Chapter 9
After the Trials

Still Friday, 8th November, dinnertime
Still in the Great Hall

Sirius Black looked over at frightened Draco, then looked at Harry. Sirius sighed as he again looked at the blond boy. "Draco," Sirius said solemnly, "your mother brings bad news. Which maybe I can fix, a bit."

"Oi!" Ron suddenly yelled. "Scabbers, bloody hell!"

Scabbers scrambled out of Ron's pocket, landing on the redhead's mashed potatoes. The rat ran off the plate, ran to the edge of the table and jumped off.

Scabbers squeaked; to Harry, the rat sounded as though it were in pain. For two seconds, Scabbers was in the same place on the floor, unmoving. Is he dead? Harry wondered.

Then the rat ran towards the wall. At the wall, Scabbers turned to move toward the Entrance Hall doors. The rat ran with a speed that surprised Harry, all the while with the wall brushing against one side of the rat's body.

"Bugger!" Sirius exclaimed. "It's Peter!"

Harry wondered, Who's Peter?

Sirius pulled his wand out from somewhere on his forearm, and tried to shoot a silent red spell at the fast rat. Sirius missed.

Neither Amelia Bones nor Draco's mother missed.

"Homorphus animagi," Amelia incanted, hitting the unmoving rat with a spell. The rat turned into an unconscious man.

Harry heard gasps from all over the Great Hall.

Hermione snarled, "Your rat is a man, Ronald. Did you know?"

"Bloody hell, no!"

Draco's mother said calmly to Sirius, "Is this the man you supposedly murdered ten years ago? Corpses don't breathe."

Sirius grinned. "Yes, this is Peter Pettigrew. Nine-fingered Peter Pettigrew. It occurs to me that, since I've already been tried for his murder, it's legal for me to kill him for real."

The blond woman said, "You do that—if you want to spend your entire relationship with Amelia sleeping on her sofa."

Amelia had been talking to her badge. Now she looked up and announced, "I've summoned Aurors. I ordered them to put Pettigrew in the animagus-suppression holding cell. I'll wait for them to come."

Sirius, Amelia and the blond woman did not move away from the doors, nor did they put away their wands, till Aurors had entered the Great Hall and had hauled-off Peter Pettigrew.

Then Sirius looked at the women with him. He asked, "Shall we do what we came here to do?"

Meanwhile, in Azkaban Wizard Prison

Albus, in his prison cell in Azkaban, still was trying to figure out How did I wind up here? He still had not figured out an answer to this question.

Before his trial earlier today, Albus had made a plan. He was a Pureblood, so he was entitled to refuse Veritaserum when he was questioned. So the first part of Albus's plan had been to refuse the truth potion, giving some grand excuse. Then, once the questioning started (with Albus not potioned by Veritaserum), Albus would lie, when he could not be caught in a lie; he would exaggerate at times and would understate the truth at other times; he would tell half-truths; he would evade; and he would mislead. By the time that the Acting Chief Warlock called for the vote on Albus's guilt or innocence, Albus would have convinced the entire courtroom that yes, he technically had broken a law, but Albus Dumbledore was the only person in Wizarding Britain who was protecting the average witch or wizard from evil Lord Voldemort.

Anyway, this had been the plan, before the trial. But during the trial? Saul had dropped some object in Albus's lap just after Albus had been captured by the chains-chair. Whatever the object was, it was not important enough for Albus to remember clearly.

What was more important was that when Saul started asking questions to Albus, it seemed natural to answer with the simple truth, and to answer completely; and it never occurred to Albus to lie or to tell only part of the truth.

After a time, Saul took the absolutely-unimportant object away, then Acting Chief Warlock Greengrass called for the vote. Albus suddenly was aware that everyone in the courtroom was glaring at him—which obviously meant that everyone had felt an attack of indigestion at the same time. There could be no other explanation—after all, Albus had been beloved by Wizarding Britain for the past fifty years.

But Albus had been wrong about the cause of everyone's glares. The Wizengamot had convicted him! What's more, the seat-holders not only had given Albus the maximum sentence for his crime, which was five years in Azkaban, but the Wizengamot had given him the worst form of this sentence: maximum security. Which was a polite way of saying: lots and lots of Dementors close by.

Now in his cell, Albus already had relived the death of his sister Ariana, which was a truly awful experience—but the Dementors had caught Albus during a moment of inattention. From this moment on, Albus resolved, he would put his high skill at Occlumency to the task of keeping his mind calm, and he would show the Dementors who was the master.

But not everything about Albus's prison sentence was unbearable. When Albus would be released in five years, on 8th November 1996, Harry would still be a student at Hogwarts—and much more importantly, Harry would be nine months away from becoming an adult under Wizarding Britain law. Albus, after his release, would have nine months to again sink his hooks into Harry before the boy could legally disobey the old wizard.

This was Albus's new plan: After 1 826 days of thwarting Dementors, Albus would be out of Azkaban, back at Hogwarts and back in Harry's life.

Back in the Great Hall

Sirius looked at Amelia and at Draco's mother. He asked, "Shall we do what we came here to do?"

Harry heard Amelia say cheerfully, "Let me take care of business first, then you two can take care of the serious stuff."

Amelia led Sirius to the firsties-end of the Hufflepuff table. Smiling Susan Bones climbed over her bench and stood to face the adults. Amelia and Sirius were wearing happy smiles; Draco's mother was hanging back whilst wearing a plastic smile.

Amelia made introductions, too lowly for Harry to hear. As Sirius bowed, Susan curtseyed, then she put her hand out, palm down. Sirius bent down and kissed her hand, as solemnly as if one of them were being knighted.

At the Gryffindor table, Hermione commented, "I'm surprised she isn't giggling. She's eleven years old and he's kissing her hand."

"Hermione," Neville said seriously, "if she giggled now, he could kill her."

"What?"

"You see an eleven-year-old girl; I see Heiress Bones, who is being introduced to the Head of House Black. If she giggled, he could take it as an insult, and kill her."

Hermione choked. "In front of hundreds of children? With Susan's aunt, who is also the Director of the DMLE, standing three feet away?"

"Yes, Hermione. If he said, 'The Heiress Bones has given me insult,' he then could kill her and it would be legal."

"Oh my," Hermione said lowly.

Now the three adults were walking towards the firsties' part of the Gryffindor table. Amelia was pointing out Harry to the other two.

The three adults stopped close to the table. Amelia gestured for Harry to stand (which was awkward for him to do when sitting on a several-hundred-feet-long bench).

Amelia then said, "Lord Sirius Black, Miss Narcissa Black, this is Lord Black's godson, and the orphaned son of James and Lily Potter, Harry Potter, who is Heir Potter. He's also known as 'the Boy Who Lived,' but he hates this title. Heir Potter, this is your godfather, and one of your father's closest friends, Sirius Black, who is Head of House Black. Heir Potter, this woman with me is Miss Narcissa Black, the mother of Draco Malfoy."

Harry bowed to his godfather. Harry said, "I feel like I should be calling you ... Pafoo?"

Sirius laughed in delight. "The name was 'Padfoot," but when you were one year old, you couldn't quite say it."

Up the Gryffindor table, twin male voices said, "Padfoot?"

Sirius looked at the Weasley twins. "You've heard of me?"

One of the twins, grinning, said, "We have something you made—"

"—and we've managed much mischief with it," said the other twin.

Harry said to Sirius, "Those are Fred and George Weasley. Don't ask me which is which. They're the pranksters of the school."

Sirius grinned maniacally. "Delightful! Owl me, you two. Let's give Minnie fits."

"Yes!" the twins said, as they both fist-pumped.

(At the High Table, Headmistress McGonagall facepalmed.)

Harry noticed that Draco's mother Narcissa Black was looking at him strangely.

Neville said, "Erm, Harry? You need to walk up to Lady M—to Miss Black and to kiss her hand."

Harry, feeling like the eyes of everyone in the school were on him, walked round the end of the table and stood in front of the blond woman.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Black," Harry said, then bent to kiss the woman's held-out hand. Harry straightened, then walked back to his part of the bench.

"Ma'am?" Neville said nervously, looking at Draco's mother. "Why did Regent Bones introduce you as 'Miss Narcissa Black' instead of as 'Lady Narcissa Malfoy'?"

Narcissa, Draco's mother, looked uncomfortable as she answered, "This is part of what we came here to discuss with Draco."

Then she looked at Sirius and said, "Lord Black, we really need to have soon, the discussion with Draco that we came for."

Sirius said, "We will, we will, but first I want to meet Harry's friends."

Amelia laughed. "Siri, am I right that you're procrastinating at talking with Draco?"

Sirius said, with exaggerated innocence, "I'm just curious about the young lady who is sitting next to Harry and who is marked as a House Potter protectée. I'm sure she has an interesting story."

Harry said, "If you lot need to rush off, let me make quick introductions. First is Neville Longbottom, who is—Neville, are you a 'Scion Longbottom' or an 'Heir Longbottom'?"

Neville stood up, then bowed to Sirius Black. "Lord Black, I am Neville Longbottom, who is Heir Longbottom."

Sirius, choked up, replied, "Heir Longbottom, I knew your parents, Frank and Alice. They were good people."

Neville looked stunned.

Harry then introduced Lavender and Parvati; "Parvati Patil has a twin sister, Padma, who is sitting at the Ravenclaw table."

Each of the two introduced girls stood and curtsied to Sirius Black as he bowed to them. Sirius walked over to where each girl was standing and kissed her hand; neither girl giggled.

Then Harry introduced his protectée, Hermione Granger, "who is Muggle-born, like my mum, and a genius, like my mum. When a twelve-foot troll attacked Lavender, Parvati and Hermione, Hermione figured out how they could cast a combined Wingardium leviosa to knock out the troll with its own club."

As Hermione stood and curtsied, Parvati said to Sirius, "Yes, we three witches knocked out the troll, but Harry killed it. Be proud of your godson, Lord Black—he's a true Gryffindor."

As Sirius kissed the hand of giggle-less Hermione, Narcissa said to Harry, in a tone of voice that Harry could not read, "I'm curious how a first-year student can kill a troll, when trolls are immune to most forms of magic."

"That's because I didn't use magic," Harry said. Briefly he told the tale, ending with "...then when the troll's face hit the floor, my wand got shoved farther up its nose, and this killed it."

Harry was surprised to hear applause, not only from the Gryffindor table, but also from the Ravenclaws.

Harry ended the story with "My wand wound up covered with troll bogies. Professor Snape had to clean them off."

Harry heard Eww from two tables.

Narcissa said, "Heir Potter, you were a true Gryffindor that day. Please believe me, this is one of the few times I use the word as a compliment."

Harry, who was blushing from the unexpected and sincere compliment, barely noticed when mail-owls arrived, carrying letters and copies of the Daily Prophet. Harry could not help but notice that one owl was carrying a black envelope. What does a black envelope mean? Harry wondered.

The black-envelope owl flew straight to the first-years part of the Slytherin table. Seconds later, a Slytherin firstie screamed "NOOOO!"

Narcissa immediately ran off for the Slytherin table. Sirius gave Harry an apologetic smile, said to Harry's friends, "Nice to meet you," then he hurried after Narcissa.

Amelia called out after Sirius and Narcissa, "I'll be sitting with Susan, if either of you need me." Then she said, "Good to see you again, Heir Potter, Miss Granger," before she walked away from the Gryffindor table.

A minute later, amongst the first-year Slytherins

Lord Black was sitting amongst the green-robed children, but was staying silent. These green-robed children all were looking at Narcissa—presumably because Narcissa was Draco's mother, but also because Narcissa was a former Slytherin, unlike Lord Black.

"Miss Black, please explain this story, 'Lucius Malfoy Gets Veil for Murders,' " a child-witch said as she pointed to the Daily Prophet headline. Narcissa saw that the black-haired girl had Opal Bulstrode's beauty; which meant that the intelligence in her blue eyes came from Cyrus Greengrass.

Narcissa replied, "One thing this means is that, because of a law that is older than the Treaty of Separation, House M—House Mm—my late husband's ancestral House is dissolved. Draco and I would be No-Names if not for Lord Black here."

Draco asked, "Mother, why can't you say Mmm?—Mmm!" The blond boy's eyes widened in panic as he was unable to speak his own surname.

" 'Malfoy,' " the blue-eyed beauty said experimentally. "I can say it, but you two can't. How odd."

Lord Black said, "Because your name isn't Malfoy, Miss...?"

The girl stood. "Lord Black, I am Daphne Greengrass, who is Heiress Greengrass." She curtsied as Sirius bowed, then he kissed her hand.

As Heiress Greengrass sat again, she said to Narcissa, "Please explain how House Malfoy went poof today. I've never heard of such a thing."

Narcissa sighed. "Lucius was put on trial today for basically acting like a pompous arse in the Department of Mysteries."

Narcissa saw Draco stiffen, but he said nothing.

Narcissa continued, "My husband tried to enter a DOM forbidden area—a minor crime that would've meant five years in Azkaban at most."

Draco said, "Then how—?"

"At trial, Lucius was questioned but, somehow because he was accused of wronging the Department of Mysteries, they could question Lucius with some kind of DOM truth-magic instead of Veritaserum," which Lucius could have refused. "Because of the truth-magic, Lucius admitted to doing whatever he was arrested for, but also admitted to murdering forty-eight Muggles and fifteen magicals, and taking the Dark Mark willingly but bribing Minister Fudge to pardon him."

Heiress Greengrass nodded, as though she had expected this news.

Narcissa continued, "Lucius was found guilty of murdering magicals, amongst other crimes, and was tossed through the Veil. It turns out, there is a British law that was made before 1642, and it says that if the head of an aristocratic House in Britain is executed for either treason against the Crown or for murder, the House is dissolved."

"Why?" asked a girl who looked like a young, stocky and tall version of Opal Bulstrode.

Narcissa replied, "Our society normally figures Lucius deserves the land and the title because long ago, Lucius's ancestor showed that he was a superior person, and this makes Lucius superior too. But if Lucius has committed murder or treason, now he shows he's not superior at all. Nor, so the law figures, should Draco get the title or land either, because maybe the son of a murderer or traitor is a murderer or traitor too. Therefore, no more House MF. Poof."

"Bugger-all," said Draco. "Bollocks. Shit. This is all Potter's fault, somehow."

"Dragon, your public speech is unseemly," Narcissa rebuked. "Potter wasn't in the DOM, pointing his wand at your father and making your father try to rescue the Dark Lord. Potter didn't make your father murder both magical people and nonmagical people. Potter didn't make your father take the Dark Mark. Instead, your father figured that he could commit awful crimes and the Wizengamot would never find out, or he could talk his way out of punishment. Well, he was wrong, and so he, and we, pay the price today."

"What is the price we pay, Mother?" Draco asked quietly.

"I'm now locked out of the manor's wards; I suspect you're locked out too. According to the goblins, the Ministry owns all property of House MF now, so you and I will need to be escorted by a Ministry employee in order to re-enter the manor. Under that old British law, you and I are entitled to take our personal possessions and our clothes, and a thousand galleons each from the Malfoy family vault. The Ministry gets everything else, including the peacocks."

Lord Black said, "The Black dowry that was paid to House Malfoy—the Ministry gets it too." He shrugged. "It's a good thing that Corny no longer is Minister—the entire dowry would be in Fudge's vault within a week."

Narcissa said to Draco, "You're too young to have learnt any family magic. But when your father's House was dissolved, all that magic that I'd learnt, I forgot in an instant."

Heiress Greengrass said, "What about debts held by House Malfoy? Lord Goyle and Lord Crabbe both owe money to House Malfoy."

"They did," Narcissa replied. "But according to the goblins, all debtors now are free and clear."

Vincent Crabbe turned to Draco and said, "Hear that? I ain't your bodyguard no more. When you go up against Potter and the Muggle-born, you're on your own."

Gregory Goyle said to Draco, "I ain't your bodyguard no more neither. And a few years from now, when Galina is a firstie, if you look at her cross-eyed, I'll hex you till your arms fall off." Gregory lowered his voice, but Narcissa still heard it: "I know what your pa intended for my sister when she came to Hogwarts. I'm glad he's dead."

Draco asked his mother, "So you and I are No-Names now? With lower status than mudbloods?"

Lord Black said irritably, "Yes, blond boy, at the moment you have lower status than all Muggle-borns. In which case, it is stupid of you to refer to them with an insulting term. Miss Hermione Granger has no blood-connexion to any old magical house, just like you now, but she isn't related to a disgrace to the magical community, which is why she now outranks you socially."

Draco sneered, "My father was a great wizard. Unlike you."

"Lose the attitude, boy. Your father wasn't a great wizard, he was a rabid dog with a bloodstained wand who hid his face behind a mask whilst he kissed Lord Voldemort's ... toe."

Lord Black took a deep breath, but still looked angry. He said to Narcissa, "Maybe I should hold off adopting Draco for a few months. Perhaps some time being addressed as 'No-Name' and treated as a No-Name will teach the brat some humility."

Draco asked, "You want to adopt me? This means I'd become Heir Black?"

"No. Right now, my godson Harry Potter is Heir Black, and my will has stated this since 1981."

"Shit," Draco muttered.

Ten minutes later

Sirius was feeling guilt-ridden. Not about talking to Draco—this was Black Head of House business, and only Sirius could do this.

No, Sirius had walked into the Great Hall fully intending to talk to Harry before he talked to Draco, "Lord Black duty" be damned. But nooo, ten seconds inside the door, Sirius got caught up with drama concerning Pettigrew. Once again it was Pettigrew, not Harry, that had caught Sirius's attention. Then Draco learnt that his House had been dissolved, so Sirius had to leave Harry to go do his "Lord Black duty" immediately with Draco. Shit, so far this evening, Sirius had spent not much more time talking to Harry than Sirius had spent talking to Susan Bones. Sirius felt like a shit godfather.

Now Sirius left Narcissa at the Slytherin table, and left Amelia at the Hufflepuff table, to walk to the Gryffindor table for the second time this evening. Sirius sat down near Harry, then Sirius talked to Harry and to his friends.

Sirius felt a kinship with the Weasley twins—it would have been easy to spend the evening talking only to them. But the last time that Sirius had done the easy thing instead of the right-for-Harry thing, it had cost Sirius ten years of his life.

So Sirius made himself barely speak to the Weasley twins whilst Sirius got to know James' and Lily's son.

The first thing Sirius learnt was that whilst James was confident and boisterous, Harry was neither of these things.

The second thing about Harry that Sirius learnt was that, despite the boy having no memories of having flown on a broom as a toddler, Harry loved broom-flying, and was on the House Quidditch team as Seeker, despite being a first-year.

The third thing that Sirius learnt was that Hermione was every bit as brainy as Lily, but unlike Harry's mother, Hermione did not need five and a half years to decide that the bespectacled boy near her was worth her time.

The fourth, fifth, sixth, and ninety-ninth thing that Sirius learnt about his godson was that Harry was famous, but he hated being famous.

Later, at the end of dinner
Still in the Great Hall

Harry and friends said goodbye to Sirius. A minute later, Harry & Company were headed for the exit doors and were passing in front of the High Table, near where Hagrid was sitting.

Hagrid suddenly stood. "Harry, 'salright if I talk to ya?"

Hagrid looked ashamed.

All the Hogwarts adults who ate at the High Table, including Hagrid, sat on a dais that raised them above the students. And Hagrid was a half-giant. So now, for Harry to look at standing-Hagrid's face, Harry had to look up, and up, and up. Some of the other Gryffindor firsties hissed in fear, but Harry thought, Hagrid is my friend.

"Here I am," Harry said. "What's on your mind?"

Hagrid closed his copy of the Daily Prophet, folded the newspaper, and put it on the table. Then he squared his large shoulders.

Looking at Harry, Hagrid said, "Back fifty years ago, I got meself expelled"—Hermione gasped—"fer sumpin' I din't do, and got me wand snapped. But Dumbledore—he was only the Deputy Headmaster then—got me a job here at the castle, 'n' I've been here ever since."

Harry did not know what to say to this. So he spoke a neutral reply: "This was a kind thing for Dumbledore to do."

"I believed Dumbledore hung the moon, y'know? So whenever he asked me to do sumpin', I did it, never said no. Because it was Dumbledore asking me to do things. I took ya from Sirius Black's arms 'cause Dumbledore told me to. I brung ya to yer mum's Muggle sister's house 'cause Dumbledore told me to. Three months ago, Dumbledore asked me to bring the Boy who Lived to Diagon Alley. That was a right brilliant day for me."

Harry said, "It was for me too. Especially after you gifted me with my snowy owl, Hedwig."

"But it shouldna been me who brung ya, it shoulda been one of the Heads of House—Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout and that lot. There be lots of things that they woulda told ya, because even though yer not a Muggle-born, ya was raised like one, right? But I din't think of that, because I knew yer parents and they were magical. Anyway, Harry, turns out that not only is I stupid, but Dumbledore planned on me being stupid round ya. I not only din't tell ya the things that I bet Miss Granger got told, I din't even tell ya how to get on Platform 9¾. Dumbledore wanted ya to come to Hogwarts not knowin' nuthin', and he used me to help make ya this way, and I am so sorry, Harry!"

Harry ran onto the dais, ran round the end of the High Table, ran up to Hagrid and gave Hagrid a hug. Harry did this even though he did not like anyone but Hermione touching him.

Snape sneered as Harry hugged Hagrid, but Harry ignored this.

Meanwhile in Azkaban Prison

A sneering Auror, one of the prison's human guards, shoved a Daily Prophet through the bars of Albus's cell. "Here you go, 'Leader of the Light,' a free copy of the newspaper for you to read. Since you no longer can afford to buy a copy."

Albus at first could not figure out what the Auror meant. The lead story in the newspaper was about Lucius Malfoy being executed for multiple murders—alas, before he could be redeemed.

On page 2, Albus's testimony was given, in full. Oddly, Albus had not been even slightly alarmed when he had spoken in court, but he was alarmed now—because he himself had spoken his most hoarded secrets!

But after this news story, the Daily Prophet printed a related news story. The goblins had issued a press release after Albus's trial and conviction—

"When Harry James Potter became orphaned in 1981, Albus Percival Dumbledore suppressed the child's parents' wills, then Dumbledore persuaded the Wizengamot to declare him to be young Potter's magical guardian. This gave Dumbledore access to young Potter's trust vault. Over a ten-year period, Dumbledore stole G499 990 from this trust vault, with young Potter unsuspecting.

"Today this money has been recovered from Dumbledore's vaults and has been transferred to Harry Potter's family vault. Also taken from Dumbledore's vaults: a penalty amount of G99 998, which has been split equally between the Potter family vault and Gringotts."

Dumbledore read this and scowled. So much for my easy retirement!

Hours later
In the Gryffindor first-year boys' dormitory, at bedtime

Harry discovered on his nightstand, a note, a strange-looking wand that had bumps on it and a silvery cloak.

When Harry picked up the wand, he felt a rush of magical power, the magical equivalent of grabbing a live wire. At the same time, knowledge and memories hit his brain: Harry saw Albus Dumbledore cast mind-magic spells on every professor at Hogwarts, on Vernon and Petunia Dursley, and on six-year-old Harry himself.

These mind-movies made Harry angry. If Dumbledore had been standing in front of Harry right then, Harry would have hexed the bearded old meddler painfully—and now, thanks to the bumpy wand (the "Elder Wand," Harry now knew to call it), Harry knew how to cast painful hexes.

Harry picked up the note that had been left for him—

"Albus Dumbledore looted this special wand from its owner. Dumbledore tricked your father into giving up this Invisibility Cloak, which is a Potter heirloom. This Cloak, unlike all others of its kind, is centuries old; and cannot be tracked, detected or summoned unless foreign threads are sewn into it. We gift this Wand to you and return your family-heirloom Cloak to you. (signed) the three Fates."

Harry stored both the Elder Wand and the Cloak in his trunk, then went to bed. He was tired; it had been an emotional day, meeting his freed godfather.

Meanwhile, in the DOM in Saul Croaker's office

On the desk of the Director of the Department of Mysteries, appeared an unfolded note—

"Dear Saul, remember the Elder Wand in Misc Exp Room 23, which you were hoping to reverse-engineer? It would be apocalyptic for the magical world if you succeeded at duplicating the Elder Wand, so we stole the Wand before you barely got started at examining it. We gave the Wand to a mortal wizard whom we trust and you trust. Saul Rowenus Croaker, don't go looking for the Elder Wand or try to craft a second Elder Wand, lest you anger us. (signed) the three Fates."

Hours later, in Azkaban prison
During Dumbledore's first night in Azkaban

It was nearly impossible to sleep with Dementors so close, but eventually exhausted Albus slept.

He dreamt. He was in a room in which a young woman of only eighteen or nineteen years old sat on a stool. With her left hand, she took wool from the distaff that she held in place with her left arm, and fed the wool to the spindle that dangled from her right hand. The spindle was spun clockwise by her right hand when necessary, and she alternated between twisting the wool into grey thread and gathering the grey thread onto the shaft of the spindle, by using or avoiding a hook at the top of the spindle. When the current spindle became full of grey thread, the young woman set this spindle aside and picked up an empty spindle; when the distaff became empty of wool, suddenly the distaff became full and fluffy again.

A middle-aged woman took the end of the thread that was on a spindle and touched the eye of a needle to the end of the thread; instantly the thread was sticking-charmed to the end of the needle. Then the middle-aged woman walked over to a gigantic tapestry that contained threads of every colour imaginable. The middle-aged woman moved the needle over and under the threads of the tapestry; behind the needle, the grey thread was pulled along.

A crone, who held scissors, watched the weaver-woman work. At some point, the old woman said to the middle-aged woman, "Stop now." The old woman, by touching the needle with her free hand, unstuck the head of the thread from the rear of the needle, so that the weaver-woman could reuse the needle. Then the crone cut the thread where it entered the tapestry. Next, the crone touched the tiny part of the grey thread that stuck out of the tapestry. The entire grey thread that was the newest part of the tapestry, now turned smoky orange. Albus noticed that this exact colour of orange appeared nowhere else in the gigantic tapestry.

What else was strange for Albus: the woman-child spinner, the middle-aged weaver, and the crone thread-cutter, all were the same black-haired woman except for age.

"Daughters," said the crone, "we have a guest: Albus Dumbledore, who has hubris enough to herd a prophecy."

The young woman turned round on her stool to face Albus, whilst she still spun thread, two-handed. "Do you know why you were chosen to hear the prophecy, mortal wizard? To smooth the way for the Chosen One. To organise the world's best tuition and the world's best training for him, so that when he faced the Dark Lord, the Chosen One's victory would be absurdly easy. Nobody alive could have prepared the Chosen One better than you."

Now it was the middle-aged weaver-woman who spoke; she continued her needle-work, even as she spoke over her shoulder: "Had you done these things, your reward would have been great."

The crone gestured with her free hand, and a table appeared in front of Albus. On the table was a copy of Hogwarts: A History, but Albus did not recognise the cover. He realised: I'm seeing a future edition.

The book on the table opened itself, then an invisible hand flipped pages. Soon the book lay open to a two-page article, "Albus Dumbledore: The Greatest Headmaster after the Founders?"

In a corner of the left-hand page was a photograph of a white-marble tomb, looking just like how Albus always had imagined his tomb to look. In the photograph, the Black lake was nearby in the background. On the top of the tomb was written, in gold letters—

Albus PWB Dumbledore

Defeater of the Dark Lord Grindelwald

Mentor to Harry Potter, Defeater of the Dark Lord Voldemort

.

The crone said, "Had you followed the prophecy as it was meant, then hundreds of years from now, 'Albus' still would be a popular name given to newborn wizards."

Albus (the here-and-now version) smiled.

The crone shook her head. "But you haven't used your foreknowledge from the prophecy to guide Harry Potter to great deeds, have you? Instead, you've undermined the Chosen One at every turn, beginning in the minutes after his parents' deaths, so that he'd fail, he'd die, and you would defeat the Dark Lord and be given even more fame and glory. Ah, but your undermining all was done in such a way that the letter of the prophecy would be fulfilled. Aren't you clever."

Albus said, "But Harry must die. Tom has made horcruxes, one of which is in Harry's scar. Until all the horcruxes are destroyed, Tom cannot be vanquished."

The young spinner laughed. "Today the horcrux in the scar is dead, whilst Harry is quite alive. But you didn't even try to solve this particular problem, did you? Because if Harry Potter vanquished the Dark Lord without any sort of 'noble sacrifice,' you might become a has-been, right? Anathema!"

Albus said, "I've heard nothing about Harry's horcrux being removed, or that such a thing is possible. How was this done? Is all of the horcrux truly removed?"

The middle-aged weaver-woman replied, "Mortal wizard, you don't deserve to know how the horcrux was removed, so we won't tell you how. Just as we know the contents of Hermione Granger's prophecy, but we refuse to tell you this as well—beyond that the prophecy predicted the futures if Hermione Granger married either of two men."

Albus was puzzled. "Why would whom Miss Granger marries, be the subject of a prophecy?" Then his eyes widened as an answer occurred to him. "The prophecy talks about Miss Granger marrying Harry? I refuse to accept this! Harry, if he outlives Tom, must marry a Pureblood girl from a Light family. Harry is too important to Wizarding Britain to indulge himself with a witch who will birth him children who are three-fourths Muggle-born. As soon as I am out of prison, I shall guide Harry in the right direction—luckily, I will still have nine months before Harry turns seventeen."

The young-woman spinner laughed at him. "Don't you know that no prophecy can be thwarted? But fine, suppose you could persuade Harry Potter to marry Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Luna Lovegood, Padma Patil, Parvati Patil or some other Light witch. What about Hermione Granger, whom should she marry?"

"Simple, Mr Ronald Weasley. He needs a wife like Miss Granger, especially as few witches who are not Muggle-borns would marry him. Slip her a potion or two, and she will even enjoy such a life."

All three women laughed scornfully at Albus then; he could not figure out why.

Then the crone said, "You presume a lot, don't you? 'As soon as I am out of prison, I shall guide Harry in the right direction.' Remember the fine fate we showed you, if you'd done right by Harry Potter? You didn't do your part, so we've changed your fate."

All three women smiled cruelly at Albus.

The middle-aged weaver-woman said, "You live for attention, you live for adoration, you live for praise from the crowd and you live for wizards and witches scurrying to carry out your 'suggestions.' Those days are over. From this day forwards, you will be ignored or even shunned. If anyone pays attention to you, the only result will be he hurting you with words, spells or fists. Nobody will ask for your counsel, and nobody will heed your counsel if you offer it unasked. You will suggest things, you will ask for things, you will demand things, and you will insist on things, but the results will be the same: the word no, every time. Your funeral will be a cheap one; and if your brother Aberforth does not outlive you, nobody will attend your funeral. Your portrait will never hang in the Hogwarts headmaster's office."