Chapter 2

21st December 2000

Daily Prophet, Morning Edition

Department of Mysteries Mayhem!

On the 19th of December, at around 6.30 in the evening, Department of Magical Law Enforcement employee, Roger Egelbert, went on a rampage through the Department of Mysteries, only ending when his life was lost in an extended skirmish with officers from the Magical Law Enforcement Department.

During his rampage, Egelbert killed three Unspeakables and injured five more. Two Aurors were also injured in the ensuing battle, but both only sustained minor injuries.

The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amanda Blishwick, stated, 'These actions were the actions of one man and one man only. At this time, we have not confirmed his motive, but it was evident that the perpetrator was mentally unsound.'

Egelbert, a 39-year-old muggleborn, was imprisoned in Azkaban from August 1997 to March 1998. After release, he only had minor duties in the Department due to his condition.

In an anonymous statement to the Prophet, an Auror stated, 'He was never the same when he came back—didn't talk, didn't socialise—just sat at his desk doing paperwork.'

This incident has led to increased concerns about the health of those imprisoned in Azkaban. Lucius Malfoy, a respected Wizengamot member and survivor of the second war, believes that employees of the Ministry who faced Azkaban need to face stringent testing before they are allowed back into society.

'As a survivor myself, I know the impact that Azkaban can have on a witch or wizard,' Malfoy stated in an interview with him yesterday.

'I immediately sought treatment from respected Healers, but not everyone has the same respect for our magical community—I hope that the Minister is working quickly to fix this problem,' stated Malfoy, who has recently criticized the Minister of Magic for his inaction in the face of the magical community's decline.

Was this an isolated incident? Or is this the start of a new reign of terror? Time will tell, but I know I can rest easy with our country in the hands of upstanding wizards and witches like Amanda Blishwick and Lucius Malfoy.

To read the entire interview with Lucius Malfoy, turn to page 5.

9.24am, 21st December 2000

Number 12 Grimmauld Place, London

Harry felt his tea threaten to reappear, his eyes darting over the front-page article on the Daily Prophet. Hands shaking in disgust, anger, fear—he wasn't quite sure—he laid the paper back down, a photo of Director Blishwick gracing the cover, a grim expression on her weathered face.

He wasn't sure what magical Britain would be like when they came back—he hadn't expected perfect but he had thought it would be better at least. But now… Lucius Malfoy still had his slimy hands in people's pockets, people were still dying. Harry grabbed fistfuls of his hair, his body simmering with rage.

What did Albus tell me? Harry remembered a weary Albus Dumbledore, his voice grave but soothing, counselling Harry when he was an angry and frightened teenager. When the time comes, they will take up wands for us, sing their spells and lay their lives on the line. But before that, they do not want or know how to fight. So, they look to us. It is our burden to fight, to work our hardest every day for the good of all. Fate chose us—our only choice is whether we will answer her call.

Harry breathed deeply, remembering those few scant occasions when Dumbledore let his guard down, his aged shoulders sagging and looking impossibly frail for a man who exuded power. Pressing his fingers to his eyelids, he felt a sense of hopelessness—was that his fate? To fight his whole life, Dark Lords and dark creatures in an endless procession until he finally passed the responsibility on to another, another person to fight their whole life in vain.

The gnawing feeling in his gut only grew. 'I don't want this,' Harry mumbled to himself, 'I never did.'

At this moment, the floo activated, Sirius stumbling in with wild eyes. Ashen faced, he slammed the Prophet down on the table. 'Have you seen this?' Sirius asked Harry, before noticing the newspaper laying in front of him. Not waiting for Harry's reply, he collapsed into a chair, his fists clenched.

Harry nodded, lifting the Prophet in response.

'Lucius bloody Malfoy,' Sirius raged, his voice growing dark. 'I should have just killed him when I had the chance.'

'We both had the chance,' Harry said, his own voice sounding faint to his ears. 'I didn't think that he'd escape Azkaban again.'

'Well who would!' Sirius nearly exploded, fingering his wand. 'I'll be having words with Shacklebolt, finding out what the fuck he did.'

'I don't think he lasted long at Minister,' Harry said, reading from the Prophet. 'Got the minister's statement about yesterday in here. Says that the Minister for the last two years has been Francis Selwyn.'

Sirius hesitated for a second, his eyes growing wide. 'Wasn't there a death eater named Selwyn? I'm pretty sure there was a death eater named Selwyn,' said Sirius, his voice getting slightly hysterical.

'It's not him,' Harry said, remembering the final battle. In an effort to obtain Hufflepuff's Cup from Gringotts, they had lured Bellatrix into a trap and with her their prisoner, had attempted to sneak into the bank under the guidance of Bill Weasley. Their plans had quickly fallen apart however, and while they had destroyed the Cup, they had also been engaged in a full-scale battle with Voldemort and his forces. Ultimately, they were the victors, but there had been many losses on both sides.

'That Selwyn died at Gringotts,' Harry continued, grimacing in remembrance. 'Some goblins got him I think. Not much was left.'

'Oh, that's right,' said Sirius, calming slightly. 'Still, he must have ties to him at least.'

Harry hesitated, carefully not looking at Sirius. 'I don't think we can say anything for certain without more information Sirius,' Harry said, before adding in a low voice 'I know people have said the same thing about you.'

Harry's words took all the wind out of Sirius as he slumped into his seat. Gathering the paper in his hands, Sirius lobbed it at the smouldering fire, his face showing his annoyance.

'We can ask Tonks about him… and everything else,' Harry said shortly, loathe to mar the day with more talk of the grim situation.

'We'll play it by ear I guess,' Sirius sighed, flipping open his pocket watch. 'I think I'll set up a meeting with the Order, or at least Minerva and Kingsley. Get everything on the table.' Sirius snapped his watch shut, clapping his hands and jumping to his feet.

'Enough for now, we've got a little marauder to corrupt,' Sirius said, as he bounded towards the front door. Laughing, Harry followed him, happy to leave the subject for now—but in the pit of his stomach, he could feel a heavy ball of apprehension growing.

9.59am, 21st December 2000

Willbury Lane, Chipping Camden, Gloucestershire

Tonks met them at the door, coloured like a Christmas tree, chivvying them out of the cold. Harry could hear squeals of laughter echoing down the hall. Wiping his hands on his coat as he hung it from the stand, he nervously trailed Tonks and Sirius into the living room decorated with strings of red and green streamers.

He entered to find a clapping toddler, chubby and pink, Teddy's hair changing colour with the sofa as Andromeda laughingly used a colour change charm on it. Harry spent a moment studying Andromeda, who he had only seen at a distance during the week of funerals after the final battle. She mirrored Sirius—elegant lines but the aristocratic features abandoned in favour of laugh lines and kind smiles. Sirius had warned him that she had some resemblance to Bellatrix, but Harry found it easy to disregard the similarity in this loud room filled with bright laughter.

At the sight of them, Teddy stilled, his face gone wary. Harry rocked nervously under the scrutiny while Andromeda greeted Sirius enthusiastically—blood was apparently not the only thing they shared. After greeting Sirius, Andromeda faced Harry, the same smile—cheeky with a hint of mischief—that she shared with her daughter and Sirius adorning her face.

'Harry!' Andromeda hugged him tightly, squeezing Harry's breath from him. Drawing back, she patted his cheek lightly. 'It's been so long. You look just like your father.'

Harry's face burned and snickering could be heard behind him. 'I'm sorry, I can't quite remember when we met, Mrs Tonks,' he said.

Andromeda only smirked in reply, eyeing Sirius who paled under her gaze.

'It's just Andi, dear. And no wonder—I doubt Sirius would have told you. He'd been taking care of you for about a week before I got this absolutely desperate Floo call from Sirius asking me if I had any milk. And could I just bring it through while he watched the stove?' She laughed and Sirius squirmed where he was standing, attempting to ignore the story. 'Well, Sirius was always horribly stubborn about asking for help. I came through the Floo and his flat was a disaster—clothes and toys everywhere—he shoved you, screaming your little lungs out, into my hands and told me to just look after you while he stepped out for a minute.' She narrowed her eyes at Sirius, who was looking anywhere but her. 'I'm certain he went down to the pub.'

Harry snorted into his hand while Tonks giggled in the background, Teddy holding tightly to her leg.

Andromeda sighed before looking back at Harry, her eyes soft. 'But he came back—I spent more than a few days teaching him how to care for you in those early days before you went into hiding. And I'm certain he's done a very good job by the look of you now.'

Harry could feel his face grow hot again and desperately wished that this sort of treatment wasn't going to become the norm when reintroducing himself to Magical Britain. He certainly appreciated the sentiment, but he was a grown man—he didn't need to be cooed over.

'Leave poor Harry alone,' Tonks scolded, though she couldn't contain her smile. 'I've got a little man here to meet his uncles.'

Harry swallowed nervously, as Tonks walked forward leading an uncertain Teddy by the hand. When she reached him, Tonks crouched down, smiling gently at Teddy.

'This is your Uncle Harry, Teddy,' Tonks said, pushing him towards Harry, holding up a small hand for Harry to shake. Harry smiled shakily, his mouth too dry to form words.

Teddy peered at him uncertainly, but seemed to come to a decision. He leaned forward as if to whisper. 'Did you really fight a dragon?' he said, his little eyes growing wide.

'Teddy!'

Tonks' scolding startled Teddy into pouting but Harry laughed in reply. 'I don't know if I fought a dragon Teddy, I was too busy running from it.'

'Wow,' Teddy said, his face struck by awe. Harry found he didn't mind it too much coming from Teddy. In fact, he thought he might rather like it.

Sirius laughed, sweeping up a squealing Teddy. 'And I, am your greatest uncle, Sirius Black,' Sirius said, tweaking the boy's nose. 'I've fought ten dragons by myself—and won! Saved young Harry here from roasting more than a few times.'

If possible, Teddy's eyes grew even wider. 'Really?' he asked excitedly, squirming in Sirius' grip.

'Your Uncle Sirius is a liar, Teddy—don't listen to a word he says,' Tonks said, plucking him from Sirius' arms and setting him jumping on the floor. 'Why don't you show your uncles all your toys? I'm sure they'd be happy to play with you,' Tonks finished, a wicked smile on her face.

Harry found himself and Sirius being tugged along by Teddy, smiling down at the bouncing little boy as he beamed at his two new uncles.

'Have fun you lot,' Tonks called, ushering Andi towards the kitchen. 'Oh, and make sure you clean them all up once you're done.'

'They're in here,' Teddy said pointing at a cupboard, waiting for Sirius and Harry to open it. Harry shrugged at Sirius and pulled it open—immediately, an avalanche of toys fell forth, causing Harry to jump back from the door, watching in disbelief as the closet dumped toys all over the room.

'Is this everything we ever sent?' Harry said, eyeing fanged frisbees—with real dragon teeth—from Romania snap at the air, miniature mummies from Egypt flailing their weak limbs, toy broomsticks ranging from the ridiculous—an eyewatering green and gold one from Australia—to the finest—a sleek Mini-Firebolt, that Harry had owl-ordered the day it was released; stooping, Harry snatched up a golden snitch fluttering around his ankles. Sirius had gotten a bit overzealous and sent Teddy a whole quidditch set.

'Mum took my bludgers away because they broke the windows,' Teddy pouted, but was soon distracted. Out of the corner of Harry's eye, he saw Teddy lob something into the air.

'Catch!' Teddy shrieked.

Yelping, Harry and Sirius took cover, diving into the piles of toys while fanged frisbees spun through the air. I didn't think buying Teddy so many presents would come back to bite me quite like this, Harry thought, dodging the projectiles to the sound of Sirius' swearing and Teddy's laughter, which mingled with what sounded suspiciously like the two older Tonks' snickering in the kitchen.

...

'How do you do it?' Sirius wailed, slumped in his chair at the kitchen table. 'I don't think I've ever been this tired.'

Harry laughed, weariness setting into his bones. Teddy had kept him and Sirius on the run for several hours, jumping from toy to toy with a seemingly boundless energy. Until he had crashed, the excitement finally run out. Andi had only just taken a weakly protesting Teddy for a nap now, the little boy's eyelids drooping as she carried him down the hall.

'You're an old man, Sirius,' Tonks laughed, 'I'm sure Harry was the same at his age.'

'Compared to Harry, Teddy's a monster,' Sirius complained.

'Do not… call him that,' Tonks said, her tone restrained but her face bleak. Harry straightened, feeling the merry mood drain away, his thoughts returning to the news brought by the Prophet that Teddy had managed to banish, if for only a little while.

Sirius blanched, before his countenance grew angry. Harry could see him grip the table tightly. Restraint, was a trait Sirius valued highly, taught to him through harsh lessons in his youth. At the moment, Harry could tell he was struggling not to leap to conclusions, but he too feared the worst.

'How bad is it Tonks?' Sirius asked tightly, lowly.

While Harry and Sirius had straightened, full of righteous anger, Tonks had sunk down, all emotion bleeding out of her until on sadness and tiredness remained.

'It's not… it's not that bad… not yet at least. The hate towards muggles and muggleborns seems to have largely vanished but only because no one wants to be equated with death eaters now. Werewolves or half-breeds on the other hand… well, they're easy targets aren't they. Greyback certainly left an impression on people,' Tonks finished in a scratchy voice.

Sirius cursed. 'Who?'

'It isn't just a few Sirius, its everybody, ministry officials, purebloods, muggleborns, they all want to blame someone. My baby is just an easy target.'

'What have they done?'

'To him? Not let their own children too close to him for a start. Mostly just muttering and looks. I've been pushed out though,' Tonks said.

'Pushed out?' asked Harry.

'The ministry doesn't have room for me in the field or in the office anymore. By the time I was ready to return, training the new recruits was all they would use me for.'

'What about Kingsley? What about the other order members working there?' Sirius said as he got up to pace the room.

'Not much he could do. He'd already gone back down to Senior Auror. The elections for the new minister were within six months of Kingsley's term.'

Sirius faltered, before resuming his furious pacing. Harry's mind wandered back to the morning Prophet. 'What about this Egelbert bloke?' Harry questioned, hoping to find something to go on.

If anything, Tonks got paler. 'He is… was… a good man… He was one of the first to be taken by the Muggleborn Registration Committee. The man I knew wouldn't have done what they said,' Tonks paused, her eyes shiny. 'He had a wife and two young boys—she was a muggle… we tried to take them into hiding but they were already missing. There was a struggle in their home but they stood no chance.'

'Azkaban as well?' Sirius growled.

'No… I don't think we ever found out what happened to them.'

8.36pm, 21st December 2000

Number 12 Grimmauld Place, London

The dying fire cast dim shadows on the stone walls, flickering in and out of view. Harry sat, head resting on the table, a fifth of firewhisky in his hand. Across from him, Sirius fidgeted, running his finger around his glass. They had returned from Tonks' house, sober and depressed, when Sirius had decided he'd rather be drunk and depressed. What Tonks had told them had ruined what should have been a wonderful day. Ever since that conversation, Harry's brain had been buzzing; fear and anger running amok, half-formed enemies tumbling through his mind.

'It's fucked up.'

Harry raised his head, watching Sirius seethe.

'Albus died for them. Remus died for them. James and Lily died for them. And they don't give a bloody damn!' Sirius threw the glass at the fireplace, sizzling and shattering.

'They deserve better,' Sirius said, breathing heavily. 'Merlin, they deserve it.'

Harry watched him for a moment before opening his mouth, unsure of what to say next. He knew what he wanted, however. The draw, the need, to do something had been building up since he saw the Prophet this morning. If he were honest, it had been building up for far longer—mercenary work could never be the same as fighting for your family, for your home.

'So, we fight.' Harry's statement hung in the air between them. They both knew the costs of war. This would be no different.

'I don't think we can blast our way through this one, Harry,' Sirius sighed.

'Albus and Remus did teach me other things,' Harry said dryly. 'It wasn't all magic. The ins and outs of politics, how to use my fame, the history of magic, pureblood etiquette—we didn't know if I would need to navigate the press and the ministry during the war.'

'You want to fight them… without magic?'

'We'll need to use everything we have Sirius. They're certainly not going to fight fair. Merlin, we have to change centuries worth of prejudices and conflict. This won't be easy.'

Sirius eyed Harry for a moment before a wry grin curled his mouth. 'Guess I better brush up on those lessons my father insisted on teaching me,' he said with distaste.

'Lessons?' Harry asked, surprised by the change in subject.

'Etiquette, family obligations, Ministry and Wizengamot regulations. Horribly boring for a child like me,' Sirius said with a grin. 'I made sure Remus would teach you the same.'

'Wait… you suggested it? Why did you do that to me? And why didn't you suggest we fight if you already knew?

'Well, I had to make sure I remained your favourite somehow. I know Remus used to sneak you chocolate frogs by the way, the sneaky bugger. As for the other…' Sirius paused, his eyes boring into Harry's, bright pinpricks in the gloom. 'I've always called the shots. I figure it's time for you to take control, choose your own life.'

Struck, Harry paused, staring at Sirius. 'You never had a choice either.'

'I… am right where I want to be.'

'I don't think I can walk away.' asked Harry.

'Good, because as much as I'd like for you to be safe, I'd rather you be happy. And I don't think you can truly be happy unless you fight for it. Besides, might be fun to shake things up a bit,' Sirius grinned.

'We're doing this then.'

'Black and Potter.'

'Black and Potter.'