A Knut to Start the Revolution
Chapter 13
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.
Draco Malfoy stared at the goblin in disbelief as he and his mother stood just inside the entry doors to Gringotts.
"Goblin, I am here for the reading of a will, you simpering little—"
His mother, Narcissa, broke in sharply. "Draco! Behave yourself this instant!"
The Aurors and goblins had had the temerity to delay their entrance after the Malfoys had stated they were present for a will reading. The blonde witch had received a Gringotts owl regarding a will in which she and her son were the beneficiaries, and she knew it could only be one thing: Sirius Black was dead.
Unfortunately for her, though, her offspring's attitude problem ensured that any hope of getting in to the will-reading on time was blasted all to pieces.
The goblin guard was saying, "Mister Malfoy, we must use a Probity Probe to ensure that you are not about to steal any of the assets of Gringotts. You will accompany us to a room for searching. Mrs Malfoy, a moment, please."
The Aurors, who held their own Probity Probes, snickered in amusement. Narcissa thought one of them might have been the same one who was part of a contingent who barged into Malfoy Manor to search for illegal artefacts after Lucius had been arrested.
Draco put his foot in it when he said, "Probity Probe? I think not. I am a Malfoy and I hardly deserve such treatment from you."
Whether on purpose or by accident, another goblin, wheeling a cart of rubies past Draco, bumped into him and caused the young aristocrat to go sprawling on the floor. At that point, the goblin guards grabbed him by the shoulders, and dragged him into the Probity Room.
Narcissa groaned internally and counted to fifty in her head as she realised her son had managed to completely muck things up for them. Her Probity Probe scan was fairly quick and nonintrusive, and the goblin gruffly pointed her over to the doorway to await her son.
Inside the room, Draco Malfoy had been stripped of all his clothing and hit with the goblin equivalent of a Petrificus Totalus. The goblin guard holding the Probity Probe waved it menacingly at Draco, who had the good sense to keep from losing control over his bladder. The Probe bleeped and blared as it passed over his left arm, and the goblin smirked as only a goblin could when the glamour covering his Dark Mark was revealed. As to where else the Probity Probe went, the blond was seen walking a bit oddly when he stepped out of the room, and he woodenly refused to look anywhere near the guard goblin.
Narcissa berated her son in hissing whispers as the goblin in charge of will readings took them to an empty room. "Draco! You have no manners and no civility! Behave yourself or I shall send you home at once! You are not of age and I am still your mother. Is that clear?"
He was suitably demeaned, as he bowed his head and muttered, "Yes, mother."
The two walked into the room, and the goblin said, "First, for your tardiness in attending the will reading, we must levy a fee of a hundred Galleons."
Grudgingly, Narcissa slapped down her Gringotts key, upon which the goblin picked it up and pressed it onto a piece of parchment, onto which lines and words began forming. He scratched away on it in Gobbledygook and then created a duplicate, translated into English; it was a receipt for the transfer of a hundred Galleons for a will reading.
The whole exercise rapidly proved to be quite pointless, as the will, which the goblin read in a bored monotone, gave everything away to the Muggle-lovers and Mudblood and left a solitary Galleon and a rude remark for Draco, and the shock of being disowned from the Black family for Narcissa.
After Apparating back to Wiltshire with his mother, Draco Malfoy could only fume in impotent rage as he went to his bedroom and began casting curses and hexes at his pillows.
How dare Black, that convict, give everything to his nemesis, Harry Potter, and nothing but a snarky comment and the insult of a Galleon for him? The goblin had even had the audacity to present a Galleon coin!
Narcissa, on her way to the Wizengamot proceedings, suddenly remembered the odd colour of red that had flowed over her as she waited for the goblins to finish with Draco's Probity inspection. She realised then that the glow had been the signal that she had been disowned as a Black. If only she had been focussed on that instead of fuming over how her son's tendency to needlessly antagonise anyone around him had ruined her plans for worming her way back into the Black fortune by pretending to be conciliatory with Harry Potter.
She marvelled that Severus had put up with Draco for as long as he had. She was far from stupid; she knew the man was a half-blood, and had grown up in a poor Muggle section of Britain prior to being taken in by the Princes. He never openly showed his resentment over the way Lucius had casually flaunted his wealth, but then her husband had had a modicum of common sense. Draco was simply far too arrogant, brash and spiteful, and didn't hesitate to throw the Malfoy name around as though it entitled him to everything. She wondered if Severus had ever, in private, wondered why he had to deal with the boy.
Unfortunately, she knew she would probably have to go to the man and beg of him to protect Draco. The boy had some reason to be unbearably arrogant; he actually believed he was favoured by the Dark Lord because he had been given a mission:
Kill Albus Dumbledore.
/\/\/\
Severus Snape was, indeed, fuming over Draco Malfoy.
He also fumed over Wormtail's unwanted attachment to his immediate presence thanks to the Dark Lord's insistence that Wormtail needed a place to live. Obviously, the real reason was that the Dark Lord didn't trust Severus, but wasn't going to say so out loud lest his spy be driven into Dumbledore's camp. The rat could blasted well go live in some nook in his Animagus form instead of wasting his time, his food and his living space at his residence.
Severus decided to brew in the basement, if only to take his mind off that idiot Wormtail and his constant nosing about as though there were something to be had by spying on books. And speaking of books, if that annoying little rat so much as touched one…
Severus wrenched his thoughts back to Draco. The little bastard never seemed to fail at doing exactly the wrong thing. In first year, did he make friends with Potter the way Lucius wanted? No. Never mind that Severus had his own issues with Potter – the Malfoy patriarch had political ambitions for the family name, ambitions that did not include antagonising the Boy-Who-Lived, and his son had managed to blast them all to smithereens with just a few sentences and a horrendous attitude problem.
In second year, did he keep his mouth shut and quit antagonising the Muggleborns? No. He threw around "Mudblood" like some people spent Knuts. Yes, that would endear him to half the student population… the half-brained ones, that was to say!
In third year, he had failed to find a way to keep Draco from losing Slytherin fifty House points thanks to that completely imbecilic stunt – pretending to be a Dementor, indeed. That boy had never known the true horrors a Dementor could call forth, or he never would have done something so absurdly thoughtless.
Fourth year; oh yes, what a marvel. The boy couldn't even keep his mouth shut on the Hogwarts Express and had promptly cemented himself firmly on the "to watch" list of any intelligent person at Hogwarts after he had openly mocked Cedric Diggory to Harry Potter. Say what one would about Potter, but mocking a Hufflepuff who had never done Slytherin wrong was simply beyond the pale.
And fifth year – oh, Merlin's balls. That vain strutting peacock of a boy had been so puffed up over being on Umbridge's goon squad. Severus had been around long enough to know when people were being manipulated for someone else's agenda, and he could spot it as clear as the water in the lake at Hogwarts that Umbridge fully intended to manipulate the Slytherins by taking advantage of House rivalries. In doing so, she had probably done irreparable damage to House unity, and made it impossible for Severus to attempt any subtle manoeuvrings of Slytherins towards the Light. And now that Umbridge had been discredited and Dumbledore was firmly back in power, along with the Daily Prophet showering praise upon the "Chosen One", Severus knew there was no way to shield Draco from the consequences. Gryffindor would come for their pound of flesh after the way the Inquisitorial Squad had rampaged freely throughout the school, and the cycle would start again.
And on top of it all, he, the Potions master, had to watch as the blond threw around the Malfoy wealth and the Malfoy name in other peoples' faces. One of his definitely less-brilliant moves was to regularly insult Ron Weasley. Draco went out of his way to insult the lack of wealth Weasley's family had, and it stung. The worst of it, for Severus, was that he could sympathise. He knew how it felt when you came from a clapped-out townhouse in some run-down industrial district and the boy next to you had never slept on anything less refined than silk bedsheets. But all his quiet admonishments to Draco had fallen on deaf ears.
Not that he would ever tell anyone, mind. If he had to describe what traits he despised, for Weasley it was his constant habit of being excessively Gryffindorishly foolish in speaking before engaging his brain. For Draco, it was his insistent habit of being a blockhead when it came to the application of Slytherin intelligence. And for Potter… well, looking like James would do it enough, although if he were forced to be truly honest with himself, Lily Evans looked at him with those eyes.
In some ways, the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry with its perpetual cycles of attack-parry-defend-and-revenge went back, Severus had to admit, to the 1970s when the Marauders and Lucius's Slytherins, of which he was a peripheral part, relentlessly went after each other their entire time at Hogwarts. The problem was, there was no way to break that cycle, although there was a bit of an interregnum in the late 1980s when some of the lesser Death Eaters who had been dumped into Azkaban died from ill health and the cumulative effects of the Dementors, which meant Severus was not quite as beholden to pretend he actually liked dealing with the bratty spawn of those miserable cowards who thought getting a mark on their left arms was the greatest thing since Merlin.
He occasionally – very occasionally, to be sure – regretted showing such bias and partisanship towards Slytherins. In doing so, he had made it almost impossible for him to do what he so much desired to do, which was take Draco over his knee and give the idiot boy a good thrashing. That so, he took out his anger on the rest of Hogwarts, risking the possibility that Albus would come crashing down on him if ever he went too far.
And now that bitch Lestrange was making noises, whispering in the Dark Lord's ear about how she was the most loyal, the most faithful… after all, had she not thrown everything over to be a full-time Death Eater while that sourpuss Snape was sitting pretty at Hogwarts?
The only thing worse than that would be if Narcissa came begging him to do something for Draco. The boy had, he could only assume, been a complete loss as to his brain cell capacity, since he had shown up at an initiation ceremony just a few days ago, promptly gotten himself marked, and given a secret mission. What it was, Severus could not determine, but it couldn't be anything good. Luckily, Bellatrix hadn't been at that ceremony and didn't know what Draco's mission was, either.
Maybe if he could convince Albus to be a bit harsher and to quit being such a perpetual optimist, the Headmaster could knock some sense into Draco and make him realise he was playing in the big leagues with a woeful lack of common sense.
In that, he unfortunately seemed to resemble the Brat-Who-Lived.
/\/\/\
Harry Potter looked around Courtroom Ten in bitter memory. The chair which had threatened to confine him, the high bench around which the fifty members sat, and the flickering torches all made him fidget uncomfortably. Remus seemed to notice this, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
Amelia Bones was sitting to the right of Cornelius Fudge, whilst, thankfully, the toad Umbridge was absent. The rest of the Wizengamot members were seating themselves at the various maroon chairs, and the bespectacled teen could see that the seat the old bat had occupied was instead being occupied by a man who looked like an old lion. He exuded an air of confidence and strength, very much unlike that stupid clot of a Minister.
It was only when all but the Chief Warlock were seated that Harry noticed that two chairs, side by side next to Griselda Marchbanks, were vacant; Dumbledore whispered, "Harry, I will have to formally challenge the presence of your friends. Do not be alarmed; it is just a formality."
The latter nodded, a bit nervously, and tried patting down his hair again as the very old wizard serenely ascended to his seat just to the left of Amelia Bones.
"As Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot," he said, "I hereby open our session as of"—here, he examined his watch—"one-oh-three in the afternoon exactly. The first order of business, I see from the schedule, is the reinstatement of the Potter and Black seats to full status."
Augusta Longbottom, who was Neville's grandmother, replied, "I concur. So moved."
The Headmaster answered, "Very well. Harry James Potter, please step forward."
Harry did so, standing near the chair that had once imprisoned him.
"Harry, I wish you to account for why the people behind you, who are not present for Wizengamot business, should remain in these chambers for closed session."
"Headmaster Dumbledore, I come accompanied by my closest friends. I have known Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger since my first year at Hogwarts. Remus Lupin is the last remaining connection I have to my father and mother, and is now my official wizarding guardian."
Dumbledore nodded in approval and said, "Mr Potter has established, to my satisfaction, that the people with him should remain present for the remainder of these proceedings. Are there any objections?"
The room was silent.
Madam Bones began.
"As the Chief Warlock has stated, our first business is you, Mr Potter. Do you have your family ring?"
Harry thought, Oh no! I forgot to get it at Gringotts!
He tremulously said, "…no. But—"
Dumbledore smoothly interposed, saying, "It is not a requirement that the known heir of a Family on the Wizengamot present a ring if that heir is in the direct line. Am I correct?"
The witch with the monocle agreed. "Indeed. It was a formality, as you well know. Mr Potter, do you swear on your magic that your true father and mother are James Potter and Lily Potter, respectively?"
"Yes."
Augusta said, "I move that we recognise the Potter claim."
Bones said, "I concur. So moved."
Dumbledore said, "All those in favour of recognising Mr Potter's claim to his family seat?"
A multitude of hands rose.
"Any opposed?"
Only two hands went up, and Harry realised with surprise that one of them was Narcissa Malfoy.
Bones said, "By the authority invested in me as the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I hereby certify that Mr Potter, of sound mind and body, is capable of ascending to his seat."
Fudge added his own assent, slightly reluctantly. "By the authority invested in me as the Minister for Magic, I hereby certify that Mr Potter, of sound mind and body, is capable of ascending to his seat."
Dumbledore finished with, "As Chief Warlock, I announce that on this day the thirty-first of July, nineteen ninety-six, the vacant seat of Potter is finally filled."
With that, the old teacher began a steady applause, eyes twinkling in merriment as the rest of the Wizengamot solemnly embraced Harry's right to partake in their decisions. The Boy Who Lived turned, looked at his friends, and noticed that Hermione's eyes were glistening while Ron was grinning lopsidedly. Remus was clapping softly along with the rest, and then made small shooing motions as he grinned.
It would not be lying to say that Harry felt a bit emotionally overwhelmed as he hesitantly stepped towards the seat closest to Griselda Marchbanks. He slowly sat down, and surveyed the courtroom from his new vantage point.
The old woman said in an undertone, "Glad to have you here, Mr Potter. Your OWL results should get to you soon. I daresay you did rather well!"
He smiled a bit uncertainly, and then faced the rest again, as Dumbledore spoke up once more.
"Before we continue – Mr Potter, is there any other business you wish to transact before the Wizengamot at this time?"
Harry took a deep breath, and began. "Yes, Headma…er, Chief Warlock. As I have come into my inheritance from Sirius Black—"
A murmur went around the courtroom. Not all the members had been part of the quorum that had dismissed the charges and voided the sentence, but enough were there to know the truth.
"As I said, I have inherited from Sirius Black. I am here to petition to ascend to the Black seat as well."
The murmurs arose again, louder this time.
A swarthy, black-haired man, who had voted against him along with Narcissa, was seated at the far end opposite Harry. He said, "By what right, Mr Potter, do you make this claim?"
Harry firmly replied, "I am in possession of the Black family ring and have been invested with the authority of Black Family Head."
Narcissa spoke up. "As proxy for the House of Malfoy, whose son is in the direct line from myself née Black, I must question this claim. By what right do you have the ring, and not Draco Malfoy?"
Harry spoke sharply and ringingly. "By the will of Sirius Black, the Malfoys have been deprived of any right to claim against the Black family. You are no longer a Black."
To Harry's surprise, the woman took it between the eyes and stayed quiet. He wondered if anyone else would open their gob, but Dumbledore spoke up before anyone else could. "This is another formality, Harry – I must certify that the ring on your finger is a true Family ring."
The old man waved his wand in a complex fashion that seemed to resemble a Japanese letter Harry had seen when Dudley was watching that old movie, Karate Kid. Harry was startled when his ring momentarily glowed white, but relaxed as nothing happened.
"As Chief Warlock, I certify that the ring on Mr Potter's hand is a true ring and entitles him to assume the seat of the House of Black. The way is clear to allow his appointment."
Augusta Longbottom again spoke up. "I concur. So moved."
"All in favour?"
Less hands rose up than before, but still a majority.
"Opposed?"
Some hands rose, but the vote was clear.
Bones said, "By the authority invested in me as the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I hereby certify that Mr Potter, of sound mind and body, is capable of ascending to the seat of the House of Black."
Fudge nervously said, "By the authority invested in me as the Minister for Magic, I hereby certify that Mr Potter, of sound mind and body, is capable of ascending to the seat of the House of Black."
Dumbledore finished with, "As Chief Warlock, I announce that on this day the thirty-first of July, nineteen ninety-six, the vacant seat of Black is finally filled."
The man who looked like an old lion spoke up for the first time. "In case you do not know who I am, Mr Potter, I am Rufus Scrimgeour, Head Auror. I wish to ask how you plan to attend Wizengamot sessions when you will be at Hogwarts for the next year."
"A fair question, Head Auror. If Wizengamot sessions occur on weekends I will ask permission from the Headmaster to attend these proceedings. Additionally, I will nominate proxies who can attend for one or both seats, as I direct."
Dumbledore said, "Is there anyone who objects to the matter of proxy voters? No? Good. Please begin, Harry."
There was not as much surprise as would have been expected when Harry said, "For the seat of the House of Potter, I nominate my proxy voter, Remus John Lupin."
Marchbanks, in a quiet aside to Harry, said, "He may be a werewolf, but everybody knows he was your father's friend. Opposing him would just be useless – but watch for them to try scheduling sessions on full moon days."
Even so, the look of distaste in Narcissa's mouth was clearly evident, and Cornelius Fudge looked oddly like he wanted to rush to the loo.
Harry Potter took another deep breath and spoke the words which would cause uproar over the next few weeks:
"For the seat of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, I nominate my proxy voter, Hermione Jean Granger!"
Author Notes: ^_^ Fun times will ensue, yes? :P