Harry asked Alduin about the Black's lack of trial as soon as he found an opportunity, and found Alduin frowning in confusion. "It's true I've never read any trial report," he said, "but..."

"It's true enough," Alexandra interrupted. "There never was a trial."

"What? Why?" Alduin seemed outraged.

"Well, I do not know for sure, of course, but..." Alexandra made a face of slight distaste. "Sirius had a seat on Wizengamot and was a head of a powerful family. There are plenty of reasons why someone might have wanted him safely locked up."

"Someone?" Alduin asked pointedly. "It was Bartemius Crouch directing those arrests, wasn't it?"

She gave a minute nod. "Yes, it was."

"Do you think he feared Sirius might know more dirt on his son?" Alduin wondered.

"Entirely possible, I suppose. I mean, they were close in age..."

"Yes, but Barty never talked to Sirius. They couldn't stand each other," Alduin pointed out.

"As far as you know," Alexandra replied pointedly. "You didn't know they were Riddle's men either, did you? Particularly Black. It's not unlikely at all that they were co-conspirators in some way or another. My personal guess is that it was convenient for Bartemius to have him locked up without speaking publicly, and he arranged it with some noble Wizengamot members who much preferred the Black family without any influence."

Alduin frowned as he thought about it. "Any particular tips?"

Alexandra tilted her head to the side. "Well, the Longbottoms despised them, but everyone but Frank was dead by that point, and this wasn't Frank's style. And Augusta herself couldn't have arranged it."

Alduin, meanwhile, seemed to have been musing about something else. "Wait...is it possible that the thing the Smiths pulled with Barty...could it have been revenge for Sirius? Adele's husband was Sirius' cousin after all, and Gideon and Sirius were always on good terms..."

"Entirely possible, I suppose," Alexandra conceded.

"I need to ask Nathan, he is the most likely to know," Alduin decided. "He was actually capable of paying attention at the time. The Princes are another option of who was behind Sirius, I suppose."

"And the Greengrasses. Don't forget that."

Alduin nodded grimly. "Dumbledore might have played a part, too. He wouldn't have wanted to tout his mistake too publicly."

During this entire back and forth, Harry sat there, feeling extremely confused, unable to follow the quick recitation of speculation and family connections. When his cousins seemed to pause in their theories for a moment, however, he ventured: "So...you really think all these people we meet regularly at parties could have had a hand in putting an innocent man in prison?"

"I never said he was innocent, Harry," Alduin replied. "I don't believe it for a minute. There was very strong evidence pointing to his guilt, I do know that much. I think they all believed he was guilty. They only used this fact to their maximum advantage. A trial is always a risk, after all, extenuating circumstances might be discovered...many people will take the easier route when available to them."

Harry furrowed his brow. "And you? Would you do it?" He demanded.

"If I believed it necessary to ensure the safety of my family? Yes," Alduin replied without a hesitation. "But only then."

Harry frowned into his lunch.

"Harry," Alduin said, "do you seriously mean to tell me that you wouldn't put a man you fully believe to be guilty of murder many times over into prison without a trial if you believed the trial in question could endanger Wynn?"

Harry stabbed his potato angrily. "I guess, when you put it that way, I probably would. But that was not the situation those people were in, was it?"

"No, but you were frowning at what I said," Alduin pointed out.

"Well, it's still...wrong in a way, isn't it?" Harry muttered.

Alduin shrugged. "It's certainly not entirely right, but then, we do not live in a perfect world."

"That's not a real reason!" Harry exploded. "You can't just – just wave away the bad things that happen because...bad thing shouldn't happen! If if they do something should be done about them!"

Alduin was clearly taken aback, and only looked at him for a moment as Harry fought to calm down. "Harry, what brought this on?" He asked then. "I didn't think you'd be this upset about Black being put in prison."

"It's not that," Harry muttered, now feeling ashamed. "It's his escape. I'm just so angry whenever I think about him, and I wish I could do something about him, you know?"

Alduin raised his eyebrow. "I certainly never defended what Black did. Doing bad things under the threat of death is one thing, and betraying friends is another. Such things are not forgiven. But as for doing something about it..." Alduin gave him a long look. "Did I ever tell you what my great-grandfather told me just before he died, after my parents and grandparents were killed?"

"No?"

"He begged me to stop waging that war, at least until I got married and had a child to continue the family line. But I wanted to take out my anger on the side of the war that killed my parents, so I didn't listen to his dying wish." He shrugged. "I've regretted it ever since I woke up from the coma. Vengeance is not always wrong, but it's pointless to attempt it when you're weak. You'd just get killed. If the Ministry catches Black, good. If they don't, wait until you are older and better trained. Then you can go after him, if you still want to. Then you'll have a chance to survive."

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Not too long after Harry's birthday, Ron came into the Manor once again with a triumphant smile on his face. "Guess what?"

"What?" Harry asked, even though he had a very good idea.

"I won't actually have to share a broom with Ginny! She'll get her own for her birthday, and I got some second-hand Nimbus 2000 my parents got somewhere as a bargain."

Harry nodded and tried not to look too uncomfortable. He had suggested giving Ron his old broom to Alduin, who explained again how many people felt about charity and then went and offered the broom to Mr. Weasley for a ridiculously low price that, he said, he'd give the man back by arranging a salary premium for him soon enough. Harry was a little surprised Ron hadn't figured it out, but he was probably too elated to have a decent broom to think about it too much. The broom was given a face-lift before Alduin gave it away, too, so it wasn't easy to recognize.

"It's nothing to your Firebolt, of course," Ron continued. "Can I fly it today, by the way? But still, it's pretty decent, and with a broom like that I actually stand a chance to make the team one day..."

Neville, who knew about the entire thing, gave Harry a look, but refrained from commenting.

"Sure, yeah, of course you can fly the Firebolt," Harry said hastily. "Let's go outside, okay? Maybe Wynn will come to watch later."

Ron made a face. "Do you have to always have your little brother with you?"

Harry gave him an unfriendly look, immediately feeling less guilty about the Nimbus business. "I like to spend time with him," he said.

"Wynn is great," Neville agreed.

"It's the only children speaking," Ron murmured. "If you had six siblings, you wouldn't think it was so great."

Neville and Harry exchanged a look. Sometimes, Ron could still be so incredibly insensitive it was astonishing.

"The Shacklebolts were here yesterday," he said to change the topic, "and I talked to Kiara. Do you know that Dobby started some kind of movement among the elves there?"

"Who?" Ron asked, confused.

"The elf that warned us about the diary last summer," Harry explained. "I told you he now worked for the Shacklebolts, remember? Apparently he started some movement for better elf rights."

Ron snorted. "Well, I hope it never gets to our elf. The last thing I want is him refusing to work just after we got him."

Harry frowned at him. "Why, do you treat him badly?"

"What? No!" Ron said, defensive. "But he has a lot of work over the summer when we're all there, especially with Bill and Charlie home now, and Mum's always arguing with him because she wants to cook and he thinks it's his job, so really, I wouldn't be too surprised if he told us to piss off if this Dobby got to him."

Harry laughed. "I don't think elves tell their families to piss off so easily," he said. "From what I heard, it took quite a lot for Dobby to break away from the Malfoys."

"Yeah, well, you didn't hear the way him and Mum are sniping at each other," Ron muttered. "He was all subservient when he came, but I can tell you, once he realized Mum intended to keep cooking herself, that changed real quick."

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When Alduin came home from the meeting with Hogwarts governors Lucius arranged for him, his anger must have been plainly visible, because Alexandra turned from her game with Harry and Wynn to give him a look of concern. "What happened?" She asked. "Did Lucius double-cross you?"

"Oh no, nothing like that." The cooperation had actually been surprisingly smooth so far, and especially so since Alduin mentioned how much Harry liked Draco in that interview for Harry's thirteenths birthday, right around the time the allegations about the Malfoys and Sirius Black started to flow.

"What is it, then?"

"Dumbledore, for one," Alduin spat. "Kettleburn is retiring, and the old man decided that Hagrid would be a great teacher in his place."

"You have got to be joking."

Harry frowned. "Hagrid isn't that bad-" he began.

"I'm sure he isn't, Harry," Alduin replied, "but the man never finished Hogwarts. He didn't even pass his OWLs. How did Dumbledore think it was going to fly, I have no idea." Put like that, Harry had to admit Alduin had a point. Why did Hagrid never finish Hogwarts, he wondered?

"Lucius managed to stop this insane plan from taking place," Alduin continued, "but seriously, is the headmaster mad?"

"Quite possibly," Alexandra nodded. "There have been other signs. But you said 'for one,' so there must be something else?"

"Oh yes. Something else indeed," Alduin said with biting sarcasm. "Given their inability to capture Black, the Ministry now 'proposed' – that is to say, insisted on – heightened security around Hogwarts. They are going to station Dementors at the gate."

Alexandra blinked several times. "Alduin, have you perhaps been drinking?" She asked then. "There is no way the things you are telling me are true. No sane person would ever condone stationing Dementors around a school."

"What makes you think Fudge is sane?" Alduin asked bitterly. "He and Dumbledore should start a club, really, though by all accounts Dumbledore is furious about this, and flat out refused to have Dementors inside the school grounds."

Alexandra snorted. "Someone actually suggested that?"

"Yes. Like I said, insane."

"What are Dementors?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Some of the darkest creatures that exist," Alduin replied, his thoughts returning to the dark place they've dwelt since he heard the news. The idea of voluntarily sending his ward to a castle guarded by Dementors sounded absurd, but he knew Harry well enough by now to know he'd never agree to be home-schooled for however long they'd stay. "They guard Azkaban, normally, but now some of them are looking for Black...and come September, they will be around Hogwarts." He shook his head. "I'll have to speak with Kingsley."

"If Fudge decided this, he can hardly change it," Alexandra pointed out.

"No – that's not why I want to talk to him."

Why he did became obvious the very same evening, when after dinner, Alduin took Harry aside and said: "Harry, I have a suggestion for you. The Dementors, as I said, are very dark and dangerous. They prey on happiness, suck it out until only despair and one's worst memories are left."

Harry shuddered. "And that's supposed to be guarding Hogwarts?"

"Yes. You see why I was so shocked to learn that? The idea of having a Dementor close to any child is alarming, but you...well, you've had some bad experiences in you life, to put it mildly, and so they would affect you particularly strongly, compared to most other students."

Great, Harry thought. Because clearly, Black going after him wasn't enough trouble for one year. With his luck, Black would find him with Dementors on his heels, and then Harry would have the choice of which menace would eliminate him first.

"I'd like you to be able to protect yourself against them," Alduin continued. "There is a spell that makes it possible. It's a very difficult one, but all of your Defense teachers – the capable ones, anyway – tell me you have exceptional talent in that department. I think you have a chance."

"I definitely want to try," Harry agreed. "Can we do it now, or do you want to wait till tomorrow during training?"

Alduin, however, shook his head. "I can do the spell," he explained, "but just barely, and it takes a lot out of me. I wouldn't be very good at teaching you this, so I won't. Kingsley will."

And so, the next day, Harry was at the Shacklebolts, standing next to Kiara and Maurice and listening to Mr. Kingsley explaining the Patronus charm.

He had never known a spell so difficult in his life.

At first, it seemed easy enough. Think of a happy memory...Harry considered Alduin coming to get him from the Dursleys, but he had mostly been confused then. Getting his Hogwarts letter? But he had known that would come.

In the end, he settled on the feeling of a won Quidditch game and after a few attempts, produced silver mist, not too long after Maurice did. It took Kiara a while longer, but in the end, she succeeded in that too.

"See you again tomorrow," Mr. Kingsley said, "we'll continue working."

The next day, Katie Bell was there too, being brought by Kiara, and that inspired Maurice to bring his friend Jacob and Harry to bring Neville and Ron the day after that. For a week, they worked in this way, and by its end, Harry, Maurice and Jacob were able to produce not only mist, but actual silvery forms: animals.

Maurice's seemed to be some kind of tiger, Jacob's was apparently a wolverine...and Harry's was a stag.

It was such a beautiful thing. Harry felt cheered just by looking at it. He understood why it would be good protection against the Dementors, if they were supposed to bring unhappiness with them.

But then Mr. Kingsley upped the ante and made the room they trained in magically dark, and full of strange noises and mist and wailing. It became harder to remember his happy memory when Harry was faced with what sounded like someone in terrible pain.

"What memory are you using?" Mr. Kingsley asked him after Harry repeatedly failed to produce anything but mist.

"Winning at Quidditch," Harry replied.

"Hmm. You might try for something a bit deeper. Deep-seated happiness works best for this, it is harder to take it away from you."

Harry considered this advice, thought about what it meant to have 'deep-seated happiness', and searched his memories...and thought of Wynn, running towards him on his little chubby legs and calling 'Awy, Awy.' And the stag burst out from his wand, as bright as ever, chasing the darkness away.