Daphne was sitting under a tree, a book in her lap, watching her little sister chasing butterflies in front of her. She would be leaving for Hogwarts in a month for her first year. It was astonishing how fast she had grown.
'You clearly weren't born to be a Seeker, Storie,' she teased as her sister missed the butterfly with her net for the fifth time in a row.
'I'd rather be a Chaser,' Astoria protested.
'That also requires good aim. How else are you going to get the Quaffle through the hoops?'
'Magic,' Astoria replied naively.
The summer had been too peaceful, Daphne thought. What with Voldemort's return and everything, she had expected a more tumultuous July. But even now, in the first week of August, there was still nothing. She had written Susan, asking if she knew anything. She had replied in the negative, saying that her aunt was very tight-lipped about her work. Harry and Hermione had very little information themselves. They were in France, hiding from Voldemort and Dumbledore both. She imagined them sunbathing on the beaches of the Mediterranean and could not help but feel a little jealous.
'Which House is the best?' Astoria asked for the hundredth time that summer.
'They're all good,' Daphne gave the answer she had always given. 'Nobody will judge you based on where you go.'
'But you're in Slytherin,' she said. 'I want to be with you and all your friends!'
'All of my friends are in other Houses besides Slytherin,' Daphne replied. 'If you want to make friends, Slytherin might not be the best place to go.'
Astoria's eyes widened. 'Really?'
'Really. Susan's a Hufflepuff, Luna's a Ravenclaw, Ginny, Neville, and of course, Harry and Hermione are all Gryffindors.'
'Ooh! You're friends with Harry Potter?'
Daphne rolled her eyes at Astoria's obvious excitement. 'Yes, Storie. I am. But he really doesn't like that kind of attention.'
Astoria's eyes grew dreamy. 'I wish I could marry him…'
'You might be a little late to that party, Storie,' Daphne chortled. 'He's already…dating…someone.'
'Oh.'
'Yeah, and I've never seen two people more attached to each other. It's almost like they're married.'
Which they are, she added in her head.
Astoria looked defeated. 'Oh.'
'Well, there're other excellent blokes – or girls, if you're interested in that – at Hogwarts,' Daphne said with a giggle. 'You don't necessarily have to have Harry.'
'I still want to meet him, though,' Astoria pouted.
'You will,' Daphne promised, 'You'll see him around. He'll probably think of you as his little sister, too. He's nice like that.'
Astoria positively beamed at that thought of having Harry as her 'big brother'.
Daphne laughed. 'You can meet them when school starts. I'm sure Harry and everyone else will love – '
She was interrupted by a loud wailing sound that rent through the calm summer air. 'The alert wards! Someone's trying to break in.'
Astoria was looking positively frightened. 'What do we do?'
'Astoria, get inside,' Daphne ordered, drawing her wand. 'Mum is home. Have her call Amelia Bones.'
'What about you?'
'I can take care of myself,' she replied firmly. Astoria opened her mouth to protest. 'Don't argue. Do as I say! Go!'
Astoria dashed inside. Daphne rounded the house to the source of the disruption. There, outside the wards, stood Draco No-Name flanked by two tall, masked men.
'Didn't get enough the last time?' Daphne taunted.
Draco sneered. 'Shut up, you blood-traitor slut! These men aren't Crabbe or Goyle! They won't be beaten by a blood-traitor like you!'
'Try me.'
'Greyback, Scabior. Done?'
Daphne realized with a jolt of horror that the two men flanking Draco was two of the worst savages in the wizarding world. She could not even begin to imagine what would happen to Astoria, to Mum, if they managed to get their hands on them.
'Done,' a raspy voice replied. The man on No-Name's left pulled out what looked suspiciously like a crystal ball and banished it through the wards. When the ball impacted, it shattered and exploded with a blinding light. There was a bang, a surge of magic. The wards were down.
Daphne began casting with lethal force immediately. These three brutes were best left dead on the ground, lest they terrorize others. Her Blasting Curse very nearly nailed the man on No-Name's left right in the face.
'You whore!' No-Name shouted. 'You nearly killed him!'
'Good! Sectumsempra!'
Draco sidestepped the curse and bellowed in rage. 'Stupefy!'
'Is that all you can do, No-Name?' Daphne sneered. 'Confringo!'
The Death Eater on the left rolled out of the way of the curse. His hood fell off. 'When we're done with you, you'll wish you were dead!' Greyback yelled.
'Like you'll ever get me!' Daphne shot back. She carefully aimed her wand at the prone figure of the savage werewolf. 'Crucio!'
Greyback shrieked and writhed in pain as the Cruciatus Curse hit. Draco and Scabior, shocked by their companion's screams, relented their attack for a split second. That was all the time that Daphne needed.
'Oleoarde!' she cast, directing Hermione's curse at Scabior. The man was immediately drenched in conjured petrol. For a second, nothing happened. Then, his entire body was lit on fire and he wailed in horrible agony as he was incinerated alive.
Draco seemed to give no mind to his companion's fate and continued his attack, a look of abject hatred on his face.
'Avada Kedavra!' No-Name screamed. He no longer restrained himself to non-lethal spells. Daphne stepped aside easily. Draco's casting was weak. His Killing Curse flew at an almost leisurely pace and was no threat at all.
Greyback was on his feet now, too. Following No-Name's lead, he shot a Killing Curse of his own towards Daphne. His curse was more powerful, but Daphne managed to sidestep it just as easily. All her training with Harry and Hermione was paying off.
'Sectumsempra!' Daphne cast again. Greyback moved to duck out of the way of the curse.
And then, several things happened at once.
A red spell flew from behind Daphne and hit an off-guard Greyback right in the stomach. The werewolf fell, Stunned. Draco looked to his left and right. On one side lay the charred corpse of Scabior, on the other, the unconscious form of Greyback.
He barely had any time to respond as Daphne heard several pops of apparition. A tall, dark-skinned man and a man with short, red hair, both in red Auror robes, appeared. Behind them both stood the imposing form of Amelia Bones.
Draco No-Name took one look at the newcomers and turned to disapparate, abandoning Greyback to the Aurors.
The dark-skinned Auror was quick on his draw, but not quite fast enough. His Stunning Spell just barely missed Draco as he disappeared. Daphne heard him curse under his breath.
'Shacklebolt, Proudfoot,' Amelia addressed the Aurors in an authoritative tone, 'Examine the bodies.'
'Amelia, thank you for coming so quickly,' gushed a voice behind Daphne that she recognized as her mother's. Daphne realized that it was her that had cast the Stunning Spell that had taken out Greyback.
'It's my duty,' Amelia Bones replied, business-like.
The silence was heavy as the Aurors examined the two bodies on the ground. Daphne felt her mother's hand grip her right shoulder tightly. She was trembling a little.
'This one was Scabior,' the dark-skinned Auror addressed Amelia. 'Wanted for robbery, murder, rape, and a bunch of other crimes. Nothing on him. He was burnt to a crisp. He got hit by some kind of flame-producing curse. I can't identify it, though.'
'Thank you, Shacklebolt. Proudfoot?'
The red-haired man – Proudfoot – looked up. 'Greyback,' he said in an Irish accent. 'Stunned. He's wanted for too many things to name, Amelia. He's also wearing Death Eater robes.'
'They've joined up with Lord Voldemort, then,' Amelia muttered. 'Did anyone identify the Death Eater who fled?'
'Draco No-Name, Madam,' Daphne answered as the Aurors shook their heads.
'No-Name is a Death Eater?' Proudfoot asked.
'He was on the list of those who had escaped the graveyard,' Shacklebolt answered. 'If he had not taken the Mark then, he must have taken it by now. Voldemort would not allow him to lead two…savages…otherwise.'
Amelia nodded. 'Proudfoot, bring Greyback to the holding cells. Fudge won't have an excuse to not try this one. Make sure you have his wand.'
The Irish Auror gathered up the werewolf's wand and Portkeyed himself and the body away. That left Amelia and Shacklebolt standing together in the garden.
'Sirius Black is still in France, Ariadne?' Amelia asked Daphne's mother.
'Yes. He won't be back until the end of August,' she replied. 'Harry Potter is with him, I believe.'
'I'm going to ask them to cut their vacation short,' Amelia said. 'We're at war, no matter what Fudge says. I understand that they're trying to keep out of the way of Albus and Voldemort, but we need them back, and soon. We will need a more…organized effort.'
The days had melted into weeks, and before Harry knew it, he had been in France for over a month already. He had celebrated the best birthday he had ever had a week ago. It was too confusing to celebrate two ages, so by universal agreement, Harry had celebrated his fifteenth birthday. He did not mind. It made him feel young, unblemished, unhurt.
They had their own private beach. The sand was fine and warm under the midsummer sun, contrasting pleasantly with the cooling waters of the Bay of Biscay. Harry spent the better part of the day sunbathing on it with Hermione, reading a book or playing a game or two of Exploding Snap, generally finding enjoyment in life that they had not had in the 'old timeline'.
Hermione had made Harry squirm when she had modelled her skimpy swimsuits. When she ended up not wearing a bikini top at all, Harry's self-control had crumbled. Beach sex was not too great, however. Sand was coarse and rough and got everywhere.
After the first night, all seven of them got together to cook their lunches and dinners. It was always done outdoors, and the delicious smell of sizzling meat always managed to make Harry's stomach rumble. It would take a good few weeks of training to work off the extra fat from just this month.
It almost felt too good to be true, but it was true.
Harry woke up on the fifth of August like any other morning. Except perhaps that this morning, he had taken a shower with Hermione, leading to, in retrospect, quite predictable consequences. They made their way down to the beach and spent the morning alternating between reading, talking and taking a dip in the water. It was all very boring, but it was a good type of boring, and Harry enjoyed every second.
Remus had prepared Brazilian barbeque for lunch. He was quite talented at cooking with meat. Harry did not know if Tonks's mouth was watering at the meat or at Remus.
An owl arrived in the mid-afternoon. They were used to owls. Harry and Hermione had been sending weekly letters to their friends, while Sirius had to send the occasional owl for business reasons. This owl, however, carried something altogether different.
Sirius's eyes widened as he read the letter. He grew stiff in his chair and his face paled rapidly.
'What's wrong, Sirius?' Helen asked, concerned.
'Amelia Bones sent the owl,' Sirius replied, his voice trembling. 'She is the director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. There's been an attack.'
'An attack?' Hermione gasped.
Sirius nodded jerkily. 'Draco No-Name led Greyback and Scabior on an attack at the Greengrass home. Greyback is in custody. Scabior was killed. No-Name got away.'
'Greyback is a werewolf,' Remus explained for the Grangers' sake. He shuddered slightly, and Harry knew why. 'He's, well, simply put, a savage. Scabior is a known child predator and serial murderer. Voldemort seemed to have hired them as brutes.'
'Not a tragedy that Scabior's dead, then?' Josh asked. The former sergeant looked pale and unnerved.
'Not at all. I only wish Greyback had received the same fate,' Remus replied.
'There's something else,' Sirius continued. 'Amelia has asked that the kids and I return. She says we need some kind of…coordination. I think she wants the prominent members of the resistance to Voldemort to gather. The rest of you can stay, of course.'
'If you have to go back, then we'll go back,' Josh said. 'We're not letting you guys possibly get in mortal danger while we're here safe. We can't do that. Not as parents.'
Remus nodded. 'I might be needed. If Greyback has been recruited…' He shuddered again as his voice died.
'Well, then I'm not staying here by myself,' Tonks added. 'Besides, it won't hurt Amelia to have another Auror on hand.'
'So we're all leaving?' Six heads nodded their consensus around the table.
'We'll depart tomorrow morning,' Sirius announced imperiously. 'Is there a faster non-magical way to travel than the train?'
'We can fly,' Helen replied, 'Last minute airplane tickets are expensive, though.'
'No problem,' Sirius, Harry, and Hermione said in unison.
The next morning, bright and early, the seven apparated to Bordeaux, where the Grangers had said was the nearest large airport with flights directly to London. Sirius purchased seven tickets on the next flight out – nobody asked how much he had paid – and they were in the air, on the way back, by noon.
They touched down at Gatwick a bit more than an hour later. Remus apparated the Grangers home, while Sirius, Harry, and Hermione rushed back to Grimmauld Place. The moment they had put down their things, Sirius ducked into the kitchen and Flooed Amelia.
Harry and Hermione spent nearly ten minutes in nervous silence before Sirius charged in.
'Meeting at five at the Bones home,' Sirius said breathlessly. 'We're all expected. I'm going to Andie's. She asked me to let her and Cissy know if something like this happens. You two take care of yourselves for lunch. Kreacher'll make something simple. I'll be back to get you in a few hours.'
Lunch was a tense affair. Kreacher's cooking was excellent as usual, but Harry and Hermione barely had any appetite. They constantly glanced down at their watches, nervously counting down how much time remained before the meeting and wondering what would be discussed.
Finally, at half-past-four, Sirius returned. He immediately dashed into the shower to clean up and put on clean robes. Harry and Hermione abandoned their muggle clothing and pulled on dress robes. Now was not the time to buck fashion trends.
Sirius threw the powder into the Floo and Harry and Hermione stepped through. Sirius followed a second later. They were greeted a second later by the familiar and welcome sight of Amelia Bones.
'Welcome back, Harry, Hermione, Sirius,' she greeted, business-like. 'Right this way.'
The three of them followed Amelia into a large conference room. Almost twenty people seemed to have gathered there. Harry saw Mr Weasley, Bill, Augusta Longbottom, Kingsley, both Greengrasses, Tonks and Remus, sitting next to each other, Andromeda, Narcissa, and several others that Harry did not recognize.
Amelia called the meeting to order. 'You know why you're here,' she said curtly. 'Let's not waste time with pleasantries. As you know, several days ago, there was a Death Eater attack at the home of one of those sitting at this table.'
'Considering that Cornelius Fudge refuses to even acknowledge the possibility that Voldemort may have returned, we are here to take matters into our own hands. Now.'
Amelia slammed a folder on the desk. 'Emmeline Vance was arrested at the Ministry last evening,' she announced to gasps around the table. 'She was trespassing in the corridor outside the Department of Mysteries. Given the hour this arrest occurred, we believe this is not a coincidence.'
Harry looked at Amelia, trying to communicate without words that he knew what was happening. Dumbledore had the Order guarding the Prophecy again. Amelia seemed to understand and gave the slightest nod in his direction in acknowledgement.
'All of you here are, in one way or another, affiliated with the faction against Voldemort. As such, you will most certainly be targeted. If you consent, I would like to have the DMLE conduct a survey of the protective enchantments and wards around your primary residence.'
Nearly every head around the table nodded their consent.
'Good,' Amelia said authoritatively. 'You must all also make plans for in case you need to make a a quick getaway. Portkeys, emergency addresses, safe rooms, traps, vanishing cabinets, or perhaps elvish apparition. As we know from the last war, Death Eaters like to disable Floo connections and put up Portkey-disabling and anti-apparition enchantments when raiding a home. You will need to have methods available that can get around those enchantments. Questions?'
Amelia nodded after a long moment of silence. 'Now, for the situation at hand. The Auror Office has…survived…Fudge's gutting of funding. There should be a system set up to rapidly contact the Aurors should an attack occur. Does anyone have any ideas?'
The first thought that came into Harry's mind was muggle cell phones. He was about to suggest it when he realized how much of a logistical nightmare it would be. They would need to find a way to enchant cell phones to survive direct magic, then, they would have to distribute the devices and teach every wizard how to use them. It was impractical.
Thankfully, Sirius spoke up with a solution. 'When I was younger, Remus and I enchanted a set of two-way communication mirrors. If we can miniaturize them and have them all tied to a single 'master' mirror…'
'It can be done,' Remus supplied. 'It'll take a few modifications to the Charms on it, but that's nothing we can't figure out.'
Amelia and everyone else around the table looked impressed. 'How fast can you make them?'
'It'll take a week to get it to work, probably,' Remus replied. 'After that, it's just a matter of making them. There are…twenty-something people here? Maybe another week.'
'How much?'
'Pardon?' Sirius asked, sounding genuinely confused.
'Cost, Sirius,' Amelia said. 'Twenty mirrors. How much in Galleons?'
'Oh. You don't have to pay. It's for safety, isn't it?'
'The DMLE will foot the bill,' Amelia replied with a small sideways look at Harry and Hermione. 'If it works, then we can expand this system to the rest of the country.'
Sirius nodded. 'We'll work on it,' he promised.
'Thank you. Anyone else?'
Bill spoke up. 'My brothers are working on some sort of Charmed clothing. I've heard them talk about Shield Hats. If you're interested…'
'Do they have working prototypes?' Amelia asked, curious.
Bill and Mr Weasley exchanged a glance. 'No idea,' Bill replied, 'But they're working on it. I think you'd best speak to them.'
'Thank you. Those might come in useful for protecting Ministry employees…or children. Very well. Anyone else?'
There was no more response from around the table. 'That'll be it for today, then,' Amelia said finally. 'You will all be called back soon, once our…measures…become available. Good day.'
Those present at the meeting began solemnly shuffling out of the room. A couple exchanged a few words with Amelia as they left. Harry, Hermione, and Sirius, however, remained behind.
'You wanted to tell me something,' Amelia got right down to business when the last person left the house.
Harry nodded. 'We know why Emmeline Vance was at the Department of Mysteries and what she was guarding.'
'Care to explain?'
'Dumbledore told us that there was a Prophecy,' Hermione said. 'A Prophecy regarding Harry and Voldemort.'
Amelia's eyes widened in understanding. 'You're saying that Emmeline Vance was…protecting the Prophecy from Voldemort's Death Eaters? It'd make sense. The Department of Mysteries has a record of all the prophecies ever made in this country.'
'That's exactly what I think she was doing.'
'Emmeline was a member of the Order of the Phoenix,' Sirius supplied. 'Albus re-called the order. I'll bet you that she was there on Albus's orders.'
'But that's unnecessary!' Amelia pointed out. 'No one can retrieve a prophecy besides the people it names! That's a well-known…not quite fact, but nonetheless, Albus should know.'
'Perhaps Albus wants to take no chances.'
'Possible,' Amelia agreed. 'What do we do about it?'
'Nothing?' Sirius suggested. 'Albus is using his resources that could otherwise be used to give us trouble. And it's not like setting an extra guard on whatever Prophecy that's held there is a necessarily bad thing. Albus cannot know that we know what he's up to, though.'
'That's been taken care of. Vance's memory of that night was modified before she was released.'
'Good. If there's nothing else, Amelia, we should head home, get started with the mirrors.'
'Ah, good afternoon, Minerva.'
Minerva McGonagall looked up from the latest edition of Transfiguration Today that she was reading. 'Yes, Albus?' she asked in a slightly annoyed voice.
'Ah, Transfiguration Today.Have you seen the paper by Cheehashkish?' Albus asked conversationally. 'Truly fascinating investigation on the mechanics of inter-species transfiguration using principles of indigenous American magic. I daresay he might be in the running for an Ibn Sina Prize at the next ICW meeting.'
'Yes, yes, very interesting,' Minerva replied emotionlessly, wanting to skip the small talk. She knew that Dumbledore was trying to loosen her up so that he could ask something of her, and she did not feel like entertaining him. 'What is it that you sought me out for?'
Albus did not seem to give any thought to her curt attitude. 'I was a little concerned by your choices for Prefect, Minerva.'
Minerva raised an eyebrow. 'Potter and Granger? Who could possibly deserve the position more? Both straight "O" students, haven't been caught in any wrongdoing in the past year, which I must say is a record for Potter, and thanks to their influence, Longbottom's grades have shot up.'
'I do agree with your choice in Miss Granger, Minerva,' Albus said placidly. 'But I am concerned about Harry.'
'Why?' Minerva demanded curtly.
'Do you not think that he has…ah…too many responsibilities already? What now with the return of Voldemort.'
Minerva snorted. 'Too many responsibilities? That's your reason why Potter shouldn't be given the Prefect badge?'
'He has the constant threat of Voldemort and the Death Eaters hanging over him,' Albus reasoned, 'Add to that Fudge's vehement denial of Voldemort's return. Do you not think that he has enough to worry about?'
'Which is exactly why he should be given the badge, Albus,' Minerva shot back. 'It'll show him that we have faith in him to handle greater responsibilities.'
Albus sighed. 'Minerva, are you not the least bit concerned about the influence he is having? Or his actions in the graveyard?'
'His influence? You mean getting Longbottom to realize his potential? You mean saving a girl from a horrible attack from Draco No-Name, who, mind you, is now a marked Death Eater? And what about the graveyard? His actions made it so that people who would gladly kill and torture will not have the chance to do so.'
'I do not believe that it is prudent to have Harry in a position where he could exert his beliefs and influence on others,' Albus said flatly. 'I believe it would be better for Mister Weasley to be given the badge instead.'
Minerva's jaw dropped open. 'Weasley? Albus, Weasley has averaged a "P" in my class since November! He refuses to put more time into his studies, as much as I try to tell him that he will not make it past O.W.L. year going on like this. What's more, he has been put into multiple detentions for attempting to use illegal potions on another student. Is this the kind of person you would like to reward with the position of Prefect?'
'It would be a good influence on him, Minerva,' Albus replied, unfazed. 'He would learn to handle responsibility. Furthermore, I'm sure that spending some time with Miss Granger would be beneficial to both of them.'
'Let me get this straight. You want to make Weasley a Prefect together with Granger? Are you aware of the state of their relationship?'
'It would give them a chance to make up,' Albus said nonchalantly.
'No,' Minerva snapped, wanting to end this discussion before she lost her temper at the Headmaster. 'I refuse to make Weasley a Prefect. He doesn't even remotely deserve the badge. If you really want to overrule me with Potter, then I will make Longbottom Prefect instead.'
'I'm afraid it would not be prudent to give Mister Longbottom the badge, either,' Albus objected. 'He, I'm sure, is dealing with as much as Harry is.'
'Then I would rather nominate no boys' Prefect than pick Weasley.'
'I'm sorry, Minerva, but I, as Headmaster, must overrule you,' Albus said apologetically. 'I believe that it is for the best interests of everyone at Hogwarts that Mister Weasley is made Prefect. I will be sending him his badge tomorrow.'
Minerva glared daggers at the Headmaster. 'If you insist on sowing the wind, you'll reap the whirlwind, Albus.'
Draco Malfoy's body lay twitching at the Dark Lord's feet. The boy was not, and will never be, Draco No-Name, in his eyes. When he finally took over, he would make sure that the boy, who had so quickly become one of his most faithful servants, would be returned to his proper place in society that he should have always had by virtue of his name.
That did not mean, however, that his failures were to go unpunished. He had led Scabior to his death – that was no loss, for he was just a filthy thug hired for his brutality – but the Dark Lord was short on manpower. He could not risk taking more losses.
He desired the Prophecy. He needed it. Ever since the day of his return, he had held a single-minded obsession with hearing it. Severus had only heard a small part of it. He needed to hear the rest, he needed to know his destiny. Surely, there would be something in there that explained why the boy had been able to so easily even the odds in the graveyard. The Dark Lord needed to know it to counter it.
But he could not do it with the resources and manpower he had right now. Whatever the boy spewed, the Dark Lord knew the truth. Lucius Malfoy was worse than dead and his family fortune was in the hands of the blood-traitor Black. He needed the Lestranges. They would give him the access to the money he needed.
That would involve taking Azkaban, however, which was not going to be an easy feat. If he made a move on the prison, then not even the idiot Fudge could deny that he had returned. He had already sent an envoy to the dementors and they had seemed at least not reluctant to join his cause. That was a small victory, but an important one.
The Dark Lord knew that he was working against two opposite time constraints. Most glaringly, he needed Azkaban to bolster his forces as soon as possible. Unfortunately, he had to wait for the right time, when an assault on the prison would not instantly give his return away to the general public. When those two timelines intersected would be the perfect time to strike. He just needed to know when.
Until that occurred, raids had to be called off. Clearly, his enemy was stronger than he had first imagined. To go after them with inferior numbers was asking for defeat. He had been a fool to allow Draco his revenge. It would not happen again.
'Cornelius, this must be done!'
'Dolores, we cannot simply murder the boy!'
'We won't be murdering him,' Dolores Umbridge pointed out. 'We'll simply be taking his soul.'
'Which amounts to the same thing! And what happens if he's gone? Who'd be the figurehead against You-Know-Who? You know he's back, even if admitting it will destroy everything we've worked for!'
'The Aurors, of course,' Dolores replied, 'Or yourself.' She saw Cornelius glow at the second suggestion. Privately, she would like nothing more than for the Dark Lord to take over. The Mudbloods needed to be shown their proper place in society, and Dolores knew that she would find her proper niche, doing what she loved – righting the world.
She could see Cornelius begin to turn. 'It'll get traced back to me,' he protested, though Dolores could see that his heart was no longer in the protest. 'I'm the only one who's supposed to have authority over the dementors.'
'Supposed to,' Dolores emphasized. 'You could simply say, for example, that someone went rogue and stole one of the dementor control medals. You could even pin it on one of your adversaries. Maybe Amelia Bones.' She giggled at her brilliance.
'You're right,' Cornelius said. 'That'll be the perfect chance to oust Bones. We can say that she didn't put up enough security and that led to the control medal being stolen.'
'Exactly!' Dolores simpered. 'We'll solve so many problems at once. The boy, Bones's insubordination, and maybe even the Wizengamot will get on your side now if they see what happens to someone who dares to disobey you!'
'Brilliant,' Cornelius breathed, awed. 'This will be done as soon as possible?'
Dolores nodded. 'The boy spends most of his time in the muggle world,' Dolores said with a sneer at the word 'muggle'. How unbefitting of the supposed saviour of the wizarding world to be living with that kind of rabble. 'Nobody will be there to help him, and he should have the Trace on him. We can get him expelled and his wand snapped even if we don't get his soul.'
'And you will be taking over that Defence Against the Dark Arts position come fall?'
'Of course,' Dolores replied. 'That'll give us a chance to check Dumbledore's influence and give us control of Hogwarts.'
'I expected nothing less than brilliance from you, Dolores. I shall fetch the control medals. You will have them by the end of the day.'
A/N: The Ibn Sina Prize is my magical analogue to the Nobel Prize. It is named after Abu Ali al-Husain ibn Abdallah ibn Sina, a Persian polymath and alchemist, considered the founder of modern medicine.
