The Righteous and the Wicked by Orion in the Sky
Chapter 4: Our Hopes and Expectations

September 3, 1995 - Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom, Hogwarts - 1:02 PM

Nashira Tonks squirmed in her seat. Harry had related the tale of his first Umbridge-led Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson in detail, and she found herself nervous at the beginning of class. Already side effects of the articles in the Daily Prophet were finding her at school. Angelina, Alicia, and Patricia, her roommates, were acting strangely towards her. She supposed it was only natural to do so around an alleged murderer's daughter, but that didn't mean she had to like it. And the night before she had only made it worse by commenting that her biological father hadn't had a trial. Alicia had immediately squeaked out something ridiculous about eyewitnesses, with Patricia agreeing. Angelina, who apparently valued her friendship with Nashira more than the other two girls, remained silent and even partnered with Nashira in Potions (a class in which there were only three Gryffindors in their year—Angelina, Nashira, and Kenneth Towler).

Towler himself was a nonentity in their year, as his best friend was in Ravenclaw and therefore he spent most of his time away from his year mates. It was lucky for Nashira that she had at least one friend in Potions with her, for Snape, though he had always ignored her before, seemed to pull hatred out of nowhere entirely for her. During the lesson, thirty points had been taken from Gryffindor. Luckily, Angelina had not blamed her, and instead had gone on a tirade the moment they left the classroom about Snape's unfairness.

And now she was in Umbridge's room, and wondering just how this new teacher would treat her.

"Good afternoon, class," said Umbridge as she walked into the room. Her girlish tone grated, and there were only a few returned greetings. "Now, that will not do!" she said with a wide smile. Nashira tried not to shudder. George poked her in the side and when she turned she recognized that he desperately wanted to make fun of Umbridge.

"Shh," she whispered. She didn't want to risk a detention yet.

"I should like you to reply, 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,'" the new professor continued. The seventh years shot her incredulous looks. They had heard from the other years about this, but hadn't thought she would subject them to it. They were seventh years, for Merlin's sake! They were adults. It was not on.

"What the hell?" muttered Angelina, but when Umbridge again gave her opening greeting she answered respectfully.

Fred, George, Lee, and Nashira did not.

"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Jordan, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Black, that simply will not do!" said Umbridge gaily.

"Our apologies," said Lee graciously. "We just aren't used to such, er, enthusiasm from the professors here," he added. Lee always had been the best at sweet-talking the group's way out of things.

Umbridge, however, wasn't buying it. "Another shortcoming in the Hogwarts education system, I fear," she said, her face distorted into a frog-like smirk. "I shall have to see about working with the teachers to improve their abilities to control the students."

Nashira's teeth clenched. Hogwarts had the best education in Europe! Everyone knew it. She couldn't believe the nerve of Umbridge. However, she did remember something else that the woman had said that needed to be stopped.

"And it's not Black," Nashira quickly added. She had no desire to change her name this late in life, unless it was to 'Weasley.'

"Is your father not Sirius Black?" asked Umbridge. "Or do you go by Evans?" Her tone was of polite curiosity, though she looked simply delighted in the fact that Nashira's face was turning slightly red.

"No," Nashira said. Before she could continue, Umbridge spoke again.

"Oh, it must Evans-Black, then! Hyphenation is the standard for children born to unmarried couples, isn't it? It just slipped my mind."

Yeah, I'll just bet it 'slipped your mind,' Nashira thought. "I go by 'Tonks,' actually," she said aloud, her face flaming with anger at Umbridge's obvious enjoyment.

"But that's not your name!" said Umbridge, looking scandalised.

"It has been for as long as—"

"Ah, but legally it is not, is it?" said Umbridge, and her smug triumph brought back sour images of Percy. Nashira had run into him once at the Ministry after his split from the Weasleys but before that blasted newspaper article had come out, and he had been entirely too smug about his 'right choice in supporting the Ministry.'

"Still, I would appreciate it if you used it," Nashira asked as her mind came back to the present.

"I'm afraid that would be granting privileges that you don't have," said Umbridge gravely. "So I shall call you Miss Black for now, yes? All right," she finished before waiting for an answer. The lesson continued while Nashira steamed. After the mockery of a class was over, Nashira walked a good distance away from the classroom before growling in frustration.

"The nerve!" she shouted angrily. "'Legally, it's not your name, is it?'" Nashira mocked. "Stupid bint! And I don't even know why she brought it up! What a bloody stupid thing to do. Even Ceres Yaxley is creative enough to make up insults about me, but my name? Merlin, what an idiot." Nashira continued for a great deal longer, her friends listening and occasionally adding in comments. She took a breath when they reached the Fat Lady, and Fred interrupted.

"You done?"

"Possibly," she said haughtily. "I'll let you know."

September 3, 1995 - Seventh Year Girls' Dorm, Gryffindor Tower - 8:08 PM

The letter was small and thin. Nashira had expected a pages-long apology, but not something this short. It was on nice parchment and sealed with, surprisingly, the Black crest. Staring up at her were the words Toujours Pur in red wax. Thinking it was no more than a ploy to remind her of their blood relationship, Nashira opened the letter.

Dearest Nashira, the letter began. "Yeah, right," she said skeptically. There was no answer, as she was in an empty dormitory, but she imagined the pleading face of the letter's author and continued reading despite strong feelings of resentment. She and writer had not been close for the first eleven years of her life, but during Nashira's illness and missed year of schooling they had bonded. Her recent betrayal had stung, strongly.

Though the article in the Daily Prophet may have led you to believe certain things of me, I wish for you to know that I have never acted in a way that I thought detrimental to you. To that end, I have left my husband—who is responsible for the letter's printing and many other Unforgivable crimes—and am currently staying in a Black family home. Certain wards are in place that will not allow me to speak the house's proper name, but I can tell you that it is a house that you are familiar with. You and your sister Nymphadora spent a great deal of time here this summer.

"Surely she can't mean headquarters," Nashira said aloud. She quickly looked around, trying to see if anyone had entered the room when she wasn't looking, but it was still clear. Admonishing herself for mentioning something related to the Order at school—where it was hard to tell just who was listening to 'private' conversations—she read on. There was only one more line, and the closing.

I have much more to tell you the next time we meet.

With Love,
Narcissa Black.

"Heaps more to tell me, apparently," she said to herself, still stunned. That her aunt was at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was shocking in and of itself, but after Nashira remembered that the only way to get into a Fidelius Charm-protected home was with the permission of the Secret-Keeper, she was absolutely astounded.

Nashira stared at the letter. She wanted so much to be mad at Narcissa, to have someone besides Lucius Malfoy (and, knowing her uncle's loyalties, possibly You Know Who) to blame, but she couldn't. This was not her aunt's fault. Nashira penned a letter back stating her beliefs as such, and correspondence between the two was once more renewed.

September 18, 1995 - Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts - 8:04 PM

"I hate Snape," said Harry as he sat next to Hermione on a couch in the common room. "And Malfoy, and every other Slytherin that ever existed," he finished. Hermione patted him on the arm comfortingly.

"Tonks was a Slytherin," said Ron without looking up from his quidditch magazine. "You don't hate her." Hermione let out a little sigh at Ron's statement.

"Yeah, I don't hate Tonks, but that's not even what I meant and you know it. Can't I just complain in peace?" Harry said with a glare at Ron.

"Complain about what?" asked Nashira. She and Lee Jordan were approaching the trio. Nashira's expression was of polite interest, but Lee's was a bit of a smirk. Harry wondered if he needed to be wary while he ate his meals the next day, as Lee Jordan smirking could mean only one thing - a successful prank. He stopped his pondering to answer Nashira's question.

"I've just been at a detention with Snape," Harry said.

"Umbridge gave you the night off?" asked Nashira. Her tone was half-sarcastic, half-curious. She (and the rest of the school) had known of his multiple, unjustified detentions, but Harry had been careful to keep the specific details to himself. Though he and his sister were bonding, he didn't feel comfortable talking about his to her. Likewise, he felt uncomfortable mentioning it to Ron or Hermione, though he knew both suspected something. If they talked it out they could probably deduce most of what had been going on, but Ron and Hermione were fighting more than ever lately, so that was unlikely. This relieved Harry, because he hardly thought that he needed to add to their problems.

"Yeah," he replied to Nashira's question. He paused to remember where he had been in his reply. "So I was with Snape in the Potions room, cleaning cauldrons, and Malfoy was there too, though I don't know why, and kept making all sorts of comments about everything from my hair to my parents. Snape acted like he couldn't hear him."

"And this is a surprise?" asked Nashira.

"Well, no. But I got another detention for telling Malfoy to - er - go away."

Lee snickered. "I'm sure that's exactly how you said it, too," he said with a knowing grin.

"Well, that's hardly the point," said Harry, though he couldn't help but smile back.

"Oh, Harry, you didn't curse him, did you?" asked Hermione, who looked worried.

"I might've," replied Harry vaguely. Deciding to be straightforward with his friend, he continued. "But it was an accident, honest—I didn't even use my wand." The reaction to this statement wasn't what he'd been expecting. Rather than see amusement on Ron's face and mild reproach on Hermione's, he saw both look surprised.

Nashira coughed. "Accidental magic at fifteen? That's normal," she said, obviously sarcastic.

"Wait, what? Isn't it? I mean, that kind of stuff happens around me when I get really upset, and with what Malfoy was saying about - well, he deserved it, anyway."

"That stuff might happen to you, maybe, but not to most people after they turn eleven. For some people, their magic doesn't settle until they're thirteen, but that's really rare, Harry. For you to still have this problem at fifteen is—well—odd. In all kinds of ways," said Nashira. Harry looked at Hermione, who nodded in agreement.

There was a loud bang from the other side of the common room, but before any of the trio could look at the cause Nashira kept talking. Harry looked over and saw that the bang was caused by some sort of demonstration that Fred and George were running, and laughed internally. Apparently, Lee was smirking because he thought that he and Nashira could keep them distracted. It wasn't long before Nashira's talk about her last accidental magic episode—which had happened when she was twelve—stopped distracting Hermione.

"What are they doing?" said Hermione, going into prefect-mode and walking over to Fred and George. Luck, however, was not on her side as the demonstration was finished. Lee and Nashira congratulated each other and gave quick good-byes to the group as they walked over to the part of the room that Fred and George occupied. Harry laughed and Ron cringed as Hermione walked back, looking angry.

"Those two!" she huffed. "And Nashira and Lee are no better, distracting us like that! Honestly, I should give them all detention—"

"You wouldn't do that—"

"—would you, Hermione?" asked the twins. Harry could only tell that George had spoken first because he had his arm around Nashira. Harry ignored the by-play between Hermione and the twins in favor of regaling Ron with the tale of what exactly his magic had done to Malfoy.

And, honestly, he didn't understand why Ron was so shocked or why Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall had been so mad. Harry's magic had only made Malfoy's mouth disappear.

Really, the world was better off now that Draco Malfoy couldn't insult other people's dead mothers.

September 19, 1995 - The Minister for Magic's Office - 10:09 AM

Cornelius Fudge had gone through an interesting morning. He had Apparated in to work and walked into his secretary's office to find the leaders of the American, Canadian, French, and Swiss magical governments demanding a meeting with him. They were not to be put aside, so he granted them an audience. In addition to each leader's bodyguard, there were three American Aurors, two Healers, and two people in cloaks. (At the time, he hadn't noticed the small child that accompanied the cloaked strangers.) The first thought that had run through his mind was a question of just what would make each leader cut down their usual entourages so much.

He, along with Amelia Bones and Rufus Scrimgeour, met with the fifteen foreigners in a secure conference room. After the room was secure, the two people in cloaks had removed their coverings, and Cornelius had been amazed. Ask him what he'd been expecting, and that would not have been it. After confirming their identities in multiple ways, Fudge had almost pulled Harry Potter out of school. Deranged or not, the boy needed to know about this.

Actually, Fudge could actually understand why the boy was mad. Anyone with a family like that—secret half-siblings, parents with magically induced amnesia, hidden inheritances--well, they would be pretty messed up, for sure.

And then Kirkpatrick, the American Secretary of Magic, had pulled out a pensieve. The Potters had said a few things about Dumbledore that Cornelius had found hard to believe (Albus was getting older, yes, but evil? Hardly.) But the memories had been indisputable—indeed, they told a tale that was backed up completely when Amelia, completely disbelieving what she had seen, ordered Veritaserum to be delivered to the room. James and Lily Potter had taken it, and then no one had been doubt.

And then, as if two dead people that weren't really dead popping into his office hadn't been enough, another problem had been unleashed upon him. He had to arrest Albus Dumbledore. The Americans wanted to add charges of their own eventually—unlawful entry into the United States, unlawful use of glamour charms, among other things—but most of Dumbledore's crimes had been committed in Britain.

It wasn't a question of how to arrest Dumbledore, as Rufus had pointed out. A blatant attack would not work, as Dumbledore was still one of the most skilled duelers in the world. A sneak attack (and when Rufus had said this Cornelius could almost see the cogs turning in his mind) would have a much higher chance of succeeding, and was their only choice.

The problem, then, was convincing the Aurors in charge of the attack (and, later on, the Wizengamot) of Dumbledore's guilt. Fudge knew that the public, at least, would not be trouble. He already had the Daily Prophet eating out of his hands, and most of the people he governed over wouldn't even question him. But there were some that wouldn't be willing to just believe him about this. These were the same people who were now regularly going against his campaign to discredit Dumbledore and Harry.

Some of this had been said aloud, and it was only then that James Potter's temper was revealed.

"Alright, look, Minister," said Potter with a truly frightening look on his face, "this has got to stop."

"What has to stop?" asked Fudge, though he had a rather good idea of what the man meant.

"Everything you're doing against my son," said Potter. "All of it. The articles, the speeches, the subtle digs in the Prophet-just stop."

"Do you want your son to sound believable, then?" Fudge asked. "Do you want people to think his lies are true? That He Who Must Not Be Named is back?"

"I want the truth of the matter to be found out," Potter said vehemently. "Talk to him, have Aurors review his memories, but for fuck's sake stop this campaign against him." Mrs. Potter laid a hand on her husband's arm, and he took deep breaths to try and calm down.

"You're bullying a fifteen-year-old boy," said the redhead then. "Not a political opponent, and not even Dumbledore—a boy. When did that become all right for a grown man to do, and especially for his own government to encourage?"

And Fudge sighed.

"You don't understand, madam. Your son entered himself into the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and then lied about doing it."

"Are you sure that someone else didn't enter him? That Harry wasn't telling the truth?"

"Rita Skeeter interviewed him on the matter-"

"If you're telling me that you trust Rita Skeeter's reporting skills-especially when you know how she used to be during the first war, maligning even your own work in Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes-then obviously I have overestimated you, Minister," said Lily coolly. Fudge remembered attending the Potters' funeral, and how people spoke of Lily Potter's cool temper and strong spirit, and rather wished that he hadn't spoke up.

"Madam, I really don't think-"

"Obviously you don't understand," said James, taking over for his wife. "Right now I could call a meeting of the Wizengamot and resolve this. You do remember the Potter seat on that body, yes? We call Harry in, watch his memories of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and everyone will know what happened. But right now we're willing to give you a chance to fix this yourself. Keep talking and that's gone."

And so the meeting ended with Rufus making plans to capture Dumbledore, and with Fudge preparing two issues to bring forth in front of the Wizengamot-those of Dumbledore's crimes and Harry Potter's wild story.

September 19, 1995 - The Secret Headquarters of Lord Voldemort (Location Unknown) - 6:50 PM

"You requested an audience, Lucius?" hissed the Dark Lord. Lucius Malfoy kept his cringe internal by sheer will.

"Yes, my Lord," he said, remaining bowed near the hem of his Lord's robes.

"Stand and speak, then," the Dark Lord said impatiently.

"Something is going on in the Ministry," said Lucius promptly. "A large group of Americans met with Fudge for nearly five hours today, causing me to miss a meeting with him. I instructed one of his secretaries to contact me, only to have her floo my house at four this afternoon and tell me that Fudge would not be available for the next week, at least."

"Is that all you have?" asked Voldemort, his tone dangerous. Internally, Lucius winced. He had known when he arrived that this was a bad idea. The only thing worse than arriving with such a small amount of information would have been saving it for another time. He had chosen the option he thought less likely to get him killed, and he had taken it.

That didn't mean that the Cruciatus Curse cast upon him hurt any less, though.

September 23, 1995 - Albus Dumbledore's Office, Hogwarts – 10:23 AM

"Professor McGonagall said that you wanted to see me, sir?" asked Harry as he sat in a plush chair in Dumbledore's office. He had been working on a Potions essay in the library when his head of house had sought him out, and he was brimming with curiosity. Maybe this had something to do with why Umbridge had suddenly ceased hostilities against he and the Gryffindors who stood by him? Or why Dumbledore wouldn't look at him anymore?

"That is correct, Harry," said Dumbledore. He said it as he looked at a paper on his desk, and Harry was immediately frustrated with Dumbledore's lack of eye contact. More sure now than ever that the headmaster was angry with him, he clenched his jaw.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Minister Fudge has asked to see the both of us today," said Dumbledore. Harry blinked at the statement. Fudge wanted to see them?

"Doesn't mean I'm going," Harry muttered angrily.

"Harry, we must go," said Dumbledore, who sounded disappointed in Harry. "The Minister wishes to start a campaign against Lord Voldemort. Our cooperation is essential."

"Er, what?" Harry replied, completely stunned.

"You may read the letter I received," Dumbledore said as he handed over a parchment that bore the Ministry's seal. Harry's eyes went progressively wider as he read the letter.

"He wants to apologise," said Harry, stunned even more. "That's, that's—"

"Excellent," said Dumbledore. "Are you ready to go?" he asked, looking to Harry's left.

"Yeah," said Harry. His stunned demeanor had evaporated at the reminder that Dumbledore still wouldn't look at him.

"Let us depart, then. This portkey will take us to the main lobby of the Ministry."

Harry hesitated only a moment before taking hold of the portkey. He couldn't help but be nervous over the offer—what if Fudge had something more sinister planned, once he got them to the Ministry?

Then again, Dumbledore was with him. How could things go wrong?

And even though it's shorter than most chapters, this is where it ends. The next part will probably be longer than usual though, if that makes you feel better. (The reason for this is that I looked at my outline and this was really the best part to split up the chapters, because the next one is huge in both word count and plot development.)

Many heartfelt thanks to codenamelily for being an awesome beta. Thanks also to rosiegirl, HarrySirius Fan, and fopalup1 for reviewing the third chapter! If you have time, please review! I love each one. (Really. My LiveJournal friends list knows this all too well!)

This chapter's title comes from the song "Starlight" by Muse. I have no rights to it or to Harry Potter.

Chapter five, Black Holes and Revelations, is under development! (Bonus points to anyone who catches the link between this chapter's title and the next.)

Thanks for reading,
Orion in the Sky :)