Remus and Tonks were the first to react after the patronus weasel vanished from sight. "We shouldn't be here." Remus said quickly as he stood up, much to mine and dad's disappointment as he grabbed Tonks by the hand. "Harry, I'm sorry, I'll explain another time…" They rushed for the fence together in order to get beyond the boundary before disapparating from sight before the minister could find them here. It was a good thing that they left as soon as they did, because the next thing we knew, there were two pops of sound and Arthur appeared behind the gate with Rufus Scrimgeour, our Minister of Magic. He was stopped at the boundary, one of my own charms keeping him at bay until Arthur rather reluctantly gave him permission to enter, having no other choice. It was fine, I could scrub the charm and reset it to lock him back out later.
Everyone sat in a stony silence save for those who had stood up with suspicious glares. Myself, dad, Harry and Bill included. "Sorry to intrude. Especially as I can see that I am gate-crashing a party." His eye was then cast over us, briefly lingering on the cake. "Many happy returns."
"Thanks." Harry responded rather stiffly. That brought Scrimgeour's attention right down on him.
"I require a private word with you. Also with Mr Ronald Weasley, Miss Hermione Granger and Miss Euphemia Black." That took me by surprise, my expression going slack as the four of us all looked at each other quickly.
"Us? Why us?"
"I shall tell you that when we are somewhere more private." Scrimgeour then turned to Arthur and spoke rather demandingly which made me bristle against him, Fawkes ruffling his feathers as he sensed my unease. "Is there such a place?"
"Yes, of course. The…er…sitting room, why don't you use that?" Arthur suggested so Scrimgeour more or less ordered Ron to lead the way before announcing that there was no need for Arthur or anyone else to accompany us. He had looked rather pointedly at my dad who seemed one twitch away from grabbing his wand so I gave his arm a squeeze as I stepped over the bench, whispering to him not to worry as I'd keep an eye on Scrimgeour and I'd yell if there was trouble. I went in last, glancing over my shoulder to see everyone watching us rather worriedly before I ducked my head into the kitchen and went through to the sitting room.
Harry turned on the lights with an effortless flick of his wand, Scrimgeour taking up residence in Arthur's favourite chair which made me feel all the more indignant and my dislike for him grew further. I perched on the arm of the sofa beside Hermione as they all clustered together on the sofa, Fawkes still perched on my shoulder though his head was tucked under his wing and he'd squatted down in order to sleep, though I had a feeling he was only pretending. "I have some questions for the four of you, and I think it will be best if we do it individually. If you three could wait upstairs, I will start with Ronald." He jerked a hand towards Harry, Hermione and I but none of us moved.
"We're not going anywhere. You can speak to us together or not at all." This earned Harry a rather scathing glare from the minister, but he seemed to decide that it wasn't worth the argument.
"Very well, then, together." He grunted before then settling himself more comfortably in the chair, leaning forwards and resting his elbows on his knees in order to look at us intently. "I am here, as I'm sure you know, because of Albus Dumbledore's will." That actually took me by surprise, I hadn't been expecting that. "A surprise, apparently! You were not aware then, that Dumbledore had left you anything?"
"A-all of us?" Ron stuttered, just as shocked as the rest of us. "Me and Hermione too?"
"And me?" I added as I then arched an eyebrow, wondering why the minister had chosen to deliver this news in person.
"Dumbledore died over a month ago. Why has it taken this long to give us what he left us?" Harry demanded with a glare but before he could answer, Hermione spoke up.
"Isn't it obvious? They wanted to examine whatever he's left us. You had no right to do that!"
"I had every right." Scrimgeour responded rather sharply, making my hand slide over to Hermione in order to signal that he'd better be careful with how he spoke to her. I wouldn't allow such a dismissive and disrespectful tone, even if he was the ruddy Minster of Magic. "The Decree for Justifiable Confiscation gives the Ministry the power to confiscate the contents of a will…"
"That law was created to stop wizards passing on Dark artefacts." Hermione interrupted him sharply, her voice shaking a good deal less now that she had found some of her confidence. "And the Ministry is supposed to have powerful evidence that the deceased's possessions are illegal before seizing them! Are you telling me that you thought Dumbledore was trying to pass us something cursed?"
"Looks like you've been cornered in this case, minister." I told him smoothly with a slight rumble like a growl in the back of my throat. Scrimgeour glanced at me with a rather sour expression before he looked at Hermione again, this time with a great deal of interest before asking her if she was planning to follow a career in Magical Law.
"No I'm not. I'm hoping to do some good in the world!" Unable to help it, I snorted and Ron laughed. Now completely shut down, Scrimgeour did not speak again so Harry jumped in with another question.
"So why have you decided to let us have our things now? Can't think of a pretext to keep them?"
"No, it'll be because the thirty-one days are up. They can't keep the objects longer than that unless they can prove they're dangerous, right?" Ignoring Hermione now, Scrimgeour focused on Ron with his eyes seeming rather intense in a manner which made Ron squirm uncomfortably.
"Would you say you were close to Dumbledore, Ronald?"
"Me? Not…not really…it was always Harry who…" He trailed off when Harry nudged him and Hermione looked at him with alarm but Scrimgeour pounced immediately on what Ron had said.
"If you were not very close to Dumbledore, how do you account for the fact that he remembered you in his will? He made exceptionally few personal bequests. The vast majority of his possessions – his private library, his magical instruments – were left to Hogwarts. Why do you think you were singled out?" But Ron was now flustered and couldn't think of a single reason as to why Dumbledore would bequeath him something, stuttering out that he hadn't thought of them as being close but that Dumbledore might have liked him well enough.
"You're being modest, Ron. Dumbledore was very fond of you." Hermione supplied shortly as I clicked my tongue.
"Just look at who's sitting here, Minister." I told him, forcing him to pay attention to my words in order to distract him from Ron. "Myself, Harry, Ron and Hermione, all of whom have either received awards for services to the school or been involved in some manner to resolve dangerous situations. There was the Philosopher's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets and the basilisk, the dementors, the Triwizard Tournament, Voldemort returning – you know, that small thing – stopping him from stealing a prophecy about himself, we've all contributed a great deal to Hogwarts and Dumbledore always made it known that he acknowledged our efforts. Perhaps this is his way of showing us his personal gratitude now that he is gone. Are you telling me that with all those supposedly intelligent people at the Ministry, you couldn't figure that out on your own?" His jaw was now clenched tightly. "Right, now let's hear that will, shall we?"
Having no other choice, Scrimgeour pulled out a scroll of parchment which he unravelled in order to read it, speaking aloud so that we could all here. "The Last Will and Testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore…yes here we are…to Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it." From a bag, Scrimgeour retrieved a small silver object which he handed over to Ron who began to inspect it immediately. "That is a valuable object. It may even be unique. Certainly it is of Dumbledore's own design. Why would he have left you an item so rare?" Scrimgeour interrogated coldly, eyeing Ron scrupulously to gauge his reaction.
"Put lights out, I s'pose. What else could I do with it?" Clearly disappointed with Ron's answer, Scrimgeour then continued with Hermione's part of the will.
"To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard', in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive." Drawing out a small, worn book that looked like it had been read hundreds of times over, Scrimgeour handed it over to Hermione who caressed it lovingly as she did with any book. "Why do you think Dumbledore left you that book, Miss Granger?"
"He…he knew I liked books." Pressing her for more information, Scrimgeour asked why that particular book, as if it meant something significant. "I don't know. He must have thought I'd enjoy it."
"Did you ever discuss codes, or any means of passing secret messages with Dumbledore?" Hermione bristled at this, flatly telling Scrimgeour that she had done nothing of the sort, and that if the Ministry had failed to find any secret messages in the book in thirty-one days, then she very much doubted she would. I smirked to myself at that, doubting very highly that Hermione wouldn't be able to figure it out. After all, Dumbledore never did anything without reason. Scrimgeour continued to survey her, so I stepped in to give Hermione a break as she had started to cry softly.
"Hermione is muggle-born, so perhaps Dumbledore gave her the book for light reading. It's full of fairy tales, after all. Hermione would never have come across them before." I pointed out, once again making Scrimgeour seem all the more idiotic for thinking that there were secret messages within all these gifts. He glared at me as he read the next part, which was now addressed to me.
"To Miss Euphemia Selene Black, I bequeath my most faithful and loyal friend into her care, Fawkes the Phoenix, in the hope she will find his companionship as comforting and rewarding as I had. May he remain with you until the time is right for him to return to the wild. Of course, you left with the phoenix on the day of Dumbledore's funeral, so there was no means for us to confiscate the creature, and he appears to be quite comfortable with you. Were you aware this was what Dumbledore intended all along?"
"No, I had no idea." I answered truthfully as I brushed my fingers against Fawkes who shifted a little closer to me with a click of his beak as he kept his head tucked under his wing sleepily. "Fawkes was always friendly with me, I met him a couple of times during my school years since I was often sent to the headmaster's office for causing trouble. We just…bonded. I've always been good with animals, and Fawkes is as intelligent as they come. Maybe he knew that I was meant to look after him after Dumbledore was gone." Rather stunned but undeniably elated that Dumbledore had trusted me with his most beloved friend, I chuckled inwardly as I thought of Orion sleeping upstairs. He did not like Fawkes much, but it appeared they would have to get along now. Scrimgeour didn't seem to think that Fawkes was hiding any secrets, as he moved onto the final part of Dumbledore's will.
"To Harry James Potter, I leave the snitch he caught in his first quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill." With that, Scrimgeour pulled out that very same snitch from the bag as its wings fluttered feebly and looked at Harry closely. "Why did Dumbledore leave you this snitch?"
"No idea. For the reasons you just read out, I suppose…to remind me what you can get if you…persevere and whatever it was."
"You think this a mere symbolic keepsake, then?" Giving Scrimgeour a sour look, Harry responded rather sarcastically.
"I suppose so. What else could it be?"
"I'm asking the questions." He snapped quickly as he shifted closer to us. "I notice that your birthday cake is in the shape of a snitch. Why is that?" Part of me wanted to laugh, the other part wanted to shout in frustration at this man's short sightedness. It were as if he was desperate to find a reason to keep these gifts from us, to find Dumbledore's last words meant only for us whilst being completely unaware that they had already been given. I remembered mine with a shudder. Goodbye, Mia. I know that you will accomplish many extraordinary things in your long lifetime. There was no mistaking it, that had been a final farewell, and in that moment he had told me not to hold back on anything. With a start, a sudden thought occurred. What if Scrimgeour was so desperate to find this message was because he had been ordered to do so by someone on Voldemort's side? It would make sense, Voldemort would want to know what Dumbledore left in his will and why.
"Oh it can't be a reference to the fact Harry's a great seeker, that's way too obvious." Hermione had been saying rather snappishly. "There must be a secret message from Dumbledore hidden in the icing!"
"You're welcome to have a slice and check for yourself if you like." I invited but Scrimgeour calmly responded that he did not think that there was a message in the icing, but that the snitch would be the perfect place to hide a small object, before then asking if we knew why.
"Because snitches have flesh memories." Ron and Harry looked at Hermione with shock, clearly not expecting her to have a clue about quidditch. They really needed to stop underestimating her.
"Correct. A snitch is not touched by bare skin before it is released, not even by the maker, who wears gloves. It carries an enchantment by which it can identify the first human to lay hands upon it, in case of a disputed capture. This snitch will remember your touch, Potter. It occurs to me that Dumbledore, who had prodigious magical skill, whatever his other faults, might have enchanted this snitch so that it will open only for you." Harry was silent which Scrimgeour took to mean that he was right. "You don't say anything. perhaps you already know what the snitch contains?"
"Or maybe he just thinks you're barking mad." I suggested flatly. Instructing Harry to take it, we all watched as Harry gradually reached out his hand in order to pick up the snitch, curling his entire hand around it as my left hand discreetly strayed towards my wand, ready to stun Scrimgeour at a moment's notice. Thankfully, nothing happened as Harry held the now limp winged snitch in his hand, Ron and Hermione laughing shakily before she started to rise.
"That's all then, is it?"
"Not quite. Dumbledore left you a second bequest, Potter."
"What is it?" Harry questioned a little too eagerly, making Scrimgeour arch an eyebrow at him.
"The sword of Godric Gryffindor." That had not been something any one of us would have guessed, but it was clear that there was no sword in sight, so Harry demanded to know where it was. "Unfortunately, that sword was not Dumbledore's to give away. The sword of Godric Gryffindor is an important historical artefact, and as such, belongs…"
"It belongs to Harry! It chose him, he was the one who found it, it came to him out of the Sorting Hat…" Hermione's interruption was then interrupted by Scrimgeour who sharply corrected her.
"According to reliable historic sources, the sword may present itself to any worthy Gryffindor. That does not make it the exclusive property of Mr Potter, whatever Dumbledore may have decided. Why do you think-?"
"Dumbledore wanted to give me the sword?" Sounding a little angry with his voice rising, Harry glowered at Scrimgeour. "Maybe he thought it would look nice on my wall." Seeing that we were now sharply turning towards conflict, I stood up carefully as not to disturb Fawkes, but made my presence known.
"I think it's time you left, Minister." But Scrimgeour remained seated, barely shifting his eyes away from Harry as his voice raised to match against him.
"This is not a joke, Potter! Was it because Dumbledore believed that only the sword of Godric Gryffindor could defeat the Heir of Slytherin? Did he wish to give you that sword, Potter, because he believed, as do many, that you are the one destined to destroy He Who Must Not Be Named?"
"Interesting theory." Harry returned as Hermione and I glanced at one another, my hand now gripping the handle of my wand as Fawkes lifted his head from under his wing in order to survey the situation before him. "Has anyone ever tried sticking a sword in Voldemort? Maybe the Ministry should put some people onto that, instead of wasting their time stripping down Deluminators, or covering up breakouts from Azkaban. So is this what you've been doing, Minister, shut up in your office, trying to break open a snitch? People are dying, I was nearly one of them, Voldemort chased me across three counties, but there's been no word about any of that from the Ministry, has there? And you still expect us to cooperate with you!"
"You go too far!" Now speaking with a resonant bellow, Scrimgeour leaped up from the armchair and started towards Harry but Fawkes screeched at him threateningly, spreading his wings as I raised my wand and pointed it at the Minister's chest protectively, making him stand still though he glared at me. "I could have you arrested for threatening me, girl."
"Try it. We'll see how that works out for you." I challenged as Hermione gasped beside me, desperately clawing at my arm to try and pull me back down. Fawkes remained positioned ready to spring at the Minister, wings spread and hissing through his beak as my wand remained level with Scrimgeour as his wand had also appeared in his hand, pointed at us on the sofa. Moments later, the sound of pounding feet came rushing into the room as my dad, Arthur and Molly came rushing inside with shouts from the others outside. Molly gasped when she saw Scrimgeour and I with our wands pointed at each other and Arthur had to leap on my dad to lock his arms before he could spring across to attack the Minister himself.
Checking himself, Scrimgeour lowered his wand and it was only when I saw it being tucked away did I lower mine, though I did not replace it. It remained firmly gripped in my hand as Fawkes settled back on my shoulder, eyeing Scrimgeour warily. "It was nothing. I…regret your attitude." He said to Harry more than anyone, focusing on him. "You seem to think that the Ministry does not desire what you – what Dumbledore – desired. We ought to be working together."
"I don't like your methods, Minister. Remember?" Raising his hand, Harry showed Scrimgeour the scars on the back of his hand which read the words I must not tell lies in pale, silvery writing. He had the decency to flinch as I lifted my right hand, which bore similar marks only the scars were looped and pretty, just like my handwriting, forming the words I must have written a hundred times over. I must be obedient. Looking at the both of us, Scrimgeour decided not to pursue any further argument and limped away, pointedly ignoring everyone else.
The moment Arthur let my dad go he strode over to us, demanding to know if we were all alright, worrying over Ron and Hermione also. "We're fine dad. Promise." I assured him as Arthur gave us the all clear and came back inside to ask what he'd wanted with us four.
"To give us what Dumbledore left us. They've only just released the contents of his will." We went back outside where all the items – save for Fawkes of course – were passed around to be inspected by all. Dad was rather impressed with Fawkes who deigned to fly over to his shoulder in order to meet him properly, nipping at his ear as Orion flew down with an indignant hoot and pointedly took up residence on my shoulder and glared at Fawkes as if to say that my shoulder was his spot.
"Oh come on now, don't you be getting all in a huff. You know you're my special little owl first and foremost." I scolded him before feeding him some treats as we all finally sat down to dinner. Orion stayed with me as if to ward off Fawkes from returning, and after the cake had been eaten I set some aside for those who hadn't been able to make it, as well as some for Tonks and Remus, figuring it as a good excuse to go see them and ask what had gotten Remus into such a twist. Once everyone else had gone off to bed, dad and I stayed up in order to discuss what Dumbledore could have meant by leaving the others what they did.
"There has to be a reason. Dumbledore never did anything for nothing. What do you think?"
"Beats me." Dad sighed as he scratched his bearded face whilst thinking deeply. "Dumbledore never mentioned anything to me when he was alive. His last words to me were 'take care of them, Sirius, brilliant as they are, they are still so young'. How I'm supposed to do that whilst Harry's insisting on going off on some secret mission without us, I have no idea. I've tried talking to him about it, but he won't reveal anything." I shifted slightly and dad looked at me quickly, though thankfully he smiled. "Don't worry, I'm fully aware that you're in on the plan, Mia."
"You're not mad?"
"Mad? Of course not. I understand that this is something that Harry needs to do, he told me that much at least, and if he can't open up to me about it, I'm glad that he feels he can trust you not only to help him, but keep his secret." His expression softened then as he reached out, cupping my face in order to brush his thumb gently against my cheek. "You two didn't get to grow up like James and I envisioned, but it makes me happy to see that in the end, you still got to know each other and are as thick as thieves. James even joked that one day you and Harry could even end up married. It was one of the few times I ever argued with him, because I was never going to let that happen." Laughing lightly, I cast my thoughts back to the memories I had of James and Lily, having found them again thanks to a very strong remembering potion.
Although only two years old when I had last seen them alive, I did have memories buried deep down in my subconscious. Lily always smiled at me kindly and dressed me up with bows in my hair and seemed to have a new dress for every time I visited with dad, whilst James would race around throwing me into the air with Lily screaming in terror behind him whilst I laughed, thinking it was a right old riot. All of these I had put into Harry's portable pensieve, and I could very well imagine he was sitting in his bed right now, watching and listening to them all one by one. "I never had any siblings growing up." I suddenly said, the thought then occurring to me. "But I know what it's like to have brothers and sisters. All the Weasleys are my family, as are Hermione and Harry. He's like a brother to me now, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep him safe." Lifting my head, I smiled softly at dad. "Looks like you and James got your wish after all. We did grow up to be siblings."
"He'd be happy to know that." I hoped so too. At least wherever James and Lily were now, if they were somehow watching over us all, they would know that Harry was well protected and greatly loved by so many people. He was an adult now, and although his path was more dangerous than ever, he'd never have to walk it alone.