Disclaimer: Check first chapter for full disclaimer and other warnings.

Chapter 12 – Hunting the Truth

The billowing dark cloak of the hurrying man was, as well as the man himself, known as a symbol of terror by all teenagers that went to Hogwarts, as well as many young adults who freshly graduated from said school. The employees of St Mungo didn't say anything to stop the decided Potion Master but kept asking, among themselves, where he was going and why. Severus Snape was paying a visit to a couple of 'old friends.'

On the way, though, he spotted the Grangers and stopped. Mark was holding a sleeping Jane on his shoulder, and they looked like they cried a lot. Severus went to a young nurse nearby and addressed her in his harshest tone.

"What are the Grangers doing in the corridor?"

The terrified nurse could only start to stammer a vague "I didn't know that..." before Snape went to the patients' registry, which was displaying their status, and was also magically updated. Seeing that Hermione was in proper condition to see her parents, he scowled at the nurse and went to the waiting Grangers. Catching their attention and beckoning to them, he directed them into their daughter's room. There was Hermione, unhappy at the lack of study material in the room. Not able to even physically leave her bed, she had already counted the number of tiles on the floor, walls and ceiling, and computed the room's volume using different methods. Now she was bored. Ready to snap to the people invading her boredom, she turned and gasped, before falling in tears.

"Mum! Dad!"

That elicited squeals of happiness and laughter from the parents who hugged their daughter endlessly. Seeing an unmoving dark shape being them, Hermione squinted her eyes and recognized her Potion Professor.

"Professor Snape?"

"He brought you here, dear." His dad answered. "You were – how did they say? – depeted?"

"Depleted." Severus Snape's voice wasn't warm, nor wasn't it as cold as Hermione remembered. Approaching the bed, he looked intently into her eyes. "I hope that in the future, you'll refrain from studying way too much, Miss Granger," he said. "Still, if you want to properly research into new directions, you should ask me, once you get back to Hogwarts. Research is part of the Potion Master diploma, after all."

Hermione was stunned. Here was her golden opportunity, and she wasn't to let it fall. After shaking herself, she answered. "I'd love to, sir."

He gazed at her strangely for a moment, then collected himself and continued. "We'll see each other soon, then. In the meantime, I'd advise you to pay attention to the news. There should be some interesting developments soon." He smiled, then left the room.

Hermione was looking at the closed door in awe. Snape had indirectly proposed to tutor her in research! And he had smiled! The day was decidedly starting strangely. She then turned back to her parents and they caught back on two months' worth of family discussions.

Meanwhile, Snape was almost running through the building, towards the long-term ward. He had taken some time with Hermione and his planning was tight. Still, he liked her eagerness to learn and to explore new avenues. That was what research was. That was what he had always wanted to do. Incidentally, that's also why he coveted the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts position. And don't you dare calling the course 'DADA' in his presence! That sounded ridiculous, like a French name, or horse, even. He wanted the position because he always thought that it didn't require great preparation, contrarily to Potions, where he had to devise recipes; harvest ingredients to be lost to stupid students; clean the dungeon of sticky potions that daily littered the floor, walls and sometimes even ceiling, thankfully with the help of students in detention; and grading homework.

No, he thought, Defence must be lighter on the teacher's shoulders. He shrugged, while still moving through the hospital. Even a fraud author could do it, so, why not him? And then he could use some time to do practical research. He always wondered, for instance, what was the impact of moonlight on a simmering cauldron of Wolfsbane. He did make some research while attaining his diploma but that was a long time ago, and now that he was employed, he didn't have time anymore. As he reached the doors to the room where the Longbottoms were kept, he decided to ask for the Defence position to Dumbledore a last time, and to explain his real reasons, this time. Perhaps the old man knew them already, and had waited all this time for him to be honest about them. 'Damn the manipulative Headmaster!' he finally thought, putting his ranting mind to a pause. Crossing a privacy curtain, he looked at the prone forms of Alice and Franck Longbottom.

They had been tortured with the Cruciatus curse for a very long time, he reflected, and went mad from that. Perhaps the potion didn't work in that case? He calmed his frantic mind, and took one little bottle from each batch of potions. What he wanted was to give one to each and determine if one batch was better than the other. He administered the potions and waited for the effects to appear.

After one minute, nothing happened.

After two minutes, nothing happened either.

After two minutes and a half, still nothing had happened and he was starting to get upset.

But, after two minutes and forty-fives seconds, they started to react. Alice first, then Frank, started to move their eyes in little movements, and continued by quickly showing all sort of expressions on their face, starting with pain. He gathered that their mind was re-constructing itself, going from their latest experience to the earliest. Perhaps their years' worth of amnesia caused these three minutes without reaction. If that was true, was the duration while the potion worked correlated to the person's age? Always something to note. Always something to research. Snape was enjoying himself immensely, but he stopped these thoughts as their display of emotions stopped abruptly, and they both looked at him curiously.

Reflecting for a second, and damning himself for not bringing someone with him to explain things, he bent towards them, and talked with a low voice.

"You just woke from a long sleep. But I can't explain more right now because of a Death Eater emergency." He was sure that this got their attention, as they both were Aurors at the time of their demise. Sure, they stirred, obviously wanting to get up and fight. "Don't move! Don't talk, even. Your body is not used to move anymore, as it really has been a long time. Don't worry, I'll be back in a few hours to explain everything, I promise." He looked thoughtful for a second or two. "I can only tell you that your son is alive and well. Until I'm back, try not to indicate you awoke." He rose, looking them in the eye. 'Damn,' he thought, 'hiding that spark of intelligence will be difficult.'

He looked at them for a short while, and then left for the Ministry.

Apparating directly in the Minister's office, which wards had been customized by Dumbledore to let him pass, he checked that nobody was there first, and then smiled at them and raised his thumb.

"Longbottoms, check."

The smile that graced the aged Headmaster was a reward in itself. It even brought some of the old twinkle in his eyes. Arthur was visibly happy also. Snape gave the remaining two vials of potion to Dumbledore, so that he would mix one of them with the official induction potion. Both batches had been perfect, and Dumbledore would then have the spare one. He then left, true to the plan, to wait for Malfoy in the atrium. The schedule had been so tight that, five mere minutes after he appeared there, Malfoy and his clique pranced into the Ministry atrium. Snape recognized MacNair and Nott, but Malfoy had an air to him... something not quite right. Or rather, something that would be quite right if Lucius Malfoy wasn't really Lucius Malfoy.

He went to the impostor, a smile plastered on his face and his hand forwards, ready to congratulate him. 'Lucius' took his hand, and they shook while he praised the man's success in the votes. One more point. Lucius never shook hands. With anyone. Well, he could be really excited about taking the Ministry over, so Snape forced himself for the last test. Something only he and Lucius knew.

"Tell me, Lucius, how is my old love doing?"

The other man looked surprised, then thoughtful, before quickly answering. "My! I didn't remember you had fallen for my dear Cissa. She's fine, thank you."

'Lucius', having answered the question using the few borrowed memories he had of Snape turning around the Black family, took his leave of Severus to be honoured by the other persons present. Snape's smile, though, ever present because of Malfoy's retinue, was forced. He had had to expose his guts to speak like that, and that man – no, that boy – invented that lie on the spot. When Severus was younger, he had fallen in love with Bellatrix Black, sister to Narcissa Black who later married Lucius Malfoy. He and Sirius Black had even got into a fight and a long-term enmity because of that. Sometimes, thinking about it, he also thought that he had joined the Death Eaters because of her. Needless to say, he had been struck a deadly blow when she married Rodolphus Lestrange. That had been right after that episode that he confided to Dumbledore, and started to spy. Spiteful about her treachery, he had never fallen again for anyone. And his general behaviour wouldn't have helped if he had.

Grimly smiling at the Malfoy's retreating back, he went through a side door to join Dumbledore and Arthur in the induction room, where the ceremony was to take place. Most of the press was already there.

When Malfoy entered the room, almost everybody applauded. Everything was going smoothly, and in a few minutes, he would legally control the wizarding part of Britain.

He went to the podium and, after the compulsory standard introduction to this type of ceremony by Dumbledore, and a few ritual questions and answers, the vial was held to 'Lucius'. Snape had told Dumbledore to wait for a few seconds at least, until the potion's effect of sorting the mind was finished. In this case, only thirty seconds were sufficient, before Malfoy's eyes stopped going in every directions.

"What is thine full name?" the dreaded official question filled the whole amphitheatre. It was the last question. Malfoy was smiling. Arthur's hands were trembling. Snape was paling anxiously, hoping that the potion was correctly dosed and administered.

Malfoy's mouth opened. Closed. And opened again.

"Draco Ursinus Malfoy-Black."

A stunned silence ensued, and then utterly chaotic pandemonium erupted.

Meanwhile, in a funfair full of muggles...

The teenager sitting in front of Joan at the food stall wasn't quite exactly the one she had known as Gabriel. Sure, he looked the same, was equally scarred, although a great deal of it seemed to have disappeared over the days. For example, his neck was now totally healed. It surprised her because she didn't remember going to the hospital with him to treat this. The only time he went without her, it had been to remove his leg cast, and she doubted that he could have sustained plastic surgery in the short time he'd been away.

His right eye also had changed. It was a dark shade of red before, and now looked like a mix between a dull grey and light brown colour. When he had opened it after his long period of unconsciousness, she had been shocked. How could one change one's eye colour? The only method she heard about was with using coloured contact lenses, and she doubted that he used them.

The worst of this was his memory. While still laughing at the same jokes, and looking at her in the same way as before, he suffered holes in his memory. She had already remarked that, previously, because he had seldom spoken about his own history, and she had noticed that it wasn't due to shyness. Each time they had been discussing this, his eye had been darting left and right, instead of focusing on internal images. He had looked like he was searching for his memories without finding them. But now, he made no attempt at hiding his amnesia. He didn't even remember his own name! The self-affirmed Gabriel Swift, who had proper papers and all, now wasn't sure about his name anymore. Besides, he didn't have the same eye colour as the papers' picture, now.

Joan was suspicious about the other girl. What if he knew her? What if she made that to him? While they were eating, her explaining his own recent history to him, a kind of plan emerged in her mind. She would have to trick Grace into this, because the old woman wasn't generally intrusive in other's problems. But that was important.

Some time after their meal, she proposed the idea to Grace, who surprisingly agreed immediately to the idea. In fact, the old woman was feeling somewhat guilty of letting the redhead enter the ride without warning him, the other day. So she easily agreed to participate. The next person to convince was Gabriel himself. Grace took charge of that, bringing him in the ticket booth, where they could begin the work together.

He was to draw, using his newly-affirmed talent, portraits of the red-haired girl people and her three friends that went to the ride that evening. And Grace was to direct him, using her memories. Like an identification police officer.

She decided to start on the boys, because she remembered them better. It took most of the remaining of the day to achieve the three boys' faces, though, because of the queue of people waiting for the ride. After closing the show that evening, they took a quick dinner, and went to work on the girl's face.

What started as a guided and friendly drawing session, that evening, quickly turned into a solitary, silent, and furious scratching of the pen on the sheet of paper. Then on a second sheet. Then a third and fourth. Gabriel hadn't needed much directions to draw her face, and he had followed by drawing her entirely, sitting at a tree, and then reading a book. The pictures, although drawn with a black pen, were almost life-like and Grace was impressed. She also was anxious, as that meant something.

He knew her.

But he hadn't remembered her previously.

Perhaps, she reflected, it meant that meeting her was good to unlock his mind? Joan had told her that he was suffering from a severe form of amnesia.

Joan.

He had met her and hit on her quite immediately, and she suspected now that it was because of the resemblance between the two. If that was true, Joan was going to be very sad in the future, because she seemed to be quite taken by him.

Hearing the pen scratching stop, she glanced at the last picture, and remarked that if wasn't finished. Looking at him, she saw him frown. She turned back towards the picture, ready to ask him if something was wrong, when she remarked the global setting of the unfinished picture.

Her hair seemed to be flowing in the wind.

There were only clouds around.

She was flying.

On a broom.

If what she suspected before was true, the speed and easy drawing of the girl indicated that he was extracting her picture from his memory. But now she wasn't so sure. How could one remember seeing someone flying on a broom? Unless he saw that on a movie or in a fiction book, of course.

"Gabriel?"

"Hmm?"

"You know her?"

At the question, he raised his head. "Of course."

Sighing, she continued. "What's her name?"

"It's..." he hesitated, if only a little "J."

"You know, that's the nickname you gave to Joan. And this is not Joan."

He went silent for a while, looking the first picture thoughtfully. The face of the unknown girl was looking at him, lips full and eyes seeming to spark. He was sure to know her, and to know her very well, but couldn't pinpoint her precisely.

"I'm sure... it sounds like that, though."

"Do you remember something about her?" She asked, pointing vaguely at the pictures, finishing by the incomplete fourth.

"I'm not sure either... this broom is weird, but I can't seem to find it strange now that I drew it."

"Did you see it, or even her, in a movie or a book?"

He didn't answer, obviously considering the possible answers. After a while, she left him to his thoughts, and when she went to sleep, one hour later, he hadn't answered and was still thinking.

Sensing his discomfort, Grace let him stay home the next day. Besides, even if he didn't really know if his name was Gabriel, he remembered most of the time he spent as Gabriel. And that he had a daily work appointment at the bookstore. After helping the shopkeeper storing books and generally dusting the place, he went back to the mobile home Grace shared with him.

Once there, he reflected about books and especially the one he got some days before. For lack of better things to do, except looking at the girl drawing, he decided to read it.

After forcing himself reading for a few hours, he finally couldn't make head or tails about the more complicated methods of secretly sending and receiving messages. So he skipped most of the pages, browsing for anything of interest. The last few pages held his attention for a second, but he didn't know why. It was a mere list of other books referenced in this one, accompanied by an explanation of the referencing vocabulary. He was sure not to know any of these books, but the mere wording of the references, containing numbers and acronyms, made him reflect hard, although unsuccessfully. He almost threw the book away, when the sun, reflecting on the ring on his hand, held his eye. It was his signet ring, wasn't it? Reflecting about it, and the fact that he wasn't sure about his identity anymore, he removed it, wondering. Nobody asked him about it, and he never started a discussion about it either.

Holding it in the light, and looking it over, he noticed something written inside, in very little characters. Squinting to read it, he wrote it down to be able to understand it better.

Pb:WBk:59237 – 7Transpose;Ch:5 – Act.W: p178,w248

Now that the letters were written down, they struck with an air of familiarity. Well, only the first part. Reopening the book to the bibliography section, he browsed it again, and understood.

To gain space in heavily-referencing books that were the streak in the technology domain, a system had been designed, that identified the books using only the publisher and a unique number. And the first part of his ring's indication looked like some unknown book. He couldn't understand the rest, though.

Sighing, he put the book and the drawings on the shelf he had taken for himself and the ring back on his finger. He would have questions to ask to Mrs Marshall tomorrow.

Meanwhile, at the Burrow...

Remus Lupin had cried, like all of Harry's friends, upon hearing about his death. However, Remus Lupin, because of the habits he had acquired due his unnatural condition, was very shy. He rarely showed his emotions, and, even if he did, it was only to his close friends. And, still because of his condition, he had very little friends. He was a werewolf.

He had been bitten at the young age of five, to his parents' despair, and had learned from since, how to conceal his feelings, and how to imprison himself every month. Contrarily to what Fudge had said at one point, bitten werewolves weren't all bloodthirsty monsters. Not all the time, and not voluntarily, at least. In that regard, the use of the Wolfsbane potion was recommended to all such werewolves, as it calmed their instincts during the three nights of the full moon. All in all, the werewolf condition was easier than in the previous centuries. But there were people, as prejudiced as the former Minister of Magic, who weren't able to understand that, and almost nobody was able to consider a werewolf as friendly.

So, Remus Lupin had lived a life full of distrust, almost without friends. Only three boys were able to befriend him, during his stay at Hogwarts: James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew. They were individually known as Moony, Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail, and collectively as the infamous Marauders, pulling pranks all over the school. His friends even learnt the animagus transformation by themselves, to help him during the full moon. But, during the years, he had seen his few friends disappear: James and his wife had been killed by Voldemort, and Sirius Black has been imprisoned after killing Peter Pettigrew and a few muggles. Or so he had thought. The summer had been full of surprises.

Soon after having been told to look after his friend's son Harry, he had learned his death. And, shortly thereafter, Dumbledore had informed him of Sirius' innocence. Afterwards, the Headmaster had given the fact to Amelia Bones and the press, thus publicly releasing the information. His friend Sirius Black was innocent! The problem was that, a few days before that release, said friend escaped from Azkaban, being the first to do so, and he had been unreachable since then.

Then, there has been the announcement of Fudge's demise, for which he had been thankful; and Malfoy's campaign, for which he had been anxious. Looking back, the summer really looked like a roller coaster, with its ups and downs.

In the meantime, as Dumbledore had asked, he had visited the Weasley a few times, to chat a little bit with Ginny, about the Chamber and her recovery. The visits weren't easy for both, because it always brought the subject of Harry up. She didn't have problems going over her possession, but still was only half-convinced of Harry's death, and he was still unable to convince her otherwise. They generally went to the light forest near the Burrow, thinking and calmly discussing recent events. Sometimes, they got the impression of being watched, but dismissed it after nothing had happened.

That afternoon, they had decided to go in the forest, as usual. Ron, in his faraway voice, told them to beware of wolves, and both of them had shot him an annoyed look. Ginny knew of Remus' condition, because of their mutual understanding and his admission. That didn't bother her, though, unlike her brother's comment. But they discussed about that, too, and both found Ron's general attitude strange and worrying. They then talked about Remus' youth and his friends. The topic quickly returned to the Potters, and then to Dumbledore recent discovery about their secret keeper.

At one point, the conversation between the two became a little strained, because of the feeling of being watched. They stopped talking, taking in their surroundings. The light forest wasn't generally infested with dark or dangerous creatures, so they didn't think that any danger would get to them. Still, the feeling of uneasiness pushed them to stand and get ready for anything. As soon as they were upright, a large wolf-like beast pounced on Remus from behind the largest tree around. Even being a werewolf, with superior strength, agility, and senses, Remus didn't seem to be able to dodge the attack, and he fell on his back, the creature atop him.

Ginny shrieked "Remus!" and was ready to attack the beast herself, or to flee. But the sound coming from the two creatures fighting on the ground made her stop, disturbed so much that she thought she was dreaming.

Remus was laughing.

She stumbled back and, her foot catching on a root, she fell on her behind, too stunned to react. True, Ron had warned them about wolves, but... wait a minute! Since when had Ron taken on divination? She definitely had to ask someone competent about Ron. Perhaps Dumbledore himself...

Looking towards the fight, she noticed that what she thought as being a wolf was in fact a large black dog, and it was licking the face and neck of Remus, making him laugh, and call a name. "Padfoot! Stop!"

So that meant that Remus knew the grim-like creature... Still in shock about Ron's supposed ability, Ginny abruptly remembered him speaking about a Grim before. Could it be the same dog? She had to ask Remus, as he seemed to know it. Said Remus was standing up, the dog running around him in what seemed good-natured dog joy, when suddenly, the sight in front of her changed once more, and instead of a dog, a man was standing. He was lanky and appeared famished. His hair was dishevelled and his beard untrimmed. But he seemed happy nonetheless. He and Remus hugged themselves like very old friends, long separated.

Feeling she was intruding, and somewhat stunned at the display, Ginny merely indicated that she was going back to the Burrow, before leaving the pair in the clearing, still hugging, and in tears. They seemed to have much to discuss. Once back in the Burrow, Ron called after her.

"Hi Gin. How's the mutt today?"

A silence, then, squinting her eyes, she answered. "How did you know?"

"You didn't watch the signs. He was there this morning, remember?" And he turned back towards his chess game. Having nobody to play with anymore, he was moving his pieces aimlessly on the board. Ginny understood the underlying meaning of his sentence. He had obviously seen the dog around Diagon Alley. Taking pity of his brother's state, and ashamed at the family's reaction to it, she proposed a few games, that he readily accepted. He lost them, though, but she was delighted to see that he enjoyed the games so much that he was smiling the whole time.

A short time afterwards, it was dinner time, and the Weasleys were gathered around the table, when Remus and the other man stumbled through the door.

"Remus! And... who are you, sir?" Arthur asked, pleased to see the werewolf, but wary of the unkempt man, even if he and Remus seemed good friends.

The man muttered something and blushed, coughed a little, and, seeming to brace himself for a bad reaction, repeated louder. "Sirius Black."

There was a shocked silence in the kitchen, only interrupted after a few seconds by Ron's "told ya."

Arthur then rose, smiling, and extended his hand towards the pardoned convict. "Nice to meet you, finally. Sorry for all this time, that bloody Minister covered it very well."

"I know, sir. Remus just told me everything he knew. From Harry... " a short pause, filled with emotion, then "...to the letter proving my innocence."

"Please, call me Arthur. Here are my wife Molly, and kids Percy, Fred and George, Ron, and Ginny. We were all distressed by all... that happened. But now, everything will be fine. Even that Malfoy mess is sorted, after all."

"What Malfoy mess?" everyone asked, curious. Most had known about Lucius Malfoy running for Minister, but they supposed the man had been elected and were bracing for the worst coming the next day.

"Didn't I tell you?" Arthur's eyes were filling with mischief, a proof that some of his offsprings' attitude wasn't entirely educational.

A pause, then indignant voices filled the room. "No! You didn't! Now spill it already!"

Smiling, he held his hands up, trying to appease them. "Well, I wanted to wait for tomorrow's papers..."

"Since you know, you'd better tell, now." Molly's voice hinted at some personal punishment for keeping them in the dark. He visibly gulped, and started to relate Draco Malfoy's identification. Needless to say, everyone was happy to hear such news. Especially Remus.

After the laughter, caused by the recounting of the last scene, died down, Ron talked, and surprised everybody once more. "Congratulations, dad. You'll do fine."

A startled Arthur acknowledged his son taking part of the conversation. He noticed the glance Ginny shot her brother, and answered. "How do you know, Ron?"

"Know what, dear? Did you forget something?" Molly was still demanding.

"Well, as the wizarding law states..." Arthur interrupted himself, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Well, better spill it, dad..." Fred started.

"...as Mom won't be patient for long." George finished.

Seeming to gather his courage before a free fall, Arthur finally spilled it in one go. "I'll be Minister."

That astounded everyone, except Ron, and Ginny, who was looking at Ron again, awe in her eyes. She was quite sure, now, that her brother was sometimes having glimpses of the future, or at least, of the true nature of things.

"I'm sorry? I think I didn't hear correctly?" Molly tentatively asked.

Arthur explained. "When the elected Minister is detected as a fraud during the induction ceremony, he is stripped of the position, and can't work in a Ministry position anymore. The Minister position is given to the second in line, regarding the percentage of votes. I was second, remember?"

"Dad's going to be Minister..." started George in awe.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, brother mine?" answered Fred, equally in awe.

Molly, seeing the look the twins exchanged, quickly interrupted. "Young men, if you think you are going to abuse your father's position, you are greatly mistaken."

Everybody laughed at the disgruntled looks the twins were now displaying.

The next day, in a certain bookstore...

"Yes, dear, put all those ruddy books over here. I want to get rid of them, so we'll have a discount sale soon. I'd rather have more books for the children. After all, the store wasn't making much money anyway. I always wondered how dad made it through." Mathilda Marshall ranted, while dusting the shelves that her aid Gabriel had just emptied of old tomes.

They had met at 8am, as promised, and had worked non-stop for a whole hour. Reluctant to accept his help at first, the plump woman was soon relieved of the work the two of them were doing together. At the end, they shared a hot mint tea in the back of the store. Gabriel still didn't want to speak about the corner where the strange shelf was, which the woman hadn't dusted as thoroughly as the rest. But he had questions, though.

"Can I ask a question?"

"Why, yes my dear, of course."

"See, I read that book you... I mean you father... well... gave me."

"Yes?"

"I found a reference, but I can't make heads or tails from it. Here it is."

He gave her a sheet of paper on which he had properly re-written the content of his ring. She frowned, then asked him to follow her to the counter, where she explained.

"You see, it appears that the reference uses the system made for technology-oriented books. See, here is the publisher acronym," she said, pointing towards the first part, "and here is the book number in the publisher's records." she finished, showing the second part.

She then took a book from under the counter. "This will help us. It contains the publishers, by acronyms, and lists their address and other interesting details. You don't think that we book sellers didn't have a catalogue of every publishers, now do you?"

Humming to herself, she glanced at Gabriel's paper, then went through the book, and found something. She frowned, though, and turned some more pages. And then some others, keeping a finger in the pages that she read. Finally, she looked up towards an anxiously waiting Gabriel, and explained.

"The reference you gave me must be very old, because the publishing house had been dismantled a long time ago. Their name was Wilson and Turner. This catalogue had an entry on them, though, even if I never heard about them before. They had been bought back by another publisher in the seventies, and then by another, a few years ago. The publishing house that may advise you, though... I'm not sure if they are going to be of any help."

"What do you mean?"

"Well... they don't have any reference at all. You see, in that column," she points somewhere in the book, "you can read the number of references available for a given publisher. And it states zero."

Gabriel was stunned. He wanted to know, and felt that his past was calling to him through the ring. Sighing, he asked. "I'll go there and ask anyway. What's their name and address?"

"I'll write it down." and she wrote the publisher's name and address on the paper that Gabriel had given her.

Gabriel thanked her, before taking his leave. Once in the street, he threw a glance at the paper before stowing it in his pocket. The name wasn't speaking to him at all. Who was this Lucius Malfoy anyway?

Hogwarts, Headmaster office...

"Thank you, Minerva."

"My pleasure, Albus. I'll let you take possession of your desk once more, as I'm sure you want to replace all your items correctly." Her arm moved to encompass the desk where Dumbledore's trinkets had been moved around for her to work efficiently while he was away.

"Ahem... Minerva, we have only a few days before the start of term, but I have a few things I have to suggest, and discuss with you. Did you plan something today?"

"Today? The whole day? That must be serious, Albus. Well, I don't have anything... I mean, well... never mind, go ahead." She was blushing now, something any mischievous student would kill to have a picture of.

"Okay. First things first, were there any significant problems during my leave?"

"Apart from the signing and form-filling, only the Granger's Notifier going off. Severus accepted to go there, and, as he didn't report, I don't know of the result."

"Well, he was quite taken by myself at some point. We should ask him later. Anything else?"

"No."

"Well. Did you find the work daunting? Unbearable? Tiresome?"

"It wasn't daunting nor unbearable, as I knew of some of it before. But it was sure tiresome. Why?"

A silence. Then he spoke again.

"Would you mind doing it again?"

"Anytime you want, Albus, just tell me beforehand, and I can replace you for a week or so..."

"No, Minerva. I wanted to know if you could replace me permanently."

"Oh. Oh! Albus! You wouldn't..."

"I'm tired, Minerva. The whole summer wore me down so much that I could sleep for a week, if I had the leisure. I could assist you doing it, of course. Besides, I don't know of anyone being more qualified than you are, and who would know this school more than you."

"Are you certain, Albus? I mean... are you going to cope being placed in the background? Knowing you, you will come to haunt me at times, surely."

"I wouldn't miss that. But I'm sure. I could take over your teaching, until you find another and younger teacher."

"Oh, that's right, I didn't think of that. Poor students..."

"Poor students?"

"Sorry, Albus, I didn't say that about you. Well, perhaps..."

"Hey!"

"Just joking."

"I didn't know you could joke."

"It sure comes with the job of Headmistress. I hope you don't lose that trait, though."

"Don't worry, I won't."

"Now that it's settled, did you have other things to discuss about?"

"In fact, yes. Do you remember the letter I found from Harry's parents? It cleared Sirius Black from his wrongful imprisonment, and, as I told you I wanted to add a course in physical education, I wondered about asking him to teach it."

"Albus, you can't be serious! You want me to recruit Sirius Black in the staff? He was a Marauder, for Merlin's sake!"

"I know, but I don't actually want anything. You are the Headmistress now, and you'll take the good decision, I know it. Besides, from what Remus told me this morning, he came out of hiding and ate dinner with the Weasleys yesterday. He's going to heal from his incarceration, but I felt the human contact will help him to do so."

"Hmmm... yes. And you told me also that Remus Lupin wanted to teach?"

"Yes. I thought he would do fine in teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts. Even despite his unusual condition. I have something to tell you about Severus, too..."

"Yes?"

"He had asked several times to teach Defence, and I refused each time. Do you know why?"

"Well... I thought he was under-qualified in the field. I never saw him in a duel, though."

"He's not under-qualified at all. But he never told me his real reasons for wanting the position. He always spoke about giving the students a chance against the external world, which was tugging at my heart, but I know he was lying about that."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, but I could have given him the position if his motives had been truthful, so, if he asks you about it, if you could take that into account..."

"I'll do, Albus, thanks. Thanks for him, anyway. I wasn't going to give him a chance, believing that you never did."

"Well, then...perhaps we are finished?"

"Actually, Albus, I wanted to know about young Malfoy... well, even if he's not young anymore."

"Do you know about what happened during the Minister induction?"

"Yes, I have been told about it. I was more asking if he was going to continue his education."

"Obviously, he can't continue here at Hogwarts. Not only because of his advanced age. Let me tell you some of what transpired about him.

When he was to be inducted Minister, we made him drink a potion which restored his mind to its rightful state, nullifying all mind-altering effect that was on him. And we found something disturbing. All his life, from a young age, his father had repeatedly obliviated him. Lucius was forging his son under his will, and the boy's mind had never been right. It might even have disturbed Alastair's judgement."

"Alastair?"

"The Sorting Hat."

"You mean the thing has a name?"

"Yes, and a fiery personality too. You should put it on, someday, to have a chat with him. It's quite instructing. Well... where was I?"

"Young Draco being obliviated and his sorting."

"Ah, yes. When he took the potion and retrieved his mind, he asked for immediate protections, and the persons of his retinue were furious. Nott and MacNair even drew their wand towards him, but several Aurors present arrested them.

In a more private setting, he then proceeded to tell us everything: the Malfoy allegiance to the Dark Lord; the names of numerous influent wizards under Voldemort's thumb; even the name of some shops in Knockturn Alley that are doing illegal and dangerous business. The Ministry had insight about all his revelations, but he confirmed it all. Needless to say, with Arthur Weasley as Minister, and..."

"Arthur Weasley? Albus, I didn't receive the Prophet here..."

"It's not in the Prophet yet. After Draco's demise, he got the position, being the next one in the votes count. But he sure has the intention of straightening the Ministry. He even told me that his son was to rearrange and simplify the laws concerning magical creatures. I recall both Arthur and Percy started in the Creatures department, and they know about that stuff better than I do.

To continue with the story: Amelia Bones has been given free reign of arresting, interrogating, and imprisoning the disclosed Death Eaters, I'm sure Voldemort's ranks are now very reduced, in numbers and in power. We even got the address of places where he resided at some point. Some Aurors are keeping a tight watch on them.

Arthur, Amelia and I decided that we could disclose the names of the imprisoned Death Eaters, but not the ones who hadn't been caught. I don't want some self-righteous wizard to check on them and die because of it. After all, most of the Death Eaters are supposedly better in fighting than the average wizard."

"Why didn't you ask Severus, or Fudge, for this information, Albus? And why didn't we try to imprison Lucius earlier? After all, the man was quite a nuisance, since as long as I remember him."

"Well... Severus gave me a list when Voldemort fell, twelve years ago, and we have arrested many of them straightaway. But some house had been booby-trapped, and several Aurors died in the capture wave. The information provided by Draco proved that the list was also out-of-date. And Fudge didn't know many of them, only the most politically influent.

About Lucius... it's partly my fault. When he was younger, I always thought that he would correct himself, but, after he graduated, I noticed that, instead of bettering at the contact of others, he was worsening them. At that time, though, I couldn't do anything, because he was already corrupting many politicians. I owe my continued existence and Headmaster position to the fact that I was already Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot at that time. Why do you think I kept that annoying position?"

"Because you like meetings with decrepit wizards and witches?"

"I didn't you could joke with that, Minerva."

"You still don't know me very well, Albus."

"I agree. Still, I don't know anyone that would know better than I am."

"So true. Now, can you continue with the story? I have the feeling it's not finished."

"We didn't try to bring Lucius to a trial because of his political power. I'm not sure if the current heads of the Ministry would have cooperated, and the few that would have, would have been killed in a random accident. I didn't want that either.

After naming the Death Eaters he knew, young Draco told us that his father died in the library, without them knowing who did it. His mother forced him to drink the aging potion and to take his father's role. She has been arrested also.

Then, understanding his state in the wizarding world, he asked for his Manor to be put under the Fidelius charm. I am too tired tight now to cast the charm, especially on such a large zone, and I'll have to wait until next week, but, thanks for you taking my position, I'll manage. I put some anti-apparation charms on the place, though. It should at least be somewhat safe."

"I'm saddened to hear that he had been mentally abused for so long, Albus. We didn't even notice anything!"

"Perhaps we should try to be more observant in the future. With more free time, I sure will, don't worry about that."

"You sure will. And, Albus?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks. For everything."

"You are much welcome."

To be continued in next chapter: Back-to-school Rush...

The dark side's champion got whipped,
While the light one got equipped.
What happens next? School, you ask?
Yes, but review... ease my task.