Author Note: Well, here we are; the start of my new story. For those new to my writing, I am also currently writing Harry Potter and the Hallows of Death, which you can find on my profile page. This story will begin in 3rd year and continue all the way through 7th, so it's a much larger undertaking than my other story. It will feature Harry and Hermione as an eventual couple, a slightly more pro-active Dumbledore but still within character, and a slightly different Fudge among many others. As a general rule of thumb, my plot will follow the general plot already established in canon, but will take a great many rabbit trails and be more AU. IF you are looking for a completely AU story, this is not the story you're looking for.
You'll also see a darker story here; more violent Dursleys, more blatant prejudice, a greater exposure to political maneuvering, and of course, a truly terrifying Voldemort. Harry will be a bit more pro-active but alas, no Super-Harry will make an appearance in any story I write. Before you ask, yes; Horcruxes and Hallows are in this story, but they are not as significant as they are in canon. You'll just have to trust me. Anyway, hope you enjoy the start of the journey.
As always; none of this is mine, but rather, JK's. She was the mastermind. I just came up with a few tidbits to turn it on it's head.
Chapter One: Ministry Delegation
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was strangely abuzz with activity for the summer holidays. Much of the castle was ablaze in light, a bright beacon upon the hill overlooking the black lake in the darkness of the early twilight morning. Most prominent, however, was the tower where the Headmaster lived; a multitude of shadowy figures illuminated by candle light could be spotted in the study windows.
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Order of Merlin, First Class recipient, and considered the greatest wizard of the modern age, descended down his dorm stairs and into his lit study, still in his purple and star-patterned pajamas and greeted his late and unexpected visitors.
Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, sporting his green bowler and ministry robes stood at the front of the delegation gathered in the study. Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister stood to his left, and to his right, Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Amos Diggory. Also present was a member of Dumbledore's staff; Minerva McGonagall.
"Minister, Amos, ladies," greeted Dumbledore, taking a seat at his expansive oak desk while placing his half-moon spectacles neatly upon his crooked nose. "What pleasure brings you to my study before the sun has risen?"
"Very unpleasant business, I'm afraid, Dumbledore," said Cornelius. He was already twirling his bowler hat in his hands. "We shall be here for some time," he added, looking at the solitary chair before Dumbledore's desk.
"I see," said Dumbledore with a smirk. "If the news is as unpleasant as you say, we had best make ourselves comfortable." He withdrew his wand from the sleeve compartment of his pajama shirt and lazily flicked it once and several, upholstered chairs appeared. One by one, each delegation member took their seats.
"Well, Cornelius, your secretary intimated it was vital that we meet," said Dumbledore, twirling his wand absentmindedly. He caught the nervous looks Dolores was giving him; he rather enjoyed making her uncomfortable.
"The unthinkable has happened," said the minister, twirling his bowler faster than before. "We've had an escape from Azkaban prison." Dumbledore stopped twirling his wand and his mirthful expression faded as his electric blue eyes narrowed.
"I confess that is unsettling," said Dumbledore soberly, "but surely a prisoner escaping is little cause to wake me prematurely. Much of the prisoners held within Azkaban are as dangerous as the next, so you will forgive me if I remain curious; owl post would have sufficed." The minister shuffled uncomfortably in his chair before he spoke again.
"The prisoner is Sirius Black."
"You're sure," asked Dumbledore who briefly shared a glance with his deputy.
"I'm afraid so, Dumbledore," said Fudge. "And I regret to say it only gets worse."
"Brandy it is then," said Dumbledore. He stood and walked over to the cabinet nearest to the desk and procured a dusty bottle. He gave a quick wave of his wand and several glasses appeared and poured themselves. Dumbledore waved his wand once more and each glass found a recipient.
"Thank you, Albus," said Amos gratefully. "Madam Rosmerta's?"
"Actually, no," said the headmaster as he resumed his seat. "This is from a charming Muggle Village in France. They call it Cognac; I confess I am nearly as fond of it as I am lemon drops."
"Thank you, professor Dumbledore, but I think I'll abstain," said Dolores with a forced smile and quickly abandoned her glass.
"Ah, but of course," said Dumbledore as he banished the glass. "Forgive me, Dolores; I sometimes forget that you are not fond of anything associated with Muggles."
"As well as we all should be," said the undersecretary. "We are neither part of their world as they are not part of ours."
"Madam Undersecretary," replied Dumbledore kindly, "You do realize that even the alcoholic beverages from our society might never have existed if not for Muggles?"
"Perhaps this is not the time, Albus," said Minerva sharply. Dumbledore gave her a nod.
"Yes, quite right, forgive me. Cornelius, please continue."
"Yes, well, as I was saying," began Cornelius, who unlike Umbridge, appeared to greatly enjoy the brandy, "according the prison guards, the Dementors noticed the cell vacated sometime before midnight. They searched the island top to bottom; he was nowhere to be found. I have already alerted the Muggle Prime Minister, of course—mind you the reporters at the Prophet didn't appear pleased, as I suspect neither will many within the Wizengamot—but as they did not find him, we must assume he escaped the island and is already on the mainland. It was only right that all of Britain be on guard."
"I did warn you, minister, not to alert the Muggles," said Umbridge. "Our more prominent members of society will not take kindly to it; there was little reason to involve them. More importantly, we must be careful to avoid painting a narrative of non-magical cooperation."
"Madam Undersecretary, while you are free to disseminate your blood supremacist views and isolationism with those of like-mind, I will not tolerate it in my study." Dumbledore was not angry, but everyone present easily recognized the warning in his voice.
"Dolores, please, we have much more important matters to discuss," said Cornelius.
"Yes, of course, Minister," replied Umbridge. "Forgive my outburst, Headmaster." Dumbledore gave her a courteous nod before Fudge continued.
"Amelia has already alerted the whole of the DMLE, so the Aurors are at this very moment, on the lookout and stationed at every major wizard settlement he's likely to visit. We've alerted all Ministry registered wand makers as well since Black will most certainly attempt to procure one, which brings me to the heart of tonight's visit." He paused and gave Dumbledore a long stare.
"Harry Potter," said Dumbledore soberly. He needed another drink. His glass appeared to agree and poured itself a second round.
"I'm afraid so, Dumbledore," said Fudge sadly. "We must be sure he is protected."
"Sirius Black will not be able to cross the wards upon the house," said Dumbledore confidently.
"Forgive me, Headmaster, but how can you be so sure," asked Dolores. "Black was one of the finest Aurors the Ministry had before he showed his true allegiance—yet you are confident that Mr. Potter is safe with the protections you have provided? It's not my intention to cast doubt upon your skills and expertise, Headmaster, but surely you see why the Ministry would seek assurances? Mr. Potter is the savior of our world and there would be severe fallout if Black were to finish what he started thirteen years ago."
"Dolores," hissed Fudge. "I am not concerned with Harry's protection while he is home—the specifics of his protection were provided thirteen years ago by Dumbledore and sealed upon review by Bagnold, Crouch, and a select panel from the Wizengamot." He turned back to Dumbledore. "My concern is the protection once he leaves home."
"I see," said Dumbledore. "You believe Hogwarts a target for Sirius?"
"I have good reason too," said Fudge. "As you know, it is my unfortunate duty to periodically inspect the prison—most of the inmates go mad within the first year or so under the Dementors—but Black, well, he was almost normal."
"The Dementors were not affecting him?"
"Hard to say," acknowledged the Minister. "I think he was certainly unhinged with the defeat of You-Know-Who; I was there as you recall when we found him, laughing over the remains of his once counted friend, Peter Pettigrew."
"I remember well," said Dumbledore.
"Yes, well, when I last visited Azkaban I was astounded by how…sane Black appeared. I visited with him momentarily. We had a short conversation. He asked if he could have my paper…missed the crosswords, he said. To be blunt, Dumbledore, he appeared bored. Speaking with the prison supervisor, however, it turns out that Black mutters in his sleep. For years it's been the same, they tell me…always rambling apologies to James and Lily…guilt I'm sure…but recently…"
"Go on," encouraged the headmaster.
"Sometime after my visit he began saying something completely different; he's at Hogwarts."
"Most peculiar," said Dumbledore as he was now standing and began to pace. "So Black has escaped from Azkaban, under his own strength and apparently able to ward off the effects of the Dementors without the aid of a wand. Unsettling news indeed, Cornelius."
"You agree the boy has to be protected."
"Naturally," said Dumbledore. "But I fail to see what further protection he can be provided; while he resides at home, it is impossible for Lord Voldemort or any Death Eater to cross the wards, and then he will be aboard the Hogwarts Express. Once he is here, Black will have a difficult time infiltrating the castle, let alone laying hands on Harry. Of course, there is other protection that is unfit for present company to know."
"Perhaps," said Fudge, "but all the same, we cannot ignore the tempting target the boy makes for Black; wherever Harry happens to be will be a potential target. I am prepared to act as is necessary."
"What is it you are prepared to do, Cornelius?"
"I will station Dementors at Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, of course."
"I will not permit a Dementor on Hogwarts grounds, Cornelius. They are foul creatures that are as unreliable and untrustworthy as those they guard. Do not forget their loyalty was first to Lord Voldemort."
"You have my assurance they will not interfere with the day-to-day operation of Hogwarts," said Cornelius, his voice raising to an uncomfortable pitch, but he held his ground none-the-less. "We'll station them at every gate and the perimeter of the grounds. The idea is to prevent Black from setting foot on Hogwarts grounds, or at the very least, capture him in the act. I know how you feel about them, Dumbledore—I'm as uncomfortable with them as you are—but this is a serious matter."
Dumbledore looked uneasy. He had reservations about the Dementors self-discipline to refrain from the temptation a school full of students would present. Dementors posed as much a threat to the students as Black.
"Very well," said Dumbledore, knowing that Cornelius could very well go the school board to push the issue. If he agreed, he could at least negotiate more favorable terms and set clear boundaries. "We can discuss the details at a later date, but for now you have my cooperation."
"Thank you, Dumbledore," said Fudge clearly relieved. "With any luck, we'll capture Black before the start of term and we can put this all behind us."
"I most certainly hope so," agreed Dumbledore. "Minerva, would you kindly schedule a staff meeting over lunch? We'll need to make preparations of our own."
"Of Course, Albus," replied McGonagall.
"Is there anything further that requires my immediate attention, Cornelius?"
"Not for the next few hours, at least," said Cornelius apologetically. "I suspect I shall need your services as Chief Warlock later in the morning to make the Dementor transfer official. As Amos is Head of the department that oversees control of the Dementors, I'll leave him to go over the finer details with you while I deal with the journalists."
"I'm afraid I don't have much for you at the moment, Albus," said Amos equally apologetic. "We haven't even begun preparations for a transfer as we wanted your approval first. I'll be in contact as soon as I have more details. There is one matter I must speak to you about, however."
"Very well," said Dumbledore.
"It's about your recent appointment for the Defense against the Dark Arts position, Remus J. Lupin."
"As I'm sure you're aware, the board has approved the appointment of Mr. Lupin," said Dumbledore. "He will be a fine addition to this staff, regardless of Lucius's prejudiced objections."
"Apologies, Headmaster," said Amos quickly, "I'm not here to criticize your hiring methods. I'm only following up with a concern of a former board member. They have cause for worrying; hiring a werewolf is dangerous on its own—to place one in the same vicinity as children does not appear very wise."
"Werewolves are dangerous, hideous beasts," said Umbridge. "You do not trust Dementors to safeguard this school, yet on the other hand, seem perfectly content to expose them to the dangers of a highly unpredictable and dangerous creature."
"A werewolf, Remus may be, but he is a human like you or I, first," said Dumbledore, looking angry for the first time. "As a boy, he attended this school with his condition with minimal incident. Furthermore, we are now able to treat the dangerous aspects of his transformation with the Wolfesbane potion, made by our very own and very capable potion's master. I see no issue with his appointment."
"And what of his certification," asked Umbridge.
"What of it," asked Dumbledore, the edge in his voice steadily growing. "As Headmaster, I am afforded the authority to determine the merit of applicants; Remus' war record also speaks for itself. In regards to certification, Both Quirinus Quirrell and Gilderoy Lockhart had glowing certifications and endorsements, yet were no more fit to teach than Lord Voldemort. Finally, in light of recent events, Remus is the best candidate for the job."
"What do you mean, Albus," asked Amos.
"Remus would give his life to protect Harry."
"What interest does a werewolf have for protecting Mr. Potter," asked Umbridge.
"Friends, Madam Undersecretary," said Dumbledore simply. "James Potter had several friends at school and later in life, among them; Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin."
"I see," said Amos. "Well, as the board has already approved, and Cornelius signed off on the appointment, I don't see any reason to object any further. That concludes my business for now, Albus." Dumbledore nodded.
"Well, we've kept you long enough, Dumbledore," said Fudge.
"I shall see you to the gates," said Dumbledore.
"I can attend to that, Albus" said Minerva. "You'll be needed soon enough."
"Thank you, Minerva," said Dumbledore. "Before you go, Amos, I would suggest you remind Lucius he is no longer a member of the Board of Governors; as such, he should not be privy to such information in the first place. Good night."
"I'll be sure to remind him," said Amos with a nod.
He waited as Minerva led the Ministry delegation out of his study before stepping over to his candy dish. He popped a lemon drop into his mouth and started to pace again. His mind and heart were uneasy.
"Why now, Sirius," he asked himself as he came to cabinet containing his Pensieve. He pulled it out and brought it back to his desk. He placed the tip of his wand to his temple for a moment, his eyes closed tightly shut and spoke the incantation softly.
"Subsidium, Memoria." A moment later, a slim strand of glowing blue material stuck to the tip of his wand as he pulled it away from his temple. He flicked the substance into the Pensieve and swirled it once as an exact replica of the night's events appeared before him. He swirled it again. This time, the image was replaced with the face of an eleven year old boy with a lightning bold scar on his forehead. He looked down upon the image sadly.
"I'm running out of time, Harry," he said to the flickering image. He looked back to his desk where the damaged diary of Tom Riddle sat undisturbed, an object that worried him immensely and raised far more questions than it answered. Dumbledore loathed divination, but even he had to admit fate was conspiring against the boy. Indeed, the Penseive reflected his thoughts as the face of another person swirled into view; a woman wearing large glasses and dressed in several shawls with a crystal ball. He flicked his want in frustration.
"He's still just a boy," he said to himself. "Are you even aware of the fate you've given your godson, Sirius?" Another image swirled; Harry was standing before the mirror.
"A boy with a destiny and a great and terrible responsibility, Albus," said the portrait of Armando Dippit. "You cannot ignore it." Dumbledore did precisely that and ignored his predecessor. Many of the portraits were stirring now but Dumbledore's face was glued to the Pensive as another image swirled into focus. A voice echoed from the basin.
"I trust Sirius, Professor," said James, his young face defiant and brave.
"I am perfectly willing to be your Secret Keeper," said the Headmaster.
"Thank you, but it won't be necessary; Sirius will be our Secret Keeper."
"I'm so sorry, Harry," said Dumbledore aloud. "If I had only known then…"
Far to the south, hundreds of miles away, the boy named Harry Potter woke from troubled sleep.