The entrance to Avery's estate formed around him. Harry was passing over the threshold, a house elf guiding him. Harry's face was ashen, the crumpled wad of paper clutched tightly in his hand.

"This way Master Potter, Master Avery has been expecting you." The elf walked into the house before Harry even had a chance to get his bearings.

Trailing behind the elf, Harry scanned the home. It was modest for a member of the ruling class, utilitarian, no family portrait's graced the walls, merely some faded Victorian wallpaper.

Harry had expected to be led to a library or study, that was always where these meetings seemed to be, but the house elf led him down into the kitchen,

Avery sat at a prep table with two house elves on either side of him. He tutted. "My apprentice finally opens his summons. If this were a few decades ago, you would get a flogging for ignoring my missive for an entire day." Several quills were scratching away at their parchment around him, each penning a separate missive.

Harry clenched his fists and stood up straight in front of Avery. "I had other things I needed to attend to."

"Of course. Have a seat and tell me what was on your agenda."

"I had to deal with fallout from the coronation," Harry answered. He sat across from Avery, the late morning sun, striking the left side of his face. "Nott attempted to have me killed during the attack, and he used someone who was unlikely to be an extremist. We have been doing our best to deal with the fallout to that." Harry's jaw was clenched tight.

"Ah, yes. The late Mister Diggory. If I recall correctly, you lost your virginity to him." Avery took one of the letters that had finished writing and folded it into three equal sections, his hands moving precisely as he dragged his thumbnail against the crease to make a sharp edge. He put the parchment down and intertwined his fingers. "Ah, yes. The late Mister Diggory. If I recall correctly, you lost your virginity to him."

Harry lurched like he had been punched in the back of his head. "How the hell did you know that?"

"Eyes and ears everywhere, Mister Potter." Avery tapped his temple. "Knowledge is the greatest power there is. I do not have the brute strength, nor the magical acumen of some, but I know ever so much. Now, let's see what we can do as your first task as my apprentice. Dealing with Ulysses' mess. Do you have any plans for Diggory's demise?"

Pulling a stool from under the table, Harry perched on the edge of it. He pushed his hair out of his face. "We're not going to tie it into the Witch Weekly attackers. There may have been enough time to make the evidence like we did with the others, but I feel that it would open up potential holes in the narrative we assembled. Honestly, I have considered the truth to be the best option here. Nott imperiused him to try to kill me because he doesn't think a half-blood should be involved with royalty. There's more than enough history between him and my mother to tie into that. And since Nott is dead he can't refute it. His methodology will simply be that he imperiused the first person who was not a member of the Sacred 27 during the attack. There is nothing to be said about it happening earlier or that it was premeditated, merely a crime of opportunity during an attack."

Avery nodded. "I like it for the most part. I am hesitant to use Ulysses as the scapegoat as his association to myself and my partners would be inconvenient." He tapped his teeth with his fingernails. Tom hadn't seen him do such a thing since they were in Hogwarts. "It would also damage young Theo's reputation."

Harry let out a puff of air which blew up an errant strand of hair. "Let Theo actually work to build up his reputation. He's been coasting on his blood status since he was born and needs to become something useful."

"Oh? You think Theo has no use?" Avery asked. He closed his eyes and let his head fall to the side, a faux-smile on his lips.

"He has no pull. He knows his housemates and that is it. He's alienated three-quarters of the school by being a stuck-up prat," Harry answered, his nose in the air

"Hmmm." Avery was handed a cup of tea from a house elf. He took a long drink of the steaming liquid. "One could say you too have alienated your schoolmates during your last year at Hogwarts via your association with his highness, your fallout with Theo Nott, and the argument you had with the younger Weasleys after Hermione Granger's injury." He swirled the cup around. "It's a pity that Granger is irreparably damaged, as she would have become a useful asset as her career progressed."

Harry sat up ramrod straight at that. "Hermione wouldn't have worked with us," he whispered. She wouldn't have worked with them on Tom's official, on the books policy, the other stuff though, the real stuff.

Avery pursed his lips and set the cup down near the edge of the table. A house elf hurried over and moved it further in. "You do not need someone to be a member of your cause for you to cultivate them as an intelligence asset. You can still determine facts via what someone does not say. You can feed them false information, there is a bevy of options that you are seemingly unaware of. Being able to manipulate your opponents is just as, or more, important than having lackeys under your command. It's why for decades all I needed was Flint's wealth, and Nott's sheer bloody-mindedness while we prepared Britain for his majesty. Being a simple investor with many friends makes string pulling all the more easier. I almost feel that you have shoehorned yourself into a position that makes it clear that you are merely an asset to the king and you serve his interests exclusively. You are lacking the subtlety which first made me seek you as an apprentice."

Harry sat up and gripped the edge of the table. His knuckles went white. "Is it no longer of use to train me then?" If Avery dismissed him, he wouldn't be able to get the cup for Tom and the painting.

Avery chuckled. "I didn't say that." He snapped his fingers and a house elf put a leather dossier on the table in front of Harry. "Let's continue. The Sacred 27 lost the Shafiq family during the attack as well as Muriel Prewett, the last non-squib of that family line. The question now is does the Sacred 27 become the Sacred 25? Or do we add two new families in? What do you think?"

Harry flipped through the folder. Family trees, post mortem reports, their business licences, lists of their business partners, acquaintances and friends. There was even a page noting infidelities and the fruits born of them. Shafiq had been a busy man.

He closed the dossier. "Bastards are not entitled to anything including their fathers last name, and squibs would not even be able to enter Eglington Hall. Given the precedent set with the Gaunt line being removed and not replaced… The Sacred 27 should become the Sacred 25."

Avery nodded his head, a frown forming on his face. "The Gaunt precedent is unfortunate, but I am of the opinion that weakening the power of the nobility is not an option. We must ensure the right families stay where they deserve to be while less-deserving ones are filtered out. I would prefer to add more like-minded persons in order to keep a majority. The Weasley's have bred a veritable host of problematic children that are due to marry into pureblood families and affect the opinions of the lesser-minded members." He sighed. "Shafiq was not for the monarchy. He was on our side overall and it is a pity to lose the line. Prewett, while being a battleaxe in personality, would fall in line with her niece's, and therefore, Dumbledore's preferences."

Harry flipped through the pages again. "I can't think of anyone with a pure enough lineage to be allowed in. At least, not off the top of my head. This decision, to add more members, would it be something done in Conclave or would it be a ruling from Tom?"

Avery shrugged. "There's no precedent. If we asked the other members, it would be a mixed bag. Some would wish to keep the ancestry pure and avoid new lines, others would prefer if the nobility became a thing of the past. It is more logical to have his highness pass it as a royal decree."

Harry drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "I don't know if he would want to. Having the Wizengamot there to question his decisions is one thing, but to scorn the opportunity to remove another political body that can undermine his rule… it seems it would be a foolish decision for him to make, to risk it one day gaining even more power over him."

"There are already people with power over him. The ones who put him on the throne."

"You and Flint."

"Indeed." Avery smiled.

Harry licked his lips and touched the parchment peeking out from the folder. "I would make the Slytherin name one of the inductees. The downside, if that is the route chosen, is that the Smith family would also have a claim to be allowed in as they are supposedly descended from Helga Hufflepuff."

"They have no proof to back up that claim," Avery said matter-of-factly.

Harry leveled him with a glare the man was unable to see. "I went to school with Zacharias Smith. He claims that they are in possession of a cup that belonged to her, previously owned by Hepizabah Smith."

"That is not a concern," Avery said, waving a dismissive hand. "The Smith family are more in line with us than not. My choices would have been McLaggen, Smith, or the Broadmoors brought on board. I am fond of your thought of adding his majesty to Conclave, except one of the requirements for being a member, at least in my opinion, is that there is an unspoken social contract that one must produce heirs."

Blood rushed up to Harry's face, he looked down at the floor as his cheeks flared to life. "Understandable," he muttered.

"I believe you are correct in your assessment, though. He will not want to add to Conclave's power. Nevertheless, I appreciate your input. I have an assignment for you."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"You are quite proficient at your chosen occupation, but you choose to involve yourself where you could step aside and allow other people to do the work. You have discretion, but delegation is required. This is your first lesson." Avery paused and smiled benignly in his direction. It sent shivers up Harry's spine.

"Now, we are both aware Nott attempted to kill you during the coronation, and he paid the price for it. Unfortunately, because of my connection to Nott, his majesty is currently not taking any reports from me. This is unfortunate, as I have further information that can put another nail in their coffin." He passed Harry the parchment he had folded earlier.

Harry carefully unfolded the parchment. Just some information regarding a squib photographer who Witch Weekly used for illicit photography. It was a piece of actual, non-fabricated information. It would be a good addition to the downfall of Witch Weekly.

"You want me to bring this to him?"

Avery sighed and shook his head, as if he were disappointed in Harry. "Delegation, Harry. The lesson is delegation. I have delegated this to you, my apprentice, and you will pass it further down the chain to someone you know whose information won't be questioned and that it be passed on to the DMLE to deal with. Now, be on your way." Avery said, dismissing him.

##

James stood in front of the modest home of St. Mungo's healer Elias Taural. It was in the center of a muggle suburb outside of London, houses that had been built after the war. The paperwork said Elias had inherited from his muggle grandparents.

Elias was the last person on a very short list.

He knocked on the door and heard movement, as well as some quiet grumbling. Nine was a bit later than usual for people to receive guests, but James was on a mission, and he would drag people out of bed at three am if need be. The door opened, revealing a handsome man in his late forties. He looked James up and down, his dark eyes lingering on the auror badge pinned to the front of James' muggle suit.

He stepped back and swept a hand towards the interior of his home. "Come in."

James stepped through the door, and the man closed it behind him. "I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but I need to ask you some questions."

Taural nodded his head as he made his way into the kitchen. "I wondered if anyone would come." He put the kettle on the stove and pulled out a tea set without turning a light on. "I hope you like jasmine tea."

"You were expecting me?"

Taural nodded. The shadows of the room deepened his wrinkles, making him look older than his file said he was. "You're James Potter, right?"

James fought the urge to nod with the man. "I am. I need you to recall a patient who was admitted to St. Mungos several months ago."

The much taller man made his way around the counter and sat down at a small table overlooking a rose garden in his backyard. "There is such a thing as patient confidentiality."

"I need to know about Hermione Granger. You were one of her healers when she was admitted for her head injury," James said, sitting across from the man. The only thing illuminating them was lamp light from the other side of his neighbour's house.

"What about it?"

"Of the three who looked after Hermione on her first day, you're the only one I can find," said James. He leaned back and set his list on the table. In the pale lamplight, the names of healer Greene and healer Fawcett above his own name stood out with a line struck through each of them.

"Healer Greene went on a sabbatical with his wife in April and hasn't been heard from since. Healer Fawcett transferred to a hospital in America that does not exist. Why are you still here?"

Taural continued to look out at the roses as they swayed in the night breeze. "Did your research tell you that I went to Durmstrang?"

James shook his head. "No, nor do I see why it matters."

Taural chuckled. "How much research did you do on me? Or am I just a name and an address?"

"All I need to know is that you were working at St. Mungos when Hermione Granger was admitted."

"Pity, you should have looked further into me." He stood up and pulled the kettle off the stove just as it started to scream. "Every person has a universe inside of them, there is our outward appearance, what we show to others and allow them to know. I wonder, is the real you what you think internally, or what you show to the world outside?" He placed some tea into the tea pot. "Are you only real based on how others perceive you? No one can know a person's thoughts and true nature, even with magic such as legilimency." He poured the boiling water over it.

Raising a brow, James watched Taural as he stood there, looking down at him. The heavy kettle swung slightly in his grip. It looked to be a good weight to brain James, if Taural was so inclined. "If that's the case, I doubt I would have discovered your unfathomable depths during my research. What does this have to do with my question?"

"I'm curious about your depths. Are you the type of person who would arrest a family member if they did something grossly illegal? Or would you protect them from their punishment?"

James sat up straighter and clenched his jaw. "I've asked myself that many times."

"Only willing to send strangers to Azkaban?"

"I didn't say that."

"It's fine. I can't think of anyone in the Ministry who would." Taural turned on his heel and returned the kettle to the stove, setting it lightly on one of the other burners before returning to the table.

The silent judgement coming off the man was almost suffocating. No one could trust him at this point. Anyone on Harry's side considered him a ministry lackey to keep information from, and anyone else thought of him as Harry's father, the man who would protect his son from retribution. "I don't know if you have any children, but when you have a child and they do something heinous… you wonder what it says about yourself. Where did I go wrong? Could I have done anything different? Is it my fault?"

Taural was quiet for a moment. "Last year, a bear got into the girls' dormitory at Durmstrang, and one of the girls was bitten severely. The investigation turned up that it was Saorise's fault because she didn't bolt the doors shut when it was her turn on the duty list. The difference between our children is that my daughter didn't do it maliciously."

He wasn't wrong. You don't cast an obliviate on accident. James ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn't get a read on Taural; he could feel the man judging him for his failure as a father and, probably, as a human being, but he was unable to determine if the man would give him any information.

"There are witches and wizards out there who say Durmstrang is the best education one can get in Europe. My mother certainly thought so," Taural said, pulling James from his sullen silence that had dragged on for an uncomfortably long time.

"Durmstrang also has a bad reputation for what they teach and their opinions on people of certain stature," James muttered, the wind had been taken out of his sails.

Taural's teeth glinted when he smiled at James. "Yes, Durmstrang does not abide muggleborns."

James leaned back in the chair. "I believe I'm starting to get an idea of why you're still in London instead of on "sabbatical" somewhere." The fact that he went to Durmstrang should have been enough to tip him off.

Releasing a chuckle, Taural poured them each a cup of tea. "And you would be wrong. But tell me your theory. Please." h=eH dropped a cube of sugar into his cup and took a drink, his eyes firmly on James the entire time.

"We both know head trauma can cause damage that magic cannot fix, but Hermione's injury shouldn't have been greater than a concussion. Greene and Fawcett tried to report it to the administration and were promptly punished for it," James responded, his voice in a dead monotone. He didn't care if he was wrong. This was a waste of time.

Taural gave a conceding nod of his head. "A fall like that can cause that type of major trauma, but continue."

"You saw a muggleborn girl who supposedly fell down the stairs during an argument with one of Slytherin's followers and decided to keep quiet. Figured no one would care enough to look into it. Your co-workers, on the other hand, tried to do the right thing."

"Sometimes doing the right thing only causes more problems." Taural said. He levelled James with a look that went on for far longer than James was comfortable with. "We all took one look at the girl and saw that her injury was far more likely to be from an overpowered memory charm. You are correct in your assumption. Fawcett reported it to the head of the Janus Thickey ward, Greene went to the auror department a few weeks after Fawcett was transferred. Didn't see him after that. His locker was cleaned out, and all his patients were mine."

James levelled him with cold glare. "So you're fine with your coworkers vanishing and a girl being brain damaged."

"I never said that. Have some tea."

James pushed the cup across the table towards Taural. "I'd rather not. You said that all three of you agreed that it was likely memory charm damage. If that's all I can get from you, this visit will have been worth it." James stood up. "Thank you for your time."

"Mister Potter, sit down," Taural commanded. "The reason I am still in Britain and not "lost" somewhere out in the world, is because I have enough sense to know when to keep my mouth shut. It's one of the simple facts that I learned from being a muggleborn at Durmstrang."

James immediately sat back down. "They don't accept muggleborns there. What are you talking about?"

"Once my mother learned about what I was, she demanded I have the absolute best education available. She sold our house, her jewelry, her silver, anything she could bare to part with and moved in with my grandparents to pay the Taural family to say their dead son was my father. My mother gave me a fake pedigree and sent me to Scandanvia at the tender age of eleven. I had known I was a wizard for barely three months before I was forced into one of the most vicious places for people like me."

He pushed James' cup of tea back his way. "It was at Durmstrang where I learned to keep silent and say nothing unless specifically asked. Volunteering information? That's sure to get you in more trouble. They will see you as a snitch, or a fool who wastes opportunities. Fawcett and Greene went and told the wrong people of their own volition. I've been waiting for someone to come to me. I've been waiting for you."

James let out a shaky, almost giddy, chuckle, picked up his cup and drained it. "I see what you mean now... Hidden depths. Where do your morals lie then?"

"With my patients. I see that poor, confused girl in that room and pray she will recover. All I can hope for right now is that her attacker sees justice." He hit James with a piercing look that let him know he was fully aware it was his son. "Will he?"

James clenched his jaw and nodded. "I agree. Her attacker and the one who ordered it done."

Taural smiled. "Can't stand the bloody monarchy."

"You'll go on record?"

Taural nodded.