Well, several months later, here's the next chapter of These Grim Bones. This chapter is interesting, I think, as it really sets the stage for the future.
Starting the chapter after next, time will begin to accelerate again. The first six chapters took place in the space of slightly under a week, and the next chapter will fit into that time scale. The next chapter will have a lot happen in it, incidentally. But after that, things will move forward much faster. Chapter eight will take place a few weeks later.
In case anyone was wondering, I am still working on Harry and Millie. I've gotten a bit of writer's block, and I'm not sure exactly where I want to go from where I am, but I have the next chapter written. The problem is that I don't like it, so that chapter is probably going to go through quite a few changes before I post it.
Out of curiosity, I'd like to ask my readers two questions. Well, it's not just pure curiosity, it's also the desire to improve. If you have any constructive criticism, please don't hesitate to tell me.
The first question is this: has my characterization been consistent? Since I've written this in bits and pieces for a few years now, I'd like to know whether the story seems disjointed at all. I'd like to think it's not, but I'm a little close to it, so I'd like your opinions.
Secondly, what character would you most like to see more of? I'm interested to know if there are any characters you think I'm neglecting, or you think would fit in well with the story. No guarantee I'll put them in, but I will think of it, especially if you give a good reason.
Anyway, enjoy.
I don't own any of this.
When Amelia Bones Apparated into her living room, she stood for a few moments, thinking. The encounter with Professor Dumbledore had left her shaken, unsure that she was doing the right thing. What if everyone was right? What if Black meant to harm Harry Potter? If Black was the dark wizard everyone was sure he was, he could be messing with her mind, couldn't he?
No. She shook her head. She had more faith in herself than that, and she had more faith in Veritaserum than that. That was exactly the way to becoming a whackjob who read the Quibbler and believed in the Rotfang Conspiracy. Sure, it was possible that Black was such a powerful wizard that he could fool Veritaserum, and if he were that powerful he could certainly fool one Hit Witch Amelia Bones. But an equally explanatory and far more likely explanation was that Black was just telling the truth. That's the problem with nutters like the people who read the Quibbler. They took the lack of evidence supporting their claims as proof that they were right, for clearly if there was a conspiracy, then 'they', whoever 'they' were, were just covering it all up.
Of course, she wouldn't let her guard down. Couldn't, in fact, for her orders were indeed to watch out for illegal activity on the part of Black. But she didn't have to believe him a blacker wizard than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself.
Anyway, she should see how little Harry was… where were Black and his ward? She glanced around her sitting room, quickly, scanning for them. "Black?" she asked, loudly. Had he gone upstairs?
When she hurried to the kitchen, still looking for the pair, she was greeted by the sight of a note sitting on her kitchen table. She picked up the parchment and read it.
Bones,
There wasn't any food in your kitchen that Harry was willing to eat. Little Prongs is starving, clearly, and he's as light as a pixie. We've gone to Diagon Alley for some food. We'll be back soon.
Sirius Black
"Merlin's soggy testicles!" Amelia swore, viciously. What an idiot. Diagon Alley of all places? Surely the fool knew better than that?
She immediately Apparated to one of the Apparition Points at Diagon Alley. She hadn't really thought about it, just reacted, but upon appearing in the Alley, she instantly realized that she had made the right choice of Apparition Points to head to. Of course, Black would head for Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour to get some food. That was just like him.
She shook her head, and hurried towards the commotion that was brewing up ahead, cursing the heavy Hit Wizard robes she was wearing, which severely restricted her movement.
"Well, Black? Why'd you do it?"
To Amelia's surprise, the wizard confronting Black and Harry was not someone who had lost friends or family to You-Know-Who and blamed the man for their deaths. Nor, even, was it a friend of Lily and James Potter who wanted Harry in better hands than a suspected Death Eater. Both of those possibilities, Amelia had expected, and prepared for. She was quite ready to intervene, and she was sure she could convince an accoster like that to stand down.
But of all the possibilities, she did not expect Rodolphus Lestrange, of all the wizards in Britain, to be confronting Black, not in broad daylight. He still had a warrant out for his arrest, so what in Merlin's name was he doing in Diagon Alley accosting Sirius Black?
Black had his wand out, but he was clearly encumbered by Harry, who was clinging to him in fear. "Back off Lestrange. I didn't have anything to do with You-Know-Who's death, but if I could have I would have killed the tosser myself."
"Come off it Black," Lestrange retorted. "I didn't know at the time, but it makes so much sense. How else would the Dark Lord be so sure that the boy would be a threat? And how else could he have gotten through the Fedelius charm? No, you were clearly one of us, even if no one but the Dark Lord Himself knew it."
The crowd around Florean's had shrank back from the confrontation from the start, as they realized that there was a known, declared Death Eater in front of them, facing off with the man who the Prophet had called You-Know-Who's right hand man. On the one hand, the bystander's fear was good, for the last thing Amelia wanted was to have innocent bystanders in the line of fire when she took down Lestrange. However, it also made it bloody difficult to make it through, however much she pushed.
The moment she had recognized Lestrange she had sent a Patronus to the Ministry, but it was going to take at least ten minutes for the Duty Aurors to respond, and in the meantime she had to contain the situation.
Black, his glance going to the turbulence in the crowd as Amelia pushed her way through, clearly understood her motion to keep Lestrange talking, and looked relieved. He turned his body a little more, trying to keep Harry away from the madman across from him.
"Listen, Lestrange, you're mad. I never supported your precious Dark Tosser, and Lily and James were my friends. I would never have betrayed them, not in a million years!"
Lestrange ignored his words as if they had never been said. "What I'm not sure of, though, is if you intended from the start for the Dark Lord to d…. fail."
If the situation hadn't been dire, Amelia would have thought it funny that Lestrange had so much trouble saying that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was dead. As it was, she just took the way the man's hand tightened on his wand as a sign that she didn't have much time. She carefully drew her own wand, and started circling around as much as she could, trying to get behind the Death Eater. He still hadn't noticed her, and she ignored all the gaping people around her as she prepared herself, even as the wizard continued to rant.
"Were you hoping to take the Dark Lord's position, was that it?" Lestrange mused, his face caught in a rictus of madness. "Surely you should have realized that none of us would follow you over Him. Or did you not realize what would happen. Maybe you believed that the Dark Lord would succeed, and you hoped to use that success to take a hold of the Potter's money?"
"Do not speak of them! Lily and James' name does not deserve to come from your lips!" Amelia was afraid that Black would try to curse the Death Eater and get Harry caught in the duel that would ensue, but fortunately Black had better control of himself than she would have guessed.
Lestrange continued, still ignoring Black's protesting words. "I am sure that you were never truly one of us." He sneered, contorting his face even further. "Oh, maybe the fools at the Prophet believed that you were. But I know you Blacks, always looking out for your own advantage. Bellatrix told me about you, Sirius Black. Tojours Pur," he sneered, as he stepped closer to Black left. "Only my Bellatrix really knows what that means, because she's the only true Black. A true Black would never rest until all of Britain is rid of the Mudbloods and Muggles that taint her. And I'll start with the Mudblood under your arm!"
Amelia was moving even before the Death Eater spoke those last words, her instincts screaming out his intention to move well before her mind processed it. She wasn't in a perfect position to strike, but she couldn't wait any longer.
All Hell broke loose.
Sirius, tensing as the Death Eater walked closer to him, kept Harry behind him as much as possible. Hurry up, Bones! He thought, desperately. Sirius was absolutely certain that he could take the prick in front of him. He had always been the better dueler, even as Lestrange delved into Darker curses and hexes than Sirius ever would.
What Sirius wasn't sure of, was whether he could simultaneously take Lestrange and protect Harry. And, of course, in a decision between those two goals, Harry clearly came first. So, if Bones managed to stun him before the Death Eater had a chance to throw a curse, that would be ideal, but if it came down to it, Sirius would act as a distraction and let the first curse go to him instead of Harry.
When it finally happened, Sirius was taken by surprise. He had been concentrating on Lestrange's words and on trying to keep him talking like Bones had asked, so he wasn't paying attention to the Death Eater's wand hand like he should have.
Time seemed to slow down as a dark blue spell emerged from Lestrange's wand, heading directly for Harry. Even as his body was reacting, yelling "Protego" and curling himself in front of Harry, who was still clutching to his side, Sirius thought absently that James would have scolded him for paying too much attention to his opponent's mouth, instead of his wand.
"You do know that there's a thing called non-verbal magic, don't you, Sirius?" James would have said, smirking at him. Sirius wasn't really sure how he was moving. Surely his brain had never given orders to his body, since he was caught up in a conversation with his dead best friend. Why was time moving so slowly?
He could see the shield coming up, but it was clearly neither powerful enough nor in time, as Lestrange's spell blew through it like it was nothing. Sirius' last thought before the spell hit was that at least Harry was out of the way.
He sat up with a gasp. "Harry!"
"Take it easy, Black," a voice said, but his eyes couldn't quite focus on it. "You were hit by a pretty powerful curse."
He ignored that. "Where's Harry?" he asked, urgently, trying to stand up. His legs wouldn't quite obey him, and neither would his eyes.
"Don't worry, Harry's fine. You caught the brunt of the curse, he only got a few secondary effects."
"He got hit by it?" Sirius shouted. "I thought I managed to block it!"
Sirius' eyes were slowly focusing, but he was still having trouble standing.
"Merlin, you were lucky, Black. If you had reacted half a second later…" Sirius could finally recognize the witch crouching next to him as Amelia Bones. "But relax, Harry's fine. In fact, here he is."
"Pa'foot?" Sirius instantly relaxed at the sight of his godson and ward, still looking frightened, but at least safe for now.
"I'm not sure exactly what the curse Lestrange used was, but it wasn't pretty. It looked like your skin was trying to rip itself off on its own. Luckily, your shield charm managed to weaken it enough that the Healers were able to stabilize you when they arrived. At least that's what they say, I don't know enough Healing or Dark Arts to be able to judge it."
"But Harry?"
Bones smiled slightly. "The secondary effects? Your little godson turned dark blue, all of him, even his clothes. If it hadn't been for the fact that you lying on the ground frightened him half to death, I think he would have enjoyed it."
"I turned b'ue," Harry said, happily, relieved that his godfather was smiling at him, even if he was still sitting on the ground.
"Did you know, little tyke?" Sirius grinned. "I ought to turn you purple, see how you like that." Still watching Harry, who had stopped focusing on Sirius and was now turning his attention to the ground, where the cobbles of the street apparently fascinated him, Sirius asked Bones, "and Lestrange?"
"On his way to the Ministry. The Aurors and Healers showed up about three minutes after…"
"Yeah, I get it," Sirius said, bitterly. "I endangered myself and Harry. And I didn't even manage to stall him for long enough for the Aurors to get here. Maybe I was right. Maybe I should have left Harry with the Dursleys, at least then he would be safe."
Harry looked up as his name was called, and smiled at Sirius.
"Don't be daft." Bones said, her voice sharp. "I wasn't expecting a Death Eater to confront you in public, in Diagon Alley of all places, either. Sure, I expected one of the Potters' friends to try to curse you or a widow of one of You-Know-Who's victims." Sirius winced at that, but Bones continued. "But if you think that Harry is better off with a family that hates him than with you, you're sorely mistaken."
A flash surprised Sirius, and he turned to see another bloody photographer, the smoke just drifting away from the camera.
"Get out of here!" Bones barked. "This is a Ministry investigation, and you do not have authorization to be here."
She motioned to one of the Aurors milling around, and with a nod, he escorted the photographer out of the way.
Sirius just now noticed that the place was swarming with Aurors. There had to be at least ten, nearly half of the DMLE's Auror force in one place.
One of the Aurors, older than the others, walked up to Bones. "Bones," he said, with clear respect in his voice, "we've secured the area, and brought Lestrange back to the Ministry. I recommend that you take Mr. Potter to a safe location…" he looked at Sirius distastefully, "as well as Black here."
"Of course, Auror Scrimgeour. I still haven't had time to get a safe house or anyone else on the protective detail, but they'll be safe at my place for now. I've got sufficient wards for the moment."
Scrimgeour looked like he was going to object, but then paused. "Before this, I would have doubted it. But, well…you did a good job, Hit Witch Bones. I would be proud to have you on the Auror force with me. If you want I'll talk to the Head Auror, and see if you can get transferred."
"Thank you, sir, but I'm just a Hit Witch, not an Auror. I'm flattered by the offer, but I have a job to do," Bones said, almost successfully hiding the shock which she was clearly feeling from that acknowledgement. "Come on, Black, get your godson and let's get out of this place."
As the three began to walk away, Scrimgeour called after her, "Bones?"
"Auror Scrimgeour?"
"You executed a picture perfect takedown of one of You-Know-Who's finest Death Eaters," Scrimgeour said. "You are clearly not 'just' anything." He paused, and then added. "In any case, remember you now have the Boy-Who-Lived under your care. As we saw today, he's not out of danger just because He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gone."
Sirius felt a chill run down his back at that statement, and clutched Harry to him protectively.
"Hey there, Prongs Junior," he said, softly. "Don't worry about anything, me and Hit Witch Bones will protect you."
One of the Aurors snorted, and Sirius glared at him, fiercely.
Just as they reached the Apparition point, Scrimgeour called out once again. "One more moment, Hit Witch Bones?"
"Sir?"
Scrimgeour beckoned Bones back, and said something in a low voice, glancing at Sirius as he did so. Sirius couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could guess. Merlin! Would he ever convince people that he was innocent?
After a few low-voiced comments between the two DMLE employees, Bones rejoined Sirius.
"We need to find a better safe house than my flat," she told him. "My wards are good, but they could be better, and my flat is too obvious. It's also too small for our needs, and clearly isn't well suited for a child."
"Well, I can just go look for an apartment," Sirius replied. "It's not like I'm poor anymore, not after…"
"Right," Bones said, clearly noticing Sirius' reluctance to utter the Potters' names, but thankfully not mentioning it. "But money's not the problem. As a DMLE protection detail, I have some discretionary funds anyway. Unfortunately, however an apartment just won't do."
"Why not? I mean, it's not like we need much space. I mean, it'd be nice if there's a park nearby for Harry to play in, but…"
"Merlin, Black, you have a brain, right?" Bones exclaimed, exasperated. "Why don't you just bloody use it?"
Sirius just looked at her in astonishment. This was the angriest he'd seen her yet, and he didn't even know what he did.
"What?" he asked.
"I don't give a flying Centaur's arse whether you need space or not," she barked. "My job is to keep you safe, which I can't bloody do if you won't bloody listen or use one measly brain cell."
Sirius just gaped at her.
"Safe," she said, slowly, annunciating the word carefully. "S-A-F-E. As in, not running off to Diagon Alley and nearly getting you and the Boy-Who-Bloody-Well-Lived killed."
Sirius looked down. He couldn't really put up an objection to that. Bones was right to be angry at him, and, to be honest, he really wasn't good enough to take care of Harry.
Bones wasn't finished, however. "So, I don't bloody care if you're 'comfortable' in an apartment. We need somewhere I can put up some real wards, permanent property somewhere, not a bloody apartment. Which is probably going to cost a whole lot more than my discretionary funds."
Bones' face, which, while she had been chewing him out, had been the most animated Sirius had yet seen it, abruptly returned to the stone mask which he was more used to seeing. "In any case," she continued, more softly and in control of herself once more, "it's like Scrimgeour said. I can't take the risks I might have been willing to if I was just protecting you. Now, I have to look out for the Boy-Who-Lived himself, and Merlin help me if I know how."
Sirius thought that the last sentence she uttered probably wasn't directed at him, which was good, for he had no idea how to respond. Bones looked at him sternly for another moment, before grabbing him and Apparating.
"Merlin!" Sirius shouted. "Not again." For a miracle, Harry didn't start crying, though whether that was because he was used to Side-Along Apparition – he had done it to get to Diagon Alley in the first place, after all—because he was still in shock from the events of the day (Merlin knew Sirius was), or because Harry was just naturally a stoic kid, Sirius didn't know.
Bones ignored his shout of displeasure at being Side-Along Apparated again, instead walking to a corner of her flat, where a cage sat that Sirius had not noticed earlier. She gently cooed to her owl as she walked the owl to the countertop.
The scribbling of quill on parchment was all that Sirius heard in the apartment for the next few minutes, as he let Bones write something, and kept his silence. He was still thinking about the encounter earlier today. Bones had been right. He had been bloody stupid, and had nearly let Harry get cursed. In fact, he had let Harry get cursed, even if it had ended up being harmless. If something had happened to Harry…
"Pa'foot sad?" Harry asked, peering up at him.
Sirius couldn't help but smile back at his godson. "A little, Harry. But with you around, I can't be for long."
Harry grinned up at him, and Sirius was taken aback by how much Harry's smile looked like James, even though he was only a year and a half old and, if he was being perfectly honest, didn't really look too much like James yet at all. But with that smile, Sirius was sure that Prongs Jr. would be the spitting image of his father.
For the first time in over a month, Sirius had managed to think of James without breaking down. Well, that was progress, he supposed.
Amelia Bones finished the last touches of her quick note, and glanced it over thoughtfully. That should do for now, she supposed. She didn't like the idea of playing the political game this way, but as things were turning out, she didn't really have a choice.
Emily Catlan, Wizengamot Administrative Services, she wrote on the envelope, before stuffing her letter in it and giving it to her owl, Edgar.
Hopefully that would work. The Wizengamot, though technically just the high court of the Wizarding World, had more influence than the job description suggested. It was a court made up of all the most important people in Wizarding society, after all. Specifically for her purposes, the Wizengamot had access to a large amount of money, which they used for various purpose. And she had no doubt that Emily would be willing to let her use that to help protect Harry Potter.
And Emily even had the authority to do so, since the Wizengamot Administrative Services had, among other things, the authority to release funds to support orphans of their members, such as James Potter, as it happened. Of course, although it was strictly legally, it wasn't really following the spirit of the law. But Emily Catlan had never been much for rules and regulations, which probably had been part of the reason she and Harold had gotten into trouble so often back at Hogwarts.
She glanced over to the kitchen table, where the young boy in question was playing with his godfather, who was looking down at him in turn with a smile on his face.
She shook her head, feeling even guiltier about the next letter she was about to right. In her letter to Emily, she had told the truth – that she was pretty sure Black was innocent, and that she was worried about the safety of the Boy-Who-Lived.
When she had been speaking to Scrimgeour earlier, on the other hand, she had not even considering telling him that. Scrimgeour had warned her to "watch out for Black, Bones. I assume you're monitoring him around the boy?" Amelia, feeling slightly guilty and also a little relieved that Scrimgeour didn't realize that leaving Black alone with Harry was what had caused the mess in the first place, had just nodded and said, "Of course, sir."
And, to be honest, she was. Oh, she wasn't watching Black to make sure he didn't hurt Harry – Amelia was quite sure by now that she wouldn't have to worry about that. No, she was watching Black around Harry to make sure he didn't do another idiotic move like taking Harry to visit the Ministry or something equally stupid. But Amelia hadn't expressed that to Scrimgeour, she had just let him assume that she was protecting the Boy-Who-Lived from the Death Eater who had become his guardian.
And now, with the letter she was writing to Underwood…
To: Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement
Mister Underwood,
As I am sure you have already heard from one of the Aurors deployed to Diagon Alley this morning, there was a confrontation between my charge, Sirius Black, and a Death Eater at-large, Rodolphus Lestrange. Lestrange is now in Ministry custody, and Black and his godson are unharmed.
However, this incident emphasizes several concerns I have, and I'd like to relay them to you. Firstly, I now have the Boy-Who-lived under my protection. As I'm sure you're aware, his safety is far from assured, and the fact that his godfather and guardian is Sirius Black does not help the situation. I do not believe Black will harm him, but I cannot be sure.
Just as importantly, there was a reporter from the Prophet on the scene. I am sure that the word will spread within the next day that Sirius Black has Harry Potter in his guardianship, and that they were involved in a confrontation with a Death Eater in Diagon Alley.
This poses a threat to Mr. Potter, both due to the threat from Death Eaters and due to the increased attention he will get from the rest of the Wizarding World.
Therefore, I would like to request several people from the Department to serve as part of a protective detail with me. I realize Minister Fudge only assigned me two Hit Wizards for the job, but I believe that circumstances have changed, due to the addition of the Boy-Who-Lived into the situation. Therefore I request that Mr. Potter's protective detail be increased to five, including me.
With that in mind, I would like to request Aurors Dawlish and Williamson, and Hit Wizards Grenhill and Fuller to join the protective detail. I understand that having Aurors on a protective detail led by a Hit Wizard is not normal practice, but under the circumstances, I believe it is appropriate.
Very Respectfully,
Hit Witch Amelia Bones
Her mouth twisted with distaste as she re-read the second paragraph. She hadn't actually lied at all, just twisted the truth a bit, and omitted some important facts. She did in fact not believe that Black would harm Harry Potter, and she couldn't be sure of that belief. But she had certainly not mentioned the fact that she did not think that Black had any connections to the Death Eaters, or that she thought that he was entirely innocent.
Amelia didn't know how Underwood would react to a statement like that. She was, however, quite sure that a message such as was implied by her letter would certainly make him stand up and take notice. And that would probably get her the resources she needed to protect him, and more importantly his godson.
Truth be told, Bones wasn't doing such a good job of that herself. Oh, sure, she'd been complemented by a bunch of people, including a well-respected Auror. Ever since that incident three years earlier, none of the Aurors had really wanted anything to do with her, and now the Aurors respected her? But the truth was, she had failed in her duty. Her job was not to take down Death Eaters, even if she had done that pretty successfully. She had forgotten her real job, too eager to prove herself and take down a Death Eater.
Sure, she had beaten Lestrange in that duel. But if she didn't have a reason to. All she should have done was to delay Lestrange, let Black get out of there and hold Lestrange in place until the Aurors arrived. Or, even if she hadn't done that, she could have struck before Lestrange started his curse. Her penchant for waiting for the perfect shot, the perfect position, was coming back to haunt her. There was a reason she had ended up a Hit Witch, not an Auror, after all.
Her job was to protect Black, and Harry Potter. That was it. If Black hadn't reacted quickly enough, or if the Healers hadn't arrived in time, she would have failed at her job. And that was something she did not tolerate. She wouldn't let it happen again. Not with the Boy-Who-Lived under her protection.
Bones shook her head once more, astonished by the weight of it all. Merlin, I'm in charge of protecting the Boy-Who-Lived himself. To think, a few days ago I was worrying about my career progression!
Adrian Greentree looked across the desk nervously. Three photographs were sitting on the desk, a desk which happened to belong to the Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Prophet, Barnabus Cuffe.
"Do you like them, sir?"
He flinched back slightly at the look in Mr. Cuffe's eyes and the slightly manic smile on his lips.
"Yes, I like them. In fact, I like them very much."
Adrian smiled tentatively. That was good, he thought, right?
Mr. Cuffe continued, partly to himself, "Yes, this will return the Daily Prophet to its rightful place in the Wizarding world, if nothing else will."
"Sir?" asked Adrian, cautiously.
"Oh, yes. In fact, I like these photographs so much, that if you get more like them, I will pay you 100 Galleons for each. In fact, take this."
Adrian gaped as he saw a handful of gleaming gold coins appear in front of him, pushed by Mr. Cuffe's hand. "Thank you sir!"
"No, thank you, my boy."
Mr. Cuffe waved his hands dismissively, and Adrian ran out of the office as quickly as he could. It may not have been what he, or anyone else was expecting of the Charms prodigy fresh out of Hogwarts. In fact, Adrian was sure that old Professor Slughorn would have a conniption if he saw his protégé now. But clutching a handful of gold to his chest, and grinning at the fact that his pictures would be seen by all the Wizarding world pretty soon, he was sure, Adrian knew that his gamble had paid off. Take that, mum, he yelled triumphantly in his head, I did make it as a photographer, I told you I would!
Barnabus smiled as the young man ran out of the room, grinning. Oh, he remembered when he was that young, when approval from his bosses at the paper was all to him. Well, now it was the fate of the paper that meant everything to him, and he'd better get about making the Daily Prophet's future strong.
Barnabus briefly considered calling one of his writers up to his office. Betty Braithwhite was a good writer, and she had done a good job with the piece about Black's trial, even if she hadn't been attributed with it.
But, no, that just wouldn't do. Not on the story of the century. Barnabus glanced at the three photographs in front of him, and began to write.
