Harry Potter and the Heir to Gondor
A Harry Potter/Lord of the Rings fusion by Andrew J. Talon
Disclaimer: This is a fanbased parody work of prose. Please support the official release.
So many things had happened so quickly this past year, so many changes. It was so overwhelming that sometimes, Dumbledore wondered if he was simply getting old. Dumbledore shook his head, a wry smile on his lips, as he looked over some paperwork authorizing an expansion in the Quidditch Budget. Fawkes was out flying, leaving him alone in the office. An early autumn breeze blew through the window, refreshing on the face of it. He needed all the help he could get in maintaining his serenity.
The wards alerted him to a visitor. He frowned in a bit of confusion as he recognized them, and mentally commanded the gargoyle to let them in. A few moments later, the doors to his office opened and a stone faced Petunia walked in. Harry followed behind, looking nervous.
Well, that was ominous.
"Good afternoon, Petunia, Harry," Dumbledore said with a gentle smile. "Sherbert lemon?"
"No, thank you," Petunia said, cold and even. He could feel the magic roiling off her aura, and Dumbledore fought to keep himself composed.
It seemed that Petunia and Lily were far more alike than even they would admit. Lily's temper too had been legendary, and she was at her most dangerous when she wasn't yelling.
"What can I do for you?" Dumbledore asked politely. Petunia slapped down a folder of parchment onto his desk with a glare. Dumbledore mentally sighed as he saw the Official Ministry Records Request label on it. He opened the folder and looked through the files, already knowing what they would contain.
"After Sirius Black was arrested and sent to Azkaban, you called for a trial in the Wizenmagot in an emergency session, true or false?" Petunia demanded, her voice hard as steel. Harry was staring between them, unsure of what was going on. Dumbledore mentally sighed, and nodded his head.
"True. I did," he said.
"In the same session," Petunia snarled, "after a closed door chat with Lucius Malfoy and Cornelius Fudge, you withdrew the call, true or false?"
Dumbledore nodded slowly.
"True. That happened, and I did," he said.
"Furthermore, any attempts by Lady Longbottom or other members of the Wizenmagot to attempt to call for a trial for Sirius Black were blocked by you. As were any attempts to open his will or other legal documents relating to his incarceration or the will of the Potters, true or false?"
Petunia's expression was stormy, her voice as cold as a blizzard. Dumbledore again nodded slowly.
"All of that is completely true," he admitted.
"And, any motions to investigate Harry's welfare, his status, anything, were also blocked by you, true or false?!"
"Completely true," Dumbledore said at last.
Petunia was nearly grinding her teeth audibly in her rage. But her voice came out even.
"Why?"
Dumbledore took a deep breath, and counted to ten mentally before he answered.
"I'm afraid that the reason for these decisions was to be kept secret," Dumbledore said. "It was part of my agreement with Mister Malfoy."
"What kind of agreement?!" Petunia demanded.
"I cannot disclose that information," Dumbledore replied calmly.
"Can't? Or won't?" Petunia nearly snarled. Dumbledore shut his eyes.
"It would be far easier to explain why I cannot than to explain why-"
It really was quite fortunate that part of the uses of dragon's blood that he and Nicholas had discovered was a tonic that allowed you to remain spry and agile even into old age. It was for that reason only that Dumbledore managed to avoid losing his genitals as Petunia sliced his desk in half.\
"Aunt Petunia!" Harry gasped.
Dumbledore stood up, hands up, eyes no longer twinkling, as Petunia pointed her sword at him.
"Petunia, please, if you'd just listen-" Dumbledore tried.
"I've had to listen to you and your damn dictates since I was a child!" Petunia growled. "I want answers, and I want them now!"
"If I told you anything, it would endanger you and Harry-!"
Dumbledore jumped back from Petunia's swing. His eyes widened, as he saw a bit of his beard flutter to the floor.
"You had a bloody basilisk running around this bloody school last year! You had Wraiths trying to suck the souls out of students this year!" Petunia raged. "You don't give a damn about the lives you ruin! About the people you harm with your ridiculous schemes-!"
"I care deeply for my students!" Dumbledore shot back, his temper rising fast.
"We're all pawns on a chessboard to you, you old goat!" Petunia snarled. "If you'd really cared, you'd have never let Harry stay with me!"
"And if you had cared," Dumbledore retorted, "he would have been safe and happy with you!"
His own magic was rising, and fought back against Petunia's aura. He had to admit, he was impressed that even after decades of neglecting her training, the fire of her Song was still very powerful. Perhaps that is why she was able to anger him so effectively.
"What's the game then?!" Petunia shot back. "You wanted to mold Harry into your perfect weapon against Riddle?! You want to use him so you can swoop in and get all the glory?! You gave him that sword, didn't you?! Just to turn him into your good little martyr! YOU DON'T CARE A WIT FOR HIM!"
"You didn't care for him until a magical oath made you!" Dumbledore retaliated, the room darkening and the floor beginning to rumble, "remember my last?!"
"STOP IT! BOTH OF YOU!"
Dumbledore and Petunia looked back in shock. Harry stood there, eyes narrowed, his hand gripping the hilt of Anduril. He looked between them in anger and disgust.
"What is this accomplishing?!" Harry demanded. "You two keep fighting over things and-and nothing will get solved! Stop it!"
Dumbledore lowered his power, as Petunia lowered her sword. He felt a small laugh erupt from his mouth, as he looked at Petunia in apology. She was still stern faced, but not murderous in her rage.
"... You're quite right, Harry," Dumbledore admitted quietly. Harry walked up to Petunia, and stared her in the eyes.
"Aunt Petunia... Thank you for caring," Harry said, "but it's not going to help anything if you just keep... Fighting everyone. Especially the Professor," he said gently. Petunia worried her lower lip, but managed a nod.
Harry then turned to Dumbledore, his eyes looking very old indeed.
"But Professor," Harry said quietly, "I am involved. It concerns my life... And my aunt's life. If you can tell us, I think I deserve to know."
Guilt had been an ever present companion for Dumbledore when it came to Harry Potter. It was no different here. He'd been able to rationalize everything away for so long, and yet... The boy had done so much. Had been chosen by Anduril. Had forgiven his aunt of all her abuses.
He closed his eyes and slowly nodded.
"Yes," he murmured, "I believe you do deserve to know."
He conjured up three armchairs in a triangle, all facing each other. Dumbledore sat in one, while Petunia and Harry took the others. Dumbledore summoned a bottle of firewhiskey, and three glasses. He poured himself one, and offered the others to Petunia and her nephew.
"No thank you," Petunia stated, "and Harry is underaged."
"Ah, quite right, quite right," Dumbledore chuckled sadly, "my apologies."
He sipped his whiskey for a bit, calming his nerves. He took a deep breath.
"While Tom's defeat broke many of his followers, it did not end the war. Not completely," Dumbledore explained. "It was not simply about blood status. It was also about a great deal of money and power. Sirius Black, as the last male heir to the House of Black, was a huge influence in the conflict. While he did not have the same talent for statecraft as his parents, he kept the Black fortunes from funding Tom entirely. That was a huge boon to us."
Dumbledore took another sip of his whiskey.
"With Tom's defeat, Sirius was poised to inherit the Black estates and become the head of the family," he said, "now that any other Black heir was either missing, or a member of the Death Eaters and thus illegible. With that power, he could keep the Black assets and fortunes, and those of any subordinate house or family, out of the hands of the Dark faction entirely. He could have gone further, dissolving the arranged marriages between any member of the Black family and their spouses. It could have broken the Pureblood Supremacist support base, or at least harmed it considerably."
Dumbledore heaved a long sigh.
"And then he went and got framed by Peter for your parents' murder," he said, nodding to Harry. Petunia's eyes widened.
"Narcissa Malfoy nee Black... Lucius' wife," Petunia murmured. Dumbledore nodded to her, the burn of the whiskey harsh on his tongue.
"You have guessed it correctly," Dumbledore stated. "Lucius met with myself and Cornelius. He still held to the fiction that he and other supporters of Tom had been under the Imperius curse-Mind controlled to do his bidding-but he intimated that if Sirius was brought to trial, and found innocent? Then the diehard supporters, those who followed him willingly, would never stop their rampages. They would fight to the last, kill hundreds and keep the conflict going. That was the best case scenario: The worst case was, it might have allowed a Death Eater so adept at disguise and deception access to immense riches, power..."
Dumbledore's eyes turned to Harry,
"Or you."
"... So you sacrificed Sirius for peace," Harry murmured, his eyes wide. Dumbledore looked down, unable to meet his gaze.
"I did, yes," Dumbledore sighed deeply. "One man's freedom... To stop a war that had already cost us so many lives."
He shut his eyes tightly.
"At the time, I believed he was guilty, like everyone else," Dumbledore admitted. "I was wrong. Later, I investigated, and had my suspicions... But nothing more than that. Lily had cast the Fidelius. It was thought that the fewer people in the know, the safer it would be. Peter worked well in the shadows, and he seemed happy with his role. There wasn't much glory, but glory in war is bittersweet at best. I thought I knew him..." He shook his head sadly.
"But if he was innocent-" Harry tried, but Dumbledore shook his head.
"Lucius in either case would not want Sirius free. If he was a Death Eater or on our side, he would be Lucius's enemy either way."
"No winning move," Petunia murmured. Dumbledore nodded sadly.
"I have made many mistakes, and made many compromises over my life, Harry," Dumbledore said, "and have many regrets. This? Sadly, is another."
Silence fell in the office. Only broken by the ticking of a grandfather clock nearby. Petunia was stony faced. Harry frowned.
"So, what happens now?" Harry asked. "If Sirius is found innocent, then-?"
"I doubt that Lucius Malfoy will try to start the war up again," Dumbledore said, "for one? He is older and wiser. He has gained much, and restarting the conflict at this point would ensure he lost it. While he is close to the Minister, his power is not infinite. This may help in easing tensions... Though it all depends on Sirius revealing himself."
"It does," Petunia admitted. She slowly rose to her feet, and nodded.
"Thank you," she said. Dumbledore nodded back.
"It's the least I can do, for Harry," he said. Harry stared at him for a time, and nodded slowly.
"I don't like it," Harry said, "but I understand why you did it. I'm not happy but... Yeah. Yeah, I get it."
He stood up, and shook his head.
"I don't think I'd have made the same decision though," Harry said., "I'd have found another way."
Dumbledore chuckled.
"No doubt. Even so... Pray that you never have to be in such a situation, Harry," he said.
Harry nodded. He turned and headed out. Petunia followed, closing the doors behind her.
Dumbledore sighed, and poured another firewhiskey for himself. He knew Poppy and Minerva would both scold him, but the beauty of alcohol was that he wouldn't care.
At least for a little while.
Because nobody's come up with this explanation for why Dumbledore never gave Sirius a trial, so why not this?