Chapter 9 – Fallout
John Dawlish rapped sharply on the door of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Bones and received a curt "Enter". He strode into the office and stood in front of her desk, waiting for her acknowledgement.
The square-jawed witch had an open folder on her desk and looked at each paper, before turning it over and reviewing the next. Dawlish forced himself not to twitch with impatience at being ignored, but kept his back straight and his eyes just over the woman's shoulder.
After looking at every paper in the file, Amelia Bones closed the folder and leaned back in her chair. She examined Dawlish through her monocle as if she had never seen him before.
"I've looked at every paper in your file Dawlish, and I can't find it," she finally said grimly.
Dawlish met her eyes. "Ma'am?"
"Whose responsibility is it to speak with the press, Auror Dawlish?"
The blond swallowed but said impassively, "Yours ma'am".
"Quite right; the Head of the DMLE or my designated representative. I don't see any promotion notices in your file, Dawlish and I'm quite certain that I did not request you to speak to the press for me." She picked up a dagger from her desk and began idly flipping it from hand to hand.
Dawlish's eyes unconsciously followed the movement of the dagger. The older aurors liked to regale the younger members of how the dagger was a souvenir she acquired after a dark wizard sent it at her with a spell. The story was that she caught it mid-air and then proceeded to disembowel the wizard with it. "No ma'am" he remembered to say. Was she eyeing his groin while flipping that dagger? He forced himself not to cover his bits.
"Then perhaps you will explain to me why one of my aurors violated protocol, disclosed the location of a sought after celebrity and referred to an innocent man as a former convict."
He was quite certain the dagger was now targeting his groin and struggled to maintain a steady voice. "The Minister of Magic strongly suggested I speak with Ms. Skeeter…." At her icy glare, he ended the statement with "…I have no excuse ma'am."
"No, I didn't think so. Auror Dawlish, please pack up your desk and hand your current assignments to Auror Shacklebolt. You are hereby reassigned to the Auror Academy as the assistant to Alastor Gumboil."
Dawlish tried not to sway at the news. The former hit wizard? His assistants were the targets of his demonstrations and tended to have long hospital visits. The dagger was now pointing at him and he swallowed hard. "Yes ma'am. Thank you, ma'am" and made his escape.
Neville Longbottom looked up as the normal mail delivery seemed to have hundreds of extra owls flooding the Great Hall at Hogwarts. The young teen noticed that every student and teacher received a feathered delivery even as he untied a newspaper from the first bird in front of him. Another owl waited patiently for its letter to be retrieved. He unfolded the newspaper to discover it was a copy of the New York Daily Herald out of the United States. The front page headline was brutally eye-stopping.
British Ministry of Magic Attempts to Enslave 14-Year Old Boy
A shocking story of political intrigue, callousness, and abuse came to light this week when 14-year old Harry Potter, the only known survivor of the Avada Kedavra (Killing) Curse spoke out about his life.
Within hours of the deaths of his parents, James and Lily Potter in 1981, fifteen month old Harry was left on his non-magical relative's doorstep without going through standard magical or non-magical Children's Services. That meant no one supervised the boy's home life for the next decade; a decade he spent living in a closet under the stairs when not acting as the cook and housekeeper. The boy was malnourished and small for his size, dressed only in the many times too-large cast-offs from his cousin.
"I was told that my parents were worthless drunks who died in a car accident," he said dispassionately, "and that it would have been better if I had died with them. I began cooking when I was four or five," he recalled. "They put a chair in front of the stove and I cooked standing on the chair. I had a list of chores every day and if they weren't done on time or to my relative's satisfaction, then I didn't earn my meal for the day."
"I knew nothing of the magical world, the customs, traditions or any part of my heritage because my relatives loathed everything to do with magic. All I knew was not to ask questions, to stay invisible, and to take care of myself. When I received my Hogwarts letter, I had no idea what I was in for. It was a shock to discover that I was some type of celebrity. It amazed me that people saw me as someone special when it was obviously something that my parents did that vanquished Voldemort (the dark wizard who had been terrorizing the British community) and saved me."
"During my first year at Hogwarts, I was truly amazed. The school is in a thousand-year old castle, complete with ghosts, moving staircases and portraits. Unfortunately, our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was possessed by the spirit of Voldemort. The man actually had Voldemort's face sticking out of the back of his head, hidden beneath a turban. He let a fully grown mountain troll in the school that nearly killed one of my friends. He also tried to kill me multiple times during the school year, but we couldn't prove who it was until he finally cast the Killing Curse at me near the end of the year. Fortunately, my parent's protection held and he was defeated again."
Such a traumatic year would cripple most eleven year olds or at least require extensive counseling, but Mr. Potter was returned to his non-magical relatives where he was locked into a room with bars on the windows. "My best friend and his brothers broke me out," the boy said with a warm smile, "and I spent the rest of the summer with their family. It was really great."
In his second year, the now twelve year old was discovered to be a Parselmouth. "I have no idea why being able to speak to reptiles is considered evil," he said with some confusion. "To me it sounds just like English. I don't mind being judged on my actions, but just because I can understand another language? I was pretty much shunned by the majority of the school when it became known."
If the school hadn't judged his abilities so rashly, the sixty-foot basilisk loose in the school that year might have been found earlier. Although the boy didn't know what kind of reptile he occasionally heard speaking as it moved in the pipes, he had learned by then not to mention anything about hearing snakes. Fortunately, none of the school children saw the basilisk's eyes straight on; they saw reflections in water or mirrors or through camera lenses. Students were petrified rather than killed, but surprisingly the school was left open for weeks after the first attacks occurred. Ultimately, a mandrake potion was made that restored the children.
Eventually, Mr. Potter discovered that the basilisk was being controlled by yet another incarnation of Voldemort. "This time, it was a memory of himself that he left inside of a book," said the teen. "It possessed the little sister of my friend and was draining her life. I was able to find her location and killed the basilisk by sticking a sword through its mouth."
What he didn't reveal until questioned was that he was bitten in the attempt and would have died had it not been for the tears of the Headmaster's phoenix. Mr. Potter took the fang that broke off in his arm and stabbed the book, destroying the memory Voldemort and saving his friend's sister.
After being returned yet again to his relatives, the not yet 13-year old boy decided it was time he looked out for his own safety and well-being. His relatives approved his transfer to another school with the understanding that he never return to them. By mid-summer of last year, he was ensconced at St. Croix Academy in the United States.
Unfortunately, the child was not yet secure. The followers of Voldemort used a dark ritual to bring him back from a disembodied spirit to corporeal form ready to once again terrorize the British population. Imagine Mr. Potter's surprise when he received a visit from the British Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, accompanied by Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot Albus Dumbledore and two aurors. They revealed that in a special session of the Wizengamot, the responsible adults of the ruling body voted to bind the now 14-year old boy under an obscure 300-year old prophecy law. The men demanded that this child be surrendered to save them, rather than relying on the aurors, Ministry and trained adults who are tasked with protecting the public.
In a surprise move, Mr. Potter's attorney, Ms. Anarosa Diaz revealed that the teen had sought and received political asylum from the United States government the previous year. He subsequently renounced his British citizenship and in special proceedings was awarded U.S. citizenship this year, making any Wizengamot votes irrelevant.
"I would have been happy to remain a citizen of the United Kingdom," said the grim teen, "if they would only have let me grow up. But I was abandoned, abused, and barely survived repeated murder attempts. Then they wanted to enslave me to a prophecy; a prophecy that my advisors contend was fulfilled when Voldemort was defeated back in 1981."
"I can only say how grateful I am to my attorney, my teachers, my godfather and the U.S. government for their unwavering support. To understand the mindset that we were battling, consider that my godfather was unjustly imprisoned without a trial for over a decade and publicly exonerated but was described as 'a former convict' in the British publication, The Daily Prophet. In response to their other comments, I will state as clearly as I know how that I do not support Voldemort in any manner or form, in thought or word, by magic or non-magical deed. Furthermore, I trust the trained professionals in the Aurors and the Ministry to handle the current situation in Britain."
The British Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Albus Dumbledore were unavailable for comments.
Neville's round face became downright malicious when he smirked, Ron thought. "What's up, mate?" the redhead asked.
"I thought Harry's interview was well-done," Neville replied as he opened a letter from his overseas friend. He scanned the letter and then added "Apparently it was his Godfather who decided to send us all a copy of the article; something about a prank on the Headmaster." The nearby Gryffindors looked up at the head table and noticed all of the teachers were reading the overseas paper with evident interest, even the Potions Master although his face was twisted in a sneer.
"What else does he say," asked Seamus.
"Hmm, Sirius also sent a copy to everyone in the Ministry and forwarded dozens to pubs and restaurants." He continued scanning the letter. "Unfortunately, the slander and libel laws require that the reporter deliberately and with malice of forethought attempt to publicly defame the subject and Black's attorney isn't certain they can prove that. However Harry says that his godfather 'recently discovered an interest in investing in various publications and is seeking controlling interest in several publishing houses, magazines and newspapers'. Heh, that should be effective."
"I can't believe they published his location when You-Know-Who has him targeted" hissed an outraged Ginny Weasley from a few seats down.
"Yes," Neville agreed as he read the end of the letter, "it seems that because of that he's been receiving thirty or more letters a day from strangers who have alternated between insulting his character, his morals, his courage, his loyalty and his obligations and those who demand or plead with him to return to Britain to stand between them and Voldemort." The Gryffindor rolled his eyes as some students gasped at his saying the name.
Seamus grinned, "Well, I think he was brilliant when he said 'I trust the trained professionals in the Aurors and the Ministry to handle the current situation in Britain'. Who can argue with that attitude?"
Ron frowned at his copy of the newspaper and then looked at his dorm mate. "Neville, do me a favor and warn Harry to be careful accepting food or drink from others in the next few weeks, OK?"
"Why don't you write him yourself," asked the surprised teen.
Ron's face reddened, highlighting his freckles. "I wasn't a very good friend last year, was I? But you've been constant, haven't you? I think it would be better from you. Just warn him, all right mate?"
The students continued the discussion and the Great Hall echoed with the many conversations. Dumbledore's eyes were not twinkling with their usual good humour when he completed the article, but he simply closed the paper and sipped his tea again, doing his best to ignore the heated glare from his Deputy Headmistress. He wondered how long he was going to avoid being hexed by the irate Scotswoman.
The Headmaster was surprised to hear the Potions Master mutter "Who would have believed that a Gryffindor much less a Potter could be so entertaining or so delightfully devious?"
Harry glanced over his shoulder as he felt Elias pass through the wards on their room and gave his roommate a brief smile. After a 12th grade student had cast a Reducto at him several days ago, Ms. Sadler had insisted on a few extra protections on his room. It turned out the older student was a cousin of former followers of Voldemort, and he had received an order from his family patriarch to "take out" the younger teen. Harry escaped with only a scrape thanks to the dragon hide armor he wore under his clothes, but it had shaken him for several days.
"Xolotl has been waiting for you," he said to his roommate with an indulgent smile towards the reptile. "Something about wanting bananas, a warm bath and a belly rub in that order."
The fire lizard grumbled from his cage, "My Boy isss getting lax; he ssshould have been here earlier to give me a massssage and fresssh bananass. You tell him that he isss getting negligent and ssshould be grateful for my leniencccy, sspeaker!"
Harry turned in his chair to grin at Elias, but his grin dropped when he saw the wand in his friend's hand pointed at his head and the emptiness in his brown eyes. "Elias? What are you doing?"
With a loud screech and a tangle of wings, claws and feathers, Hedwig attacked the hand holding the wand. Harry's wand was in his hand immediately. "Incarcerous!" the teen shouted and ropes wrapped themselves around his roommate.
He opened the door to the hall and yelled "Someone get Ms. Sadler up here, now!" He kicked Elias' wand away and stroked a trembling Hedwig. "Thank you, girl. You're such a brave heroine, aren't you?" He continued caressing the white feathers for both of their comfort.
Christina Sadler came into the room at a run and the other students on the floor crowded around the room peering in. "Harry, what happened?"
"It's Elias, I think he's under a spell. He turned his wand on me and his eyes were just…blank and vacant looking." He looked up at the older woman. "I have no idea what he was going to do, but Hedwig attacked him and I was able to tie him up."
"All right, the show is over. The rest of you return to what you were doing." She closed the door behind her to the dismay of the students trying to get a glimpse into the room. She ran a set of diagnostic spells over the bound child and shook her head in dismay. "Harry, I'm going to use a medical port key to bring Elias directly to the Clinic. Why don't you contact your godfather? I'm sure you could use his support right now."
Two hours later, Harry sat in an office with Sirius, Principal Graham, Vice Principal Talbot, Ms. Sadler and Healer Masuto while Elias was in the Infirmary being comforted by his parents. "It was the Imperius curse," confirmed Mrs. Graham. "Elias doesn't remember anything about who cast it; it was likely cast from behind while he was outside of the school wards. He only remembers the floating sensation with a general euphoria. We believe his orders were to cast the Imperius on you, Harry, to cause you to leave the school wards. Obviously whoever set the compulsion didn't know our wards wouldn't permit the spell to be cast on the campus grounds."
Harry looked down at his hands and gripped them tightly to keep them from trembling. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Graham. I never wanted any other student hurt. Should I leave the Academy?" He felt Sirius' arm settle around his shoulders and allowed himself to lean into the comforting warmth of his godfather.
"I don't believe we need to take that drastic of a step yet, Harry," the Principal stated quietly. "While we have found a few less than savory reporters and a small number of other strangers nosing around the school grounds, it only led us to strengthen and reinforce all of the wards. The so-called Unforgiveables as well as all known compulsion curses have been disabled and will result in the caster being incapacitated if they are attempted. Port keys will not work under our wards unless created by me or Mr. Talbot, and I can guarantee you that both of us can throw off the Imperius."
"I can teach you spells to cast on all of your food and drinks, Pup" said Sirius. "The Blacks had quite a long and dark history and one never knew when poison or other potions might be brought into play. We had to prove we knew how to check food before we were let out of the nursery."
"While a prudent skill to learn, it shouldn't be necessary," commented Principal Graham. "Each meal is served only after being selected by the student. Unless the entire kitchen was compromised, the food should be safe." She offered a half-hearted smile to the concerned godfather and added, "the house elves have told me they are watching the kitchens, the dining rooms, the chairs, the dishes, and everything else Harry might come in contact with. They take their oaths to protect their charges very seriously."
Harry felt humbled at the friendly house elves efforts on his behalf. "I should stop by the kitchen and thank them," he noted and blushed at his Residence Supervisor's look of approval. Sirius tousled his hair, increasing his embarrassment.
"If you can still blush, then all isn't grey and dismal," his godfather said, "although I prefer the embarrassment to come from my own pranks. I guess I'll just have to work harder." He winked at Harry who groaned and covered his face.
Rita Skeeter fumed in her small office at the Daily Prophet. How dare the Editor complain about her story! So what if she made sly innuendos or posed difficult questions. Her readers ate it up! And he had the audacity to say that the paper's publishing policies were being reviewed? That she might have to change her approach?
She drew the morning's mail towards her and began sorting it. She growled and crumpled a note from a reader who questioned her comments into a ball before casting Incendio on it. Stupid readers. The next had a box with it, and she drew her wand to check it carefully for hexes. One could never be too careful. Finding nothing hidden, she unwrapped the box and found a note and a box of Honeydukes Finest Chocolates. She opened the box and bit into a chocolate truffle. Now that was much better. She unfolded the note as she enjoyed the rich chocolate flavor.
Dear Miss Skeeter,
I read your most recent story about Harry Potter with interest. What would we ever do without you to point out the hidden foibles of our heroes and would-be celebrities? One cannot trust the judgment of the average citizen, so we are fortunate that you stand willing to draw those conclusions for us.
Your Devoted Fan
She selected another of the velvety treats and bit into the white ganache. Now this was the reason she wrote, for the little people that appreciated her efforts. She dreamily ate her way through most of the box before a tempus charm sounded letting her know it was time for her next appointment. She slid the box of chocolates into her lime green handbag and hurried off.
"What a pleasure to speak with you, Madame Umbridge" the reporter said twenty minutes later looking at the squat woman behind the desk with apparent fascination.
"Minister Fudge likes to be sure the members of the press have unfettered access to those that can share the Ministry's views and perspectives" the other woman simpered, her jowls quivering.
"Yes, of course he does, especially when I cause so many problems for his opponents. Of course, I would be just as happy to cause problems for him if I could find a juicy enough story. Nothing like a good scandal to increase the readership, you know."
The dark eyes bulged even further on the florid face. "Excuse me? I don't believe I heard you correctly."
"Oh of course you did, dear. Scandal is what sells papers. What scandal would you like to reveal today? Is it true that your family somehow bred with the toad people of Transylvannia?" Her green quill began scratching furiously across the parchment.
The ugly face behind the desk began turning interesting shades of red and purple. "Now see here, you…you…"
"So tell me, what about the rumors that you're sharing an illicit love nest with the Minister? Is that how you reached your exalted position?"
A harsh cry was heard across the floor as Dolores Umbridge shrieked "Aurors! Someone call the Aurors! Arrest this…person!"
In the flurry of accusations and resulting chaos, no one realized that a box of chocolates in Rita's handbag dissolved, leaving nothing behind but the faint hint of a delicious aroma.