Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Harry Potter or Oh My Goddess
Keiichi Morisato, immediate past President of the Nekomi Institute of Technology Motor Club, was woken up by an unusual sensation. Well, unusual in that it was not part of his usual habits, in many other respects it was completely normal.
The sensation was the way the bed shifted as his fiancée got out of bed. Up until Saturday night, he had always slept alone...except for one or two occasions that had occurred before he met Belldandy, which involved a great deal of alcohol. Now he was experiencing his second night of sleeping with somebody else as a normal practice.
It was not something he had ever thought would happen to him. That whole sharing-the-bed-with-the-fiancée thing, that is. He had not been particularly confident or comfortable with girls when he was at high school and the transition to University had not changed anything. Barring those drunken incidents at Motor Club functions, he had been as unattached as ever.
Right up until the rest of the Motor Club had left him to man the phone in the dormitory while they went out to respond to a sudden call from their employers. Being the thoughtful and caring people that they were, they had left the first year engineering student with absolutely nothing to eat. After a full day of hanging by the phone without food, he had called for dinner to be delivered.
Naturally, in a busy town like Nekomi, complete with a large university involved in the cutting edge of research in a number of fields, full of under- and post-graduate students working all sorts of weird hours, nobody was delivering. Something about the concept of "customer service" had apparently eluded most of the restaurant owners in the area.
Several busy minutes spent calling the numbers on every takeaway food menu he could find in the dorm later, and he got a response from something called the "Goddess Relief Office". The person on the other end promised to "be there in just a moment to grant your access request" before the call terminated.
Keiichi was just about to write the whole thing off as a wrong number to some odd technical support helpline when a woman appeared out of the mirror behind him.
Upon being greeted by an exotically dressed woman (and a foreigner, by her appearance) speaking fluent, unaccented Japanese, who had apparently teleported out of the mirror, Keiichi's reaction was natural. He thought it was an elaborate prank on the part of the rest of the Motor Club.
So when he was asked to make a wish, his first instinct was to try and turn the tables on his tormentors by putting the actress they had hired on the spot.
If I had known then what I know now, Keiichi thought to himself wryly, I'd still have made the same wish. But probably in a different tone of voice. "I want a goddess like you to be with me always" - heh, I must have sounded like a sarcastic arsehole.
It had caught them both by surprise when the wish was granted, and the Ultimate Force (something Keiichi still didn't understand properly) started to enforce it.
That was the start of it all. Evicted from the dorm for the crime of inviting a woman inside, getting left the temple by a monk who just had to go on pilgrimage at that instant, the arrival of first one, then the other sister of the goddess I met...
...all because of a contract I formed with Belldandy, goddess first class, second category, unlimited license, Norn of the Present. Oh, and now my fiancée.
It had been a long journey to this point. And more adventure than a fairly normal person like him could ever expect. In fact this latest situation was just another example of what could happen to people who got involved in the affairs of a goddess.
Though this one looked like it was going to be more of a long term event, rather than the "adventure of the week" activity that he had almost become used to at home (he had once joked with Urd that after the third or fourth time, even he got used to watching the world nearly end thanks to some narrowly averted cataclysm).
If what Belldandy said is accurate, I can expect to be based in Britain for the next decade or so. It is strange, this is the first time I have seen the Ultimate Force in action on something other than the wish I made with Bell. It is a bit awe-inspiring, sometimes I feel like a leaf caught up in the torrent of a river...
Not that he was going to complain about it. In some respects this mission the Norns had been issued had forced him to take the next step and finally acknowledge what everybody had seen as the inevitable.
Marriage to Belldandy.
That was the best moment of my life, when she said yes. It makes me wish I had been brave enough to propose years ago.
Now, however, the perils of Monday beckoned. The empty space beside him was a reminder that he had to get up and ready himself. His new job at Triumph Motorcycles awaited him, as did breakfast and his ongoing quest to improve his English skills.
Working with Harry yesterday was a great help in that regard, Keiichi mused, working on the bike allowed me to relax and stop worrying about making mistakes in my speech.
Thinking of Harry reminded the young engineer of several things on his "to do" list. Need to remember to ask at work about any bike clubs I can get Harry involved with, as we don't have the space for him to learn how to ride here. Plus, I really want to find out just what Urd has done to Harry's relatives.
Belldandy looked around the dining room with a satisfied air as everybody got stuck into the morning's repast. Today's effort had been produced with the assistance of Harry, who apparently enjoyed cooking in a household that appreciated his efforts. The two had quickly meshed into an efficient team, and the food preparation process had gone quickly and smoothly.
It had also given Belldandy an opportunity to learn more about this person that she was now responsible for. Not to mention start the first stages of trying to heal the emotional and spiritual damage that Harry had suffered during his time with the Dursleys.
The thought of Harry's ex-family (as she preferred to think of them) disturbed Belldandy deeply. She found it hard to believe that anybody could be that cruel to a small child regardless of their background. The Norn of the Present was easily the most forgiving and understanding of the three sisters, but she had been sorely tempted to mete out some form of divine judgement for the...evil she had seen.
She had resisted the temptation, of course. A goddess of her responsibility could not afford to take such direct action, the Dursleys would be judged in due time just like everyone else. Though she had a suspicion that her older sister Urd might have taken matters into her own hands to a limited extent. She would have to press the Norn of the Past on that later.
Today promised to be full. She would personally have to sort out Harry's future education, given that he had been arbitrarily pulled from his previous school just a week or so before the end of term. The three goddesses had already made plans to home-school Harry until September, when he would commence what was termed "Year Five" in England. Said home-schooling would involve the start of Harry's magical education, as none of the goddesses involved in planning his curriculum placed any faith in the magical world's idea that 11 years old was the earliest that somebody could be taught to use their magic.
In addition to sorting out schooling, Urd wanted to head to the Ministry of Magic again to investigate some issues regarding Harry's files. Belldandy had no idea what Urd wanted, but assumed that it had to do with Albus Dumbledore. On top of all that, they were all waiting for Eir to get back to them with a diagnosis of the strange scan results they had of Harry's scar.
Breakfast was now concluding, and Belldandy stood to take empty plates back to the kitchen. As she did, she glanced at the ring that was prominent on her left ring finger. Just the sight of it sent a warm feeling through her. She quickly placed the used crockery on the kitchen sink, before she went to kiss Keiichi goodbye as he left to go to work.
Urd strode through the Ministry of Magic, headed for the first counter she could see that actually had somebody behind it. Not that she expected that she would get anything useful out said person, the point was to maintain appearances.
It didn't help that Skuld was accompanying her today. Belldandy had insisted that Skuld start to learn about the society that they would be interacting with from now on, and as such Urd had an unwanted companion for this small errand. Skuld didn't look all that impressed either, no doubt she wanted to be back home trying to get Sigel's legs to work.
Urd swept up to the only manned (actually womaned, by the looks of it) counter in sight in a dramatic fashion. She had dressed for the occasion, portraying to the world the very image of a powerful and important witch who had every right to be where she was. Of course this meant dressing in robes that were at least a hundred years out of date if not more, but that was the price one had to pay for depicting the right image. Even Skuld was dressed for the occasion, which might go some way to explaining her somewhat sullen visage.
Unfortunately, the witch behind the counter was more interested in her copy of "Witch Weekly" than she was in actually doing her job. After waiting for a moment for the inattentive Ministry flunkey to notice her, Urd cleared her throat. Loudly.
This caused some flurry on the other side of the counter as the witch lost her hold of the apparently engrossing magazine. After a minute of trying to regain her composure, she looked at the people who had dared interrupt her with a sneer. Said sneer evaporated when she took in the clothing of her visitors.
"Um, yes? Can I help you?" The receptionist asked in a timid tone.
"Yes," Urd replied, "you can tell me where I can find the records of trials."
"Um, trials?" The nervous witch asked. Urd suppressed a sigh.
"Yes, trials. You know, those public events in which the guilt or innocence of an accused person is determined? Sometimes followed up by a sentence being passed?"
"Oh," was the response, "er. Try the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
"Thank you," Urd said calmly, "can you give me directions?"
Some stammered directions later, and the two Norns were on their way deeper into the Ministry building.
"Why are you so interested in some old trial records anyway?" Skuld asked. "What use could they be to us now?"
Urd did not bother to suppress this sigh. "Skuld, my darling bratty sister, you have a lot to learn about handling affairs here on Midgard. Rule one: knowing is half the battle."
Skuld bristled at the insult, but refrained from responding in kind. Belldandy told me to be on my best behaviour. "What do you mean by that?"
"What I mean is that it is always better to operate with full knowledge of the situation," Urd said simply, "as it can help you avoid screwing things up by accident. In this case, we only know part of the story of how Harry ended up at the Dursleys. For that matter, we only know part of the story of how his parents were killed. The little we do know suggests that this Sirius Black person betrayed the Potter family to Voldemort. As he was supposedly a close friend of the Potters before that, it is out of character. I want to find out what his reasons were, and the trial transcript is the best place to start."
"Why not talk to him directly?" Skuld asked.
"They caught him after he killed another friend of the Potter family, a wizard by the name of Peter Pettigrew," Urd explained, "in the process he also killed a dozen non-magical people. These days, Sirius Black is at Azkaban, the prison this Ministry operates. Getting in and talking to him would be very difficult, as they normally don't allow visitors."
"I suppose that makes sense," Skuld allowed, "but what will knowing his reasons tell us?"
"Maybe not a great deal," Urd admitted, "what I'm really hoping for is an account of what happened the night the Potters were killed. The only witnesses were James and Lily Potter, Harry and Voldemort. Harry was too young to remember anything concrete, and the other three aren't available for obvious reasons. This Sirius Black is the closest person to those events who is still alive. We'll start with the trial records, focussing on his testimony, and then decide if we need to get ourselves a face to face meeting with him."
Skuld nodded. It made sense. Then another thought occurred.
"By the way, just what is it that you did to the Dursleys?" The Norn of the Future asked pointedly.
Urd looked at her with a small smile. "Why, what makes you think I did anything?"
"I know you too well," Skuld said firmly, "there's no way you could pass up on making them pay for what they did to Harry. Plus Belldandy wanted me to ask you, as she suspected you did something as well."
Urd's smile blossomed into a full grin. "Well, it wasn't much. I just made Vernon's own character flaws work against him."
Skuld looked puzzled. "What does that mean?"
Urd now looked gleeful. "Well..."
Vernon Dursley strode into the main headquarters building of Grunnings Drills with a serious look on his face. Internally, however, he was almost dancing with joy. Not only was he finally rid of the damned freak, but today he was attending the final interview for that promotion to be a Director. After that the next step was to be appointed the Managing Director, replacing the long line of family members who had achieved their positions through nepotism rather than merit.
He was pretty much assured this promotion. He had heard from his friends further up in the chain of command that the other candidates didn't have the right connections. Vernon had made sure that he was a member of the right golf club, attended the right social events and gambled at the right racing events over the years to get the patronage that had seen him through three promotions. The other candidates just didn't have his background in politicking, and as a result they would not get a look in.
Vernon strode his way to the receptionist's office just outside the boardroom where the interview would take place. He was going up in front of a panel comprised of a good percentage of the Board of Directors (junior management people were often confused as to the difference between the Board of Directors and the Directors who ran the company on a day to day basis, but the confusion usually cleared up after the first "meet the boss" function). Meeting the Board, or at least part of it, would be another good opportunity to impress people and make connections. Years of interviews and management reviews had given Vernon excellent skills at bullshitting people, and he was confident that today's event would be just another day of sweet-talking people who knew less about his job than he did.
As he entered the office, he looked around for a place to hang his overcoat. He didn't need it on a day like today, but image was important and the overcoat did help hide his girth. A bit. Unfortunately, it looked like this office was without any coat racks. Fortunately, there was a secretary hanging around without anything to do.
"You there!" Vernon barked as he took off his coat and thrust it at the woman, "Hang this up for me somewhere."
The woman looked at him with a faintly surprised expression. "Excuse me?"
Vernon's temper rose slightly at the impertinence of this overpaid typist. "You heard me! Hang my coat up for me somewhere safe. There isn't anywhere to hang it in here and I don't have the time to search the building looking for a cloakroom - I'm a busy man."
The secretary's left eyebrow raised. "Is that so?"
"Yes!" Vernon snapped as he thrust his garment into her arms. As he walked away he muttered "Lousy jumped up tart of a secretary, doesn't know her place in the company..."
He didn't notice that the woman he had been giving orders to had heard his parting comment, nor did he see her unceremoniously drape his coat over the back of a chair with some contempt.
Inside the boardroom, Vernon saw what was obviously his chair facing those of the panel. It had its back to the door, and was the only one on Vernon's side of the table while the other side had seven chairs set up already. Each chair had a name tag sitting in front of it. Five of the panel members were already seated, and were generally involved in shuffling papers and talking amongst themselves. One of them looked up as Vernon entered.
"Ah, Mr Dursley. Do take a seat, dear chap, we'll be ready to start just as soon as the other two arrive."
Vernon settled into his chair, grateful for the chance to get his large weight off his feet. He eyed off the panel opposite him, matching names to faces.
Suddenly he heard the door behind him open and close, with the sound of two people entering. He didn't turn around, as it might be perceived as a sign of nervousness. That and he wasn't really built for twisting around in his chair.
The last two members of the panel walked around to their places at the table. Vernon went pale as he saw the secretary he all but thrown his coat at sit at a place marked "Alice Grunning". She saw his look and smiled at the overweight manager.
Vernon swallowed. This would not be a good interview.
Skuld looked at Urd in shock. "You did what?"
Urd was almost laughing in glee. "I cast a little charm that would make his natural bigotry get the better of his sense of self preservation at exactly the wrong time. All it will do is make his true character blatantly obvious to people he really doesn't want to offend."
Skuld stared at Urd in disbelief. "Is that all? No boils, no plagues, no permanent curse?"
Urd glared. "Hey, what kind of person do you take me for?" Skuld simply raised her eyebrows. "OK, don't answer that question..."
Vernon slumped back at his desk, feeling more than a little shell-shocked. Bloody hell, what the fuck came over me? Vernon had built a large part of his career on knowing when to express his views and when to keep them hidden. He also knew better than to treat any female employee of Grunnings the way he had. Some of them were getting quite smart, and the threat of harassment claims was growing larger every day. Bloody Thatcher is giving them ideas.
The interview had not gone well. The long and the short of it was that thanks to Alice Grunning, apparently the grand-niece of the founder of the firm or some rot of that order, he had not only been rejected for the role of Director but he had actually been censured. There was now an official Black Mark on his record, which scuppered any chance of a future promotion.
There was also his new role in the company. He hadn't been demoted, for which he was eternally grateful, as he hadn't quite shown cause for that (though Vernon was sure that Alice Grunning would have him fired if she could). No, he had been put in charge of...
...Stores. Vernon Dursley, Group Manager of Stores. A dead-end job if ever there was one. What was worse, everybody would know it. Stores was the final stop for managers in Grunnings. There was no chance to impress anybody - no sales to be made, no innovations to champion, no processes to improve. If you did your job absolutely perfectly nobody would notice, as that was what they expected of Stores. They sent requests for inventory to be delivered, and it happened. Nobody noticed what happened in Stores, unless you screwed up. Then you got noticed, big time.
This is the end of my career, Vernon thought miserably, I'll be stuck in this dead-end job until I retire. He had no illusions about his chances of getting a job elsewhere. There was no way he could leave Grunnings with a good reference. Not after that little incident with Alice Grunning. At least I avoided a cut in salary.
He glanced at his desk, knowing that he'd have to pack it up soon for the move to the Stores department. As he did, he noticed a letter addressed to him waiting right in the middle of his blotter. Odd, I don't remember seeing that when I came in.
He picked it up, and saw that it was simply addressed to "Vernon Dursley". No address, no office number, just his name. Puzzled, he opened the envelope and withdrew the letter.
Hi Vernon, he read.
If you are reading this, then the little present I left for you has taken effect. Wondering why your mouth got the better of your common sense? All thanks to a little charm I cast on you when I left with your dear nephew, Harry.
Vernon's complexion went purple. That bitch used her freakish powers on me? He read on.
It was nothing much, just something that would make your secret bigotry obvious at a moment when it would hurt. To be honest I'm not sure when it will fire, but I have no doubt that somebody in your position will be enjoying the fruits of my gift very soon.
Consider this a very mild form of payback for the way you abused your nephew. And be grateful - if my mother were involved, you would have suffered a lot more than having your bigoted views used against you.
Urd Odinsdotter
Vernon's scream of rage went unnoticed in the busy offices at Grunnings.
The office of the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement reflects the importance of the position. It is large, with space enough for a large desk, multiple bookshelves and an "entertainment area". The last item consisted of a few comfortable armchairs clustered around a coffee table, although the absence of any form of tea service and the presence of a well disguised bar stocked with fortified wines and spirits was a good indication of the actual drinks that were normally served.
As far as the current Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was concerned, the whole thing stank of the nature of previous occupants. The Ministry had a track history of appointing people from outside the Department to the role of Director, officially to "bring in new views and ideas". Unofficially, it was well known that the job was considered a political stepping stone within the Ministry as well as a place to indulge in the perks. For most of its history, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had actually been run by the Divisional heads while the Director had been off attending various social functions, revelling in being an "important person". The decor said a lot about the self-indulgence of previous occupants.
Frankly, it took Amelia Bones days to suppress the desire to torch the whole room and set herself up in a much smaller office elsewhere. The enormous office could easily be turned into another conference room, which would be a far more efficient use of the space. She had only been in the job for a year, and the opulence grated on her nerves.
There were, however, good reasons for keeping the room as it was. For one thing, the security measures put in place were the best in the entire Ministry building outside of the Department of Mysteries. For another, the large room was useful for intimidating people who dared venture inside her office when she was working. Madam Bones, as she was almost always called by her subordinates, had taken on the responsibilities of her office with serious determination. Consequently, she was a busy woman, especially since her job carried with it a seat in the Wizengamot. Notionally this was to allow her to fulfil the other role of the Director, which was to act as a judge on occasion, but it carried with it full voting power.
Madam Bones was having a typical Monday morning, which revolved around dealing with yet another rejected request for additional funding (Bagnold seemed to think that the death of You-Know-Who had abolished crime), handling any important correspondence that had come in over the weekend (usually missives from the Hungarian Ministry, who seemed to do all their work on Saturday nights) and reviewing the various reports, memos and discussion papers generated by the Heads of Department.
It was not work calculated to put a person in a good mood. So when her secretary (who doubled as a bodyguard) knocked on the door, she looked up in the hope that some minor crisis might be important enough to drag her away from the red tape that threatened to drown her.
"Come in."
The door opened and her secretary walked in a few paces.
"Madam Bones, I have Miss Urd Odinsdotter and Miss Skuld Odinsdotter here to see you."
Amelia frowned. Who?
"Do they have an appointment to see me?" The Director asked dryly.
"No Madam Bones, but they did say it was important."
Amelia sighed. Maybe it'll give me a break from the bloody paperwork. "OK, show them in."
The people who entered were very interesting to the Auror-trained Director. On first impressions, they were dressed at a level that suggested significant wealth and bore themselves with the supreme confidence of somebody who knows that they can buy you and your entire family with pocket change. Beyond that, there was no family resemblance for two women with the same surname. One had very tan skin and silver hair, while the other one (a teenager, by the looks of things) had pale skin and black hair.
Closer examination suggested that these two did have some common ancestry somewhere. The facial features were close enough to suggest that they probably shared at least one parent, though probably not both. Maybe half-sisters, or close cousins. We'll find out.
"Madam Bones?" The elder of the two enquired.
"I am Madam Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." Amelia stated formally. It sometimes paid to remind people of what her job was. "How can I help you?"
The pair moved forward at an even pace. "May we be seated?" The eldest asked. Amelia simply nodded.
The two settled in chairs in front of the Director's desk. The tanned one spoke up.
"I am seeking help with a request I have."
Amelia raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What request is that? And before we go on, which of you is Urd and which is Skuld?"
The older woman looked slightly abashed. "My apologies. I am Urd, this is my sister Skuld." The teenager nodded at the introduction.
"Thank you. Now, your request?" Madam Bones asked neutrally.
"I wish to see the trial records and transcripts for Sirius Black the Third, currently incarcerated at Azkaban for the crime of killing 12 non-magical people and a wizard called Peter Pettigrew." Urd stated simply.
Amelia frowned. She knew of Black, naturally, but why were these people in her office?
"Why have you come to me with this request? I don't normally handle court records." She asked a little acidly.
Skuld's expression changed from boredom to annoyance, while Urd gave a tired smile.
"We have come here because no one else can - or will - help. We started at the help desk that you have set up and they directed us to the office of the Court Scribe. When we got there, we found another help-desk, but this one was a misnomer because they didn't help us. We were told that they couldn't find the records and that therefore we couldn't see them. I asked to see somebody more senior, and eventually ended up with the Court Scribe himself. He told us that the records were not available. I pressed him, and told me - rather brusquely - that if I was really concerned that I should come and see you. So here I am." Urd finished her oration with a smirk.
Amelia gritted her teeth. Peter Weatherby and I will have words about this.
"I see. Well, now that you are here I suppose it behoves me as an officer of the Wizengamot to help you. But, if I may ask...why do you want to see the records of a trial that happened almost eight years ago?"
Skuld was looking bored again. Urd's smile did not slip. "Lily Potter was our first cousin, once removed."
The Director was just a little startled by that statement. Relatives of the Boy-Who-Lived?
"I see. And so you wish to see the trial records because...?"
Urd sighed. "When it comes to the death of our cousin, we only know what is on the public record. Sirius Black was implicated in betraying our relative to Voldemort-" Amelia flinched at hearing the name, "-and we have no information as to why. By all accounts James Potter and he were very close friends. We were hoping that he might have given some of his motives away during his testimony. It might give us some closure, if nothing else."
Amelia could understand that. She had spent years wondering about what had motivated the Death Eaters who had murdered her older brother, and witnessing their trials had been cathartic.
Well, this was as good an excuse as any to get away from the pile of paperwork on her desk. Plus it will give me a chance to see if Archives is doing their job properly.
Madam Bones stood up, which prompted her guests to follow suit. "Very well. I will accompany you to the office of the Court Scribe, where we will find the relevant records even if we have to search the shelves ourselves." And I'll issue some reminders that people assigned to help-desk duty are meant to actually help members of the public.
Belldandy was currently enjoying the sensation of driving her new car. Normally, she didn't particularly care about driving one way or another; it was just another task necessary to blend in on Earth. Racing with Keiichi had been different, because it was more than just a way of getting somewhere. Racing was a test of skill, with more than just a bit of adrenaline thrown in.
Though to be honest she enjoyed racing for the same reason she was enjoying her new car. It was because Keiichi was involved.
Belldandy got into racing because Keiichi was part of the Nekomi Tech Motor Club. She'd enjoyed it primarily because it was something she could share with him. Later she discovered that she enjoyed it for its own sake, but racing without Keiichi was never as satisfying as racing with him. She especially enjoyed sidecar racing - particularly after the pair of them had raced Chihiro's custom sidecar racer against the spirit of a lost bike.
Today, however, Belldandy was not racing. Nor was she driving with Keiichi. She did have a passenger, one Harry James Potter. The pair of them had a few tasks to achieve in the local area today, and Belldandy had decided that it was a good opportunity to try out Keiichi's present.
Task number one had already been completed. A quick review of the phone directory had revealed that there was a primary school within easy walking distance of their home, and the pair of them had paid a visit. After some negotiation, Harry's transfer from his previous school in Little Whinging was sorted out for the 1989/90 academic year. Belldandy made the effort to inform the headmaster of Harry's previous "difficult" home situation while Harry was being shown around the school library. The headmaster had assured Belldandy that they would keep an eye out for any potential problems that might arise.
After that, it had been time to go shopping. Belldandy had declared Harry's meagre wardrobe of Dudley's cast-offs to be completely inadequate and had taken her ward on a tour of the local clothing stores. The boot of the car was now packed with Harry's new garments, which left the Norn of the Present wondering if they'd have room for the final item she wanted to acquire this morning. She spotted her destination on Stockwell Head, and gave Harry a quick smile.
"Just one more thing, then we can go home for lunch."
Harry smiled in return. The day had been awesome so far - it was the first time he could remember somebody buying him new clothes. He'd even enjoyed the experience. For all that he wasn't that fond of having to constantly try on new items, the running conversation he'd had with Belldandy (who, after Harry had called her "Miss Odinsdotter", had insisted that he call her "Aunty Bell") over the course of the shopping spree had allowed him to get to know her more. He'd already started that process when they had worked together in the garden and the kitchen, but today had allowed the pair to learn about each other beyond their mutual thoughts on gardening and cooking.
"Sounds great, Aunty!"
At the Ministry of Magic, Director Amelia Bones was in a foul mood. This was reflected in her expression, not that her two guests appeared to notice or care. Urd was currently examining shelf labels with a disinterested air while Skuld was looking around as if she wanted to dismantle everything in the room and rebuild it into something more efficient.
Truth be told, Amelia half wished that Skuld would give into the impulse and do exactly that. They were currently deep inside the Wizengamot archives, undertaking the pains-taking task of searching box after box of trial transcripts. The room had obviously been designed and filled with the idea of packing the maximum quantity of parchment in the minimum amount of space, with no consideration for the possibility that anybody might actually want to retrieve any of the records later on.
Naturally, this made finding and extracting any records an extraordinarily difficult task. It didn't help that the Chief Archivist appeared to be completely useless.
When Amelia Bones had arrived at the office of the Court Scribe, the staff had been a lot more eager to help than they had been when two civilians had asked for assistance earlier. But when Madam Bones had asked for the records of Sirius Black's trial, the helpfulness had proven futile.
The damn files were just impossible to find.
There had been any number of suggestions as to where to look. The DMLE had its own archive system which was mostly intended to store files relevant to its day to day tasks, but some trial records were stored there in case of a repeat offence (Amelia had personally seen to the relocation of all of Lucius Malfoy's legal records from the main archives into the DMLE's system). Unfortunately, there was no trace of Sirius Black's legal processes in there.
Nor had they been in the archives of the Court Scribe. The master archive of the Wizengamot was the last resort. It contained the official record of every bit of business that went before the Wizengamot, so there was plenty of chaff to wade through (Amelia was amazed at how the regulations regarding the thickness of cauldron bottoms had been turned into a pressing issue worthy of four hours of debate just four days after the death of You-Know-Who, apparently at the instigation of one Peter Weatherby).
Coincidentally, said idiot chose that moment to interrupt her thoughts. "Madam Bones? I have retrieved the Principis Carta. Would you care to come out where there is light?"
Amelia just nodded, and shoved the box she had been rifling through back onto its shelf without much care. She walked out to find the Principis Carta waiting for her on a large table. She was only dimly aware that she had been followed by the Odinsdotter sisters.
The Principis Carta was the official record of all Wizengamot business, and had been since it had been known as the Wizard's Council. Rumours of the book's origins were varied, but what interested Amelia was its contents. To save space, the book only recorded the topics of discussion, next to the date and time of the debate.
Thus, on the day that Peter Weatherby had seen fit to waste everybody's time with talk about cauldrons, the Principis Carta had the following entry: "4th of November, Anno Domini 1981, 9 A.M. to 1 P.M. - Debate regarding proposed regulations for cauldron manufacture".
It was fairly dry stuff, and did not include finer details such as the fact that only three people had remained awake for the entire four hour debate. The main value in the Principis Carta was as a master index for the archives. Once you knew when a particular issue was discussed in front of the Wizengamot, finding it in the archives was a lot easier.
It had taken the Court Scribe a good hour and a half to find the priceless relic of the past. Amelia already had a whole series of punishment tasks mentally mapped out for the inept bureaucrat.
"OK, let us see here..." Urd muttered as she leant over the tome. Amelia moved to join her, and they started to work their way down the list.
"We know Black killed Pettigrew and twelve muggles on the 3rd of November," Amelia muttered, "he was arrested on the spot. His trial should have taken place shortly after that."
Urd and Amelia started to work their way down the list of proceedings as Skuld tried to convince Weatherby of the need to modernise the archive system. They quickly skimmed over several weeks of Wizengamot activity, including many famous trials of Death Eaters.
Eventually, Urd leaned back. "We've just reached June of 1983, and there has been no mention of a trial for Sirius Black. In fact his name hasn't appeared once. Isn't there something regarding Habeas Corpus for this?"
Amelia paused to think. "There is nothing that requires a trial by a certain date, but if somebody were held in custody for an extended period without trial they would be in a position to file a writ of Habeas Corpus which would have forced his release."
Urd looked at the Director for a moment. "Let's go through the rest of this book and find out just when Sirius Black did go to trial. It has to be in here somewhere."
Amelia nodded. "This explains why we didn't find it in the archives. We didn't look beyond 1982."
The search through the large book continued, interrupted only by Madam Bones calling for lunch to be delivered. Eventually, they reached a blank page. Amelia turned it over, only to find another blank page. She quickly riffled through the rest of the book, only to find it bereft of any text. They had obviously reached the end of the current records.
The Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement looked at the book in disbelief. "This can't be right...we found no mention of Black anywhere."
Urd looked thoughtful. "I doubt that we could have both missed it. So that means..."
"...that Sirius Black has never gone to trial." Amelia finished. The two women looked at each other for a moment. Urd finally broke the silence.
"Say, Sirius Black was at least charged with murder, wasn't he? My understanding is that even if you have no time limit on when the trial happens, there is a limit on how long you can hold somebody without charge, correct?"
Amelia's mind whirled at the implications. "That record would be in the Auror's archive. We'd better go look."
Amelia Bones, Urd Odinsdotter and a disgruntled Skuld Odinsdotter marched from the office of the Court Scribe in a determined fashion, headed straight for the Auror Department.
Harry looked at his Aunty Bell with an astonished expression. He had never had anything like this happen to him before...
Belldandy looked back with her ever-present smile. "Right, now that we've unpacked it, we can assemble your new bicycle. Then you can start to learn how to ride it, OK?"
Harry just nodded dumbly. He'd never had a bike before.
At the Auror's archive, Amelia Bones was just about ready to spit chips. She had no less than five Aurors assisting her in this search, and they had found...nothing. No record of Sirius Black ever being charged with the murder of one wizard and twelve muggles. Not even the most basic of charge sheets to be found.
It was enough to tax Amelia's badly strained patience to the limit. Either our record keeping is brilliant at losing things, or...
...Sirius Black has been in Azkaban since 1981 without having been charged or tried.
Even if he was a murderous scumbag, this total violation of the justice system made Amelia's blood boil. There were laws for a reason, damn it.
She beckoned for the most senior Auror in the room to come over. Once he was in range, she started to give orders in a low voice.
"Deputy Auror Chief Scrimgeour, I want you to take nine of your most trusted Aurors to Azkaban immediately. You are to take Sirius Black into custody and bring him to the cells here at the Ministry of Magic. Get him medical attention, and do not leave him unsupervised at any time."
Rufus Scrimgeour nodded. He was the most senior Auror in the department after the Chief, and this case looked like it might damage anybody who was even remotely involved in Black's original arrest. Which, by some happy coincidence, included the current Chief but did not include Scrimgeour. This could mean an early promotion, Rufus thought to himself.
Amelia Bones turned to her two guests, both of whom were looking with interest at the frantic activity that had erupted in the wake of the Director's orders. "I am sorry that this has taken so much time. It appears that Sirius Black has not only never been tried, but he hasn't been charged either. I have a court case to organise and an investigation to run, so if you will excuse me..."
"Thank you for your time and effort," Urd said smoothly, "I believe we can find our way out."
Amelia nodded to the pair, before stomping off in the direction of her office. She would have to call her niece on the Floo and let her know that she would probably not get home tonight. Fortunately, the niece (and ward) of the Director of the DMLE rated bodyguards who could take care of the 9 year old girl while her loving aunt was busy.
As the two Norns walked through the Ministry, Skuld noticed that they weren't heading for the exit. "Hey, where are we going now?"
Urd gave her a chagrined look. "We're going to the other thing I wanted to get done at the Ministry. That first task shouldn't have taken us more than an hour, and I wanted to see if I could get all of our pressing Ministry business done before lunch. I hadn't expected that mess with the archives."
Skuld sighed. "I'm just surprised that they haven't lost more files, given how badly organised it all was. Just one thing..."
Urd looked over inquiringly. "Yes?"
Skuld skewered her oldest sister with a glare. "How come this was a surprise to you? Wasn't all this in Harry's Yggdrasil file, or Sirius Black's?"
Urd grimaced. "No. We're operating under Prophecy Fulfilment rules now, so the data we have access to is restricted."
Skuld blinked. "What rules?" Urd glanced at her sister in disbelief.
"I would have thought you'd know about these better than anyone, considering the work you did in the Prophecies section. When a Prophecy is classified as being endangered such that agents are assigned to fix the situation, all data relating to the subjects of the Prophecy is restricted. In this case, that not only covers Harry's file, but the files of those who are close to him as well. In this case it was Sirius Black, but we'll run into similar problems with Voldemort's file and Dumbledore's."
Skuld now looked exasperated. "That'll make this whole job really hard! Why do they do this?"
Urd shrugged. "Ask Father the next time you talk to him. It is his rule. I think it has something to do with the nature of the Prophecies themselves."
"What do you mean?" Skuld asked.
Urd had a look of concentration. "We know that the Almighty has some grand plan worked out, even if we don't know what it is. Because free will exists, sometimes we have to act to put things back on the course the Almighty has in mind. That can mean a wish, as Belldandy granted to Keiichi, or it could just be having a field agent do something as basic as giving small change to a beggar on the street. Prophecies are another tool of divine intervention, and the one that gets used the most."
"Why is that?" Skuld asked.
"Because a properly implemented Prophecy will have humans do all the work," Urd explained, "all we do is point them in the right direction. Father believes that it is better to have people work to help themselves rather than do the work for them."
"That makes sense," Skuld said thoughtfully, "so when agents are sent to resolve problems with a Prophecy..."
"...we are only meant to do what is needed to get things back on course." Urd finished for her. "In this case, we are to arrange things such that the magical world will solve its own problems according to the rough directions set out by the Prophecy."
"So that's why we can't get access to all of the files," Skuld said as understanding dawned, "because we might be tempted to go and fix everything ourselves."
Urd nodded. "Exactly. We could deal with this whole problem in a few weeks if we had all the resources of Asgard at our disposal and a directive to sort it all out. But humanity would learn nothing if we did, hence this long and convoluted process of helping them help themselves."
"Fine." Skuld said. "Now what was the other thing you wanted to do here?"
Urd pointed at a sign on a door ahead. "Floo Network Authority. I'm going to get us hooked up to the Floo Network. Remember that fireplace in the living room?"
Skuld looked surprised. "The one we never use because the house now has a central water heating system?"
"Yeah, that one. It is perfect for the Floo Network, all we'll need to do is rig it with gas burners. Unless you really want to be shovelling coal."
Skuld shuddered. "I'll pass, thanks. What about security?"
Urd looked at her sister approvingly. "Well done, that was good forward thinking. We'll have to set up a runic array on the mantle that will allow us to control access, and even shut it down when we don't want it. I was thinking of giving you that project - it'll allow you to practice your runes and array formulation."
Skuld beamed. It wasn't every day that Urd gave her responsibility for an important job.
Urd went on. "I'll also be placing charms on the records here. We don't want anybody finding out our address through the Floo Network Authority. Not that it'll slow down anybody determined, but let's make their job as hard as possible. Watch my spellwork closely, Skuld, you'll have to learn how to do this kind of thing yourself."
The two sisters entered the Floo Network Authority, and found the help desk was unattended. Skuld looked at Urd.
"I do hope this doesn't take as long as the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." Urd just nodded in reply.
Urd and Skuld arrived home from their trip to the Ministry at roughly the same time that Keiichi returned from his job. After Harry had shown them his new bicycle, they all pitched in to help with preparing dinner.
While they were eating, Belldandy and Harry monopolised the conversation as they discussed their day. Keiichi sympathised with Harry regarding the trauma of clothes shopping, which amused the women at the table no end. Harry then went on to talk about his first bicycle lessons, which prompted Skuld to talk about her painful experiences in learning how to ride.
Later that evening, after Harry had gone to bed, the Norns gathered for another situation update. Keiichi had obligingly gone to read his English textbooks in another room.
Belldandy received the news regarding Sirius Black calmly, though her sisters could see that she was quite upset at the apparent injustice of the situation. They had started to make contingency plans for the possible outcomes of the new investigation that had been launched by the DMLE when Skuld's watch chimed.
"We've got mail," the youngest Norn said briefly, before she accessed her terminal.
"Ah, we've got the response from Eir regarding Harry's scar." She reported. "It looks large."
"Forward copies to us, dear, and we can read through it ourselves." Belldandy directed gently.
Skuld tapped out some commands, and soon all three sisters were engrossed in the long and complex report that had been sent by the Goddess of Healing. Once they had all finished, there was a long period of silence that was finally broken by Belldandy.
"Oh dear. This is a bit more complicated than I thought it would be."
Urd and Skuld stared at their sister for a moment, before they looked at each other. Only Belldandy could call this cluster-fuck "a bit more complicated" like that, Urd thought to herself.
Author's notes: once again, many thanks to the caring people at Caer Azkaban who have helped me make this story vaguely canon compliant, as well as keeping my portrayal of life in 1980s England semi-accurate.
Regarding Auror ranks - I'm going to use an adaptation of existing English Police ranks, replacing "Commissioner" with "Chief" (there might be a few other alterations). This isn't canonical but I needed something to establish Scrimgeour's place in the pecking order.
There is actually a school fairly close to where I have placed the Norns in Hinckley. I have no idea if it was there in 1989 or if it is a good school or not - in this universe there was a decent school within easy walking distance of the Norns' church.
Regarding Bagnold, the best information I have states that her term as Minister of Magic was basically the same as Thatcher's term as Prime Minister, 1979-90. At the time this chapter is set, Bagnold is still the Minister.
Next chapter: Tuesday happens.