Disclaimer – I solemnly swear that JKR owns everything Harry Potter. Whether or not I am up to no good with her characters is for you to decide.
-oOoOo-
A/N – I would like to acknowledge Centaurious as the originator of the brilliant prank that Sirius pulls in this chapter. It was all his idea that I simply fleshed out into a full scene for the story; if it hasn't come out quite as great as he imagined it, it is simply all my fault for not doing his ideas the justice that they deserve.
-oOoOo-
The Fourth School
Chapter 26
Albus Dumbledore sat serenely behind his desk. A lemon drop continuously moved from one side of his mouth to the other. It was the one indicator of what he'd rather be doing: pacing. But this wasn't the time. He needed to be seated right where he was, projecting the right image for when his visitor arrived.
Sitting back in his chair, he stroked one hand through his long beard, a small sigh escaping him at the fact that he could run his fingers through its magnificent length once more. A stray blast of fire from that blasted dragon had burnt off more than half of his beard before he'd been able to put the fire out, trapped as he was beneath the wreckage of the judges stands. In the end, he'd been forced to resort to a hair restoral draught to return his beard to its magnificent volume.
A glance at his pocket watch confirmed his suspicions: she was late. A fact which annoyed him to no end. Of late, people had been brushing him off and dictating terms to him; him, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwamp of the ICW. If it wasn't that he needed her help so badly, he's simply FLOO her and tell her that if she wasn't going to be on time for a meeting with him, then to not bother coming at all.
Unfortunately, he did need her. Or, at least, he needed the help that she could give. She had the potential to bolster his flagging reputation.
It was only by the very skin of a flobberworm that he was holding on to his positions. Already the Hogwarts Board of Governors had had the audacity to place him on probation – again! – threatening to sack him if anything else went wrong this year. And then there'd been that motion of no confidence in the Wizengamot. He'd only survived that through the block of ardent supports that he'd gathered over the years preventing the necessary seventy-five percent majority that was needed for the motion to succeed.
And when it came right down to it, Albus Dumbledore needed those positions. With them in hand, it was so much easier to … guide the wizarding world towards the ultimate goal – his vision of the Greater Good. Already he'd been hampered significantly by the Potter boy's refusal to return to his rightful place as a student of Hogwarts.
He had plans for the boy, plans which may just have to be altered, judging by the fact that the boy's scar had drastically reduced. If his guess was right, and his guesses usually were, then that killing curse that Harry'd taken from Lucius Malfoy, had killed the very thing that Dumbledore had been banking on. But without the boy nice and close and handy, he couldn't confirm anything, and without confirmation, it was hard to know the exact path that needed to be taken.
A sudden whoosh of the fireplace flaming to life brought him from his musings.
He straightened in his chair, making sure to steeple his fingers, place a small, knowledgeable smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. The right image needed to be projected, after all. With a little bit of luck and persuasion, this meeting could not only shore up his flagging reputation, but it could place the boy once more in a position where he could, at the very least, observe him, and at best, begin to guide him once more towards his destiny.
The flames turned green just long enough for his guest to step gracefully from the fireplace.
Minerva McGonagall had changed since she'd last worked at Hogwarts. Gone were the severe black robes that she'd worn in place of a more stylish robe cut from the McGonagall tartan, if he wasn't mistaken. Her dour expression had also faded. She seemed … happier, content.
"Albus," she greeted.
"Welcome, Minerva," Albus smiled. "Lemon drop?"
"Thank you, no," she replied, taking the seat across from him. "How are the students who were injured?"
"For the most part, healed," he replied. "Four still remain in Saint Mungo's, but they should be able to return to the castle by the end of the week. Madam Pomfrey has yet to release her final half a dozen charges, although I suspect that she will in the next day or two."
"What of Charity, Aurora and Filius?" Minerva asked, concern etched clearly on her face as she leaned forward in her chair.
"They're recovering," Albus sighed sadly. "Charity's been healed for the most part. The healers predict that she may need a cane to walk, but she'll be out of the hospital in another day or two. The splinter of wood that pierced Sinistra's eye wasn't as bad as the healers first feared. While she has sustained some scarring, her sight is as good as it ever was."
"And Filius?" Minerva prompted when he'd been silent too long.
"Filius' back was broken when the dragon swiped him with its paw. He sustained extensive injuries. Poppy tells me that they were lucky to even save his life. I'm sorry to say that he'll be in Saint Mungo's the longest; perhaps another month or so and when he leaves, it'll be in some kind of wheelchair. The specialists are optimistic that he'll live a long, fruitful life still," Albus relayed.
"A wheelchair," Minerva gasped. "But what will that mean for his teaching?"
"I'm afraid that Filius' days of teaching at Hogwarts are over. The stairs alone would be too prohibitive."
A thoughtful look crossed Minerva's face, but it was gone too quickly for him to get a feeling of what it might portend.
Most likely, it related to her visiting her old friend in hospital, he mused.
"Now that those unpleasantries are dispensed with," Albus said, "perhaps we could get down to why I asked you here; we both have schools to run, after all."
"Of course, Albus," Minerva nodded.
"I asked you here to ask about your plans for the Yule Ball," Albus twinkled at his counterpart.
"To be honest, Albus, Diricawl is … reluctant to attend any other TriWizard Tournament events," Minerva replied. "And I don't think that anyone can blame us, either. We've had one student's name come out of the Goblet of Fire at the Choosing Ceremony, a student who it was proved did not enter himself and after the debacle of the First Task, I think that everyone was glad that we didn't attend."
"I understand," Albus said in his best grandfatherly voice. "But surely you can see that those troubles are behind us now."
Minerva stared at him as though he was talking nonsense. "And just how did you come to that conclusion?"
"The fact that the perpetrator, young Barty Junior, was killed in the First Task," Albus replied with a sad shake of his head.
"Just because Barty Crouch was killed doesn't allay all of my fears," she confessed. "To be honest, I simply can't believe that Barty conceived of that plot all by himself."
"Yes, Amelia expressed similar doubts," Albus confessed. "Be that as it is, I firmly believe that all persons with nefarious plots have now been eliminated from within the castle. Alastor will be back teaching shortly and you know as well as I that there's no-one more vigilant than him."
"Alastor will certainly be an asset," Minerva allowed. "But that doesn't mean that I'm willing to bring my students to a place of potential danger. As much as they would dearly love to come to Hogwarts for the Ball and to spend time with their friends, I need to place their safety above their wishes."
Albus quickly supressed the gleam of triumph that threatened his visage at that pronouncement. Perhaps it wasn't inconceivable that the boy could be returned to the castle where he belonged.
Perhaps, he decided, an appeal to Minerva's fondness of Hogwarts was in order.
"I must confess, Minerva, that Hogwarts really needs you and your students to attend the Yule Ball," he stated. "Both Olympe and Alexei Draklov, poor Igor's Deputy Head, have expressed their concerns and are seriously considering pulling their students out of Hogwarts and Britain altogether. Hogwarts needs Diricawl's help. If you and your students agree to come to the Yule Ball, then I believe that Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will remain and that can only help International relations."
He sat back then, waiting as patiently as possible as Minerva digested his words. He could see the internal debate happening, he just had to hope that it would be enough.
"Before I'd even consider it, Albus, I'd want some assurances," Minerva finally stated.
"But, of course," Albus smiled magnanimously. "I had already planned to ask Amelia to provide a complement of aurors for the evening, as well as asking Alastor to handle security for the night."
"That's a start," Minerva allowed.
"Diricawl would, of course, be permitted to provide any extra security that you would like; just as I'm positive the French and the Bulgarians will also do," Dumbledore stated.
"What about a secure FLOO? It'd be far easier and safer, not to mention much more practical for us to FLOO to Hogwarts," Minerva suggested.
"Certainly, certainly, an easy thing to arrange," Albus waved off.
Minerva nodded thoughtfully. "And what about an age limit?"
"Fourth years and up can be invited to attend; younger years only if they are the partner of an older student," Albus agreed, conveniently forgetting to mention that those exact arrangements had already been decided upon.
"That would mean that, at most, only nine Diricawl students would be in attendance," Minerva cautioned.
"Even that small number from the smallest school in Europe would be a tremendous aid in repairing relations between the three largest schools," Albus stated.
"Then I will give a tentative answer of 'yes'," Minerva replied, although her raised hand halted the smile blossoming on his face. "That's only a tentative agreement. I will, of course, have to discuss this with the rest of my staff as well as the students in question. And rest assured, that if we do decide to come, we will be bringing a significant security force with us."
"I quite understand," Albus replied, even though he didn't. As far as he was concerned, it was the Headmaster's, or in this case Headmistress', job to make the decisions and for everyone else to simply fall into line.
A decisive nod from Minerva signalled that she was content to finish their conversation there.
"Thank you for your time today, Minerva," Albus said as they rose from their seats. "It is refreshing to have another Head of School to discuss things with and come to an agreement with."
Another nod was her only response.
"Until next time, Albus," she said before stepping into the fireplace and disappearing in a blaze of fire.
-oOoOo-
"Well?" Augusta Longbottom demanded the instant that Minerva stepped into the sitting room of Potter Haven.
"Better than expected," Minerva replied, striding forward to take a seat amongst the cluster of Diricawl staff members.
"Albus needs us badly," she related. "Both the French and the Bulgarians are threatening to pull their students out of the country. If we come to the Yule Ball, it'll be a signal that we believe that the castle is once again safe. And Albus is desperate to give that impression."
"What were his concessions?" Remus asked.
"We can FLOO in, bring as many staff as we want, not to mention hiring any additional security that we feel is needed," Minerva replied. "Both the French and the Bulgarians are also going to supply some security and the Ministry will provide a complement of aurors."
"That should keep the kids safe," Dan nodded.
"So, we're going to let them go?" Beth asked.
"Yes, I think so. Fourth years and up are invited; younger years if they have a date from amongst the older students," Minerva related, "although, for our purposes, I think that we'll neglect to mention the stipulation for the younger years and just keep it open for our older students."
"Good idea," Augusta agreed.
Minerva looked around at the faces surrounding her and gave a small nod of her head.
"While I have you all here, have you come to a decision about Harry's offer?"
"I think that we should take it," Sirius stated decisively.
"I agree," Remus said. "Harry's made his home here. I can't see him wanting to rebuild on Potter Island and I don't think that he would have made the offer if he wasn't sure."
There was a general murmur of agreement after that.
"Well, it looks as though that decision is unanimous," Minerva noted. "I'll let Harry, Mister Tentridge and the goblins know tomorrow and we can sign it then. As this will be a brand new school, and considering that we'll have the funding to set it up the way that we'd like, I'd like each of you to make a wish list, not only for what you'd like to see or have for your own subject areas, but also for facilities for our new school or subjects that you think we could add."
"What about the kids?" Emma asked.
"What about them?" Minerva asked.
"Well, it's going to be their school, too," she replied. "Couldn't we put out a suggestion box or something for them to add in what they'd like to see or have or learn about in our revamped school?"
"That's not a bad idea," Remus mused. "Their younger eyes and minds might come up with ideas that we'd never think of."
"I agree," Augusta stated simply.
Minerva nodded. "If you could prepare such a box, Emma, we can introduce it to them at dinner tomorrow night when we announce both the details for the Yule Ball and fact that we'll be moving to a new location for the start of the next school year."
-oOoOo-
Harry sat nervously in the plush high backed chair at the conference table that the goblins had supplied. Sure, he knew his part; contingencies had been discussed ad nauseam. The most probable responses had been planned for and their own responses decided upon. But still, this was the biggest … undertaking like this that he'd ever been involved in, and for it to involve him …
Sneaking a glance to his side, he observed his partner in crime. Sirius looked to be the picture of perfect calm. He was lounged back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other as they awaited the other party. But there were subtle hints that he wasn't quite as calm as he portrayed himself to be: the slight fiddling with the elaborate scroll sitting on the desk before him; an excited manic gleam in his eye; the way that the corner of his mouth occasionally twisted up in an aborted grin.
No, Sirius wasn't quite as cool, calm and collected as he wanted Harry to think he was. That distinction went to Slipshard. The goblin was seated at the far end of the table, a quiet observer to the proceedings due to start any minute now.
As if on cue, the door to the conference room opened to admit the three people that they'd been waiting for.
Albus Dumbledore was the first to enter, resplendent in his trademark garish robes: these a lurid purple with silver flutterbys flying about them. A quick glance around the room was enough to have him fixing in on Harry, a wide smile on his face.
Behind the ancient wizard bustled a pair of red headed witches. The first, Ginny Weasley, was being guided in by the protective hand of her mother, Molly, placed firmly in her back. Ginny had obviously been made to dress up for the day – her long red hair was brushed and styled in an elaborate knot on the side of her head and the dark green robes that she was wearing were obviously brand new.
"Ah, Harry, my boy, it's so wonderful to see you again," Dumbledore exclaimed. "Sirius, it's a pleasure."
"Professor," Harry nodded, very aware that he'd been coached to be as polite as possible, at least during these initial stages.
"Albus," Sirius beamed, "so good of you to come. Molly, always a delight. And I assume that this is little Ginevra?"
"Ginny," the shy girl corrected quietly.
"Ginny," Sirius repeated with a smile. "Please, take a seat."
They waited, then, while the three situated themselves across from Sirius and Harry – Ginny in the centre with her mother on her left and Dumbledore on her right, directly opposite Sirius.
"Before we begin, I'd like to apologise for how long it's taken for all of us to sit down together and to get this sorted out," Sirius stated.
"And exactly why have you asked us here?" Dumbledore asked curiously.
Sirius feigned a look of surprise. "Why, the betrothal contract, of course."
A gasp escaped Molly even as Ginny's eyes bulged and she whipped her head around to stare at her mother.
"A betrothal contract?" she questioned. "Between me and Harry?"
Harry squirmed in his seat at the gleam of triumph that erupted in the red-head's eyes.
"Yes, dear, now hush while we go over it," Molly replied, gently patting her daughter's hand.
"And what, may I ask, is your role, today, Sirius?" Dumbledore asked.
"I'm sort of a neutral party, so Harry here asked me to go through the particulars with you," Sirius waved off. "After all, while Harry may be emancipated, he's still young and doesn't know the rituals and formulas that we older folk know."
"Slipshard here is just an observer," Harry added. "Although, if there's anything that we need from the goblins, he'll be able to help us out."
"Certainly, certainly," Dumbledore beamed.
Harry could see the old wizard's eyes twinkling away. Obviously, the old man expected that today was going to be a good day, he obviously thought that they hadn't realised that the contract was invalid due to the signing date and was eager to see Harry and Ginny betrothed properly before they did realise it.
"Now, Harry here hasn't actually seen the contract," Sirius explained. "Slipshard gave it to Harry when he was emancipated and, while we should have dealt with it then, things have just been a bit hectic. I'm sure you can understand."
"Of course, my boy, quite understandable. And, as they say, better late than never," Dumbledore smiled.
"Well, then, shall we begin?" Sirius asked and, without waiting for an answer, he slipped a finger under the golden seal and cracked open the scroll.
"Okay, it's probably best if I simply read it and if there's anything that needs to be explained to either Harry or Ginny, then we can do it for them," he stated.
"Betrothal contract between Harry James Potter, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, Head of the Ancient House of Peverell, and the Head of Clan Lomas."
"I'm sorry, did you say Potter, Peverell and Lomas?" Molly queried, an excited tone to her voice.
"I don't remember all three of those being on the contract," Dumbledore stated.
"Well, no, they probably weren't," Sirius agreed. "Harry here didn't even know about the Peverell and Lomas families until he was emancipated. My guess would be that once the contract was signed, the Potter magics activated, thus updating Harry's titles. That, of course, would have activated the Peverell and Lomas magics as well."
"What do you mean 'magics'?" Molly asked suspiciously.
Sirius stared at her across the table. "You did know that any contract that is signed by or on behalf of the ancient families would have its own magic to ensure that all the clauses and prohibitions that are normally built into such things for that family is activated, didn't you?"
Harry had to look down at the tabletop to hide the smirk that threatened to erupt on his face. The worried look that Molly and Dumbledore had just shared had been priceless.
"You didn't know that?" Sirius asked. "Well, that explains it then."
"I'm sorry, explains what exactly?" Dumbledore asked.
"Why the two of you signed this. There'd be no way that I'd ever sign a Potter contract. The family's simply too ancient to predict exactly how it's going to react. Even the Black family magic is only enough to hold it in check. At least, I think so."
"Can we keep going?" Harry asked, "I'd like to find out about my obligations with Ginny."
"Sure thing Pup," Sirius replied. "Now, where were we?
"And Ginevra Molly Weasley, daughter of the Ancient House of Weasley. This contract stipulates that, upon both participants, Harry James Potter and Ginevra Molly Weasley, becoming of age, the two shall marry within a period of three months.
"To ensure the continuation of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, an heir clause is included. Ginevra Molly Weasley is required to bear Harry James Potter an heir within two years of marriage and an additional two heirs within the following seven years.
"Upon the signing of this contract, Harry James Potter is required to provide House Weasley nine pigs, all under one year of age. In return, upon the signing of this contract, House Weasley is required to provide Clan Lomas three horses, all between one and two years of age, one of which must be male."
"What?" Molly spluttered. "Pigs? Horses?"
"Well, that is a new one on me," Sirius agreed. "Looks like the Clan Lomas magics. Considering that they were only a young family, I wouldn't think that there'd be anything else in there from them. But pigs?"
Harry regarded the way his godfather was shaking his head at the absurdity of the idea.
"If it helps," he interjected, "from the research that I've done, Clan Lomas was apparently big into pig farming. They supplied pig products to a large percentage of the magical families of Wales, even after the family became squibs."
Dumbledore's blinking blue eyes indicated that he'd bought the story.
"The contract stipulates that these items should have been given at the time the contract was signed," Slipshard stated from the end of the table. "Am I correct in assuming that this has not occurred?"
"Not as far as I'm aware of," Harry replied. "Can you take care of it for me?" At the goblin's inclined head, he continued. "Then can you have someone buy, what was it? Nine? Nine piglets for me and have them delivered to the Weasley property for me?"
"It shall be done within the hour," Slipshard promised.
Harry watched as the goblin stared pointedly at Molly. The way her mouth was opening and closing without a sound coming out of it nearly had him bursting out laughing.
"If you'd allow me, Molly?" Dumbledore interjected. "Could you have the sum for three horses withdrawn from my personal vault and have three horses bought and delivered to …?"
"Potter Haven," Harry supplied.
"Potter Haven?" Dumbledore repeated.
"It shall be done within the hour," Slipshard stated before calling a second goblin into the room, only to have him scurry back out again intent on ensuring that the transaction took place.
"Well, hopefully that's the surprises out of the way," Sirius commented. "Let's continue, shall we?
"The bride price for Ginevra Molly Weasley, payable to the Ancient House of Weasley upon the marriage of Harry James Potter to Ginevra Molly Weasley is as follows: the sum of five million galleons and half of the properties and business holdings owned by the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter."
Harry's gut churned at the obvious greed evident in both adults across the table from him.
"This bride price is to be held in trust by the Ancient House of Weasley until the heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter comes of age. At that time, the bride price is to be passed to the heir in full."
"What?" Molly screeched, but Sirius failed to stop, instead reading the rest of the clause.
"In addition, the Ancient House of Weasley will be required to gift ten percent of the amount of the bride price to the heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter when they come of age."
"Ten percent," Molly blanched.
"Five hundred thousand galleons," Dumbledore whispered.
"Plus ten percent of the price of the properties and businesses that I'm required to give away," Harry added.
"But we don't have that kind of money!" a panicked Molly stated, looking around wildly.
Sirius looked at her sympathetically. "And that's why I won't tangle with Potter contracts."
"Surely these additional clauses can be struck out," Dumbledore stated with an air that he expected exactly that to happen.
"The contract is iron-clad," Slipshard stated simply.
"Well, at least you'll have a couple of decades to get the money together," Sirius stated. "Best continue, we've only got the room booked for another hour."
"Upon the signing of this betrothal contract between Harry James Potter and Ginevra Molly Weasley, the Ancient House of Weasley voids their rights to their daughter Ginevra Molly Weasley, transferring her care and guardianship unto the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter.
"Additionally, as the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter do take unto themselves Ginevra Molly Weasley, it behoves the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter to provide all measures to ensure that the future of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter is protected.
"As the Ancient and Noble House of Potter is currently under threat of extinction, this contract decrees that, upon the signing of this contract, that Ginevra Molly Weasley be placed into the care of the Ancient House of Ferguson, an ally of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter for twelve centuries.
"The Ancient House of Ferguson will further ensure Ginevra Molly Weasley's safety by placing her in a place far from the magical world, in this instance, the Saint Mary Teresa Nunnery outside of Dunedin, New Zealand where Ginevra Molly Weasley will remain until the marriage between Harry James Potter and Ginevra Molly Weasley."
"What? You're not sending my baby away!" Molly shrieked.
"A nunnery? In New Zealand?" Ginny muttered, wide-eyed even as she looked to be about to hyperventilate.
"Well, it does make sense, I guess," Harry stated reluctantly. "Voldemort is still out there and after me and we all know that if he finds out about Ginny, then nothing will stop either him or his minions from either hurting her, kidnapping her or killing her."
"Harry's right," Sirius agreed. "And after what happened at the World Cup and then at the First Task of the TriWiz, it makes sense."
"No one's taking my baby away!" Molly declared.
"The contract is iron-clad," Slipshard repeated.
"It's alright, Molly," Dumbledore said soothingly, reaching across the near-comatose girl to pat the woman on the arm. "It's only for a couple of years, then Ginevra will be home again. And I'm sure it'll be sooner. Once Tom has been taken care of, Ginevra can be brought home early."
"Um, I wouldn't go getting too far ahead," Sirius stated, his eyes on the contract in his hands.
"If the danger to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Weasley persists at the time of the marriage between Harry James Potter and Ginevra Molly Weasley, then Ginevra Molly Weasley is only to be brought back to Great Britain for the marriage and until such time as an heir is conceived. At that time, for the safety of both mother and heir, Ginevra Molly Weasley will be returned to her prior place of safety."
"That's good," Harry declared. "I wouldn't want Ginny or our baby being in danger." He turned then to Sirius. "Do you think fertility potions would help?"
"Pup, between fertility potions and Ginny being the daughter of Molly, I'd bet that you'd have her pregnant by the end of the wedding night!"
"Hang on," Ginny interrupted, coming out of her stupor, "did that thing say something about it being away from the magical world?"
"Yes, it did," Sirius replied after rereading the contract.
"No magic?" she shuddered. "For years?"
"That's what it amounts to," Sirius agreed.
"But at least you'll be kept safe," Harry stated, reaching across to pat her on her hand.
"The contract stated that this should have happened from the time of the signing of the contract," Slipshard interrupted.
"You're right," a wide-eyed Harry stated. "Can you book some plane tickets for as soon as possible, please?"
"Certainly, Harry," Slipshard replied, signally for another goblin to come to him.
"Don't worry, Molly. I've had dealings with House Ferguson," Sirius told her. "I'll make sure that she gets there safely."
"You're not taking my daughter," Molly declared, one arm wrapping around said girl.
"According to the contract that you signed, yes I am," Sirius shot back. "Assuming that the goblins can arrange a flight quickly enough, we'll go straight from here."
"Surely you'll allow the girl to say goodbye to the rest of her family," Dumbledore stated chidingly.
"We're already on the clock here," Sirius replied. "And it's not like she's going to need many possessions living in a nunnery."
Dismissing Molly and Dumbledore's protests, Sirius continued to read the contract.
"As this betrothal contract has been signed by a third party on behalf of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, it is understood that the third party, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore of the Ancient House of Dumbledore, declares himself to be wholly subjugated by the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter for the life of the contract, that is, until the heir has reached his majority."
"I certainly do not!" Dumbledore protested vehemently, a fact that Sirius ignored in favour of continuing to read.
"For the life of this contract, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore agrees to not buy or sell any property, either for personal gain or on behalf of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter without the express permission of the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. Further, any seats and votes that are held by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore on the Wizengamot of Great Britain shall become subject to the will of the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter: their votes and seats shall become one, under the direction of the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter."
Dumbledore baulked at that particular clause and turned a shade of white to rival his beard.
"Ah, it seems that the remainder of this contract basically outlines the penalties that shall be applied to any party that breaks any of the clauses previously outlined," Sirius declared. "Do we particularly need to read those?"
"I think that we had better," a still shocked Dumbledore stated.
"Very well," Sirius replied. "Let's see.
"The penalty for any of the affected parties within this contract, that is, Harry James Potter, Ginevra Molly Weasley, Molly Muriel Weasley and Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore breaching any of these clauses shall be as follows: the total subjugation of the party's House, including all properties, businesses, vaults and Wizengamot seats and votes. If the breach is brought about by Harry James Potter, then the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter will dissolve to become a part of the Ancient House of Weasley. Conversely, if any of the remaining parties breach this contract, then the entirety of their House will dissolve and become a part of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter."
A pair of pale-faced and shaky adults stared back at Sirius, obviously attempting to wrap their minds around what they were now locked in to. Not even the appearance of a goblin whispering into Slipshard's ear was enough to break them out of their stupor.
"Your plane tickets," Slipshard said, handing a document wallet to Sirius. "Your flight leaves in ninety minutes. Also, all animals have been delivered as requested."
"Thank you, Slipshard," Sirius replied. "Well, say goodbye to your mother, Ginny, it's time to go."
Molly stood so fast, her chair clattered backwards, coming to rest a good three metres behind her. With one hand, she pulled her daughter up and thrust her behind her back, while with the other, she pulled her wand and trained it on the Marauder.
"You're not taking my daughter!" she snarled.
"I'm sorry, Molly, but you signed the contract," Sirius replied, sounding anything but sorry. "Surely you knew that there were going to be repercussions."
"I don't care! You're not taking Ginny and shipping her off halfway around the world and stuffing her in a muggle convent of all things," she declared.
"Does this mean that I get some pigs?" Harry asked innocently.
When three pairs of confused eyes settled on him from across the table, he clarified his statement.
"Well, you're breaking the contract, aren't you? That means that everything that once belonged to the Weasleys now belongs to me. Vaults, house and pigs."
The hand that was clutching her wand abruptly snapped to her chest as Molly realised the danger she was placing her entire family in.
"No, please, surely there has to be something that we can do!" Molly pleaded. "I didn't want this! Anything but this!"
"That's right," Sirius spat, now also on his feet. "You didn't want this, did you? It was one thing to play God with not only your own daughter but also with a boy that you barely knew. You – both of you – had your own agenda, didn't you? All you saw was a boy, ignorant of this world but with millions of galleons to his name that you wanted. And if your daughter got the boy that she's been crushing on since long before she'd ever met him, well, that was just a bonus wasn't it?
"And now the tables have been turned on you. Now it's you who are threatened with losing everything that you own; including your very daughter. And in the face of that, you finally protest. Well, this is what you have reaped, madam, and this is what you have sown. I really hope that you're happy with yourself."
Sirius' tirade had left tears streaming down Molly Weasley's face, tears that matched those of her daughter from where she still hid behind her mother's skirt.
"And what of you, old man? The mastermind intent on manipulating two families for your own end. You had no care for the lives that you're playing with. You disgust me, Dumbledore!"
"Ginny," Harry said gently. "How about we deal with this between the two of us? After all, it was us that they were playing with."
From behind her mother, Ginny hesitantly shuffled into view.
"What … what do you … mean, Harry?" she hiccupped.
Standing up, Harry snatched up the contract and held it out across the desk. At his gesture, she grasped the other end and then, with one pull, the two of them tore it in twain.
Shocked gasps erupted from the other side of the table.
"What have you done?" Molly gasped.
"Absolutely nothing," Harry told her, "apart from tearing up a spare bit of parchment."
"What do you mean, Harry?" Dumbledore asked from where he still sat, his face still as white as ever.
"This," he replied, gesturing around the room, "this was all a fake. That contract had about as much validity in it as toilet paper. You, Dumbledore, were not my guardian when you signed it. That meant that you had no legal standing to be signing contracts on my behalf."
"I wasn't your guardian," Dumbledore repeated as the realisation that this was some elaborate prank dawned on his face.
"No, you weren't," Sirius spat. "Minerva and I became Harry's guardians a week before you signed that. Perhaps now you'll understand the consequences of playing with other people's lives."
With a nod at each other, Harry and Sirius turned to Slipshard and bowed.
"Thank you for your services today, my friend," Harry smiled.
"It was my pleasure, Mister Potter," Slipshard replied.
And then, the two split, each rounding the table at a different end before walking out of the room, leaving a pair of shell-shocked adults and one confused teen behind them.
As the door closed behind them, Sirius grinned down at his godson.
"Mischief managed," he said.