A Knut to Start the Revolution
Chapter 10
Disclaimer: This work of fan-fiction is not intended for personal profit. All characters utilized herein which are not creations of myself belong to J. K. Rowling.
"Thirty-four— Thirty-five—" Harry gasped. "Thirty-six— Ihatedoingsitups— Thirty-seven—"
A few minutes later, with a final wheeze, Harry gasped out, "Fifty!"
He sprawled on the floor, gasped, then relaxed as he let his breathing slow down.
Harry Potter was in the middle of an exercise routine he'd worked out for himself. After he got the notion to start a physical fitness regime of some kind, he'd decided to do situps and pushups every day as he could stay inside his room and not have his relatives annoying him. He'd started out with twenty situps and twenty push-ups and worked his way up. It wasn't fun, but it was a better way to kill time than lying about on his bed, or stuffing his brain so full of book knowledge that he'd out-Hermione Hermione.
Nymphadora Tonks had written to him on the messenger parchment, saying she'd be over later that day for some defence work; he made a note to ask if it would be all right if she'd run around the neighbourhood with him. He wanted to build up his endurance in the event that he needed to escape from Death Eaters for any reason.
Harry started to feel relaxed enough that he forgot to clear his mind and fell asleep on the floor of his bedroom at Privet Drive.
/\/\/\
He was in the Room of Requirement with Hermione, and somehow, Hermione had turned into a girl. His eyes moved of their own accord to her… assets; hurriedly, he snapped his eyes back up to her face, which showed her amusement.
Blushing, he mumbled, "Sorry, Hermione."
Without a word, she launched herself at the Harry, the way she usually did after the separation of summertime, but on this occasion she kissed him, thoroughly and soundly. Before he could process further, clothes were flying everywhere and the Room had provided a bed for the two of them to lie on.
Harry moved his hand to Hermione's chest area…
/\/\/\
He woke with a start, breathing hard as his body shook from the wet dream. He registered that his pants felt somewhat sticky, and let his head fall back against the floorboards with a thunk. In that respect, Harry Potter wasn't much different from any other teenage male who wanked at least once a day and occasionally had sexually-charged dreams about the opposite or same gender, depending on preference.
However, noticing that Hermione was actually a girl girl and not just a friend girl was… unsettling. He also realised that he had forgotten to go through his Occlumency exercises when he had felt tired, and his heart raced as he realised it could have been a lot worse than his own mind teasing him about one of his best friends.
Harry grabbed his wand and cleaned himself, vanishing the traces of his wet dream. He felt a lot more comfortable as he sat at his desk and activated the messenger parchment. Tonks had sent confirmation that she'd be visiting later that day just after lunch.
He quickly dashed off a message to Dumbledore to inquire as to whether Sirius Black had a will, and if it could be read and handled even though the Ministry had said nothing about his status after Fudge had admitted that 'Lord Thingy' had come back.
This reminded him to telephone Hermione again. Aunt Petunia was in the back garden gossiping with one of the neighbours and, thankfully, Uncle Vernon was off with a client from South America. He had boasted about the possibility for a contract for drills at dinner the previous night.
He used the telephone in the kitchen to ring Hermione. After the initial greetings, he told her, "Hermione, I've decided to assume my Wizengamot seat on my birthday. Regardless of whether or not I can get the Black seat, could you come with me? I'll invite Ron as well. I'd like to see him before the summer's over, because I've decided to do some special training Dumbledore offered."
"I can meet you… where? The Leaky Cauldron?"
"I'm going directly to the Ministry, so no. I'm hoping Dumbledore and Fawkes can get me there straightaway."
"Oh my! I didn't know phoenixes could transport people instantly like that. I'm sorry I won't get to see much of you this summer; I also wish you didn't have to do all that extra training, Harry."
"I don't have a choice, Hermione. Death Eaters aren't stupid. Even though we fought them well, it was a losing battle. We didn't know enough, and we weren't coordinated enough. We'd have been overpowered sooner or later, except Dumbledore showed up."
Harry heard a sigh over the receiver. "Well, at the very least I insist you show me everything you've learned, as we'll need it next year! Can you find out if Ron and I can get some extra training too?"
"I'll look into it, Hermione. I've got to go now, though. I'll let you know once I find out when we're supposed to go to the Wizengamot."
They said their goodbyes and Harry rang off, just as the knock on the door alerted him to Tonks's presence. Harry grinned at the thought of getting a crash course in some Auror-level spellwork.
He wasn't disappointed, although it was a strenuous affair trying to keep his bedroom from getting trashed to pieces as he and Tonks danced around the room, duelling with hexes and jinxes just strong enough to leave small marks in the paint. Luckily, Tonks and Harry were both good at repair charms, and had silenced the room so nobody would hear their crashing and banging about.
Afterwards, Tonks agreed to accompany him on a run around the neighbourhood to condition his legs.
It had been an enjoyable afternoon indeed. Harry rounded it out with a quick letter to Ron, spelled so only Ron could open it. It simply said that he wanted to meet with Ron and Hermione before he got a chance to go the Burrow, and mentioned Sirius's will.
Harry decided to save the announcement about the Wizengamot for later, since the letter to Madam Bones had been risky enough. He doubted most Death Eaters knew what a telephone was and reckoned the wards on Privet Drive were strong enough to keep out nosy eavesdroppers (unless a Death Eater had an eye like Mad-Eye), but even so, Harry was wary of Ron's tendency to react without thinking if provoked. Uncomfortably, Harry realised he was acting a bit like Dumbledore had been doing – withholding information, allegedly for "his own good".
He decided to resolve his guilt by making a mental note to ask Hermione if there was a way to encapsulate thoughts in a thing like the Fidelius Charm so that only a Secret Keeper could choose to expose them.
/\/\/\
The next day, Dumbledore's missive arrived on the messenger parchment.
Dear Harry,
The will of Sirius Black has been located. It was updated some time before he died, and held at Gringotts until his conviction could be reversed, which I have accomplished at a minimum quorate session of the Wizengamot.
In sum, the manhunt for Sirius Black has been ended, outstanding charges against him regarding escaping from Azkaban have been dismissed, restitution has been granted along with the cancellation of his sentence in Azkaban, and the Order of Merlin granted to Peter Pettigrew has been voided. You are already aware of some of this, as I recall.
You should also know that the Decree for Justifiable Confiscation may apply to certain artefacts in Headquarters, but as the Ministry cannot effect entry, I do not believe this will pose a problem.
The will reading was requested by Sirius to occur at Gringotts rather than through the Ministry. This, in point of fact, is legal upon payment of the appropriate fees and charges levied by Gringotts, a lawyer drafting the will, and the Ministry.
Yours,
Albus Dumbledore.
Harry stared at the letter, and quietly consoled himself by realising that it was finally true that Sirius had been cleared of the crimes he was thought to have committed. Without much enthusiasm, Harry decided to write to Dumbledore and work out the timing of events. He cleared the messenger parchment, and began.
Headmaster?
Ah, Harry. I was fortunate enough to be at my desk when you wrote and signalled. What can I do for you?
When can we get the will read?
We can schedule it at your convenience. Fawkes has just informed me that he would be happy to transport you if you wish.
Thank you very much. Could I ask Fawkes to bring me to the will reading before the Wizengamot proceedings, at about ten in the morning? I'm not sure how long a will-reading takes.
That should be more than enough time, my boy. Fawkes has been informed, and has enthusiastically warbled in reply. I confess to being a bit perplexed at his connection to you, as all literature regarding phoenixes has indicated they tend to bond with one human primarily. But that is all to the good. I shall see you – and if I should forget before then, happy birthday.
Thanks, Headmaster. I'll see you then. Oh, and so far, no visions. Occlumency seems to be working.
I can accompany you at the will-reading if you wish. I am also glad that you are spared those visions from Voldemort. Would you like your friends to accompany you as well? Miss Granger is, no doubt, conversant with Muggle transport to the Leaky Cauldron, and Mr Weasley can easily floo to Diagon Alley.
Yes. I'll let them both know about the will-reading.
If you like, I can send them both letters via Order guards to save you the trouble. Gringotts are the nominal executors of the will, but I met little resistance in taking on the task of notifying beneficiaries, as it saves them assigning a goblin to the task, and dealing with the rudeness that all too often characterizes Human-Goblin relations.
That would be great. I'd like it if Remus Lupin were there in any case, as he's to become my magical guardian.
Yes, I shall ensure Remus will be available as well. I did not wish to do this so soon, but I am afraid I must end this conversation as Professor Snape has just signalled his return to Hogwarts. Feel free to send a message any time, however.
Of course, Headmaster, I'll see you on the thirty-first.
Harry massaged his hand after that, realising he could have activated the Dictating Quill instead of just scribbling away like mad on the parchment.
/\/\/\
Amusingly, Cornelius Fudge tried to curry more favour with Harry by sending a document on what appeared to be very expensive parchment:
22 July 1996
The Ministry of Magic hereby waives the Decree for Justifiable Confiscation for the will of Sirius Black, registered with us via Gringotts Bank. Therefore, the usual thirty-one day holding period will not apply to any artefacts transferred to beneficiaries in that specific will.
(Signed) Cornelius Fudge
Minister for Magic
A handwritten post-script on a separate page read briefly, "Dear Mr Potter, I trust that this will aid in expediting more cordial relations between yourself and the Ministry."
God, what an incredible suck-up, groused Harry.
Dumbledore had written not long after, confirming the date and time Harry would go to Gringotts. Now he just had to keep up his usual routine of conditioning and self-education in battle spellwork, and wait for the inevitable day.
/\/\/\
Meanwhile, Cornelius Fudge was meeting with Decimus Greengrass, and hoped that the man would be the entering wedge to gain the support of about fourteen members of the Wizengamot. If there was to be an election of a new Minister for Magic, all he needed was just enough votes to edge out the next candidate, and he suspected that Arthur Weasley and Amos Diggory, at the least, would run. Amelia Bones was a possibility as well, so if the vote split unequally (say, with a few creatively planted abstentions), he would remain in office. And if five candidates ran, fourteen votes would ensure that the rest did not split out properly.
The urbane man opposite him wore a tasteful chocolate-brown robe, had immaculate hair, well-manicured fingernails and in every other way radiated the kind of poshness that Fudge had come to expect from purebloods. A traitorous voice in the back of his head told him that even with the pinstriped suit and robe he was wearing that day, Decimus still managed to out-dress him in terms of how well the outfit wore.
Fudge began by saying, "Welcome to my office. Let me just activate the privacy wards, here."
A few incantations later, they began.
Decimus added, "Cornelius, let's be frank. You're a political liability, and while my tenure on the Wizengamot is unaffected by whether you go or stay, being associated with you these days would not be very helpful for my business contacts."
Heatedly, Fudge retorted, "Well, I'm sure you're well aware that I have considerable discretion over the disbursement of funds from the Ministry. I'm sure you wouldn't mind a little support for your business. Perhaps some friends of yours on the Wizengamot wouldn't mind it either, would they?"
Greengrass seemed to ponder that, and replied, "Well, I could possibly see my way to assisting you in this matter. I'm sure that as a show of good faith the Ministry wouldn't mind awarding contracts for procurement of… say, several bundles of fwooper feathers and the like."
"Fine. Now can I count on your support when it comes time for the next election? You and I both know I probably won't survive the vote of no confidence, but all it takes for me to run to get back my old office is a nomination from one of the members of the Wizengamot if I'm not on it. Rather handy loophole, that."
"Done. Just make good on the contracts."
The two men warily shook hands, and Cornelius Fudge tried to decide how to hide a good chunk of the Ministry budget disappearing into the hands of individuals who didn't actually need the money. Calling it bribery was just so uncouth…
He preferred to think of it as a strategic manoeuvre.
Author Notes:
Thanks go to Keir for the beta work. I particularly want to acknowledge her efforts on this chapter amid a busy schedule of her own.