JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, the star of the show. She is the creator of the world I write in.

FASA owns Earthdawn, who I borrow many ideas from.

Sirius Black was awaiting a trial in Britain, but he had been cleared by an ICW hearing and now Britain was taking heat internationally for their treatment of him. Sirius Black had activated magical clauses in several contracts which Arcturus had created to impact the funds of the Deatheater families, impacting their ability to support Voldemort. Wars weren't cheap, and now there's a lot less money.

Fudge was trying to weasel out of any personal lawsuits and was using the trial as a leverage point while also publicly siding with Sirius on his mistreatment. Amelia Bones had made public her interrogation of Peter Pettigrew and it was now clear that all Marked Deatheaters willingly took the Mark and were guilty as sin. Sadly, they cannot be re-tried in court, but they had been found guilty in public opinion. Fortunately for Fudge, it was the previous administration that had cleared them. Fudge had been shrewd enough to distance himself from the families he used to consort with.

Harry finally recovered the 'Horcrux object' containing his father's incarnation and was able to absorb James' incarnation into himself. In the process, he recovered and bonded with the Everliving Flower that was somehow connected to Oakheart. These key points allowed his magic to slowly re-integrate itself.

Harry started therapy and was beginning to realise that it was not so bad. The Dursleys were also getting a bit of therapy as well. Harry was able to meet with both Ginny and Hermione before they caught the Hogwarts Express and he lent Ginny his Firebolt. Harry had managed to reach his Dreamscape again, but his parent's incarnations told him that he couldn't visit too often as his core was under 'repair'. In six to eight months, he should be healed enough to use magic, but full healing would take longer. Monthly visits would work, but more frequent visits would slow his healing. Home schooling had begun, and Harry had no concerns about getting his OWLs. He had switched his focus to learning skills that would keep him alive as he felt confident, he could ace his OWLs with ease.

Last Chapter Recap:

Sirius' trial had been pushed back three times and was now set for October 31st. The presiding judge was a Deatheater sympathiser and there was concern that he would find Sirius mentally unfit to be Harry's guardian and place Harry with the Malfoy family, where he would be ransomed and tortured. The Deatheater families were desperate for funds as preparing for a war was expensive and Sirius had impacted on their finances tremendously.

Harry made a trip to Hogsmeade where he gave an interview with three news publications and a freelance reporter. He used the interview to give his story of the graveyard and Voldemort's return. He also discussed the upcoming trial. He flat out accused Fudge of being a fool and a weakling. He pointed out the many marked Deatheaters Fudge associated with and raised questions about corruption within the ministry. He lent support to Hermione as she began a Defence Association study group.

One week from Sirius' trial, the presiding judge was found dead.

Special thanks to this story's Beta reader, 'Just William' for your help and excellent feedback.

This is where we pick up.

Chapter 24: Bad Rubbish

—Dance of Death—

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging, Surrey

October 21, 1995

Saturday Mid-Morning

Harry, Tonks, Bill, and Remus were in the main sitting room at The Dursley home. Vernon and Petunia Dursley were looking concerned as Remus told Harry that Judge Octavius Rowle had been found dead. Harry considered that Octavius Rowle was a Deatheater sympathiser and there had been concerns in the order that he would place Harry with the Malfoy family after the trial while Sirius was undergoing mental evaluation for parental competency. The whole order knew that would be disastrous if it came to pass.

Bill hesitantly said, "So, this brings us to another problem..."

Harry immediately jumped in with, "Well, obviously we have a problem! Uncle Vernon, I think we're out of champagne."

Vernon suddenly guffawed and said, "Damn right, Harry! Good riddance I say! I'm glad I'm not the only one to see the upside to this!"

Harry laughed and immediately high-fived his uncle. No one else reacted. For so many years he had despised his loud and somewhat belligerent uncle. Amazing how different he felt now. Uncle Vernon was no longer his obnoxious, loud, and belligerent uncle. Now he was his favourite obnoxious, loud, and belligerent uncle! Petunia excused herself and went upstairs, while Uncle Vernon ventured into the kitchen.

Tonks quietly added, "Harry, Octavius Rowle was a prominent member of our society. His death may attract undue attention if it is ruled a murder. It could affect Sirius."

At Sirius' name, Harry lost his glee. "Shite. Well, no way was Sirius involved. He was planning to bring me to Switzerland if the trial went poorly. He had a whole backup plan designed. Never was the death of the Deatheater sympathiser considered."

Bill gave a short nod, "So, assuming his death is ruled as 'natural causes', the trial will be overseen by Juliette Prewitt. Not only would she be fair but given that she was a Gryffindor Seeker in the 70's and a cousin to Fabian and Gideon, she really was the best possible person to be presiding over Sirius' trial. And don't worry about the Malfoy family claiming you, she was very outspoken in her displeasure regarding the use of the 'Imperious defence' after the last war."

Tonks thought for a moment, "Wait, what happened to Johnathon Selwyn? Wasn't he next in line to preside over the October trials and hearings?"

Bill raised his eyebrows, "Yes, but he had a broom accident a few weeks ago. If the order had been reversed, it would seem… suspicious." Harry knew Bill well enough to tell two things. First, Bill was suspicious of the circumstances. It did seem like an odd set of coincidences. Secondly, Bill wasn't the least bit upset that both men were dead. He just wanted to make sure the fallout was contained. Tonks was a lot harder to read, but she didn't seem all that broken up.

Remus, on the other hand, seemed to be filled with doom and gloom. That was his normal outlook, but bad news of any sort always pushed him towards a depressed state. Like the whole world was falling apart. He also seemed saddened that Harry was so cheerful about the death of another.

Harry decided to nip that in the bud. "So, one Deatheater sympathiser and one potential sympathiser are dead and unable to take away my freedom." Harry paused for the dramatic effect and briefly looked at the ceiling, "Nope. Not feeling any pain or sadness here. You ask me, the world is a better place for it."

At that, there was a loud pop, followed by three wands quickly being drawn. Then Uncle Vernon re-entered the room with five champagne glasses. He was grinning from ear to ear. The wands were hastily sheathed.

Bill shrugged and took a glass. Remus waved it off, resulting in Vernon pouring his glass of champagne into Vernon's own glass. Tonks hesitated, then took the glass saying, "Well, technically I'm not on duty. It is Saturday…"

Harry took a glass enthusiastically.

Uncle Vernon held up his glass and said, "Good riddance to Bad Rubbish!"

—Dance of Death—

Malfoy Manor

October 22, 1995

Sunday Evening

Lucius sat in his library, sipping fire whiskey. His hand was shaking so bad that he spilt about a third of the liquid. How long had he been held under the Cruciatus curse? Fifteen seconds? Thirty? It might as well have been an hour. He had forgotten how much it hurt. And all the other Deatheaters just stood there watching. Lucius couldn't help but feel betrayed by their unwillingness to speak on his behalf. He had personally funded the defence funds for most of the Bastards in the last war when the Dark Lord fell. How do they thank him? Silence. They were all too scared to say anything. They all knew they could be next.

How on earth could the Dark Lord punish him for another man's death? Octavius Rowle had apparently had a simple heart attack in his sleep. And Selwyn's death had been a fluke some weeks ago. Why had he tried to perform a full speed Wronski Feint at his age… what was he thinking? Now the trial would be presided over by a Prewett! And not just any Prewett, but Juliette Elisabeth Prewett… the same woman had openly called all the marked Deatheaters guilty despite the Imperious defence. That woman had an axe to grind.

He had one week to remove the woman from the board. But how to do that without it looking suspicious? That would likely not be possible. And if – no, when he succeeded, the trial would be pushed back a month and neither November nor December were months with sympathetic judges on rotation. Well, that was Parkinson's job to figure out, Lucius had only been tasked to remove the Prewett witch from the trial. She didn't have children or a spouse he could use against her. She certainly didn't seem like the type to frighten easily. He'd have to do this the old-fashioned way. Three assassins hired through an intermediary. Hopefully, someone competent could be found at short notice.

Switching thoughts, Lucius considered his finances. Reparations paid to the Black family had taken most of his liquid assets and the Dark Lord wasn't letting him rebuild his galleons in a steady manner. Lucius was having to sell important assets just to have the galleons to fund the future war effort. The assets he was selling were needed to ensure generational wealth… The other traditionalist families were in the same boat as well. Most of the assets were being purchased by holding companies that were likely owned by the Black Family. And at a steep discount due to the immediate needs of the Dark Lord. There simply wasn't time to negotiate and the Dark Lord would punish them all severely if he learned they had passed on a sale.

Lucius couldn't help but admire the brilliance of the plan. First, Sirius demands magical reparations that resulted in the traditionalist families losing their liquidity. Then, those same funds were being used to purchase assets the traditionalist families were having to sell to fund the coming war. Assets purchased at a considerable discount. Still looming were the non-magically binding lawsuits… but those could be put off. If the looming lawsuits ruled against the traditionalist families, it meant Sirius would take back the funds he had used to buy up the assets.

Sirius wasn't this smart. He certainly wasn't patient or strategic in financial matters. It had to be the Black Family lawyers directing and advising him. Everyone knew how ruthless they were. How dangerous and cunning they could be. Abraxas Malfoy had always said, be careful in dealing with the Black Family. They had legendary lawyers. Something about an Ancient Creature who had an interest or alliance with the Black family. A Vampire maybe? What was its name? Denarian? No… Dannanite… Denairastas… something**. Well, Lucius knew his own lawyers were some of the best in the business. The non-magical lawsuits were potentially avoidable, even if they were all guilty. But it was a distraction. This was all so much easier when Dumbledore was trying to fight the war the old way.

It all came down to funds. In the last war, the traditionalists had the funds. Now, the Black family appeared to be holding a lot of the cards. Too many. Harry Potter was the short-term fix. Sirius would give away all his wealth to save the boy. And if they couldn't get Potter, it would all fall back on ensuring Draco inherited the Black family wealth. Either way, the Black family had the funds and the traditionalist families need to get their funds back before they were all bankrupt.

—Dance of Death—

Narcissa Malfoy set out for the library with a recently brewed potion trifecta. When the Dark Lord took over their manor, she began brewing the usual potions. Calming draught, healing draught, and a pain reducing potion especially formulated to heal damage to the nervous system. Lucius had needed it frequently in the last war, and she knew he would need it now. Severus had provided the best recipes, and now she was doing her part. Still, why did the Dark Lord have to take up residence in their manor?

She hated seeing her once proud husband in this state. Everyone knew the Dark Lord held his victim under the Cruciatus until they 'embarrassed' themselves. The human body could only take so much pain before it lost control. Vomiting and… worse. The Dark Lord seemed to take pride in robbing purebloods of their dignity. It was like he was getting even for some past wrongs done to him*. How she had hated watching her once proud sister degrade to the broken figure she was now.

Walking quietly through her home, Narcissa recalled her last visitation of Bella in Azkaban. It had been awful. Bella just kept pointing at her Dark Mark saying, "He's back! He's back!" All the while, drooling and twitching about under her mop of lice infested hair. The once proud and beautiful woman Narcissa had grown up with was long gone. She had been replaced by a haggard sycophantic lunatic whose only desire was to please another. Damn you, Lestrange! You're the one who dragged her into your politics. Thankfully, Lucius had protected her. Hopefully, he could protect Draco as well.

She had told Lucius in no uncertain terms that Draco was not to be marked before he graduated and was of age to decide on his own. She had seen the brief flash of fear in her poor husband's eye, but he had emphatically agreed. She knew how he despised his own father for offering him up. Abraxas was an uncaring, opportunistic Bastard and Lucius suffered for it. The pain it had caused drove a wedge between father and son that lasted until Abraxas' death. But would Lucius even be given a chance? Would he be able to protect Draco?

And what if he couldn't? The Dark Lord had never been overly 'stable', but now he seemed even worse. His time among the un-living had not helped his sanity. Lucius had tried and failed to reason with their guest numerous times. The damages to their manor was testament to those 'discussions'. She had to keep Draco away for the Holidays, but how? And what to do about the summer? If Sirius did manage to return, could she seek him out for asylum? And if so, could she abandon Lucius to protect Draco? She had no doubts about what the Dark Lord would do to Lucius if she left. It wouldn't be pretty.

What would become of the Potter boy? If Lucius managed to get custody, his fate would be horrible. He would be tortured, his family holdings would be liquidated, he would be ransomed back to his godfather, and then likely murdered in the exchange. She couldn't help but feel pity for the boy. Orphaned at a young age, taken in by the blood traitorous Weasley family. Forced to consort with Mudbloods. Never taught his place in the world… Even as a half blood, he had a place. And he was now the Heir of Black. The future head of her true family. Could she turn away and leave Harry Potter to his fate? Yes, yes, she could. For Draco, she could do anything. Yes, she would feel pity, but she would turn away. As Narcissa neared the library, she straightened her back and her resolve. Head held high with an aristocratic bearing, she proceeded down the hall. Unfortunately, with her head held high, she wasn't looking at the floor and she stepped in a foul spot on the carpet. With a look of revulsion, she realized it was from the Snake.

Narcissa subtly looked about in fear to make sure the monster Snake wasn't near. All the Peacocks and Hounds on the estate had been feasted on by Nagini. Even Draco's beloved pet had not been spared. Her son had raised Roxy from puppy to mature bitch. He would be crushed when he learned of her fate. But it wasn't just the pets the Snake fed upon. A few prisoners and even a few of the elves had become a meal for Nagini. To make matters worse, the creature relieved itself wherever it pleased. Frequently, as she had just learned, in the middle of a room or hallway. The smell was horrific, and the entire manor now reeked.

Entering the library, she saw her husband slouched in a chair. His hands were shaking, and he was quivering as he drank a glass of Ogden's finest. His trousers had been changed, as had his shirt. She wondered for the thousandth time why the Dark Lord had elected to stay at their Manor. Why he took so much delight in abusing her husband. His only real failing was in the loss of some silly diary.

"Lucius, I brought you the usual potions." She watched as her beloved husband reached out with shaky hands and took each vial. One after another in the prescribed order to maximise the effectiveness. When he was finished, he gave her a sad smile.

"Thank you, my dear." After a moment, the potions began to take effect. "Octavius managed to pass in his sleep. Now the chances of getting the Potter boy are slim."

Narcissa considered his words. There had to be more. "What are the contingency plans, beloved?"

Lucius then surprised her by knocking the empty vials across the room. For a moment, she thought he would strike her… but he regained control. That damn mark… It continually affected him.

"The contingency plan died on a broom trying to perform a Wronski Feint at fifty-seven years of age." He then scoffed and shook his head. "Now the trial will be officiated by a Prewett. No, not just a Prewett, Juliette Prewett!" Lucius put his head in his left hand, rubbing his temple.

Narcissa considered saying nothing, but she couldn't just abandon him to his despair. "Perhaps… she can be reasoned with. Or… dealt with in… some other fashion…" She really didn't want to say it out loud. It was beneath her.

Lucius chuckled. "Yes. She will be dealt with. I have one week to do so. And if I fail, our son will be marked. After he is forced to 'chastise' me."

Narcissa recoiled in horror. Draco would be forced to take the mark. He would be forced to use the Cruciatus on his own father. How had they ever fallen into that mad man's service? This… can't be. She'd kill the Prewett woman herself…

Seeing his wife recoil, Lucius put a calming hand on her shoulder. The shaking was still there, but the potions had helped.

With a soothing voice, Lucius calmed his wife. "Shhhhhhh. No, my dearest. Draco will be protected. I know just who to contact. Even should the unthinkable occur, he would have to be unmarked to claim the Black Lordship. So, we are safe. For now. Shhhhhhh." He pulled his beautiful wife into his arms. How he wished for simpler times. When he had control. When he had power and prestige.

Narcissa considered her husband's words and knew what they really meant. First, Draco would rise to Lordship of the House of Black, then he would get marked. Lucius was fooling himself if he thought otherwise. The Black Family magic would reject anyone in the service of another, but once he had risen, he would be forced to take the mark. Arcturus had declined the Mark and enraged the Dark Lord. Knowing how petty the Dark Lord was, he would destroy the House of Black to get even. How did Lucius not see this?

What on earth could she do?

—Dance of Death—

Ministry of Magic

October 23, 1995

Monday Morning

Amelia Bones settled back and sipped her black coffee while her esteemed guest was examining the remains of a Nimbus 2001. She once more considered Albus Dumbledore's interest in a simple broom accident. Johnathon Selwyn had been an affable sort of fellow. Yes, he was a traditionalist, but he never showed any outright hostility to the 'progressive' families. He pretty much kept to himself and followed the letter of the law when he presided over a case. His family may have been filled with Deatheaters, but he certainly wasn't one. Of course, he never really denounced them either.

Two weeks ago, Johnathon foolishly overestimated his skill and had fatally mistimed a full speed Wronski Feint. The man had reputedly been an amazing seeker in his youth. He had taken the Ravenclaw House to a Quidditch cup victory four times in his Hogwarts days. Unfortunately, Selwyn was no longer a young man and he now spent more time talking about brooms than riding them.

For the 'umpteenth' time, Amelia had to wonder what he had been thinking. She knew he had recently purchased a Nimbus 2001 and had bragged to his peers about how eager he was to put it through its paces. But a Wronski Feint? No matter how good Johnathon may have once been, the Wronski Feint was one of the most difficult manoeuvres to execute and was quite dangerous. Many professional seekers don't even attempt it.

Albus was insistent on examining the broom that Johnathon Selwyn had been on when he had his fatal accident. It was broken in three places and without the straw patch at the end, you'd never know it had once been a broom. Letting him examine the broom was against policy, but she owed him for the whole Harry Potter mess last year. She couldn't even blame Albus really, he had strongly suggested just talking to the boy. Well, at least the Potter heir was no longer angry. No longer as angry. He seemed to be adjusting quite well to his… situation.

Bringing her attention back to the scene in front of her, she looked on with amazement. Amelia always loved watching proficient Wizards and Witches as they performed their art. And few were even remotely as proficient as Albus Dumbledore. The man was methodically taking apart the enchantments on the broom. Methodically peeling back one layer after another. Over and over he peeled back the enchantments. He scrutinised each of the mystic equations line by line. At a few points, he seemed to take a bit more interest in the enchantments, carefully reading the runic codes he had displayed. Occasionally, he went back and reviewed layers he had already reviewed. The man was brilliant. A true magical prodigy if ever there was one.

All in all, he had been working tirelessly for perhaps two hours. She stayed the entire time. Just to make sure he didn't try anything funny. How a man over a hundred years old had so much energy, she would never know. Finally, he stepped away and settled the broom back into the case it had been stored in. He carefully levitated it back into the evidence locker and approached Amelia.

His eyes seemed focused, but not on her. "Well, that was… enlightening. May we adjourn to your office, Madame Bones?"

Amelia resisted the urge to ask what he had discovered. She simply nodded and led him back to her office where they settled in for a discussion. Albus waved his wand and verified they had complete privacy. He even froze two of the paintings to ensure it was just the two of them. Amelia was slightly nervous now, what was he up to? Albus clearly wanted to share, but did he want more than a sharing of information?

"Alright, Albus. What did you learn?"

Albus smiled at the woman. Straight and to the point. She was a Bones through and through. "That was no accident. Deeply embedded in the enchantments of the broom were two very mild enchantments. Both of which have since dissipated, but I knew what to look for. You see, Amelia, this was an old trick." He sat smiling at her.

"Albus, please, just get to the point." Amelia always got annoyed when he played 'Professor', like he was waiting for her to start guessing and forming a hypothesis on her own.

Looking somewhat disappointed, "The enchantments were triggered by speed and altitude. Once a sufficiently high altitude was achieved, a mild Confidence charm was triggered. Like a cheering charm, but far more subtle. Then, once the speed exceeded a certain level, likely quite high, a mild vision enchantment was queued up, affecting depth perception. Once queued up, it was triggered when the altitude was less than, perhaps, fifty feet. Take or give a few yards." He then waited again, eyes twinkling away.

Amelia considered the Wronski Feint. You fly remarkably high, then drop into a full speed dive. At the last moment, you pull up. A confidence charm would lead him to think he had the skill to pull it off, then the depth perception would impair his ability to time the manoeuvre. They had checked for all manner of curses on the body, but not a Cheering charm or a Depth perception charm. And if they were mild enough, even finding those would be hard given the condition of the body.

Amelia softly said, "He was murdered." Albus had impressed the hell out of her. He really was a genius.

Albus quietly said, "Yes, Amelia. He was murdered." With a look of genuine sadness, the eye twinkling stopped.

"I'll get a team on it immediately. This changes everything…" Suddenly, she knew what it changed. Harry's trial would be delayed. She had been beside herself when she learned Sirius had been scheduled for a trial with Octavius Rowle. She had vowed to prevent Harry Potter from being placed with the Malfoys by any means necessary and with Octavius' death… Well, his death had been a relief. She hadn't even considered Johnathon Selwyn. But he would have been the next in line.

She realised she couldn't say anything. Her magic wouldn't let her take any action to endanger Harry Potter. The penalties in the alliance were in full force for her and her family for the same amount of time as the alliance had originally been in effect. Still, Johnathon Selwyn had been murdered.

"Albus, you don't think Sirius…"

Albus shook his head, "No, Amelia. He lacks the skill, the subtlety, and quite frankly the talent to pull off anything even remotely this complex. The broom was a special order, and someone had sabotaged the broom while it was being built. I have already checked, and the lead enchanter on this order suffered a most unfortunate accident. She is recovering nicely, but her memory of recent months has been quite impaired."

"Albus, why would anyone go after Johnathon Selwyn? He may have been a traditionalist, but he was no Deatheater." Amelia was trying to get her mind wrapped around these recent revelations. Albus had apparently been running his own investigation without DMLE consent or oversight. Clearly illegal.

Albus took a deep breath and shared his perspective, "My informants have been monitoring communications between certain families and both Octavius Rowle and Johnathon Selwyn. Octavius was an unmarked Deatheater and was eager to deliver young Mr. Potter to the Voldemort. Sirius' financial attacks have enraged many of the traditionalist families. Octavius included."

Amelia nodded; she knew to just listen to Albus as he wound through his tale.

"Johnathon Selwyn was also angered by Sirius' actions, but he saw it as an attack on pureblood traditions. His goal was to deliver Harry to a family that would educate him to be a traditionalist. Johnathon Selwyn was trying to help the future head of the Potter and Black families. His goals were not nefarious, but it would have ended catastrophically." At that, Albus shook his head in a scholarly manner.

Amelia felt the urge to slap the pompous scholar. He was so wrapped up in his own paradigm, he just couldn't stop being a Professor. Couldn't stop with the social theory. But at least he told his story. At least he was doing something. Taking action.

"So, who do you suspect?"

At that, Albus looked concerned. "Someone who wishes to protect Harry. And possibly the Black family. It was all so… subtle. I'd be surprised if Octavius Rowle hadn't been given Muggle medication that brought on his heart failure. Whoever did this was a master assassin with a long game in mind. It reminds me of how the Grindelwald war was fought. Alas, all those players are no longer with us. Still…" Albus recalled inconsistencies in the capture of key Acolytes. Gellert's brief escape in 1959…

Amelia waited a moment, then angrily proclaimed, "Albus! I need you to depart memory lane and give me something I can work with." Amelia wondered if Albus was doing this just to irritate her. Was he starting to lose his marbles?

Albus briefly looked less 'mild' and more… dangerous.

"Very well, Amelia. Many have used variants of this manner of assassination, but few have done it so well. This was the work of not only a master assassin, but a true artist of their craft. Laying down the foundations of a murder months or even years before the actual murder took place. So subtle and brilliant, with no loose strings to deal with. Lycoris Black perfected this type of assassination." Albus enjoyed seeing Amelia pale at the mention of that woman's name. Serves her right for rushing him. "Vivian Rosier could have pulled it off as well, but she would have had to use the Imperious curse on the enchanter, rather than impersonation. Fortunately, Lycoris is dead and Vivian hasn't been seen in decades. Augustus Rookwood could have done it, but he's safely inside Azkaban. And quite frankly, he lacked the patience. There have been others who likely pulled off similar assassinations in the past but were never caught. Had it not been for the Grindelwald war, I wouldn't have known what to look for. But let's focus on the present. The only other potential party would be the Black Family lawyers. They are not a group that should be crossed… still. Something is off. Whoever did this had to have gotten close to Johnathon. Close enough to know he was considering the purchase of a Nimbus 2001. Or perhaps, close enough to influence him to make the purchase..." Albus wondered if that group of Lawyers could pull something like this off. Did they have a Metamorphmagus in their retinue?

"Albus, I hesitate to even ask, how do you propose we proceed?" Amelia wanted to know. She wasn't committing to follow his direction, but he had given this far more consideration than she had.

"Do nothing." He waited for that to sink in. "I learned long ago, this enemy will use your own morals and compassion against you. Why put Harry in danger? We both know what would happen if there was any hint that this may not have been an accident."

Amelia knew what would happen. The trial would be delayed, pending an investigation. The traditionalists would push to have it shifted out to January or February when the judge rotation would favour them. They would also petition for guardianship of Harry. The investigation would drag on and almost certainly come up empty, because in the end, there were no suspects. One Deatheater was dead and one innocent but compromised traditionalist had died as well. She even felt her own magic directing her. Considering the options, she knew she had no real choice.

There really was only one answer. Albus Dumbledore was waiting for her to say it out loud. She wanted to choke the arrogant man with his own ridiculous beard, but they were apparently aligned. Very well, if he needed her to say it before he would leave, she'd say it.

"We do… nothing."

—Dance of Death—

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging, Surrey

October 31, 1995

The last week had been rough. At Harry's insistence, Vernon inquired about a potential overseas assignment to start in a year. Harry wanted to make sure they were in a safe place well before he turned 17 and the blood wards fell. Harry had pushed quite hard for this and Bill had even advised them that it would be far safer overseas. Apparently, this dovetailed with a proposal Grunning's had. Considering Uncle Vernon's willingness to relocate, he was offered a huge promotion. It required him to work for three years in the United States, based out of the Boston office. After which, he would become the Global VP of Sales.

Sirius had offered to purchase their new home in Boston through intermediaries and have it heavily warded well before they moved in. Technically, it would be a 'Black' property, but they were free to use it as they saw fit. This was to ensure it was safe and their names were not on the ward records at MACUSA. Neither of the Dursleys liked the idea of leaving England, but they reluctantly admitted that it was the smartest move.

The one area that was unsettled was where Harry would go. Harry planned to stay and fight while everyone around him thought he should move out. Harry knew if he left, Voldemort would eventually find him and his family. He wasn't willing to let that happen. In the end, Harry reminded them that they had a year before any decisions needed to be made and he promised to consider moving. But he just said that to get them off his back.

Harry was banned from the trial for his own safety. He hated that, but everyone seemed to agree it was for the best. Even Bill had admitted to agreeing. Harry's presence would accomplish nothing and would split the efforts of protection between Sirius and himself. Potentially preventing the Order from protecting Sirius should an assassination attempt occur. In the end, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had offered up their memories for review and it was now down to Sirius and three drops of Veritaserum.

Harry had a poor workout in the gym earlier that morning, his head just wasn't in it. Lou sent him home saying he was too distracted, and a good run would help clear his head. Tonks was turning into quite a runner with their morning jogs, so they decided to double time it and take the long route home. Lou was right, a good run did clear his head. After showering, Harry had spent the second half of the morning working with Aunt Petunia in the Garden where she tried to take his mind off the trial that was taking place today. He still loved the way gardening made him feel. It was peaceful and calming.

His training for the day had been cancelled due to the trial, but Remus was coming over to stay with him and Tonks. Harry had noticed how close the man had gotten to Tonks; it was nice to see. Lord knows Remus Lupin deserved happiness in his life. His clothes looked nicer, too. Apparently, he was getting paid to train Harry and Sirius was making sure his friend was taken care of. If it weren't for the looming threat of Voldemort and his Deatheaters, life would be great.

By noon, Harry was sitting with Remus and Tonks awaiting news on the trial. Assuming Sirius was found innocent, he had agreed to see a mind healer for a minimum of six months. After a simple evaluation, Andromeda would transfer Harry's magical guardianship back to him. Given that Harry would be about a year away from his independence, the transfer would be more symbolic. Regardless, Harry would be glad to have Sirius in his life. Regardless of his magical guardianship, he intended to stay with the Dursleys until they moved.

Harry and Andromeda were getting along better. Once she saw how hard he was working, she seemed to defrost and ease up a bit in her criticisms. Harry at least knew which fork to use and how to hold it. Ted had met Vernon and they got on famously. Apparently, they were both Muggle Football enthusiasts. Ironically, so was Tonks. The three of them had met up a few times for a pint at the local sports pub. Vernon was slowly beginning to accept that magic and the people who use it are not all bad. It helped when his team won, and a few pints were served.

Petunia had gone to run errands and had left out tea and scones. Looking around, Harry saw Tonks sitting close to Remus. Awfully close. They both seemed comfortable in this position. Good. Remus was reading the same book he started hours ago, but the pages didn't appear to have moved much. Tonks was off in her own world, no doubt they were both thinking about the trial. Wishing they could be there.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Harry leapt up and ran to it, while Remus and Tonks shouted for him to wait. With a short pause, he opened the door and saw Sirius. The man had put on weight and looked much healthier than the last time he had seen him. He had a silly grin on his face that spoke volumes. He was free.

Sirius stretched out his arms and Harry leapt into an embrace. Dimly, he was aware of others. Bill, Andromeda, Ted, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Amelia Bones, and even Dumbledore was there. Harry could have done without the last two, but he was too happy to protest. Forget the grudges, focus on the good. Dumbledore and his crazy ideology. Amelia and her past failures. Andromeda and her disapproving looks… none of that mattered. Just being here made it clear they were on his side.

Tomorrow he could ponder the schemes of Voldemort and the Deatheaters. The slanderous comments in the Daily Prophet. The numerous parties that wanted him out of the picture… But not today.

For today, he was only thinking about the present and the future, not the past.

Sirius was back in Britain.

He had come home.

—Dance of Death—

*I'm certain Tom Riddle would have been treated poorly by the Slytherin Pure Blood students at Hogwarts. He enjoyed tormenting the children and grandchildren of the purebloods that looked down their noses at him.

**The Denairastas Line is discussed in Casting Shadows. Took me a long time to get here, sorry about that. Writing a prequel at the same time as the primary story line has been a brutal endeavour.

Next Chapter: Tragedy #1

Sirius was now free, and Harry was surrounded by people that cared about him. His magic was slowly healing and the misery of his fourth year was far behind him. There have now been three chapters were things go relatively well for the young Hero of the story. Unfortunately, things have a way of balancing out. Never forget, tragedies tend to come in threes. And I really want to wrap up a certain scenario with Dolores Umbridge.

Also, what happened to the Malfoy plans? The assassins Lucius was planning to hire. We'll look at the unanswered questions in the next chapter. suffice to say, the Malfoys are not in a good place right now.

I skipped the trial as it would have been a long and drawn out section that in the added little to the story. Anyone who had ever seen a real trial knows how horribly boring they can be. With Veritaserum, the trial would be simple and to the point. Why add a bunch of drama to a story that already has enough to go around? Easier to just cut to the chase. So, I did.

I've focused on this story for three chapters to reach Sirius' trial, but now I'm going to begin splitting my time once more between this story and Casting Shadows. Occasionally I'll update Chimera Rising, but less frequently until I've completed one of the other stories.