DISCLAIMER: That part of this world and those characters you've seen before belong to their Creator: JKR. The rest is mine - although I cannot quit my day job as I make no $$$
A/N: Finally! As I said, I am travelling right now so this is later than usual. Chapter 4 we ARE off to Hogwarts! (At least we will be when I write it…)
CHAPTER THREE: A DARK FUTURE
TUESDAY, AUGUST 6th, 1991 – POTTER HOUSE, LONDON, U.K.
Harry was seated at the table eating his breakfast and reading through the morning issue of The Daily Prophet. He knew the paper was mostly rubbish. The non-magicals at Office W of MI-5 called it "Magical Pravda" which meant that it was like the official newspaper of the Soviet Union, which somehow still managed to exist when the rest of Eastern Europe broke away almost two years earlier. Pravda was little more than the propaganda daily of the communist government, which was an apt description of the Daily Prophet and one that was growing in the Magical world. It was called that by many people Harry knew and was the popular name used by most of the children and families of The Club.
For "real" news they waited for The Quibbler. True, it did publish reports on the fantastical, such as the most recent sightings of creatures no one else had seen, but when it published "news" or political commentary it was about as unbiased a publication as there was in Magical Britain. Then again, Harry thought, he could be biased as one of his best friends was Luna Lovegood, the daughter of the publisher.
"Morning Harry," Hermione said taking her usual seat right next to him.
"Morning."
"They publish the class lists for Hogwarts yet?"
Harry nodded. "Today's edition."
"Am I in it?" another voice asked. Harry saw it was his sister Clarice.
Harry nodded. "And Luna."
"So it seems they never figured out we're technically too young." Clarice added as she sat down.
"So? How many?"
"Forty-one," Harry replied. "Says here it's one of the smallest classes Hogwarts ever had."
"How many are ours?" Hermione asked.
"Twenty-two including us," Harry said, "over half."
"Muggle Borns?"
Harry knew she meant those "Muggle Borns" who were not already part of the Club. "Four for certain."
"Isn't it a bit early for the list?" Clarice asked. "I mean Aunt Minnie said it's usually published the first Monday after August 10th."
"Maybe the fact that the class is so small has something to do with it," Hermione suggested.
"Or that Dumbledore person," Harry opined. "He might have hoped I'd show up in Diagon Alley when the main rush occurs and he'd be able to find me or something."
"Good thing we went yesterday, then," Clarice said. "By the way, is it just me or was that wand guy totally off? And what was that about the scar? You no longer have it Harry."
Harry shrugged. "He seemed to remember 'Harry Potter' moments after he read my Hogwarts letter. Clearly he remembered that Boy-Who-Lived rubbish. Probably assumed I have a scar somewhere."
"All the drawings of The-Boy-Who-Lived had it right," Hermione noted, "as it was on your forehead."
"And none of the artists ever met me that I know of," Harry said. "Artistic license, I suppose. If my most distinguishing feature was supposed to be a scar, where would you put it in a drawing? My bum? The man clearly was not looking for one when he said it. My guess is he assumed it was somewhere under my clothes."
"Good point," Clarice said.
"What bothered me," Harry continued, "was that I wound up with the same wand Sensei had in his timeline."
"Why?"
"It means not enough has changed," Harry said.
"Either that or your magical signature had nothing to do with anything that happened to you," Hermione suggested. "It could be that had none of the past happened, you still would have been matched with that wand."
"One can hope it's that simple," Harry said with an unsure smile.
TUESDAY, AUGUST 6th, 1991 – MALFOY MANOR, U.K.
"So he is alive," the older man said staring at his paper.
"Father?" the man's eleven year old near carbon copy of a son replied.
"It would seem, Draco, you will have a most interesting classmate at Hogwarts."
The boy looked at his father without understanding.
"One Harry Potter."
"So? So there's a kid named after a comic book? So what?"
"Actually, it is the other way around, Draco," the father said. "Harry Potter is or was quite real and later the comic book character was named after him."
"A kid who really fights dragons?" Draco asked in disbelief.
"Doubtful," his father replied. "But it was once widely believed that the boy defeated our Dark Lord when no one else could."
"Probably a lie," Draco said.
"Indeed," his father agreed. "Our world chose to believe the lie for a time. They might well believe it again. Hence, he might be a valuable – er – connection. What better way to hide our true agenda than to curry favor and cultivate a friendship with the boy who allegedly ended the Dark Lord's rise. Aligning with him might well restore some of our lost luster."
"You want me to make friends with him? Is he a Pureblood? A believer?"
"Alas, no as to either. He's a Half-blood whose family most assuredly opposed our cause."
"Why would I want anything to do with that? Next thing, you'll marry me off to a mudblood!"
"If in so doing our cause is advanced, it is a small sacrifice to make, Draco. My unfortunate incarceration has cost both this family and our cause. An alliance with this … person … could begin to restore us to our rightful position in society."
Draco knew there was no room for argument. Whenever his father raised the specter of their societal status, there was no depth to which the family would not stoop if it advanced their agenda. His mother was living and breathing proof of that. She was a consolation prize and living proof that his heroic Aunt Bella was the exception and not the rule in that family. The only difference between his mother and Aunt Andromeda the Blood Traitor was his mother did her duty and married his father. It was clear, however, she was deep down as much a Blood Traitor as her sister. If father wanted Draco to make friends with the brat, he would. Nothing required him to enjoy rolling in the mud with pigs.
SUNDAY, AUGUST 14th, 1991 – POTTER HOUSE, LONDON, U.K.
"Harry?" Hermione asked seeing the dark head of hair. She was in the garden and had been looking for her best friend for a while now. He had not been seen since breakfast.
"Oh," the boy turned. "Hi Hermione."
"You okay?" she asked with concern.
Harry shrugged.
"This is about what Sensei said last night, isn't it?" she asked.
"What he reminded us about," Harry sighed. "You know I had forgotten about that."
"I hadn't," Hermione said. "To be honest, it has bothered me since the time he first mentioned it."
"I figured as much," Harry sighed.
"How so?"
"'Cause you didn't say anything when I acted like it was no big deal."
"That didn't bother me, Harry. It was still a long way off and I knew you were – well, it wasn't real yet. It does bother me that it might be necessary."
"I know," Harry said. "Still, Now it's no longer years in our future. Months, weeks, maybe less and I'll have to do it. You know what we were taught in Japan. We can be weapons. I know how to kill a person both with magic and without and with a weapon or without. However, it's one thing to know how to kill a man; it's quite another to actually do it. Unless something changes, I'll have to do it."
"It's possible that the timeline has changed, even that far away from the source of change," Hermione said. "Quirrell might not be possessed by Voldemort or the possession might not be fully active, or…"
"Only a truly dormant possession would give the man any chance," Harry said softly. "That was the only reason I survived the ritual that got rid of the soul fragment."
"I know, Harry," Hermione said. "I was there, remember? And every day since I am glad you survived."
"Thanks."
"Besides, it's not as if you have to kill him…"
"What do you mean? Of course I do!"
"Sensei did not say you had to, Harry. He only said that if Quirrell is possessed, he must die."
"But…"
"Can you do any of this alone, or do you want help?"
"I … I'd rather … I'd rather be one of many than just the one, Hermione."
Hermione nodded. "We don't know everything about Sensei's life, about the Harry Potter that might have been had Daddy not almost run you over with the car that day. But what do we know?"
Harry shrugged.
"That Harry had help, but he didn't want it. Not really. Not if his friends would be in danger too. He held stuff back from them. He held stuff back from himself. In the end it was mostly just him and in the end he failed because no one person could have succeeded. In the end, he was a little like the man who created him."
"Dumbledore."
"Yes, Harry. Dumbledore. And Dumbledore trusted that Harry so much he did not tell Harry much of anything, really."
Harry nodded. What little he knew of this Dumbledore suggested that the man kept far more secret than was prudent.
"But that Harry did trust the mysterious and all knowing Dumbledore…"
"Who was not all knowing," Harry said. "He made mistakes. His worst one was the one that Harry missed. That Harry's mistake was trusting in the infallibility of one quite fallible man."
"And billions died who did not have to," Hermione said. "You don't have to be the one to do everything, Harry."
"Still, I or we are left with the problem of Quirrell."
Hermione nodded. "One of us will have to kill him."
"What? Hold on! What happened? Back in the fall of '89 you went practically mental when we exhumed all of Tom Riddle's male ancestors' remains and cremated them when we burned Riddle Manor to the ground! That was nothing compared with this! We are talking about cold blooded killing here, right?"
"Back in '89, I was both right and wrong about that," Hermione said. "I was right in that we should consider the moral consequences. I was wrong in equating illegal with immoral. Or do you forget that everyone we knew who knew about that thought it was the right thing to do even though it was felonious including my parents? Daddy told us about his time in the Army and S.A.S., remember? Nothing really specific, but it got me thinking. Why do you think I chose History as one of my majors the next summer?"
Harry shrugged.
"I had to know why something wrong on one level is right on another. I had to know why sometimes it is necessary to kill people. We knew then a war is coming, one that we cannot stop. And Daddy made it clear that you cannot not kill in war.
"Thousands died in the last War that Voldemort and his vile followers started. They killed without any discrimination. Magicals and non-magicals were killed just because they could be killed. They killed children, Harry. Not children like us. Not children who could maybe fight back. They killed the helpless. If Voldemort comes back – no when he does – do you think that can't happen again?
"There are four horcruxes left. Three of them we should be able to destroy within the next year or so. But the fourth one? And you know about those things, Harry. Even if we had all four of them today, Voldemort could still come back one more time. The soul anchoring occurs when his body is destroyed. It then remains anchored even if the anchor is gone.
"If Quirrell is possessed, Voldemort could return within a year or so. We won't be ready. Our world won't be ready. It'll be the last War all over again and he'll still have his damnable horcruxes. To be rid of him, he must come back. But he comes back when we are ready and on our terms so that when he comes back, we can be rid of him and his ideas forever.
"And that means Quirrell must die. If he's possessed, the man is dead anyway. It's not Quirrell; it's Voldemort. And remember what Aunt Minnie told us yesterday?"
"What's that?"
"That Dumbledore 'suggested' Quirrell spend some of his sabbatical in Albania where Voldemort's spirit is thought to be hiding. If that is true, then it is Dumbledore who killed the man."
"And all we'd be doing is?"
"Letting the body know it."
"You're alright with killing then?"
"Like you, Harry, it's one thing to know how, another to do it. And no, if this world was fair, we would never have to even know how. But ever since we learned of this world we've been touched by that war. We both now have more friends than we ever imagined we might at one time. Aside from the friends we made in Japan, how many were untouched in the last war? How many did not lose a parent, aunt, uncle, cousin, brother or sister? Off the top of my head, I can't think of a single one, save the true Muggle Borns."
"The Weasleys?"
"Mrs. Weasley's whole family was wiped out," Hermione began.
"Her Aunt Muriel was not they say."
"But her parents, brothers … and didn't Muriel marry into that family?"
"Oh yeah."
"And that's what will happen again. I am not okay with it, but there it is. We can do something. Not much yet, but in a few years? If we can hold back the tide for long enough, the next time will be the last. I'd rather kill a few of them than watch my family die, Harry. I'd rather kill them if that's the only way I can be sure that one day when I have children they won't ever have to worry about that nonsense. I don't like it. But what other way is there?"
Harry shrugged. "I just don't want … I don't want to lose anyone…"
"Neither do I. No one can promise you that you won't, Harry. All you can do, all we can do is our best to see that we don't lose anyone unnecessarily. Dumbledore was more than willing to sacrifice others for his Greater Good, whatever that is. Who knows how many died fighting for a man who would not fight himself. Would things be different had he been a fighter and not a behind the scenes manipulator? I can't say. But how many died at the front while their supposed leader hid in his school house? Perhaps if he had led, truly led, things may have been different."
"Lord Black suspects he did not want to 'disrupt' the powerful families," Harry said thinking.
"As in the Pureblood," Hermione nodded. "Perhaps that is his Greater Good. Meanwhile the rest of us were disrupted. Not this time!"
"No," Harry agreed. "There will be widows and orphans on the other side this time. You cannot win a war if you are unwilling to destroy the enemy."
"Dumbledore was unwilling."
"Which is why he must be kept out of this," Harry agreed. "Still, it sounds good, but doing it…"
"Is regrettably necessary," Hermione said. "There is no such thing as a clean war except in the imagination of those who never have or will see it."
"It is good that war is so horrible, lest we come to love it," Harry said.
"What's that?"
"Something a general said once long ago after winning a major victory against all odds."
"Oh," Hermione said.
Harry did not like it. He knew Hermione was right as he thought the same things. The Death Eaters never surrendered. Most were never even caught or suspected and they would return as soon as Voldemort reappeared. Hermione was also right that now was too soon.
"Harry?" she asked.
He looked at her, at his best friend.
"You don't have to do this alone. You don't have to do any of this alone. I will always be there…"
"Will you?" he answered in a small voice. "It's going to be a war and…"
"And I will always be there, Harry. Always."
"Thanks," Harry said.
"But?"
"But, I've been thinking about how and I don't like my original idea. First off, I doubt we can just get a gun."
"I have an idea…" Hermione explained her idea to Harry over the next several minutes.
"Next, we need to let others know before we move," Harry said. The planning began in earnest.
TUESDAY, AUGUST 20th, 1991 - OUTSIDE DOVER, U.K.
Walter Fudge was a Pureblood born to what his family said were the right parents in the right place in society. He had attended Hogwarts School sorted into Slytherin House, as was expected for the son of an "honorable" line. When he finished in 1972, he was hired as a junior assistant with the Department of International Magical Cooperation given his gift for languages. While he generally agreed with the Pureblood Supremacist agenda, as did his entire family, he was not a supporter of Voldemort or the Death Eaters as he felt their terror campaign was at best counterproductive. Still, raised in a very political family, he knew when to keep his true opinions to himself, which was almost all the time.
His older brother was named Cornelius. He too was a ministry employee and was considered an up and comer in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, having been one of the few in the Department with any affinity for the Dementors that guarded the wizard prison of Azkaban. So far as Walter knew, his brother Cornelius never put so much as a toe out of line nor ever truly stuck his neck out. During the War, either of those activities might get you noticed and being noticed was not good for one's long term career - or health. The Fudge family had their eyes set on the Grand Prize of magical politics, or at least the one they could reasonably expect to get. Despite the recent scandals, Dumbledore still held the true prize - Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. But the real money was to be skimmed from the people as Minister for Magic.
While the family hopes had been on Cornelius, it seemed Walter was truly the luck one. His former boss had been Bartimius Crouch, who had been a firebrand as the Head of Magical Law Enforcement during the War and instrumental in finally getting the then new Minister for Magic, Millicent Bagnold, to approve the use of lethal force against the Death Eaters. But his boss had a son who was among the most vicious Death Eaters out there. When this came to light, "Law and Order" Crouch was summarily "transferred" to International Cooperation. Crouch's disgrace was Walter's gain as he immediately became the man's primary assistant.
About three years ago, a series of scandals rocked the magical world. How Bagnold (Bag of Gold, as Walter called her in private) managed to avoid a vote of no confidence was anyone's guess, but she did. She immediately launched a purge of the Ministry. To the horror of the Fudge family, she sacked Cornelius and most of his personal staff for graft. As if she was so innocent. One did not make a living wage as a Ministry employee, at least not if they wanted to maintain their status in the Pureblood Society. Graft was expected as an income "adjustment." It didn't matter to Bagnold. Cornelius got the sack.
It should have crushed the Fudge family ambitions. The truth was Cornelius was almost honest as compared to his younger brother. But Walter was also far more devious and better connected and avoided even a sniff from the vicious hounds that Bagnold set upon the Ministry. Crouch was not so lucky. It came to light that years earlier he had facilitated the escape of his own son from Azkaban, allowing his wife to take the murderer's place and die in prison. Crouch got a cell next to his recaptured and now soulless son. Crouch's loss was Walter's gain. He became head of International Cooperation and now was the Fudge expected to become Minister one day.
The question was when. Bagnold, despite over sixty years in the Ministry seemed to be there to stay. She had weathered political storms that would have ended a lesser Minister and had personally survived no less that three assassination attempts during the War. Still, no one lasts forever.
Walter stared at the day's copy of the Daily Prophet. Bagnold had announced her intention to retire at the end of the month! The path was now open! True, with the Wizengamot so divided they could not even agree on what day it was, it would be months before a new Minister would be selected. But Walter saw this as a boon. He would bide his time while the more likely candidates failed to gain the vote while he campaigned behind the scenes. His best asset right now was he had no connection to Dumbledore. All of the more popular "candidates" were in Dumbledore's pocket and Dumbledore was now a pariah. In time, he would be forced to stay out of his usual role as "King Maker." Once that occurred, Walter Fudge would be there to restore his family's honor. Who knows? Perhaps he could throw his brother Cornelius a bone.
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 21st, 1991 – CAMP W (Headquarters of the Club operated by MI-5), U.K.
Minerva stepped as elegantly as any from the floo that was the magical entrance to this very special compound. Here, hundreds of children had been prepared for an education she could only wish she could have provided to any of them. But she was a part of this rebellion against all that "Society" expected and, after a part of four summers in Japan with "her children" she was blessed with hope that this new vision of Magical Britain was not a passing and ephemeral hope. This meeting, however, was both unexpected and somewhat foreboding, as Minerva saw it. She was, after all, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts which was a school whose relevance might well be undermined by this place and the people who came here. Still, this Club was the future as she saw it and her beloved Great-granddaughter was a huge part of it…
"Aunt Minnie!" a girl's voice squealed and a bushy brown haired missile a little over three quarters of Minerva's size crushed into her in a tight hug. "We haven't seen you in ages! Not since you finished your term! Oh, it's great to see you again, Aunt Minnie!" the little girl gushed.
"Hello Hermione," Minerva said. "Is there a reason for such excitement?"
"Er, no," Hermione replied. "It's just been a while and…"
"That's okay. I am sorry I wasn't there for the end of your summer. I am quite proud of you, by the way. You do realize that you are clearly the first in our family to get her degrees."
Hermione nodded. "Thanks."
"So what is this meeting about?"
"Oh, yeah sorry about that," Hermione said. "We thought saying too much might be a problem at least until everyone was here. It's about a few things really: what may happen at Hogwarts this year, the Ministry and such, Voldemort, a few other things."
Minerva seemed to understand the cryptic response. "How much are you going to reveal?" she asked softly.
"Not much beyond this year's stuff," Hermione replied. "How we know is also not going to be revealed."
"And who will be here?"
"Oh, a fair few," she replied. "Not everyone, not even close, but many who should know and those we thing must will be here. Should be interesting."
"I see," Minerva replied, "so I'll just have to wait just like the others to find out."
Hermione nodded. "Harry and Lord Black would prefer it that way."
Others began to arrive and Minerva stepped off to the side as it appeared that Hermione was busy with the other kids setting up the room. Chairs and tables were set up almost like three sides of a rectangle. The base of the rectangle was raised on a platform with fourteen chairs before a large table. There were an additional three chairs just in front of the large platform, also before a table. Each leg of the rectangle had three rows of twelve chairs each. Minerva was escorted to the front row of one of the "legs" and soon was joined by some Hogwarts students; all she knew were in the Club. There was Nympahdora Tonks who was one of the Seventh Year Prefect from Hufflepuff, as well as four Fifth Year Prefects, one from each house: Percy Weasley from Gryffindor, Edgar Jacoby from Hufflepuff, Penelope Clearwater from Ravenclaw and Olivia Adair from Slytherin. She soon saw the other five "Faculty Advisors," one from each of the other schools with what she assumed were their senior student Club Members. Filius Flitwick and Pamona Sprout were soon seated behind her as others continued filing in, several she only recognized. Others were quite familiar to her including the Grangers, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Harry and Clarice's (half) Uncle Michael Evans, Amelia Bones (who was a surprise) and her niece, many of the Weasleys, as well as a couple more Hogwarts students. Soon, only the raised table and the smaller table before it were empty.
"All rise!" a voice called out as Minerva saw Hermione, Luna and Clarice, all dressed in their Club uniform take their places at the seats at the lower table. Clarice seemed to be holding a scroll. When the murmurs died down she spoke in a loud and probably amplified voice:
"In full accordance with the terms of the Treaty between the Magical Peoples of Britannia and His Royal Majesty Richard the First of England, in this Year of Our Lord One Thousand Nine Hundred and Ninety-one, in the thirty-ninth year of the reign of Her Royal Majesty Elizabeth the Second, by the Grace of God Queen of Great Britain, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith, on this the twenty-first day of August, the Magical Council of Britannia is hereby called into session. God Save the Queen."
A few people repeated the final phrase, but most stood in silence, clearly confused as fourteen people took their seats at the raised table. Minerva recognized many of them. At the center was Lord Black. She also recognized Xenophilius Lovegood and Arthur Weasley and was surprised to see Frank Longbottom and Harry Potter also at the high table. There was another boy who could not be much older than Harry as well. When the fourteen were at their places, Clarice invited the entire gathering to be seated.
"Call the role," Lord Black intoned.
Clarice had remained standing. "The Head Ancient and Noble House of Abbott!" she began.
"Terrance Abbott, Head of House!" one of the men at the raised table announced.
"Justin Abbott, Heir Apparent!" a boy of about fifteen said standing in the second row across from Minerva. He then sat down.
And it continued as one house after another was called. Lord Arcturus Black, acting Chair of the Council and Head of House Black rose when his house was called followed by Sirius Black, Heir apparent. Amos Diggory arose on behalf of his House followed by his son and heir apparent, the Hogwarts Fourth Year Cedric. There was Damian Fawcett and his twenty year old son Justinian. Xeno Lovegood earned a polite laugh when he announced his heir apparent was one year of age and down for his nap. Frank Longbottom stood for his house followed by Neville and Alice and Augusta sat in their seats and applauded. Alan Mercer rose for his house as did his son Tobias, who appeared to be in his twenties. Thomas Trotter and his eight year old son Jackson, who had recently received his O.W.L.s in Japan, arose when their line was called. Finally, Arthur Weasley and his eldest son William stood. Still, three remained seated and silent including Harry.
"The Ancient and Noble House of Bones," Clarice began anew.
"What?" Minerva heard Amelia Bones ask.
"Timothy Wood," another man at the high table said standing, "eldest son of Charles Wood the eldest son of William Bones and Marcia Pole, born of the Hogwarts Time Chamber, 1882."
"Oliver Wood, grandson of Timothy Wood's eldest son Richard, Heir Apparent," a young man aged fourteen said.
Before the muttering could die down, Clarice continued: "The Ancient and Noble House of Potter."
Minerva watched as Harry stood. "Harry James Potter, Head of House." He sat down somewhat quickly, Minerva thought.
"The Ancient and Noble House of Prewett!"
The other boy stood. "D-Dean Thomas. I'm eleven."
"What?" Minerva heard a voice say somewhat softly. She recognized the voice of Molly Weasley.
"I'm the only son of Aaron Thomas born 1950 and died 1980 who was the only son of Charles Thomas born 1924 and died in 1977 who was the oldest son of Darius Prewett and Constance Burke. He was born in the Hogwarts Time Chamber in 1907. Didn't know any of this myself 'til 'bout a few months ago."
"All Oath Holders of Her Majesty's Magical Council are assembled," Clarice announced just before taking her seat.
"What is this High Council?" a voice asked. Apparently a large majority of the others present agreed that this was a good question.
"The High Council," Lord Black answered, "it a body composed of all the existing heads of the remaining Ancient and Noble Houses."
"And what do such venerated lines have to do with the Muggle Queen?" another voice asked.
"There are three organizations or groups present here today," Lord Black said. "One is known as The Club and I have it on good authority that everyone here both knows what it is and most likely has some connection with it either as a Member, as family member of a Member, a school faculty advisor to their school's Membership or in other ways. Another is known as Office W. Then here is the High Council. All three organizations have a direct connection with Her Majesty's government." Lord Black then began a lengthy talk about the origins and history of High Council.
"Sounds like so much rubbish to me," a voice called out when Lord Black finished. "You're saying that you lot are the real magical government?"
"No," Lord Black replied, "not exactly. We are, however, the ones with the right to rule and the ones with the final magical authority regarding any and all governmental action. Historically, we merely exercised the authority to nullify Wizengamot actions that we as a body disagreed with or that we found conflicted with our Oaths or were found to be contrary to the wishes of the then King of England. However, the last time we formally met and exercised our authority as His Majesty's Lord Governors was 1407."
"Yet, despite five hundred or more years of not doing your jobs, you would have us believe you still have such authority?" Amelia Bones asked. It was a somewhat rhetorical question at least between her and Lord Black. Despite being the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, she was also the daughter of an Ancient and Noble House and knew of the Oath. She knew that were it not true that the Houses were the legitimate authority, what Lord Black had suggested could be considered sedition. It probably would be anyway as she honestly doubted there were any in the Wizengamot or Ministry who either knew of the Magical Council or believed it could still exist, aside from those who were present in the room. Still, Lord Black knew she was trying to help him convince others. Most magicals in Britain knew nothing of this part of their history or of its possible remaining significance. Lord Black drew his wand and pointed it at himself.
"I, Arcturus Black, Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, by Oath, Law and Magic, a Lord Governor of Magical Britain with authority of birthright from Her Majesty the Queen of Great Britain and Head of the Commonwealth, do hereby swear upon my magic that what I have said about the High Council is true to the best of my knowledge."
When nothing happened, there was a slight gasp from some of the others. Most everyone knew the significance of the magical oath he had used. He believed what he had said was true. The oath did not, however, reveal objective truth and most knew this. A person under the delusion that they were Emperor of the Universe could take the oath and not suffer the fate of a liar if they truly believed they were said Emperor. Still, it was considered an oath one did not take on a whim and while not conclusive of truth, was considered highly persuasive.
"I, Harry James Potter," Harry began taking the same oath without repercussion. He was soon followed by all the other Heads of Ancient and Noble Houses, their Heirs Apparent and at least seven others in the room. With some thirty-four who believed that the High Council was the legitimate ruling authority, the few remaining doubters, while not necessarily convinced, were at least willing to let the matter drop.
"And for the third organization," Lord Black said once it was clear that there would be no further interruptions for now, "Mr. Roger Grant of Office W, which is the group that owns this facility, among other things."
Mr. Grant, who was seated with the others, rose and began his presentation. He explained that Office W was a Division within State Security tasked with the internal security of Britain and specifically tasked with magical domestic threats to the country. As such, for decades Office W had "kept a close eye on" Magical Britain. While Mr. Grant was a Muggle, many in his Division were Magicals and all Muggles knew about magic and the magical world either because they had married into it, had magical family members or had at least one magical parent. Through such staffing, the Office fell within at least a couple of loopholes and exceptions under both the International Statute of Secrecy as well as several of the Acts Magical Britain had passed to govern the enforcement of the Statute.
"Not that it matters," Mr. Grant continued. "As Lord Black explained, the passage of the Statute of Secrecy was and remains subject to ratification by the Magical Council. Technically speaking, as we now understand it, all laws passed since 1407 are suspect as not one of them has been ratified pursuant to the terms of your Wizengamot Charter."
He stated that the magicals in the Office, as well as those who worked for similar offices in other Departments and the Royal Household, fell into several categories. There were quite a few who had worked for the non-magical government for generations. First generation magical employees included a significant number of highly qualified Muggle Borns who could not obtain suitable employment within magical society. There were numerous Half Bloods and Purebloods as well, all of whom had lost confidence in the magical government. During the last War, Office W actually "took out" more Death Eaters than the Magical Department of Law Enforcement.
Most recently, while Office W continued its primary tasks, it was the lead magical agency within the Muggle government supporting The Club. Camp W was and under utilized training facility for Office W personnel and was now the primary meeting facility for the Club. Through Office W funding had been made available to assist in paying for the Club Members to attend the Watanabe School in Japan. The fact that a government was sponsoring such attendance meant that the cost per student was substantially less as governments received a significant discount, or at least those governments who had a reputation for paying their bills. Still, the Muggle government had spent well over twenty-million pounds in student costs alone the past year with the remainder of the costs paid for by a private foundation. Basically, without Office W, most of the students who attended school in Japan probably would not have been able to have such an opportunity.
The various offices which dealt with "magical affairs" within the Muggle government all had funds that were intended to provide financial assistance to the magical world. These funds had existed for well over a decade in the case of Office W and much longer in other departments. For various reasons, until now the funds had never been used. In most cases, it was due entirely to the Magical government's refusal to as much as talk with its non-magical counterparts. There was also the issue of accounting, as the terms for disbursement would have required the Magical Government to tell the funding agency how the money was being used in detail that would have prevented all but the pettiest forms of fiscal mismanagement or graft.
The special magical assistance funds were kept in the Muggle government's accounts at Gringotts, which was why the Chancellor for the Exchequer could not and had not been able to "raid" those funds to pay for underfunded non-magical programs. It did not hurt that Gringotts accounts earned far more interest than did many Muggle investments (at least the ones that were not some kind of fraud). Consequently, these funds were probably worth more than the Magical government could expect to raise through taxation and other means in years.
Her Majesty's Government saw The Club and the Watanabe School as an investment in the future. This "future" was the future of all of Great Britain and not just either magical or non-magical Britain. Her Majesty's Government hoped that by funding education of a not unsubstantial proportion of the country's magical youth, there would come a day when Magical Britain would not be as closed to cooperation with non-magical Britain on issues of mutual interest as had been the case since at least the "passage" of the International Statute of Secrecy and the formation of the Ministry of Magic.
When Roger Grant finished, Lord Black stood again. "Now that we all know who is here, it's time to find out why we are here. This gathering is in part due to the current political crisis precipitated by the not so surprising retirement of the current Minister for Magic. However, the real reason is not her departure from government, but because the government is not likely to be or do much of anything for the foreseeable future. As a member of the Wizengamot, I can tell you that despite the fact we will be in session daily until such time as a new Minister is selected, I do not foresee a selection anytime soon. Historically, the last War being the only exception, it takes at least six months for the selection of a new Minister. I sincerely doubt this time will be anywhere near as expeditious a process. Yet there are matters that require attention that cannot wait until our government returns to business as usual. For that, I turn the floor over to the Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter."
Harry rose from his seat and looked at the people. While he knew he would be talking, he still was nervous and not entirely sure what he would say or how.
"I'd like to begin by telling you one of my hopes for our future," Harry began. "One day, I hope, a magical child will be able to receive the same education here in Britain as we have received in Japan. I believe that education should not be limited except by one's own limitations. Regretfully, it seems to be the policy of our government to provide our children with a substandard education probably on purpose. The upper limits of what can be taught and what should be learned should not be left to the government, but to the individual. Government's sole function is to set the floor – the absolute minimums. Unfortunately, this is not the situation today. Today, Magical Britain sets the upper limits and learning beyond such limits is at best discouraged and at worst illegal. It is only because we are learning overseas and outside the reach of our government that we can learn what there is to learn. Here, we are only allowed to learn what is deemed safe or politically acceptable. That must change!"
There was a large applause.
"However, such change is for the future. We live for the future, but we live in the present. In the present Japan is our only readily available alternative, as least for the numbers of children we are sending abroad for education. Moreover, there are challenges in the present far beyond the current political problems that must be addressed before we can begin to create the future we want.
"For most of you, what I am going to tell you for now is informational. For some of us, however, it will require action in the very near future.
"Voldemort," Harry began. He had to wait for the gasps to die down to continue as the name still created at least minor panic even years after the evil wizard had disappeared. "Voldemort," he continued, "is not dead."
It was several minutes before Harry could continue. At least half of the people present did not want to believe him and the other half was clearly concerned that he might be telling the truth. When the room finally calmed down, Harry answered the most common question he had heard. He explained that while Voldemort's physical body might well have been destroyed, he could not die because he had made hocuses. It was clear many if not most of the people had no idea what those were so he explained that as well. He explained that so long as one horcrux remained intact, the Dark Wizard who created it could not be truly killed. True, returning to a corporeal form was not easy and required assistance, but such assistance need not be voluntary.
Harry then launched into a brief history of Voldemort. Many were shocked to learn that the leader of the Death Eaters who were the violent, terrorist movement associated with blood purity, was a half blood born of a Muggle father and a witch and that the witch was the product of the most unsavory of Pureblood unions. Marope Gaunt was the daughter of a brother and sister, who themselves were children of siblings as had been the case in that family for at least a few generations. Basically, Tom Riddle, champion of Purebloods was the product of about as impure a line as could be imagined. Yet it was this Riddle who became Voldemort and launched a bloody civil war. It was this Riddle who delved into the darkest of magics – magics requiring what was in effect human sacrifice – to create not just one but six horcruxes. It was this Riddle who was not truly dead and therefore who could return to pick up where he left off.
"But his Death Eaters are gone," a voice protested. "They're either dead or in prison."
"The one's we know about," Harry said. He explained what Office W knew about the Death Eaters. First of all, despite the defenses raised in various trials over the years, no one could become a Death Eater except of their own free will. This did not mean they could not be coerced into becoming one. They could be. It just means that they could not claim to be victims of any form of magical compulsion. Moreover, to become a Death Eater, they had to kill another human being in cold blood. Thus the lot of them were murderers with proof of their guilt being the brands on their left forearms.
Finally, there were far more Death Eaters than most suspected.
The Death Eaters were divided into two groups, all of whom had killed and were marked. The Active Death Eaters were those that did Voldemort's bidding and killed and raped with impunity. The rest were "in reserve," biding their time until called or undermining the Magical government. At his peak, Voldemort had thirteen Lieutenants who were each tasked to commit mayhem or to lead his forces against any who opposed him. When ever a Lieutenant was killed or captured, one of the subordinate Death Eaters (usually the most brutal or cunning one) was promoted to fill the vacancy. Each Lieutenant had thirteen underlings, meaning at any time there were upwards of one hundred and eighty-four Death Eaters out and about. Whenever an underling was killed or captured, one of the inactive Death Eaters was called to fill the place. It was the ranks of the inactive Death Eaters that had not been completely removed from society. The estimate was that over six hundred of those were unaccounted for through death or incarceration. Needless to say, that number stunned many in the room.
"There could be a Death Eater here," Molly Weasley began.
"Not possible," Harry said.
"How can you be so sure?"
"To get here each of you had to pass through another location," Harry replied. "That location is protected by Blood Wards that Dumbledore placed upon me as a baby."
"Blood wards?" Amelia said in shock. "But those are illegal! They are at best borderline dark!"
Harry nodded. "Yet they are in place. If you need proof consider this: how many of you forgot that I was that 'Boy-Who-Lived' nonsense? You forgot that a little over three years ago and only remembered in the last few weeks or so, correct?" Harry did wait for a reply. "Forgetting all about what you once knew or believed about me was the result of those wards finally becoming full strength. You could only remember after I accepted my invitation to attend Hogwarts and my name was again revealed publically. The rest of the Ward remains at full strength. Were any of you a Death Eater or their fellow travelers, passing through those wards would be impossible and trying to force your way through would be suicide. As you are all alive, none of you are or can be my sworn enemy."
It never ceased to amaze Harry how accepting of a magical explanation most magicals were.
"As we speak," Harry went on, "we have reason to believe Voldemort is attempting to return to corporeal form. Specifically, we have it on good authority that Dumbledore is facilitating this return." After the questions as to how and why died down, Harry continued. "We believe Dumbledore did this to confirm his suspicions about the horcruxes and in hopes of trapping Voldemort somehow."
"And just how did Dumbledore achieve this feat?" Molly Weasley asked in some disbelief. "Did he send You-Know-Who an engraved invitation?"
"In a manner of speaking," Harry said. "Professor McGonagall?"
Minerva stood. "Last summer, one of our professors left on sabbatical to gain some experience before taking the position as Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"A position Tom Riddle sought some years ago," Harry added. "As I understand it, there is a rumor that ever since Dumbledore refused to hire him, that position has been cursed. Whether that is true is an open question, but it is true that no professor has filled that position for more than three terms."
"Then again," Minerva added, "the reasons why are as numerous as the numbers who have held that position."
"So Dumbledore is trying to tempt You-Know-Who with a chair?" Molly asked.
"I doubt that alone would suffice," Harry said.
"Dumbledore has been less than discrete about certain things," Minerva continued. "Specifically, I know he has told many of us that Hogwarts will play host to a very powerful magical artifact this year."
"One which would be a temptation to a disembodied soul," Harry added.
"And what would that be?" Roger Grant asked.
"The Philosopher's Stone," Minerva said. "The professor knew about it before he set off and Dumbledore suggested he should visit the forests of Albania for some practical experience – where the spirit is rumored to lurk."
"Okay," Mr. Grant said, "you got me. Philosophers Stone? You mean like alchemy and such."
"That's the one," Harry said.
"As in the thing that turns stuff to gold and can be used to make someone immortal?"
Harry nodded.
"It's not a myth?"
"The first references to the Stone arose around the same time in both China and Greece around 500 B.C. Now whether the two magical cultures were in contact at that time is debatable, but the magicals have always believed that the Stone was a possibility and the logical extension of potions. The Stone crossed over to the Muggle world in the works of Greek Philosophers and in the writings of the chroniclers of the First Chinese Emperor, who sought the Stone and any other means to achieve his own physical immortality.
"Only one such stone is believed to exist. It was made about two thousand years after it was first imagined, for lack of a better term. The maker was born in France around 1320 and is named Nicholas Flamel. He is remarked of in both Muggle and Magical history, although references to him in recent years are confined to our history. Dumbledore is said to have been a correspondent with Flamel some years ago, although there is no reason to believe for certain that Flamel is still in contact with Dumbledore."
"Indeed," Minerva said. "Dumbledore is believed to have been a collaborator on some things with Flamel as recently as fifty years ago, but there are no recent references to such collaboration. Flamel is known to have done that from time to time over the last six centuries or so. About once every hundred years or so, he seeks out a keen mind for some reason and then, some years later, disappears again for decades. Anyway, the last such known collaboration was with Dumbledore.
"Dumbledore has told the staff that Flamel is concerned about the safety of the Stone and that he has agreed to keep the Stone at Hogwarts," Minerva finished.
"In theory," Harry said, "the Stone might be used to return a disembodies soul to a recreation of its former self."
"Theory?" Mr. Grant asked.
"Well," Harry said, "there is but one of those things known to exist and its owner is not rumored to have ever been a disembodied soul, so there is no reason to know for certain that the Stone could return someone like Voldemort to a physical form. But it is fair to believe that Voldemort might believe in that possibility,"
Minerva nodded. "Dumbledore may be thinking that the Stone would be a major temptation and a convenient Hogwarts professor the means to gain access."
"A most unfortunate thing for the professor," Harry added.
"What do you mean?" Molly asked.
"If Voldemort has in fact possessed the professor, then the man is dead. To end the possession, all souls must be forced from the body or the body must be rendered untenable for a soul. In other words, the only way to drive him out will kill the host."
"What if he leaves on his own?" a voice asked.
"The host dies," Harry replied. "Basically, if Dumbledore sent that professor to Albania in the hopes of tempting Voldemort to return, the professor's life was forfeited."
"He wouldn't," a voice said.
"This is the same Dumbledore who left Harry here with Muggles who tried to kill him," Rose Granger noted. "I wouldn't put anything past him."
"Particularly if it does not involve sticking his own neck out," Sirius added.
"And in this case it's a waste," Harry said.
"Why?" a few voices asked.
"The Stone's a fake."
"How can you be so sure?" Arthur Weasley asked.
"From the first references to such an object until today, over twenty-six hundred years later, alchemists have continually sought to make one. In all that time, only one has been made. That's the one that Flamel made. Now, I'd say it's safe to assume Flamel is a genius. Although it is possible he was merely incredibly lucky, I lean towards genius. Add to that fact that he's had that Stone for about six hundred years and as far as we know never has let anyone see it, much less guard it. We can safely assume he has been very good at keeping it safe as there have been no others made and no one else who has claimed access to the one that does exist. Why would he leave it to Dumbledore? The man might be bright, but as compared to Flamel, he is a mere child. It would be like giving a four year old a loaded gun for safe keeping. Foolishness. No! The story that the Stone is at Hogwarts is false."
"And You-Know-Who is too foolish to realize it?" Frank Longbottom asked.
"I can't say," Harry replied. "If, however, the professor shows up this fall under active possession, then I believe it is safe to say the Voldemort is desperate enough to believe the possibility."
"Besides, what kind of fool would send him a message that he has the means to bring about Voldemort's return? I for one consider such course of action reckless. We are not ready as a people for such a return when so many Death Eaters remain at large, unaccounted for, and likely to flock to their Master. There is some good news, however.
"If he is here, he is vulnerable! While we believe he has taken possession of a Hogwarts Professor, although since said professor is magical, he cannot take full control. If this is the case, then kill the professor and Voldemort cannot come back yet. But allow the professor to live and he can sooner rather than later."
"But," Amelia said, "even if you are right, that's murder and whoever kills the body will have to be prosecuted!"
"Unless the body is engaged in activities that make its demise justifiable in the eyes of the law," Hermione said.
"Such as?"
"Criminal trespass," Hermione said. "Under the law, it is legal to kill a person under such circumstances if they are illegally on your land and represent a threat to your safety or the safety of your family."
"So," Amelia said, "what you're proposing is tricking this possessed professor into attempting to engage in criminal trespass? Just how do you propose to do that?"
"He's already doing it," Harry said with a smirk. Harry drew his wand and aimed it at himself. "I, Harry James Potter, do hereby declare under penalty of death, that I am the Magical Heir of Godric Gryffindor." When Harry did not drop dead, he continued. "I hereby claim all rights I may have as an heir of the Founders."
The people then saw a young, blonde haired girl stand. She was seated next to Clarice. "I, Luna Celeste Lovegood, do hereby declare under penalty of death, that I am the Magical Heir of Helga Hufflepuff. I hereby claim all rights I may have as an heir of the Founders." She was followed by Hermione who claimed her rights as the Magical Heir of Rowena Ravenclaw.
"That's three," Lord Black said. "To claim Hogwarts back, all four Founders lines must be both in agreement and – er – united. You don't honestly expect Voldemort to cooperate, do you? Even then, he cannot be guilty of trespass as he's a Founders' Heir!"
"Actually, I don't expect his cooperation and he is not a Founders' Heir," Harry said. "I, Harry James Potter, do hereby declare under penalty of death, that I am the Magical Heir of Salazar Slytherin. I hereby claim all rights I may have as an heir of the Founders!"
Harry did not drop dead for he was, in fact, the magical heir of two of the Founders.
"So," Frank Longbottom said, "you're going to kill this professor?"
"If we confirm that he is in fact possessed? Yes. Well, maybe not me personally. But that's only if we confirm our suspicions. We don't know this for certain."
"Then why tell us?"
"Because we will move forward if we do confirm it," Harry replied. "Those of you affiliated with Hogwarts need to know this. The other schools, the action might result in discovery of the Club and you need to be prepared for that possibility. As for the Magical Council, I hereby move that it be declared by this Council that Voldemort is an enemy of the realm, that we shall not treat with him, any of those who support him or any seeking to treat on his behalf and that his life is forfeit and he should be terminated with extreme prejudice."
"Second!" Lord Black said having been told in advance.
"Any call for debate?" Clarice asked. After a moment of silence, she continued. "There being a motion and no call for debate, the matter is put to a vote. All in favor?"
Nine hands rose. "Motion carries," Clarice said.
"Any objections by Her Majesty's Government?" Lord Black asked.
"None," Roger Grant replied.
"If we get rid of You-Know-Who, that's the end right?" a voice asked.
"Unfortunately no," Harry said. "We have found and destroyed two of his horcruxes. We know where at least two others are and are confident we can destroy those soon. The other two must be found and destroyed before Voldemort can be defeated and even then, he must return to corporeal form. What we propose is to delay that return until we are ready to deal with him and his minions, which will not be for a few years at least. This years actions will delay that day, hopefully until we are ready."
"And who's we?" a voice asked.
"Those who are willing to see the end of this madness," Hermione said. "There are many in this room who are probably a part of this already or will be when the time comes. Hopefully, when we have to stand against the evil tide, 'we' will be numbered in the hundreds or more."