things," he replied.
"They do," she returned. "The company we
hired these from is a commercial arm of the
Owl Mail Office."
"Ah," he exclaimed. "I wondered."
"All you'll need to do, at the end, is decide
what to do with all the gifts that you
received over the years," advised Hermione.
"A great many of them are age appropriate
to the age you were when the gifts were
originally sent. I doubt you'd want to keep,
for instance, a stuffed toy dragon that'll fly
around your bed for you."
Harry laughed and replied, "No. However, I
may want to keep some pretty odd things...
Actually, have our handy little industrious
beavers sort the gifts into two separate piles
of what is shop bought... manufactured...
and what is hand made. For instance, any
handmade cards by children I'd like to keep. I
think I'd like to put them into an album, or
something."
"You want to keep the hand made gifts?"
asked Daphne, curious. "Why?"
With a shrug, Harry replied, "Anyone can go
and hand over anything from a few knuts to
a heap of galleons for a gift for someone. It
may take gold, but it also takes little effort.
However, taking the time to make a
handmade gift shows true commitment.
That's the sort of thing I'd be more likely to
cherish."
The two girls thought about that for a few
moments before Hermione sniffled and said,
"He's right. My parents still have finger
paintings and similar I made for them while
in early primary school stuck to the fridge.
My very first finger painting, my very first
drawing with crayons and my very first with
pencils my parents had framed and now
adorn the walls in their dental surgery.
"I used to be embarrassed when I went in
there and saw them. Now, though, I know it's
a symbol of their love for me; for their pride
in me."
"You want to frame them and display them
on your walls?" asked Daphne.
"No," he replied. "I want to... put them on
display, somewhere. At first, that may be in
my home. Later, that may be in a museum
concerning the war... wars. I may detest my
fame; but, that doesn't mean it cannot be
used to create a museum. It also means I do
not... dislike... that small children look up to
me. Of that, I'm grateful. It's the adults who
should know better.
"A museum is a wonderful way to force
people to remember their history. And,
hopefully, help them come to understand
what leads to war; what leads to the creation
of dark lords. And, in turn, what has led
magical Britain to have such an extremely
low population right now."
Deep in thought, both girls nodded at Harry's
explanation. Hermione said, "That's actually
a brilliant idea. Those who fail to learn from
history's mistakes are doomed to repeat
them. Or, something like that... I think."
"Exactly," smiled Harry. "That's what makes
museums so valuable. It's not the art within
them; it's the knowledge they retain and give
to successor generations."
"A worthy goal," mused Daphne. "So, you
want to build and house a museum. That'll
be expensive."
Chapter 130
"Maybe," shrugged Harry. "But, I also want
to create a foundation to fund it. I also want
to see it recognised as a worthy charity; to
see it as a worthy beneficiary of
bequeathments. In that way, funding for it
will eventually become self-sustaining. In the
intervening years, House Potter can be its
main contributor."
"Well, that's for another day," said Hermione.
"For now, we have homework and study."
Harry groaned as Daphne grinned. Only
Harry's reaction made Hermione frown and
respond. "Harry James Potter; just because
we've done this before does not mean you
don't have to complete assignments and
study. This time, at least, you can put in the
effort to succeed at more than just Dah-dah."
"Yes, dear," he muttered. That earned him a
smack to the back of the head from both
witches. He was about to complain when he
realised he didn't really have the right to.
He did come across as moody and somewhat
belligerent in the tone of his response.
For the next few nights both girls slept in
their own beds. When Harry pouted a little
about it they both blushed, got angry and
told him they had 'women's issues' to deal
with and didn't want to share a bed with
him.
After three days of dealing with two irritable
witches who got angry with him at the drop
of a hat, he decided to go and talk to Luna
about it. He knew she arrived very early for
breakfast, so rose early to join her for his
own breakfast in the Great Hall.
"Luna, you've got to help me," he begged,
after telling her of what he felt was their
estrangement. "I've clearly done something
wrong and don't know what it is."
Luna heard him out without comment. When
he finally wound down, she looked at him
directly and quietly said, "Harry, it's not your
fault. Both of your ladies are currently
experiencing the time of month known as
menses. It will pass within the next day or
so."
Harry looked back with confusion until his
eyes widened in dawning comprehension.
"Oh, God!" he moaned. "I'm an idiot."
"No, you're not," she disagreed. "They really
should have told you. However, we witches
know it's something most wizards don't want
to know anything about. That they're both
going through it at the same time is quite
unusual; but not unheard of. Wait until
they're not so irritable and talk to them
about it. Let them both know it's something
you recognise as being natural; and that you
understand."
Harry nodded and gratefully said, "Thanks,
Luna."
She nodded back and said, "Either that, or
the wrackspurts are confusing them."
Harry smiled back.
That evening, once the three were back in
their apartment with him sitting on one
couch opposite the two girls, he said, "I've
finally come to understand what you two
ladies have been going through for the past
few days. I hope you both can forgive me for
not realising it earlier."
With all three blushing, Hermione replied,
"Harry... i-it's kind of an unwritten rule that
girls don't talk about 'female issues'...
especially about that time of the month...
with boys."
Thinking hard, Harry posited, "Well, while I
understand they wouldn't talk about it with
just any boy, wouldn't wives have to talk
about that sort of thing with their husbands
'slash' partners? I mean, wouldn't it create
problems in their relationship if they didn't?
"You and Daphne... and I understand it's
through no real fault of your own, as I
understand women can become short
tempered then... but, you and Daphne
actually had me worried and upset. The way
the two of you were acting these past few
days, I thought I'd done something wrong.
A-and that it was up to me to figure out what
it was and fix it."
Hermione moved first, quickly followed by
Daphne, as they both quickly rose from their
couch and, coming at him from either side of
the coffee table, sat on the couch either side
of him. Both enveloped him in a hug.
"Harry, it's not your fault!" murmured
Hermione. "You're right in that... as we're so
close, now, and considering our usual
sleeping arrangements... we should have
been at least a little upfront with you about
what was going on. But, we thought you
knew!"
Harry, blushing, just shook his head.
"Sorry, Harry," apologised Daphne, moving in
for a second hug.
While Daphne hugged Harry, Hermione - in
her usual scheduling mode - explained,
"Alright. What you need to know. My cycle is
almost exactly twenty-eight days long. In
other words, I'm average. My... flow... is
generally for four days. So, for your
information, I'm pretty much finished. So, for
twenty-four days, I'm fine; and, for the other
four days, I'm not.
"Let's see. I'm lucky in that my... cramping...
isn't too severe. For your information, it's the
cramping that makes us women irritable;
plus, the 'unclean' feeling we get
during that time. A good pain relief at night is
often a hot water bottle placed on the lower
abdomen. And, don't worry, Winky takes
care of that for me."
Turning to Daphne, she asked, "Daphne? Are
you willing to share?"
Blushing, Daphne pulled away from Harry
and looked away a little. "Let's see," she
stammered a bit in embarrassment. "My
cycle is the witch's cycle. Purebloods are,
more often than not, tied to the lunar cycle.
So, my cycle runs for about twenty-nine and
a half days. The... messy... part of that lasts
almost five days. And, like Hermione, I get
cramps, but Madam Pomfrey has potions for
that."
"She does?" interrupted Hermione.
"Yes," nodded Daphne, looking at her
bond-sister. "You need to ask her for a
witch's monthly pain relief. You take it as
soon as the cramps start, and it'll last for the
entire time. It won't affect your thoughts or
make you tired like a general pain relief
potion, either. It's specifically targeted to
the... you know... the womb. However, it
doesn't stop the irritability."
"Thank you," sighed Hermione. "I'll
remember to ask her about it for next
month."
"If Hermione's cycle is a little shorter than
mine," continued Daphne, "We will steadily
start to have... that... time further and
further apart. That we're having the cycles at
the same time, now, is very unusual but is, of
course, also mathematically feasible. It will
occur about once every... eighteen months?
Or, thereabouts. But, there will also be a few
months, either side, where our days will only
partially overlap.
"We know you understand, Harry," blushed
Daphne. "However, we still apologise for
how we've... shunned... you these past few
days."
"That's alright, Daphne," he replied. "As I
said, I understand. And, thank you, both, for
letting me know what was going on. At
least now I understand I'd done nothing
wrong."
With a kiss to each cheek from the girls, they
returned to the other couch. And the girls
decided to again tutor Harry on third year
Ancient Runes for the rest of the evening."
The next evening Hermione returned to
sleeping in Harry's bed. Daphne returned the
next night.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone