Disclaimers: Harry Potter and his world belong to J.K. Rowling and to her assorted publishers, not to me. Antonia Dumarest is mine, as are the assorted Snape and Dumarest relatives, and may be used with permission; e-mail me.

Spoilers: All five HP novels.

PRELUDE TO WAR: SUMMER

Part Three: Explanations, At Last (Monday evening, 15 July 1996)

I: Explaining to Friends

As Dumbledore had planned, the Grimmauld place group arrived in time for dinner, and was soon seated at the Staff Room dining table with the others.

"So, did everything go all right?" Ron asked Harry, as he busily cut up his roast beef.

Harry looked up; there was a shadow in his eyes Ron hadn't seen that morning. "Well, I wouldn't say that it went that smoothly, but yes, we did what we went there for," he said at length. "I have now magically claimed the House as the new Lord Black and Master of the House, and we can keep using it. We're also finally having the service for Sirius; it'll be Thursday evening, and we can have it there instead of here. It'll be safer."

He managed a thin smile. "And thanks to Mad-Eye and Professor Snape, Madam Black is history. We don't have to listen to her screeching ever again."

"How?" asked George.

"Well…" Harry began, "she got kind of mad when Kreacher beheaded himself right in front of her and us all."

"He what?" Hermione demanded. All the teens' eyes were now on Harry.

"Well, my claiming the house made Sirius' Will a binding Magical Contract," Harry explained. "In it, he gave Kreacher three choices, and I gave him all of them: serve me and the House of Black as the new Master; lock himself up in some cottage in Wales with the portraits for the rest of his life; or take the opportunity to join his ancestors. The Will let him do any of these. Apparently I wasn't a worthy enough Master for him to serve, and he didn't want to leave; so he did the latter." Harry managed to maintain a calm and even tone. "And before you ask: I could no more free him than Sirius could; he knew too much about the Order for our safety, and you know who the next nearest relatives are. It was his talking to the Malfoys that helped them lay the trap. He was also about three parts senile, so I guess it was a mercy. We had two senior house-elves from here as well; you should have heard Gaby tell Kreacher off for telling secrets and not attending to his work. Anyway, Dobby and Winky are now working for me, and have promised many improvements."

"I want to know how they got down that portrait," Ron insisted. "Surely it didn't just fall off!"

"Nope," Harry replied, managing to turn his little smile into a slight smirk. "See, Kreacher did what he did in full view of her, and she got…rather mad about it. She started yelling that she wouldn't let me be the Master, and that's when Mad-Eye and Professor Snape both cut loose with Incendio, at the same time. Dumbledore blocked the flames from taking anything else, and nothing was left but charcoal and a scorch mark on the wall."

The others perked up; this was something new, that Moody and Snape actually did something together. After a silence, Ron asked, "Why didn't they do that long before now?"

"I'm not sure," Harry confessed. "It might have to do with the fact that now that I'm the Master, they can do it. I'm not sure Sirius thought of that. Dumbledore's my trustee and the executor of the Will; he had to officially announce me as the Heir. Moody's my guardian, so he has some say. Snape isn't either one, but he was working with my guardian. Anyway, the first point is that we don't have to listen to either her screeching or Kreacher's insults ever again, and the second is that the house will be a lot tidier."

"And what about the rest of the heads on the wall?" asked Hermione.

"I told Dobby and Winky to take them down, and do with them—and Kreacher—whatever is proper for house-elves," Harry replied. "I'll let them manage that; I have no clue as to the proprieties. They'll take down most of the portraits, too. Anyway, they're going to fix the place up nice for the service on Thursday, and Mad-Eye's going to move in. Afterwards, we can use that as a place to practice as well as here. Since it's Unplottable and warded as it is, it should be safe."

"And this took all afternoon?" Hermione asked.

"Well, we also sent Buckbeak out," Harry said. He told them how it had been done, and added, "I just couldn't see him being happy cooped up in a bedroom. Where would he be able to fly, in Muggle London? Now that Malfoy and Macnair are in Azkaban, I can't see the Ministry bothering with one hippogriff." The others agreed.

"Also," Harry added, "I gave Dobby and Winky very detailed instructions on how to handle keeping the Order's secrets as well as mine. Anything that happens in that house is under my Family secrets, anyway, which they are bound to keep; but we added a layer of protection. There is now a new Family: the Phoenix Family, with Dumbledore as the Head of Family. All the Order members, including you lot, are members of that Family. Anyone who has the Mark is automatically kept out, except with Dumbledore's permission, so we don't have to worry about the Malfoys or Lestranges. Professor Snape is the only one of that sort allowed there."

"Why did you have Snape there?" asked Fred quietly.

"Partly as a witness," Harry replied calmly. "He's a Dark Pureblood, after all; I had him talk to Madam Black first. He really told her off about how both her sons were actually victims of the Dark Lord. I also wanted to be sure that Dobby and Winky knew that he's allowed in, despite…what he is. Anyway, it's just as well he was there; I'm not sure that any one person could have done for her, but two did." And all the rest of what happened today is too private, and they don't need to know. Some things are better left alone.

Harry decided it was time to get the focus off him. "So, how'd it go for the rest of you lot?" he asked. The rest of dinner, and a fair amount of time afterwards, was spent by the other teens bringing him up-to-date on their progress.

Back in the Common Room, Ron gave Harry back the Marauders' Map.

"Thanks, mate," said Ron, with a grin. "That proved to be a real eye-opener for Professor Flitwick—that on top of your dad and them becoming Animagi right under the Professors' noses."

Harry managed a smile, as he tucked the Map into a robe pocket and settled into his favorite armchair. "How much did he see that he didn't know about?"

"A lot," Ron replied. He sat down on a couch; Hermione and Ginny flanked him. "He also told us something else: that those weren't the only secret exits. There's at least one in the dungeons that Professor Snape uses for discreet exits. However, as Ginny pointed out, it's likely Riddle knows of them too."

"We really hated to tell him about the one to Honeyduke's," George added, "but we think that under the circumstances the Marauders would have approved." He and his twin were on the other couch; Neville was in the other armchair with Luna at his feet on a cushion.

Harry nodded. "As Professor Dumbledore said earlier: these aren't usual times, and the usual things won't help any more," he said quietly. "I'd rather sacrifice the secrets of the Map than endanger Hogwarts. Too many lives are at stake."

"The Professors are certainly being generous with us," said Hermione thoughtfully. "Is that part of it, that they're willing to accept our help?"

"We've proven ourselves," Ginny replied. "And they know that we're targets. I don't know about some of the others, but Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall aren't willing to just abandon us. They've also learned the hard way that if they don't tell us things, we'll find out anyway. So long as we keep proving our worth, they'll let us have what we need to help them."

"They need us," Ron added. "They can't do everything they seem to want to do without help. Having underage help that they can trust is better than hiring helpers that maybe they can't."

"But what started them on this?" asked Hermione. "They seem to be…oh, I don't know…rather intense about things. I mean, I agree with everything Professor Dumbledore told us the night of our induction; I just don't see why they've been spurred into action like this. It's almost as if they have a deadline or something. And they never have summer classes."

"Well," Neville put in, "most of they want to do has to be discreetly done, so it has to be done before term starts. Some of it will likely be done before the Potions class starts. And I'd dearly love to find out who thought that up. Snape normally hates to be in front of a class any more than he must."

"I think it was the Headmaster," Ron replied. "From what he said to us, there were only nine students who got an O on their Potions OWL; you were one of them, Hermione. That wasn't enough for a Sixth-Year NEWT class, and letting in all the ones who got an E and wanted Potions would have made for two classes as usual, when they only want one at that level. I think it's to help weed out the ones they really don't want, like Malfoy's pet bookends."

"But that means they might be in the summer class," Neville said, "which is even more of a reason to get some things done before then."

Harry decided it was time to give them some solid data. "Look at it this way: we put eleven Inner Circle Death Eaters into Azkaban," he began. "Sooner or later, Riddle will break them out. Even Snape agrees with that."

"He does," confirmed Fred. "He said so at the last Order meeting."

"And in the meantime, the Dark Bastard is stuck with Bellatrix, Goyle, Pettigrew and Snape for anything major," George continued. "Frankly, of that whole lot, Snape's the brightest."

"No lie," Harry agreed. "Well, Bellatrix is probably as bright, but she's half insane. So—when they do get out—what's Riddle going to be after? Us. And later, he'll want Hogwarts. I'm here, and Dumbledore's here, and if he ever took over here it would be a major loss for the Light and a major problem getting him back out again. I don't think Hogwarts is just a school; it's a major magical center, and something of a fortress besides. So, the Professors have to do all in their power to secure this place. Wards aren't enough; people will be the weak point. There aren't enough of the Professors to mount a proper defense of this castle, if Riddle ever got serious about trying to take it, or even got serious about infiltration. Even I can see that, and I'm no strategist."

"Well, if you ever bothered to actually read Hogwarts: A History, you'd find out some of this," Hermione chided.

"Maybe so—but remember, there seems to be a fair bit that the book doesn't cover," Harry reminded her. "Remember the Chamber of Secrets? I have a funny feeling that there's more than that hidden here. I mean, Hogwarts has been here, what, a thousand years? That's plenty of time for things to be hidden and forgotten.

"Anyway: the Professors have from now until the Inner Circle's broken out to bolster the defenses and boost our training. They can't afford to all go home for the summer and leave the school empty, as they usually do. The ones who normally stay are the ones like Filch and Hagrid, the ones least able to put up a fight. That's the immediate deadline they're under: to make Hogwarts—and us—as safe as possible before the Inner Circle is freed."

A silence fell over the room, broken by Hermione.

"There are still some things I don't get," she said. "All right—we six are in danger because of the Ministry. That doesn't explain the twins. I can understand NEWT revision to actually take them."

"Ah—the Headmaster is granting us lab space for research, for things for the Order," Fred replied. "This way, we don't compromise the shop."

"We won't be full-time here," George put in. "But we will be commuting back and forth as needed. In case you didn't know, the shop is an Order outpost in Diagon Alley; our clerks and we hear everything that goes on out there. We also have a direct Floo to Headquarters, the Burrow and here: the only ones there. Dumbledore set that up in case of emergencies."

"And now that you lot are Auxiliary members, you'll have access to the safe routes," Fred finished.

Hermione nodded. "All of that makes sense," she agreed. She turned to Harry. "And I think I can understand why they took you out of Privet Drive. But why are they being so accommodating, so fast?"

Ron added in what had been bothering him all week. "And Harry—you never did tell us what you meant, the night of the induction, about knowing what you alone had to do, and the 'prior engagement that takes priority over everything else in your life'. You promised to tell us about it, when you weren't as tired, and when we were all here."

"I agree, Harry," said Ginny. "We've gone on enough about how the adults don't tell us anything; we can't afford to do it to each other. If we're involved, we have to be informed."

"Right," Ron agreed; then he continued. "From what you've said, and what Dumbledore said at the induction, the Auxiliary was your idea in the first place, so that we could all be on the same page as the regular Order. What did you do to Dumbledore to convince him? He's never wanted to tell us anything before. Was it the letter you wrote?"

I guess I'm caught, thought Harry. It was going to happen sooner or later. But when did Ron start being perceptive about things? This is the second time this week. I thought that was Hermione's job.

Aloud, he said, "All right, you lot, I guess I've got to talk. I still can't tell everything, but you will need to know another important fact or three for your own good. Now that you're in the Order, sort of, you can know more." He waved a hand. "Get comfortable, you lot; I only want to tell this once."

When everyone had settled back into the chairs and couches, Harry began. "You guys know about that prophecy that was broken. Well, if you'll remember, it was about both Tom and me. That night, after we came back here, I found out what it did say, from the one who heard it in the first place: Professor Dumbledore."

"Should you tell it to us?" asked Hermione.

Harry shook his head. "I won't tell you all of it. But Tom knows the first part of it anyway, and I think the Order does too; some of it is what you need to know to answer your questions. The other part is what he was so mad to get that he spent months trying to force-feed me enough info to get me curious enough to do just what did do: go to the Ministry and take it. As Malfoy said, only the ones it's made about can touch it, and Tom wasn't about to come down where he could be seen—not when half his strategy this year was based on Fudge being in denial."

He managed a bitter smile. "And was Tom ever ticked off that it broke, too; he blamed his faithful Death Eaters for letting me beat them yet again. I hear he really took it out on Bellatrix."

Ginny interrupted. "Harry, you're calling him 'Tom', just as I do," she pointed out.

"Well, that's one of the resolutions I made this year, and I put that in my letters to Snape and Dumbledore," Harry replied. "I am not going to use any of the silly nicknames for Tom Riddle any more, including his own. If people are so scared of his own chosen name that they can't use it, then they can call him by his real name; that doesn't seem to scare people, and is much easier than the usual terms. And it does irritate him."

The smile disappeared. "Anyway, the first part, what Tom and the Order both know, is this: 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord' is a Wizard child born at the end of the seventh month—July—the year after it was made, to parents who had defied Tom three times. That's only two people: me, and Neville."

Neville's eyes widened. "But why is it you and not me, then?" he asked. "My birthday's the day before yours."

"Because thanks to Wormtail, Tom came for me first," Harry replied. "If he'd gone for you first, maybe you'd be the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. But I'm the one he came after first, and thanks to Mum's sacrifice, he was beaten. Not destroyed, but beaten. The thing is, now he's back. He keeps coming after me to finish the job, so he knows something. I'm not going to tell it all, but this much I have to say: in the end, it's going to be down to him and me. One day, we'll meet, and only one can walk away. Dumbledore can't finish him, although right now he's the only one who can give him a decent fight; you should have seen them in the Atrium. Neither can the Order, nor the Ministry, nor all the Aurors there are: just yours truly."

Harry looked around to the others. "So, you see, now that I know what I have to do, I'm going to train for it—as fast and as hard as I can, so that fewer people have to die because of him. Nothing else matters: not Quidditch, not schoolwork—although I'll be studying a lot harder in my core classes—not a social life. Problem is, he's not alone: he has his Death Eaters. Besides the danger you're already in on your own merits, by being members of families who fight against him, you're in danger just by being close to me. You've also made it very clear that you won't leave me. I realized the hard way I can't protect you all, not by myself; and the Order can't really spare the people to guard all of you. That's why I thought of the Auxiliary Order, kinda like an extension of the DA. I may be good enough to deal with Tom someday, but I'll never be able to take him and his Inner Circle at the same time. If you won't stay out of the fight, then you have to be good enough to hold your own; I can't do it all."

Ginny looked up and met Harry's eyes. "Let me get this clear: it's you and Tom, and one of you will kill the other. Right?"

"Right," affirmed Harry glumly. "One day, either I'll be dead, or I'll have blood on my hands. Or both." He looked around the group again. "Can you live with that, being friends with someone who will either be the number-one victim of the Dark Lord, or who will have to murder him?"

"It won't be murder," Neville said softly, but firmly. Everyone now turned to face him. "We've already established that this is wartime. In a war, if you want to survive, let alone win, you kill or capture the enemy. He can't be captured, so he has to be killed. It's obvious that you've chosen to kill him rather than have him kill you, because there isn't anyone else who can. I can live with that; I'd rather be friends with the one who kills He-Who—Tom Riddle—" Neville forced out the name, "—than to live or die in a world where he rules."

Neville now turned to the group as Harry had. "If any of the rest of you disagrees, say so now," he continued, in the same tone. "Harry will need all the help he can get, and we're the ones to give it to him. Riddle has cost me almost as much as he has Harry; I don't want to see the rest of my friends and family go the same way. The only way we can stop him is to fight back, and the only way we can win is together. Some of us are going to get hurt, like we did at the Ministry. Some of us may die. But I'll die happy if it gets Harry his victory. That's what I swore to Sunday night, and I meant every word."

The twins stared at Neville for a moment; they had never heard him so forceful. But it was only a moment before Fred spoke up.

"We're in this, too," he said. "Our whole family, bar Percy-the-prat, is now in on this."

"That's why Mum goes spare every time she hears of us or you involved," George continued.

"Two of her brothers were in the Order during the First War, and were killed—Gideon and Fabian Prewett. They went down fighting and took some Death Eaters with them. The one who did for them is named Antonin Dolohov."

At that, the younger students reacted. "That's the bastard who took down Hermione," Harry growled. "He was already in Azkaban for your uncles. Sirius and I took him down; pity he survived it. The next time, we had better be sure he doesn't."

Harry took a breath. "And that brings me to the next point I want to make. You now know that I have to kill someone. As Neville said, this is war; some of us are going to get hurt and some may die. But are you willing to kill if need be? Are you willing to take someone down, not knowing if he'll live afterwards? Or she? There are a lot of ways to kill without using Unforgivables; I have to study those so I can win my battle. It won't be pretty, and it's likely to be painful and messy."

Hermione spoke up first. "I think that's something we can't really know until it happens," she said slowly. "We might be willing now, or not; but whether we can when the time comes—well, we can't exactly test it, can we?"

"I can," Neville said, in the same soft but firm tone as earlier. "The Lestranges have to die, all three of them; and if the Ministry won't do it, the Order and we have to."

Fred eyed the younger boy. "Neville, not that I'm complaining—but when did you get so hard?" he asked. "This isn't like you at all."

"When did I get so hard? At the Ministry," Neville replied tightly. "Being held helpless so that someone else can Crucio you tends to skew your outlook just a bit, the more so when you know she's the one who did for your parents. Seeing your friends cut down by ruthless killers does it too. Hearing Lucius Malfoy order them to kill all of us except Harry, and him too when they got the Prophecy—that also helped decide me. That's why I joined the Order. I won't stand by, I won't be protected, and I'll do anything I have to do so that Harry can win. That includes taking abuse from Snape, training as hard as I can, and standing up to Gran if she objects. She's in the Order now, too, so I don't think she'll be a problem as long as she thinks we're just doing research and training. But she's no fighter; she'll need to be protected. But whatever Harry needs to get to where he's going: I'm there. It's them or us, as far as I'm concerned."

"And if you think this isn't like Neville: I remember in our first year, the boy who tried to stop us—one against three—from going after the Sorcerer's Stone so that we wouldn't get into trouble," Hermione said. She turned to Neville and smiled. "He was Sorted into Gryffindor for a reason, Fred. Now that he's got a wand that he can actually use decently instead of a hand-me-down, I think he'll do great." Neville smiled back, and flushed just a little.

"Harry has to live long enough to get to him and do for him," Ron said darkly. "Far as I'm concerned, anyone in the way is fair game for the rest of us. If they die, they die; they chose to follow a murdering bastard who isn't even what he calls superior. From what Harry's said, he isn't even human any more—so where does he get off telling people they should bow to him?"

"Because he's made the Death Eaters into slaves, just as much as bound house-elves are slaves," Harry replied. "Once they take the Mark, they are bound to him for life. Snape told Madam Black just what did happen to Regulus Black: he tried to get out, and he was caught and turned over to the newer Death Eaters for practice in cursing. He didn't survive it."

"That makes him a slave, too, doesn't it?" asked Ginny. "Snape, I mean."

"Yes, it does," Harry replied. "And he knows it; he also knows what the price is if he's ever discovered as a spy. He told me, indirectly; in fact, he warned me not to learn to care about him, because one day the summons he gets will be the last one."

"And given what Riddle puts you through, you'll have a front-row seat," Ron gloomed. "I don't envy you one bit, not half I don't."

Harry shook his head. "I may have to see it; he's the one who'll have to suffer it." He sighed. "Look—the man is everything Slytherin, has the temperament of a dragon with a toothache, and takes it out on everyone else around him: but I've come to realize he's one of the bravest people in the whole Order. I've met Riddle, what, five times? Snape meets with him on a regular basis, and feeds him lies and half-truths. He really is the superb Occlumens everyone says he is; if he weren't, he'd've been messily dead long ago, instead of just suffering regular bouts of the Cruciatus when Riddle's in a temper."

The room fell silent, as those present digested this datum. Finally, Hermione spoke up.

"Well, it seems that we need to discover some way to destroy him—Riddle, I mean, not Snape," she said. "I don't think he's immortal yet, but somehow I don't think the Killing Curse will work either."

"Whyever not?" asked Fred. "Apart from the fact Harry can't cast one yet, I mean."

"Because it didn't work on Harry," Hermione replied. "Riddle died—or whatever—the first time from a bounced Killing Curse. It blew him out of his body, but what was left was coherent enough to survive. I don't recall if there was a body found or not. What has to be done is to destroy all of him: body and spirit alike. I think that others may be able do him harm, like Dumbledore; Harry just has to be the one to finish him."

"Maybe so," Harry allowed, "but anyone who tries will likely end up dead. I'd like to see us win this war without our side getting completely slaughtered: if that happens, then the Fudges and the Umbridges in the Ministry will be the only ones left alive. I don't want that, any more than I want Riddle to win. We need plans, people; we need ideas; and we need to integrate what we do with what the rest of the Order does so that when we do come of age, we'll be slotted right in." He turned to Hermione. "In fact, that's what I want you for: I want a counter to that revival ritual. I know Snap didn't find any, but there might be something in the Black Library."

"Considering what we already know about Minister Fudge, we can expect him to backstab us as soon as Riddle's finished," Luna put in softly. "He'll hold back his Heliopaths until he sees us win, then wipe us out."

Hermione forced herself not to snap back a cutting comment about Luna's belief in strange creatures, but it was Harry who spoke.

"Actually, Luna is right," he said, surprising the others. "Fudge will go along with us as long as we're useful: then he'll figure out some way either to take the credit, or blame us. And this, folks, is why Professor Dumbledore also has to survive the war. He's the only one with enough clout to settle the Ministry if we win. I do know he's making plans allowing for whether he does or doesn't survive a victory, and he's doing all he can to get Ministry allies. But he's the only one with the power, prestige and skill to play the politics and who is strong enough to be respected. I may have the power someday, and the prestige if I win and survive: but he's got over a century of experience in dealing with Ministers and other officials. That kind of skill you don't get overnight—especially with the upbringing I've had. He does have it—and it scares me that he also plans to go back into training and fight in the front lines himself. He's not immortal. And I intend to take that Wizarding Culture class this term; there is so much I don't know about the world I'm supposed to defend."

"Dad can help you there," Ginny said. "After all, he's got years of being in the Ministry. He can teach you at least the basics." The other Weasleys nodded.

"All right--then we're all agreed: Harry has to do for the Dark Bastard, and we have to make sure he can. Right?" Fred summed up.

"Right," chorused the others, a little raggedly.

"And afterwards, we have to watch our backs, to protect Harry, ourselves, and our allies from however many of our own side turn on us. Right?" This was from George.

"Right," the others agreed, not so raggedly this time.

"And we're in this together," Fred came back. "All of us, not just Harry. We've got just as much to lose as he does." He turned and stared at Harry. "That means you work with us, little adopted brother: no pushing us away, no needless secrets, and no blaming yourself when someone gets hurt unless you personally aim the wand. Right?" He gave Harry his best imitation of Molly Weasley's glare.

The silence hung for a long minute, as Harry tried to absorb the sudden perceptiveness of one of the prankster twins. First Ron, now the twins, he thought. When did they grow up? Oh well…I guess I'm outnumbered, he realized, as he noticed that all of them were staring at him and waiting for his reply. "Right," he said, a little shakily.

"And if there's anyone who disagrees, speak now," George finished. No one did.

"Good. Now that we're agreed, let's get to bed," Hermione said practically. "Tomorrow comes early if we want to get everything done that we have to do."

II: Meanwhile, Back At the Ministry…

(Tuesday, 16 July 1996, Ministry of Magic)

"Mr. Minister, Marcus Julius Montague is here for his appointment," Percy Weasley told Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge that Tuesday afternoon.

"Ah yes—do show him in," replied the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. "Perhaps he can explain why the Black estate has a problem."

The Wizarding solicitor entered the Minister's office, and upon invitation took his seat. "You asked to see me, Mr. Minister," he said politely.

"Ah yes—this is a matter I seem to be having difficulty with," Fudge replied. "It's in regard to the Black Estate. I cannot get a straight answer from the Goblins, as I am not an 'interested party', and none of my usual sources are helping. I personally declared Sirius Black deceased over three weeks ago, since my Aurors saw him fall through the Death Veil, and cleared the estate for probate. Since the man was either in Azkaban or on the run for the last fifteen years, then the next heir should be Narcissa Black Malfoy. One of her sisters was disinherited for an unacceptable marriage, and one is regrettably a wanted Death Eater, and the alleged cause of Mr. Black's demise; the next nearest living relations are descendants of two Squib aunts of his who were also disinherited, and who emigrated to the United States. You are Mrs. Malfoy's solicitor; I would like you to tell your client that I am doing all I can from my end to help her free up her rightful assets, but I am getting nowhere. Is there something I should know?"

"Yes, there is, a good deal as a matter of fact," Mr. Montague said. He opened his briefcase and took out a notebook. "I was present on Mrs. Malfoy's behalf at the reading of the Will of Sirius Black, which took place last week on the 10th at Gringotts. He made this Will on 15 May of this year, that is to say about two months ago; it was filed with Gringotts to the satisfaction of the Goblins."

"What do you mean, he had a Will?" demanded Fudge. "The man was on the run or in prison; how could he make one? And two months ago, you say?"

"I do not know, as I was not his solicitor," replied Montague, "but you may recall that the Goblins tend to ignore the legal status of people in our world, so long as they themselves are not cheated. As I said, I was present at the reading. Mr. Black, regrettably, has specifically disinherited Mrs. Malfoy, Master Draco Malfoy, and Bellatrix Black Lestrange, and did so in the first part of the Will. All Mrs. Malfoy and Mrs. Lestrange get of the Black assets are the dower accounts they received at their marriages, as those cannot be revoked. Mrs. Tonks did not get one, apparently. At this point in the reading, I was evicted from the room, on the grounds that my clients had no further interest in the matters. I have filed an appeal for information only on behalf of the Malfoys; all I was able to find out were the Family and line heirs, not any amounts, listings or residual bequests."

"What do you mean, only the Family and line heirs?"

"Just that; the only heirs I was able to discover were those of the Black Family, or related to them, and the new Black heir to the titles and estates. This, I suppose, was due to Mrs. Malfoy's Family interest, as her minor son Draco is the only living male blood heir in the line. However, Mr. Black revoked the disinheriting of Andromeda Black Tonks; she has one daughter and no sons. The descendants of the Squib aunts were not listed; those were covered in the Will of the late Alphard Black, their brother."

Fudge's eyes opened wide. "So, you're saying that Andromeda Tonks is now the heir to the Black line?"

Montague shook his head. "In part. She apparently gets part of the money, and some of the Black chattels. Her daughter Nymphadora is the contingency Heir, as the Black Heir is a minor. Mr. Black never married, and had no blood offspring, legitimate or otherwise, nor did his late younger brother Regulus, who died in 1980; he was the last male Black. The new Heir to the Lordship of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black is Mr. Black's Godson, Harry Potter."

Fudge paled, and stared at the solicitor. "How is that possible? That boy has Muggles for guardians; Black was the only Wizarding guardian he had. He cannot possibly manage an estate, let alone a Wizarding estate the size of the Black holdings!"

"That was the case," Montague affirmed. "However, guardianship is not the same as holding an estate in trust for a minor. Mr. Black was prudent enough to allow for his demise during Mr. Potter's minority, as in fact has happened. In this case, the trustees are Albus Dumbledore and one Remus Lupin. Should Mr. Potter die during his minority, the successor heir is Nymphadora Tonks. Should both she and her mother also die, the next heir is Arthur Weasley, followed by his children in order; I believe that he is a second or third cousin, two or three times removed, to Mr. Black. He, his wife, and all of the children in fact have shared in the benefits, to what percentage I do not know. Should all of them perish, the title will be declared extinct, and Remus Lupin will inherit the benefits and seat rights only, as he legally may not have children owing to his condition. However, Mr. Black added that Mr. Lupin may fully inherit if either of two conditions obtain: he is cured of Lycanthropy, or the laws involving lycanthropes are changed."

Dumbledore again, fumed Fudge to himself. He now has control over one of the oldest and richest estates in the entire Wizarding World! That boy won't have the least clue on what to do with it, and neither he nor Dumbledore will give so much as a Knut to help the Malfoys! Something Montague had said caught his attention. "What do you mean, that was the case? I have not heard of anything happening to the boy's Muggle Aunt and Uncle, who were his legal guardians last I heard. He does not reach majority until about this time next year."

"I wondered about that myself," Montague replied. "There was apparently an affirmation of the Wills of the late James and Lily Potter filed with the Black Will; Sirius Black was the only trustee for them, and obviously had been unable to manage it. The Dursleys were specifically disinherited by Lily Potter, unless they or their son, also a Muggle, should produce a Magical child, in which case a trust fund would be set up for the benefit of that child, to be run by the Potter heir. When I looked further into this in the Families office, I found out that there are also several new filings for Mr. Potter; he has new guardians. The Muggle Dursleys have both signed a waiver of guardianship in favor of Albus Dumbledore; this was dated on the 7th of this month, that is to say a bit over a week ago. A further filing indicates that according to the Will of Mr. Black, a Mr. Remus Lupin is the successor Godfather and Wizarding Guardian. As he is a registered Werewolf, he must have a co-guardian who is a non-lycanthrope. The Will also gives Mr. Dumbledore custody of the co-guardianship, not the guardianship itself, although he may choose to exercise it. In accordance with the Will, and further empowered by the waiver, he has made an assignment of the co-guardian position, in favor of a Mr. Alastor Moody."

"Mad-Eye Moody? Why him? And who inherits the Potter estate, after Harry Potter?"

Montague consulted his notebook. "The first you will have to inquire of Mr. Dumbledore; I do not know Mr. Moody personally, but he was present at the reading, 'to provide security'; I understand that he is a retired Auror. If Mr. Potter dies intestate, and unmarried with no children, then his heirs are whoever are his closest living relatives other than the Dursleys. By our laws, that would be any living Potter connections first for the Potter bloodline, and then any other Evans connections, which I assume would be more Muggles. None of either have been mentioned. If he makes a Will, then it will be to whomever he so chooses. He is empowered to the rights of an adult testator, should he make his Will and die during his minority. Dumbledore and Lupin, again, are his trustees."

"And if they die during his minority?" Fudge inquired. "After all, Dumbledore is quite old, even for a Wizard, and Werewolves don't tend to survive as long as normal folks."

Montague took a deep breath, and referred to his notebook again. "Mr. Black was quite thorough in this issue for both the Black and the Potter estates; if more of my clients were, I would have fewer headaches. For the Black estate, the successor trustees are Andromeda Black Tonks and Minerva McGonagall. For the Potter estate, and for the cash portion of the Black estate that Mr. Potter inherits, they are Ms. McGonagall and Arthur Weasley. Should they both perish, then it will be William Weasley and Andromeda Tonks. All these trusteeships expire upon Mr. Potter's 17th birthday, on 31 July of next year, although Mr. Lupin's appointment as Godfather does not."

"Were they present?"

"Yes, all those I have mentioned, and more besides." The solicitor went on to name all those present.

"And what is missing from all this?" asked Fudge.

"Nowhere was an asset list filed. Once Mr. Potter claims any of the estate as Lord Black, he is Magically empowered to the title and lands, in which case Mr. Black's name will disappear and Mr. Potter's name will appear on relevant documents and the Title Index. No one else may enter or have any dealings there without his leave, or that of his trustees and guardians. That has in fact happened, but there is no listing on where it happened, only that it happened yesterday afternoon. Mr. Black's Will is now a binding Magical Contract: Mr. Potter is Lord Black. The houses, lands, house-elves, any indentured tenants, businesses and income are all his to do with as he pleases within the allowances of the Will, and within the boundaries of the estate lands, subject only to the advice and consent of his trustees and his guardians, who are in turn subject only to the laws regarding minors. The Blacks tended to be secretive about many of their holdings; some of the lands are under secrecy wards and others are under Fidelius charms. We may assume that whatever Antares Black died holding was either inherited by Sirius or by Altair Black, as Alphard predeceased him; since Altair only had daughters, and Alphard had no living children, then Sirius inherited the title and the Black benefits, such as the Wizengamot seat. Now that Mr. Potter is Lord Black, then his current heir for that title is Nymphadora Tonks, a granddaughter of Altair, until he reaches his majority next year."

Fudge sat there for a few moments, thinking. Finally, he realized that the next Heir to the Black estate was the Metamorphmagus Auror who was injured in the Ministry fracas, then Arthur Weasley, who while a pureblood was lamentably supportive of Muggles and unsupportive of Fudge. If the deceased Blacks ever knew that, they would all come back from the dead and scream at someone! He also realized that all of the heirs thus far mentioned were allies of Dumbledore's, as Black apparently had been, and there was no way that he would get anything out of the estate from Narcissa Malfoy on behalf of Lucius—who was unfortunately being held without bail in Azkaban until his trial. His plan to accelerate Narcissa's inheritance by exonerating Black, declaring him officially dead, and allowing the probate of his estate, had badly backfired, leaving it in the hands of those he least wished to have it: Dumbledore and his allies. On the other hand, he allowed, the fact that Bellatrix Lestrange had been disinherited as well kept the assets away from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named; Bellatrix was by all accounts insane and one of the Dark Lord's most devoted followers. It was too bad that she had not been caught with the others.

"Is there any way we can break the Will? Say, if we could prove that Black was not competent?" asked Fudge.

"I looked into that; the man did spend twelve years in Azkaban after all," Montague replied. "Unfortunately, as I said, he made and filed the Will with the Gringotts Goblins; they have their own means of detecting whether a testator is sane and/or competent. They accepted it and filed it, so apparently Black was competent to make the Will by their rules. The estate manager told me that if an appeal is filed to overturn it, then my clients will receive one Knut each in cash and pay the expenses, and Mrs. Lestrange will receive nothing. Mr. Black could not know that she would cause his demise, but the Goblins do know that."

"Who is the estate manager?"

"Racknar; he is one of their senior managers, and I believe he was also the estate manager for the estates of Antares, Alphard and Altair Black. His reputation is unimpeachable."

Fudge thought some more, then he had an idea, and summoned Percy Weasley. When the latter arrived in his office, Fudge went straight to the point.

"Mr. Weasley, have you had any correspondence from Gringotts, regarding the estate of the late Sirius Black?" the Minister asked.

"Yes, I have, Mr. Fudge, and I must admit I was shocked," Percy replied. "I had no idea that he was anywhere near my family, let alone close enough to leave them anything in his Will. Father apparently is a distant relation of the Blacks, and I think Mother is too, by marriage."

"What did you get?" asked Montague.

Percy tried not to frown. "Sir, may I ask why you are interested?" he asked politely.

"You may," Montague replied. "I am a solicitor; my clients in this matter are Narcissa Black Malfoy and Draco Malfoy. Mrs. Malfoy is a first cousin of the late Mr. Black, and would have inherited a considerable portion of his estate had he died intestate, as was supposed. He, however, made a Will, dated two months ago, specifically disinheriting her and her sister Bellatrix Lestrange, and revoking the disinheriting of their other sister Andromeda. However, there was no asset list filed, and we are trying to determine the holdings. Can you enlighten us any?"

"I'm not sure I can," Percy admitted. "My share is reserved in trust. I apparently get one-fifth of one-tenth of the gold in the Black vault; I assume the other four-fifths of that tenth are for my four adult brothers. Father will have gotten something, if the rest of us did. The inheritance is conditional, and that has to do with Weasley family matters; but an exact amount was not stated, so I have no idea of the totals." Curiosity got the better of him. "Who is the Black Heir? Andromeda Tonks? I would have heard if it was Father."

"No," replied Montague. "The Black Heir to the titles and estates is his Godson, Harry Potter. During his minority, his trustees are Albus Dumbledore and Remus Lupin. Should he die before his birthday in July of next year, Andromeda's daughter Nymphadora is the Heir, then your father."

Percy was shocked. "That Auror? And Father? What was that man thinking?"

"Actually, he made a quite sensible Will, legally speaking," Montague replied. "He disinherited a known Death Eater, allowed for the fact that he had no children of his own, and provided contingency heirs and trustees. I never met the man, but given what I do know of the heirs and trustees, he apparently was rewarding his friends and trying to ensure that none of the Black assets went anywhere near He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. All the known heirs and trustees are either non-Death Eater blood kin, as is Miss Tonks, or allies of Albus Dumbledore; apparently the allegation that Black was a Death Eater was totally spurious, and the allegation that Peter Pettigrew is one and is currently alive, has some merit."

Percy froze: he knew who Pettigrew allegedly had been—an Animagus living with him and his family as a rat named Scabbers—and he did not want to investigate that line any further. Instead, he said, "I am sorry that I cannot enlighten you further, but you know as much as I do about it now, if not more."

"There is one other item," Montague offered. "Should your father inherit under those conditions, his next heirs are you and your brothers, in order of age. I believe that you are the third son? Should your father also pass, along with your elder brothers, then you would become Lord Black."

Percy was stunned. "There are no conditions?" he asked.

"The phrase was 'Arthur Weasley, and after him his descendants in legal order'," Montague replied. "Have your elder brothers any children?"

"Not so far," Percy said. "But I think it's highly unlikely that Harry should die along with this Auror and my Dad and Bill and Charlie, all within the next year."

"But aren't all of them allies of Dumbledore?" asked Montague. "That puts them into the line of fire, now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and the Death Eaters are active again. Mr. Potter is known to be an especial target of the Dark Lord."

"And the rest of your family are all friends of Harry Potter," Fudge added. "If war is starting again, as Dumbledore insists, then your family may well lose some members. Your youngest brother and your sister were among the group of students in the Ministry last month; the next time they may not be so lucky."

He rose from his seat. "Think about it, Weasley," he advised. "Now is the time to decide where you stand." Percy took that for the dismissal it was, and left, with much to mull over.

After the door closed, Montague asked, "Do you know what he meant by 'Weasley Family matters'?"

"Yes, I think so," replied the Minister. "He is estranged from his family because he is more loyal to the Ministry and me than to Dumbledore and Harry Potter, as his brothers are. If Black was one of Dumbledore's friends, then he knew about that; I suspect the condition has to do with Weasley reconciling with his family."

"Can this be encouraged, do you think?" asked Montague. "If I recall, the Weasleys are known for two things: honesty and poverty. This Percy Weasley would seem to be the type to be grateful if you could smooth the way to a fair bit of gold for him."

Fudge thought about that for a few moments. "Maybe," he allowed. "But that's not something to push him on; let him think it up himself. And you are right about what can happen during wartime. If we cannot secure Narcissa's inheritance, then better it should go to someone deserving of better things. I think this will be a situation we watch, but do not act on for a while."

"For now," agreed Montague. He stood. "I must go; I need to give this information to Mrs. Malfoy."

He and the Minister shook hands, and then he left the office.

Left alone, Fudge settled back and thought. Some things need to grow and ripen before being acted upon, he decided. Now is not the time to act. Now is the time to wait and see.