4th August, evening, Auror Office's interrogation room, Ministry of Magic
"I will listen to you without interruptions, Mr. Potter, but this time you have to tell me everything just as it happened, without downplaying or exaggerating anything."
For a moment, Harry studied the witch's face. There was nothing mocking or malicious in her expression. The teen made his decision. He straightened in his seat, took a sip of the water and started to talk.
"My relatives and I don't get on well. We really hate each other. They like to punish me for everything that goes wrong in their house, even if they know that it couldn't have been my fault. They hate everything magical and especially witches and wizards. Petunia calls people like me freaks and Vernon's name for them is unnatural beasts or abominations. It has been going on as long as I can remember and there is more. When I still went to primary school, there had been a few times when I did accidental magic. When it happened, the Dursleys were furious and they locked me up without food. If they reacted like that when nothing happened to them or their things …"
Harry didn't finish the last sentence, but the four adults in the room understood what he wanted to tell them. Madame Bones gave him a long look, as if she was trying to ascertain that he was truthful. After a while she nodded, seeming satisfied.
"Mr. Potter, you do realize that this is another thing we need to deal with after we finish this business with your aunt and the names which came out of your wand?" she asked.
Harry nodded. "Yes, ma'am" he said quietly.
"Rufus will now continue his questioning and after that we will look into possible places where you could stay at least until the end of the holidays," said Madame Bones and turned to Scrimgeour: "Rufus, go on."
Harry returned his attention back to the man who sat on the opposite side of the table. Scrimgeour shifted in his chair to a more comfortable position and spoke:
"You know what I want you to speak about, Mr. Potter. Tell me the reason for what happened today with your relatives."
"It was Marge's behaviour. She had been visiting for five days and every day she had some insult to say about my parents or me. The Dursleys are usually content when I do my chores and get out of their sight, but she wanted me to be nearby so she could watch me and sometimes order me around. Tonight at dinner she once again started to insult my parents to my face and when I didn't react, she got worse and as good as called my mother a whore and my father a good for nothing drunk. When she did that, it was the last straw," confessed Harry. After telling someone about the Dursleys and Marge, even if they were complete strangers, he felt a bit lighter and more at peace.
Madame Bones frowned, but Scrimgeour's expression remained emotionless as he asked his next question.
"What did you do immediately after the incident?"
"I ran out of the kitchen and into my room. I took a few things-"
Here Scrimgeour interrupted: "Would those things be your wand, the vault key and the invisibility cloak we found?"
"Yes, sir," answered Harry and continued: "When I got the things, I ran back downstairs and to the front door, but the neighbours were already there, so I returned to the house and tried the back entrance. I got out and went to the first place I could think of to hide."
"If you didn't hurt your relatives on purpose, why didn't you wait for the Ministry wizards to arrive?" queried Scrimgeour
"Well, I was afraid of Vernon's reaction. Before, he didn't beat me, only pushed me around or he sometimes cuffed me on the head, but I thought that what happened with Marge could push him too far."
"Did you have any other reason to run?"
"Yes. You see, last summer I got an official warning for performing a hovering charm that I didn't do. The letter said that if something like that happened again, I would be expelled and have my wand snapped. A year ago nobody came to find out what had really happened, so when I blew up Marge, I thought that I had a choice between being blamed and punished without a chance to tell my side of the story, or running away. So I ran away."
"I see," said the Head Auror slowly and exchanged a look with Madame Bones. "So here we have yet another thing to talk about when we are finished with tonight's business, so let's get on with it. What happened after you left the house?"
"I ended up in a tree near the playground at Magnolia crescent and tried to think about what to do next," said Harry. "Eventually the policemen came, but they didn't notice me. After that I saw something moving in the shadow and felt something, a spell I suppose, brush me. Mr. Perks and three others appeared and you know the rest."
Scrimgeour nodded and pocketed the dicta-quill and the parchment with the record of their interview. Perks approached with a small glass vial which his superior took and then pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry. The teen instinctively tried to duck, almost overturning the chair he sat on and himself with it. The grey-haired Auror lowered his wand.
"Calm down, Mr. Potter," he said and in his voice could be heard a trace of irritation. "We would only like to extract your memory of the whole incident."
This didn't help Harry to get calmer. If anything, it just confused him and made him even more nervous. Once again, Madame Bones saved the situation.
"Mr. Potter, the memory would be a proof that what you say is true. When it is no longer needed, it can be returned back to your mind. Neither the extraction nor the return of memories hurt. Rufus will just place the tip of his wand against your temple and you'll need to concentrate on what happened tonight."
Harry took a calming breath and nodded. Scrimgeour once again lifted his wand and this time the memory extraction went well, but the teenager still thought that the sight of the silvery strand of something being pulled from his head was slightly disturbing.
The Head Auror handed the filled and capped vial to Madame Bones, who nodded in thanks and turned to speak to Harry.
"Mr. Potter, Head Auror Scrimgeour and I will now go and see your memory. If it corresponds with the answers you have given us, you are out of trouble when it comes to Miss Dursley. However, there is still the matter of your wand and the warning you got last year."
Harry just nodded, feeling relieved. He still wasn't completely calm, after all, when he and Ron went down to the Chamber, they broke a lot of rules, but he was safely out of what he considered the worst situation. Madame Bones smiled at him encouragingly and exited the interrogation room with Rufus Scrimgeour in tow.
Amelia and Rufus didn't say a word until they got to the DMLE director's office. Closing the door, Amelia checked if the various privacy charms were working properly. Satisfied, she turned to Scrimgeour:
"Rufus, tomorrow, while I'm talking with Mafalda, have a small group of trustworthy people go through her filing cabinet. Finding Potter's file is a priority, but after they do it, have them read the other files and watch for similar cases – warnings sent out, but no attempt at investigation."
"I'll see to it first thing in the morning," agreed the aging Auror. "What about Potter? Sending him back to his relatives is out of question, but with Black at large he can't just stay at the Leaky Cauldron for the rest of the summer."
"I was thinking about begging Alastor for a favour," answered Amelia. Having Harry Potter stay with her old friend and mentor seemed like the best and safest option. Moody could be brutally honest, but he wasn't in the habit of deliberately insulting and humiliating others, and Potter could learn a lot from him. There was also the fact that the retired Auror had a wide variety of wards around his home. Amelia's sleep would be a lot more peaceful if Moody agreed to help.
Scrimgeour didn't protest. His superior's idea was sensible and he couldn't think of anything better himself. "Let us see the memory," he suggested.
Amelia stood up, walked to one of the cabinets in the office, unlocked one of the drawers and pulled out a pensieve. Setting it on her desk, she took the vial containing the memory and poured the silvery substance into the stone bowl. Together with Scrimgeour she lowered her face to the surface of the swirling liquid and got sucked in.
When the pair emerged, they both had disgusted expressions on their faces. Scrimgeour was the first to speak.
"If that is their normal behaviour, I'm surprised that the kid didn't have such outburst earlier. And the neighbours advancing as a crowd of Inferi – you really can't wonder why he panicked."
Amelia agreed wholeheartedly. She used her wand to return the memory back to the vial and after re-locking the drawer containing the pensieve sat at her desk and pulled out a form from one of the neatly stacked folders. She filled it out and added her signature and an official stamp.
"Mr. Potter is out of trouble," she announced. "I think it would be best if we sorted out the rest tomorrow afternoon, when all people concerned are fully awake and alert."
Once again, the Head Auror didn't object. He took the filled and signed form and walked back to the interrogation room to give it to the teen, while his boss talked to Alastor Moody. He hoped that the old Auror would agree to take the kid in at least for one night and save them all some trouble. Enough had happened today. He added some extremely uncharitable thoughts about Mafalda Hopkirk, Dolores Umbridge and Cornelius Fudge, before settling for mentally bemoaning the fact that things go always wrong just after the majority of Aurors and Obliviators who have day-shift went home and just before the night-shift has arrived, and just when there is nobody but those who habitually work late at the Ministry.
Nearing the interrogation room, he saw a silver fox patronus float past him and towards his superior's office. The Head Auror got a bad feeling that this night was going to be very long.
4th August, evening, Hogwarts
Slowly walking towards her quarters, Irene McAdams contemplated everything she had seen and heard that day. Not long after the Deputy Headmistress stormed in and out of the staffroom and Filius Flitwick went off to give his lesson plans and booklist one last check, she and Batsheba Babbling finished their snack and went their own ways, the Ancient Runes professor still pondering who or what could have made professor McGonnagal so angry.
The young History teacher did not doubt she would soon contemplate the same subject herself, but for now her thoughts returned to the moment when she found out exactly how behind in History the local students were. No wonder British wizards were often arrogant or bigoted if their History teacher constantly presented wizards as a race that is always in the right and if he accidentally held a lecture about the culture and customs of goblins or centaurs, then the lecture would be so boring that the students fall asleep.
Then her thoughts turned to her colleagues. Most of them were polite and pleasant people with whom she would enjoy working, but there were exceptions. First of them was professor Sinistra, who kept sending her disapproving glances, but Irene wouldn't get too upset about her – that was, she wouldn't get upset if the Astronomy professor wouldn't add disparaging remarks to her glares. If she did so, there would be a tongue-lashing reserved just for her.
The second exception was professor Snape, in whose presence she always felt wary. They hadn't been interacting much, apart from the occasional greeting, but she noticed him studying her just like her father's friend Charles Brown studied his potion ingredients immediately before cutting them into pieces. Then there were the vitriolic comments. None of them had been aimed at her yet, but it was clear that Snape was more than capable of being extremely nasty. Just as with Sinistra, Irene wouldn't start any verbal or physical attacks, but if the potions master did so, she would defend herself.
Upon reaching her quarters, Irene saw that a metal box on her desk was pulsating with blue light. She smiled and opened it, finding a letter from her father and others from her American friends inside. She put them to the side to be read after she finished her lesson plans. That way, she would have an inducement to work faster.
Irene's plan worked well. Not too much later she finished the plans for the last two years, stuffed them into a folder and started reading the letter from her father:
Dear Irene,
Things in Northern America are beginning to get interesting – well, at least the things in the wizarding world. Two days ago I had dinner with Canadian ICW representative who ranted and raved about Britsh wizards and their "backwards, idiotic laws". Apparently, the head of his security detail and other two members are werewolves, and as you know, British laws discriminate against them, be they British or foreign citizens.
It also looks like Mr. Chalmers has either complained about the matter before without putting up privacy charms, which I doubt, or someone from his office talked to the press, because the day after we dined together, there had appeared a well-researched article about the problem. People both here and in Canada are already getting curious even though the real fun will start months later. At this rate I wouldn't be surprised if Wizarding Britain ends up with some sort of international supervision.
But enough about politics. How are you adapting to your new post? Did you already need some physical outlet for frustration? Write back soon and tell me about Hogwarts.
Love, dad.
Irene put the letter on her desk and lost herself in thought. It seemed that she was about to witness first-hand the changes that would shake the foundations of a community which had been too set in its ways for too long, and if her father got involved in the business, she would cheer him on and help as she was able to.
4th August, evening, Ministry of Magic
Auror John Dawlish longed to plop himself down in a comfortable armchair and sip a glass of Ogden's finest, but alas, there would probably be no rest for him today. He wanted to curse Fudge and the obliviators. Apparently, the minister for some reason decided to interfere in tonight's case, the muggle Aurors wouldn't allow it and arrested him. Then, the obliviators appeared out of nowhere, intending to start their job immediately, but the muggles liked it even less and it all ended with two snapped wands for the wizards and cuts and bruises on both sides. Dawlish thanked Merlin that Williamson somehow knew what to do, because if he hadn't…
The Auror interrupted his musings and nearly let out a stream of expletives. Two of the floos in the Atrium flared green. From one of them exited Albus Dumbledore, who immediately headed for the elevators, and Lucius Malfoy strode from the other, tossing his white blonde hair over his shoulder as he followed Dumbledore.
Dawlish didn't doubt that the two were here to stick their noses in Scrimgeour's and Bones' work. He also didn't doubt that both of his superiors would be furious if their subordinate saw the two wizards and sent no warning. He whipped out his wand and got his patronus to tell Madame Bones that trouble was headed her way. With any luck she would get the message in time.
Amelia Bones felt a wave of relief when Alastor Moody agreed to take Harry Potter in for the rest of the summer. He needed no convincing and Amelia could almost hear him thinking about what he would teach the teen.
"I don't know how to thank you, Alastor," she said with a relieved sigh.
"A bottle of firewhiskey will be enough," quipped Moody.
The DMLE director smiled and said: "Seriously, Alastor, I owe you a favour."
But the old Auror would have none of it.
"You have enough on your plate and you'll have even more. I won't ask anything from you, except that one bottle."
"Very well then," surrendered Amelia. "I'll send the boy here right away."
Moody nodded and the DMLE head pulled her head out of the floo, only to notice that there was a patronus floating in front of her desk. The silver fox spoke with the voice of John Dawlish:
"Madame, Dumbledore and Malfoy are heading for your office."
Amelia cursed. Having those two around was the last thing she needed right now. She gripped her wand and sent out her own patronus with a message to Rufus Scrimgeour. Hopefully Potter would be safe at Moody's house when the two manipulators arrived.
Head Auror Scrimgeour and Madame Bones had not been away long, but to Harry it seemed like hours. The interrogation room was quiet except for the occasional rustle of the remaining two Aurors' robes. The teen was still quite nervous. Yes, he had been told that he was out of the worst trouble, but he expected something else to go wrong, as it usually did.
The door was opened and Scrimgeour entered, holding in his hand some kind of official document. He handed the parchment to Harry and said:
"It is now official that you didn't hurt your relatives intentionally, Mr. Potter. We are now looking for a place where you could stay until September and we will also contact Wizarding Child Protection Service. Oh, and one last thing – we recommend that you should look up and practice at least the basics of meditation and occlumency to prevent any more incidents."
At that moment a silver badger floated into the room and spoke in Madame Bones' voice:
"Moody agreed to help. Come to my office at once, two white haired menaces were spotted in the atrium."
Scrimgeour marched back to the door, motioning for Harry to follow him. The teen did so immediately. He didn't know who the "white haired menaces" were, but from the tone of Madame Bones' voice he figured that they were trouble.
The head Auror and the teen walked swiftly through the corridor, Harry almost running to keep up with Scrimgeour's longer strides. An intricately carved double door at the very end of the corridor opened and they could see Madame Bones standing on the threshold, urging them to go faster. They obeyed. Not half a minute later Harry found himself standing in front of a large fireplace in the DMLE head's office. The witch grabbed some floo powder from the mantel, threw it in the flames and as soon as they changed colour she stuffed Harry in and called:
"Moody's house. Vigilant and dead."
Harry realized that the second half of Madame Bones' statement must have been a password, before everything started spinning and he lost any inclination to think. After a while he felt the spinning slow and stumbled out of the floo into a simply furnished but still comfortable living room. He was greeted by a dangerous looking grey-haired man with a wooden leg and electrically blue magical glass eye, which constantly turned around in its socket.
"Name's Alastor Moody. You are stuck here for the rest of August, lad, so we'll make a good use of the time. Your room is upstairs, first door on the left and the bathroom is at the end of the hall. Be down in the kitchen tomorrow at seven. We start lessons just after breakfast."
Harry just nodded dumbly, too shocked to do something else and did as he was told. What had he just got himself into?