Chapter Six: The Myrrdin Code
Wordy swallowed hard, but forced his shoulders back and his head high. No matter what, he was going to face this like a cop, like a member of the best SRU team in Toronto. He watched as the chamber quieted down and the Chief Warlock turned to Lord Malfoy. "The floor is ceded to Lord Malfoy," the Chief Warlock rumbled.
Lord Malfoy looked a bit ragged around the edges with the bombshell of Miss Skeeter's trial and conviction, but he rose to his feet with smug disdain and flashing eyes. "I thank you, Chief Warlock," he intoned solemnly. "And now, here before you all, I challenge Lord Lestrange to take the Wizengamot oath! Let him prove his credentials and his right to be in this chamber!" Lord Malfoy turned to look directly at Wordy, a sneer crossing his face. "Let there be no doubt that only a full wizard may take their family Seat in this court!"
A wand was lifted and Lord Potter acknowledged. "So, after all this, Lord Malfoy, you still maintain that Miss Skeeter's evidence is reliable?" Disbelief dripped from every syllable and Lord Potter cast a highly skeptical look at Lord Malfoy. The Wizengamot murmured agreement and equal disapproval.
Lord Malfoy flushed, but rallied. "I do, Lord Potter, but I am willing to let Lord Lestrange prove me wrong." A cunning leer as Lord Malfoy turned back to Wordy. "Or will you bow and admit what this chamber already knows…you are a Squib and thus guilty of line theft and magical manipulation of the inheritance ritual!"
For an instant, silence hung, then Lord Potter sighed softly and dropped his head a touch. "Chief Warlock, permission to speak as the proxy of the Ancient and Noble House of Calvin?"
Tension built as Lord Malfoy turned to look at Lord Potter, one pale brow lifting. The Chief Warlock studied Lord Potter, then inclined his head. "Proceed, Lord Potter."
A deep breath, then Lord Potter brought his head back up, emerald flashing. "The Ancient and Noble House of Calvin invokes the Myrrdin Code!" Shock swept the room, but Lord Potter was not finished. "Under the Myrrdin Code we admit to this chamber that Lord Malfoy…is correct. Lord Wordsworth is not a full magical, but that matters not to the Myrrdin Code. Any magic is enough under the Myrrdin Code for Headship to be granted and a family Seat in this court claimed!"
If chaos had reigned during Miss Skeeter's trial, now it was utter bedlam; people were on their feet and screaming, howling outrage and threats at both Wordy and Lord Potter; Lord Longbottom wasn't spared their ire either. Wordy kept his head high, pretending that he was on escort duty with a particularly irate group of protestors to deal with.
Lord Potter didn't wait for the room to calm either; he kept right on going. "As Goblin-friend, the House of Calvin demands that Lord Wordsworth take the oath as a Wordsworth in the name of goblin-kind's vengeance against the House of Lestrange for their violation of the treaties between our kind and theirs!" The yowling cut off so completely that Wordy shook his head, wondering if he'd gone deaf.
Lord Potter drew a breath and spat into the sudden horrified silence, "The House of Calvin acknowledges the position of the Wizengamot, that only full wizards may sit on this court and render both legislation and judgment, but it does not agree. No longer will the House of Calvin sit idly by as tradition is elevated above the law and purebloods are lifted up in favor of their fellow magicals, as Squibs and Squib-borns are mistreated and viewed as little more than an inconvenience, to be ignored and cast aside, their lives ruined through no fault of their own. The House of Calvin declares that we have forgotten our own past, our own heritage. We have forgotten that once we stood beside those without magic and worked together to build our future."
As Lord Potter trailed off, Lord Longbottom rose to his feet, pale, but determined. "The Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom stands with the House of Calvin." He turned, looking directly at Wordy as he continued, "When I first met Lord Wordsworth, I judged him as a Lestrange. I ignored the evidence of my eyes and the tone of the letter I had received from his Account Manager." Wordy flinched, but Lord Longbottom wasn't done. "But Lord Wordsworth proved to me that he's nothing like the Lestranges who took my parents from me. He deserves the chance to prove the same to you all, regardless of whether or not he has enough magic to be a full wizard."
Lord Potter's voice rang out once more. "As the Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, I also concur with the House of Calvin. We judge others based on tradition, based on family history instead of their history. We've forgotten the best parts of ourselves and allowed fear to rule our world." He stopped, glaring at the chamber. "I did not lose my parents and many of my friends or fight a war so we could bury ourselves in fear and corruption once more."
The chamber was dead silent as Wordy pushed himself up, the two phoenixes fluttering up as well. The blonde female phoenix settled herself on Wordy's shoulder, ignoring his askance look at her. Fawkes piped something that sounded like amusement and flew to Lord Potter, settling on the railing in front of the raven haired wizard. The Chief Warlock met Wordy's eyes, the calm in them forced. "Lord Wordsworth, are you prepared to take your oath?"
Wordy's nod was jerky and he didn't trust his voice as he stepped out from his seat and made his way down the steps with every pair of eyes on him, hostility radiating from almost all of them. The constable drew in a breath as he pulled out the wand he'd gotten only the day before; Neville had, that morning, explained the oath and how to take it.
As Wordy lifted the wand for the oath, magic tickled around him, a subliminal kitten's purr reaching his ears. Magic, familiar magic, twined around his ankles and thrummed a greeting as it curled around him and the wand in his right hand. In the chamber, Wordy's gray eyes glowed a subtle violet, but it had been so long since a Wild Mage of any kind had graced the Wizengamot that the Chief Warlock did not realize what was happening.
Instead, the Chief Warlock regarded Wordy an instant longer and then began the oath. "I, Malcolm Davis, Chief Warlock, witness the calling of Kevin Wordsworth to take the Seat of the House of Wordsworth by blood, by law, and by oath."
Wordy sucked in a breath, then answered, "I, Kevin Wordsworth, Head of the House of Wordsworth, swear to act with honor and fairness in the name of justice, law, and magic, and accept the Seat of the House of Wordsworth by blood, by law, and by oath. So have I sworn; so mote it be."
The entire chamber stilled, watching and waiting. Wordy felt the magic around him surge, answered, weakly, by a sensation he'd felt once before, when he'd changed his family name; his own core, attempting to flare to life. The Squib grimaced at the instant wave of exhaustion and the throbbing headache. For another breath, nothing happened, and then his wand pulsed softly, lighting up with a violet-blue glow. Above them, the seat that Wordy had been sitting in flared silver, accepting the oath.
The Chief Warlock looked rather disappointed, but spoke nonetheless. "I confirm your oath is valid, Lord Wordsworth. Please take your seat."
Wordy shook his head, stepping back a bit. "That's it? All that fuss and now you want me to just go tamely to my seat like it never happened?" His eyes narrowed. "I don't think so." He turned sharply towards Neville. "Lord Longbottom? Since I'll be going back to Toronto as soon as I can, the proxy's still yours."
"That is against our traditions," Lord Malfoy spat angrily.
Wordy turned and looked the bigot in the eye. "Do I look like I care?" he demanded. "You came into my workplace, arrested me, essentially, for being a Squib, and hauled me here so you could have yourself a nice little show trial before tossing me in Azkaban." Lord Malfoy paled at Wordy's glare.
"You called me by a name I've never gone by and claimed that since my mother doesn't have magic, she doesn't matter at all as far as my citizenship goes. And now you think you can tell me what to do with my seat and my proxy?" Wordy shook his head. "I'd tell you what I think of you, but then my wife would clock me over the head." The phoenix on his shoulder trilled a laugh.
The constable turned his back on Lord Malfoy and stalked back to the Chief Warlock. "We done here? 'Cause I'd like to go home now."
The Chief Warlock's expression turned even more disapproving, not that Wordy cared. He lifted his gavel to call an end to the session, seeing as the new Lord wasn't about to return to his seat when a yell rose from behind. "Wordy, look out!"
Wordy spun, bringing his vambraces up as a jet of light shot at him from the security Auror; Giles roared outrage, pulling his own wand as the blonde phoenix took flight with a furious screech of her own. Blue light blazed in front of the vambraces, absorbing the hit and Wordy rolled to the side, ending up behind a short wall next to the lowest stairs. The constable reached for his gun, hissing under his breath when his hand hit an empty holster. The phoenix swooped, snatching up the wand Wordy'd dropped as soon as he'd turned.
The security Auror whipped his wand to the side, sending another bolt at Giles who ducked away. Wordy growled and darted out from behind his cover, heading straight for the rogue. The rogue focused on Giles, a glazed look on his face. Wordy's fellow Auror popped up, spotted Wordy making his move, and threw several half-wild Stunners before ducking back down as Reductor curses slammed into the wall right behind him. Before the rogue could throw any more curses, Wordy rammed him, using the same move he'd used once upon a time against Simmons to take the man down.
"Stay down!" Wordy snarled, knocking the wizard's wand away and wrestling the man's hands behind his back. "Hold still!" The wizard kept struggling, but it was flimsy and weak, more an annoyance than anything else. Wordy looked up at Giles and held out his free hand as he kept the rogue down with leverage and the weight of one knee. "Cuffs!"
Giles reached down and came up with a pair of runic cuffs; they flew over the distance and Wordy caught them, almost twirling them before he started cuffing the Auror. Giles moved out from behind his own cover and strode over, wand at the ready. "You got him?"
"Yeah, I got him, but I think we got an Imperious here," Wordy replied as he finished cuffing the wizard and pulled him upright. "Take a look at his face."
The other man tilted his head, studying the cuffed Auror, then nodded. "Good call there, Wordy. Sure looks like the Imperious to me."
It was only then that Wordy took the time to look around; the Wizengamot, to the last man, was staring at him and Giles with something that looked like a mix of shock and awe.
Author note: Credit to CatsAreCool and her story "A Marauder's Plan" (here on this site) for the Wizengamot oath and for being most of the inspiration behind the entire scene of Wordy giving his oath.
