A Knut to Start the Revolution
Chapter 9

Disclaimer: This work of fan-fiction is not intended for personal profit. All characters utilized herein which are not creations of myself belong to J. K. Rowling.


Harry read over the letter he got from Amelia Bones.

Dear Mr Potter,

First of all, your suggestion that I contact Albus Dumbledore to initiate removal proceedings is a bit presumptuous, but for all that I wish to inform you that there is indeed a minor spate of rumblings in the Ministry and the Wizengamot regarding the question of whether Cornelius Fudge ought to be replaced as Minister for Magic. I realise you have your personal issues with him, but you should be aware that it is not your place to summarily imply that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement should drop all its other duties and initiate Wizengamot proceedings. I would have to spend several hours chairing the proceedings and arrange for adequate security.

Harry winced and realised he could have phrased his earlier letter a bit more like an inquiry and less like a command.

Second, as to the Potter seat. Apparently you are entitled to a seat on the Wizengamot. Albus Dumbledore, as Chief Warlock, would be able to inform you more fully than I can as to your rights and responsibilities as regards the Potter seat.

Sincerely,

Amelia Bones
Head, Department of Magical Law Enforcement

Harry scowled and wondered why Dumbledore hadn't at least prepared him for more 'adult' responsibilities in his fourth year, though in retrospect he supposed it might have been more distracting than useful when trying to succeed at the Tasks in the Triwizard Tournament. And though it hurt to remember the way Dumbledore had distanced himself so much in fifth year, Harry sighed and supposed his tutelage couldn't have occurred then.

It still rankled, though, that people like Draco Malfoy got a leg up in the magical world and he'd been left to basically flounder about, picking up bits and pieces on his own. So much for people believing there was a special bond between him and the Headmaster!

He grabbed up the messenger parchment and scribbled out a new message.

Headmaster Dumbledore,

I have just been informed that there is a strong likelihood that I may have a seat on the Wizengamot. Would you be so kind as to inform me on this subject and, presumably, rectify any other gaps in my knowledge of the adult magical world of which I have not, until now, been informed?

Please let me know as soon as possible when we can meet to discuss this matter.

- Harry.

Harry thought he also ought to look into an exercise program of some kind, if he were going to be serious about being able to fight Death Eaters at an advantage rather than a disadvantage. The majority of them were older, presumably had held desk jobs for the last several years of peace, and only held the advantage because of the old memories their robes and masks brought on, as well as the fact that they probably attacked Muggles more than other wizards.

/\/\/\

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, was currently admiring the packet of chocolate, called a Snickers Bar, when the messenger parchment he had gave off a dulcet ping. The last time he'd seen it in action was when the boy had sent him the message asking for training. Amelia Bones had fire-called him previously, alerting him to the likelihood that the Wizengamot would have to self-convene for the purposes of a vote of no confidence in Minister Fudge. She had also pried loose from him the fact that he had been keeping the Potter seat vacant for years. Uncomfortably, he realised this meant Harry might soon want to sit on the Wizengamot.

Dumbledore fully realised that Cornelius Fudge was, on the whole, a liability rather than an asset. Nonetheless, he believed in the maxim, "the devil you know is better than the devil you don't." By not shoving out the Minister for Magic, he was able to keep an eye on Lucius Malfoy and other wealthy purebloods that made a habit of bribery and corruption when it came to getting access to Ministry funds.

He would never be so willing to openly label the man an idiot and a fool, unlike his clear impression from Harry's mind at their last meeting at Hogwarts as to the contempt with which the Boy Who Lived regarded the Minister. But the messenger parchment...

Albus after reading it, he cursed himself for having caused an unavoidable rift between him and the boy. He hadn't missed that crack about him being safe from his uncle and cousin in the last missive, and after consulting with Arabella Figg, he had been forced to admit that he had been willing to overlook Harry being bullied by his cousin, on the grounds that there were larger dangers (although, in retrospect, anyone even attempting to kidnap the Boy Who Lived would have been immediately railroaded into Azkaban at the time).

It was only now that Harry was finding out he was entitled to a lot more than he'd previously thought; again, Dumbledore could only chastise himself for not having introduced all this to Harry years before, so that Harry would be ready to assume his adult duties with the full confidence that Albus would back him up without reservation.

Without much enthusiasm, Albus unwrapped the Snickers Bar and half-heartedly chewed as he pondered how best to reply. After a minute, he decided it would be best to contact Shacklebolt and Tonks (and maybe even Mad-Eye would be willing to handle some of the training, if the Ministry got suspicious about the Aurors' irregular schedule), and prepare the Weasleys for Harry's all-but-inevitable arrival at The Burrow. If Harry would just consent to about three weeks' worth of intense training, the remainder could be handled through the rest of summer, then his sixth and seventh years. Dumbledore hoped against hope that he could stave off Voldemort for just two more years, so that Harry would be fully prepared to take the steps needed to vanquish the snake-faced b—ah, so-and-so.

He decided he also needed to meet with Harry very soon and begin educating the boy on his soon-to-be adult responsibilities.

Albus had never felt all hundred and fifty-odd years of his age so much as he did that day, and wearily wondered, for the first time, if perhaps he was being overoptimistic about living to see even a hundred and sixty.

/\/\/\

At the same time as Dumbledore was considering the training and education of Harry Potter, Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, was issuing a series of orders. He then composed a letter.

Dear Mr Potter,

While we have not had the most cordial interactions in the past, I would like to rectify that with the following:

First, reliable eyewitnesses have confirmed that Sirius Black, your godfather, was in fact not the culprit who killed thirteen Muggles and that Peter Pettigrew, the alleged victim, is in fact alive.

Cornelius swallowed his pride, and wrote the next sentence.

I must humbly apologise to you for refusing to believe you three years ago when you stated that Sirius Black was innocent and that Peter Pettigrew was alive.

It still galled him to have to do this, write to a sixteen-year-old, Boy Who Lived, Chosen One, or whatever. But it might save his political career, so he continued.

Second, I have terminated the manhunt for Sirius Black and have voided the Order of Merlin, First Class, awarded to Peter Pettigrew. If you request, I can award a posthumous Order of Merlin to Sirius Black instead.

Yours,
Cornelius Fudge
Minister for Magic, United Kingdom

Sighing, Cornelius called Percy Weasley into his office and said, "See that this gets sent out as quickly as possible."

Percy looked askance at the addressee. Cornelius, irritated, said, "Just get the bloody thing in an envelope and get it sent! What do I pay you for, anyway?"

His Junior Assistant left in a flash, and Cornelius thought longingly of the bottle of whiskey he kept in his desk.

/\/\/\

The day after, Albus Dumbledore met with Harry Potter. He had arrived the 'normal' way, or at least to the extent that his arrival was normal for the Dursleys.

Harry's first indication that the knock at the door portended something unusual was when Uncle Vernon bellowed, "Boy! It's that—that Headmaster of yours! Get down here!"

Harry bounced to his feet, made sure his clothes were passably normal, and rushed to the top of the stairs to be greeted with a bizarrely normal scene.

Headmaster Dumbledore was present in a purple suit of uncertain vintage, but which looked vaguely old-fashioned. He stood serenely contemplating the front entryway as Uncle Vernon matched that suit's particular shade in his beady-eyed righteous indignation. Aunt Petunia nervously flicked her eyes to the door and the windows, though the door was closed and the drapes pulled to. Dudley was eyeing the Headmaster with trepidation.

Dumbledore noticed Harry and he smiled slightly. "Harry, I am pleased to see that you appear to be well. I have come to discuss some things with your relatives, and presume you wish to be present."

Uncle Vernon growled, "You will, will you? I tell you, I'll have no such thing!"

Dumbledore turned a steely gaze onto Uncle Vernon. He said, "We can either discuss this calmly, or we can discuss this with considerable inconvenience to you, your wife and your son. I would strongly suggest you bring your wife and son into the living room now."

Harry, unsure as to what was going to happen, waited until Uncle Vernon was well into the living room with Aunt Petunia and Dudley following, and Dumbledore bringing up the rear. After that, he guardedly descended the stairway and found a seat furthest away from his relatives, who had collectively decided to sit on the couch with a good deal of ill grace.

Dumbledore turned his head towards the telly, which had been left on. He flicked his wand, pointing it at the telly, which obligingly turned off. He said, "I have heard people call that device the 'idiot box', so we will now conduct our business without it lowering our mental faculties."

He regarded Harry for a moment, and then turned back to the Dursleys.

"I will not pretend that you have invited me inside entirely willingly, so I will dispense with the usual formalities. I am disappointed. When I spoke with you, Petunia Dursley, all those years ago, I entreated you to take in Lily's child. I left a letter further explaining things when I left young Harry with you. I expected that you would be able to treat Lily's child as your own. I expected that you could cause Mr Dursley to treat Harry on an equal basis with Dudley.

"You, Vernon and Petunia Dursley, have not done this. In every sense of the word, you have failed. You have failed Harry, most of all. You have failed me. You have failed even your son. The saddest aspect is that you have failed yourselves as decent human beings. I have come here to settle accounts on Harry's behalf."

Dumbledore's voice grew severe. "I will remind you that Harry is well-regarded in our world, and that there are many individuals who might seek to operate outside legal avenues to redress what they would rightly see as Harry's grievances should his situation become generally known. If I find out about any more untoward behaviour towards Harry, I shall inform the people who warned you about your behaviour at the end of Harry's school year. They would be very interested in acting should such information come to light. Am I in any way unclear?"

None of Harry's relatives could bring themselves to say anything. Dumbledore stood and said, "Very well. I shall speak with Harry in private, and then I shall depart. I expect that in a year's time, you will once again give Harry houseroom until he reaches seventeen years of age. At that point, he will no longer require the protections this house provides for him."

Harry rose, and wordlessly left the room with Dumbledore. No further exchanges occurred until they entered Harry's magically-expanded bedroom.

At once, the steely resolve that Dumbledore displayed seemed to leave, and the old Headmaster seemed to deflate. He conjured a chintz armchair with apparent resignation, and seated himself heavily. Harry, uncertain, sat warily at the edge of his bed. "Headmaster?"

Dumbledore regarded him steadily. He sighed and said, "One look at the minds of your relatives was all I needed to know how badly I have failed you. Petunia Dursley, much like Severus Snape, seems to have found old wounds impossible to heal. But I came here on other matters. You have been practicing Occlumency?"

"Yes."

"Good. I should like to briefly test your mental shielding. Hestia Jones has found that she has quite the facility for it and I shall send her over to begin working with you on the subject. I will test you again after she is confident that you have mastered the techniques. Are you ready?"

Harry began raising his shields, and nodded.

"Legilimens."

A pressing feeling on his head was the only indication that Dumbledore was employing Legilimency, but after what seemed a few moments Harry's shields began to weaken and he felt memories beginning to come forth.

At that point, Dumbledore broke the connection and said, "Good. It appears that Voldemort's absence from your mind and your study from the books I see in this room have had salutary effects. Now, as to the Potter seat on the Wizengamot."

A little heatedly, Harry said, "Yes. What about it? I'm sick of people like Malfoy waltzing around as though being told everything about the wizarding world was some kind of virtue. He used to always go on about his dad this and his dad that. I tell you, I got deathly sick of it. We both know Lucius Malfoy used to have a lot of power in the wizarding world and it's about time I found out if I have any of my own."

"I hope to rectify this with you. First of all, I have held the Potter seat vacant all these years. The reason was that, as you know, Sirius Black was sent to Azkaban without trial. Peter Pettigrew was assumed to be dead, and while not many people knew of Remus Lupin's condition, had it become widely known the Wizengamot could easily have chosen to deny him effective representation by scheduling meetings on the full moon. It was also felt in the Order that perhaps Remus did not fully enjoy James's confidence and I may have allowed that to influence me in choosing to leave the seat empty. I apologise for this."

Harry pursed his lips, considering. "All right, then. So when can I hold the seat?"

Dumbledore consulted his watch and seemed to do a quick mental calculation. He said, "The next non-judicial Wizengamot session, by coincidence, happens to be on July thirty-first. We traditionally meet in the afternoon at Courtroom Ten in the Ministry, in closed session. I believe Fawkes would be willing to transport you there if you wish. I will place your accession to that seat on the agenda; the process should be a formality."

"Okay. What else should I know about Wizengamot seats?"

"A person with full rights and privileges attached to a seat, such as you, has the right to vote at all non-judicial proceedings, and to sit as part of judicial proceedings. Additionally a full member usually ascends by inheritance of the seat, and in turn his or her descendants can inherit the seat. A proxy member, which is how I would have appointed Remus Lupin, does not have the power to inherit or pass on the seat, but otherwise can vote according to his or her conscience absent direction from the owner of the seat. Werewolves are usually legally denied the right to inherit seats on the Wizengamot, but considerable latitude is granted as far as the right of appointment of proxy members. You will be able to make a profound political statement by a wise choice of proxy."

Harry paused and considered for a while. He then remembered something else and said, "Um, by the way, Professor Lupin said something about a problem with Headquarters; haven't the Ministry sorted that out yet?"

Almost as though that were a signal, a dignified-looking Ministry owl swooped into Harry's room and deposited an envelope. Dumbledore seemed to recognise the handwriting, for he appeared to be bracing for something.

Puzzled, Harry ripped open the envelope and read the letter inside. Oh, he thought. Dumbledore must have thought I'd explode after reading what that oaf Fudge has to say.

He looked up at the Headmaster, handed over the letter, and said, "Well, I guess that answers my question."

Dumbledore, after perusing the letter, said, "I shall schedule a special session of the Wizengamot. We shall void the sentence of life in Azkaban and expunge Sirius Black's criminal record."

Harry, downcast, mumbled, "Why couldn't it have been earlier? Why couldn't he have just—" He breathed, willing his voice to stay steady. "Why couldn't Fudge have just believed me?"

Harry, blinking rapidly, noticed Dumbledore's gentle smile. The Headmaster said, "Harry, I wish that I could have done more for you; it is entirely my fault for not pressing Cornelius on this matter as a quid pro quo for allowing the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts. It is a poor defence, Harry, but I had thought there would be plenty of time yet to exonerate Sirius."

In an obvious effort to change the subject, Dumbledore said, "I will also move swiftly to have Sirius Black's will located and read. While it is highly likely that you will inherit Headquarters, I would like to caution you that magical inheritances can sometimes run in unanticipated directions. I shall notify you as soon as possible regarding the Wizengamot outcome and the will reading."

Harry nodded. "Thanks."

"In yet another change of subject, Harry, Aurors Tonks and Shacklebolt are canvassing locations suitable to set up a training studio for you should you wish to undertake an intensive program prior to re-entering Hogwarts for your sixth year. I expect it to take three to four weeks, so you have some flexibility as to your timing. When would you like to do this?"

Harry considered. "I think I'd like to wait until after my birthday if that's all right. I want to get my Occlumency perfected as quickly as I can, and do those other things before I start training."

Dumbledore smiled and for the first time in a while, his eyes seemed to take on the familiar twinkle of times past. "Excellent. I shall begin making arrangements, Harry. Please inform me directly if your relatives should give you any more trouble. I am sorry for not heeding your complaints about the Dursleys before now."

Harry, sensing the end of the conversation, stood up. Dumbledore did the same and vanished his chair. He said, "I shall avoid your relatives, I think, and depart the premises from here." He looked up at the ceiling and said, "Fawkes?"

The phoenix flashed into existence and settled on Dumbledore's shoulder. Harry smiled and gently petted Fawkes's feathers for a bit before stepping back. He said, "Good-bye, Headmaster."

"Good-bye, Harry."

With that, Dumbledore flashed away.


Author Notes:

Thanks go to Keir for the beta reading. :) Thanks also to you all for putting up with my irregular update schedule. :)