Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the idea of Harry Potter or any of the money making forms of it.
Questions Concerning:
Length of story: There will probably only be four books. I can't see how it could stretch out into completing a fifth. However, I don't see myself not writing a closing epilogue after the fourth year is complete.
Dumbledore's trust in Mage: Ultimately, Dumbledore trusts Mage because Fawkes does.
Fudge: He has stepped up and is acting as he is because he has taken his grandfather's message to heart. A name, after all, is pretty much one's legacy to the future.
A/N: Thanks for all the questions and reviews ^^ Enjoy :)
- - - Book 3 — Part 14: In the Eye of the Storm
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, honestly never liking when Hogwarts was vacant of students. Hogwarts didn't like it much either. She felt lonely. He, himself, felt bad about it since he would be leaving at the end of the week as well to his home in the Swiss Alps.
He had some studying to do.
He shook his head, now recalling the last weeks of term. The thing that stuck out the most to him at the moment was a conversation he had had with Madam Pomfrey.
It was a day after Harry and Neville had returned to their dorm room, both having received a thorough check up from Pomfrey.
-Flashback-
"Poppy?" Dumbledore asked as she entered his office — hesitantly, Dumbledore noted.
"Albus, I feel I need to speak to you about something," she said, approaching his desk.
"Please, sit down, Poppy. Lemon drop?" he asked, offering a lemon drop with one hand while motioning to a chair with the other.
She sat down and actually took the Lemon Drop!
Had the situation been a different one, he would have cheered. As it was, he beamed.
"Well," she began, plopping the sweet in her mouth while ignoring his childish glee.
"Yes, Poppy?" he prompted, since she paused.
"I'm sorry, Albus, I just don't know how to start," she said, concern in her eyes.
That caused Dumbledore to straighten a little.
"Well, my dear, why don't you start from the beginning? What is this about?" he asked.
"It's about Harry," she said softly, an odd strain in her voice.
Dumbledore blinked, for whatever reason his heart clenching upon her words.
"Is there something wrong?" he asked.
"Well, that's what I've come to talk to you about. He is fine, right now," she said.
"'Right now'?" he asked, not liking the sound of that. "Please, tell me what has gotten you concerned."
"Last night, when I went up to check on Longbottom and Potter, I of course scanned Potter. He looked like death warmed over, Albus! He was absolutely exhausted, as I told you yesterday, which was why I simply allowed him to stay in his bed."
Dumbledore nodded, encouraging her to continue. He had dropped by to find Harry sleeping not long after she had left. She was right, he had looked exhausted.
"Well, I did a complete body scan, only able to skim over the information while I was in the room. I had to wait until I was back in the infirmary to examine the scan further. Had it not been for what I had found with Mage, I wouldn't have thought about looking."
"What did you find?"
"Well, after finding scar tissue in Mage's heart, it got me a little concerned and curious about how Harry is doing after. . . ."
"His first year here," Dumbledore finished for her, instantly recalling that revolting curse Quirrell had cast on him in the Forbidden Forest.
"Yes. What that horrible man did to him!" she spat, now visibly angry.
Dumbledore patted her hand, which was currently a closed fist on the surface of his desk. She slowly relaxed.
"You found scar tissue, I take it?" he asked quietly.
"Yes, but that is not what has me concerned," she said. "I had expected to find some, but . . . oh Albus, how can I tell him?!"
Dumbledore was now alarmed.
"Poppy, please, try to calm down. What did you find?"
"I think it happened because of casting that powerful patronus charm he had; his body just couldn't handle such a sudden influx of magic. Oh, if I would have checked sooner, I might have realized this could become a problem!"
"Poppy!" Dumbledore shouted, having to resort to that due to her rising panic.
She instantly fell silent.
"Please, tell me what you have found and what has distressed you so," he said, lowering his voice.
"His magic, Albus. It is conflicting with his cardiac conduction system."
"His heartbeat?"
"Yes, the cardiac conduction system is what controls the rhythm of the heart. If he does high level magic again, there's a chance his heart could fail," she said, her voice threatening to rise again. It was already shaking.
"What showed you this?"
"The scan revealed that his heart had recently suffered a serious amount of trauma. I would almost compare it to a heart attack," she said, her voice so very sad. "A number of arteries were slightly swollen, as well as a large portion of the front, outer portion of the heart wall, particularly his right ventricle, which was what had gotten my initial attention."
"A heart attack?" he asked, his voice now just as strained as hers. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, Albus."
"And you're sure his magic caused this?"
"Yes, Albus. Even this morning, his heart was entirely coated with his magic, and his chest wasn't much better, and it doesn't seem like it will be moving out or dispersing anytime soon. The previous damage to his heart is probably the cause of this and is what makes it worse, since magic has an easier time latching onto scar tissue than healthy flesh.
"However, I don't believe it is a danger to him right now, but it is clear that if his magic, for whatever reason, suddenly spiked, it could affect him. Most likely negatively. The conduction system of the heart is not meant to have this much constant contact with magic. Why do you think muggle electronics break or don't work when near magic?"
"Why had this not developed before? Like when he cast those charms on me after Riddle had cursed me at the Ministry? That was some advanced magic," Dumbledore asked. "Or when he was releasing bouts of chaotic magic after the Chamber?"
"The healing spells he placed on you were controlled. I highly doubt his wild magic was very controlled when he cast that patronus spell. I can imagine he was downright terrified during the attack, and we also don't know what effects the other magics near him at the time may have had. We are still discovering the affects of Dementors on people, Albus, and frankly have no clue of its affects on people who have a form of wild magic like Harry has. His first encounter with those creatures should make that fact clear.
"As for when his magic was totally uncontrolled last year, his magic was extending outward, away from his center."
They were silent for a time, Dumbledore deep in thought.
"What should we do, Albus?"
"I'm not sure yet," he whispered.
-End Flashback-
Dumbledore had spent the rest of that day trying to decide the best way to go about this. He didn't want to further burden Harry, but not telling him this was down right dangerous. He finally decided to tell him to not do any advanced magic until he had been given the okay by Pomfrey.
That went over pretty well, Harry agreeing that he was still a little too tired to do anything anyway, and with summer coming, there wasn't any need to do serious magic like that. Dumbledore was relieved when Harry didn't ask any questions, but after the whole struggle with the chaotic magic, it was no wonder. He didn't even question when Pomfrey said she wanted to give him a weekly check up.
Dumbledore decided to tell Sirius a few days into summer, when Harry was likely to begin feeling more rested and would be tempted to do some things in the Black house.
Sirius was his guardian after all, and had a right to know.
Part of Dumbledore wanted to tell Harry himself, but another part of him couldn't face having to look at Harry while telling him the condition of his heart and the potential danger he would be in whenever he cast advanced magic.
Ultimately, he decided to leave it up to Sirius about how to tell Harry. If Sirius truly felt he couldn't bear telling Harry, Dumbledore would tell him. Either way, by the end of the following week, Harry would know.
Things could never be simple for Harry, could they?
Dumbledore sighed.
Fawkes gave a soft trill.
O o O o O
Harry eased back in his seat, half listening to the conversations around him in one of the compartments in the Hogwarts Express. It had taken some time for his chest to heal, and even now, if he moved too quickly, his lungs protested slightly against his ribcage and he could feel his heart beat warningly against his sternum. It wasn't something that concerned him greatly, but he decided to keep an eye on it.
After being reexamined by Hermione once the polyjuice-glamour pill had deactivated, they determined/theorized Harry's magic had made Voldemort's magic disperse out across his chest to cover more surface area so his own magic could cancel it out easier. Had Harry's magic not done this, Voldemort's vengeful magic would have no doubt penetrated straight though his chest to do serious internal damage, particularly to his heart. Thankfully, his magic had been present and had only allowed Voldemort's magic to skim just below the surface. It had still caused a great deal of pain and damage, but not nearly to the degree it could have been.
Harry reasoned his magic was still covering his chest, hence the 'tight' feeling he had. It was almost like a magic form of a bullet proof vest; only, instead of stopping/slowing bullets, his 'vest' worked against harmful spells and was secured just within his ribcage. This was his belief anyway. The others agreed with this assessment, Ron and Draco especially, going into a discussion on how ancient warlocks lined the inside of their robes with protective spells. It was very possible Harry's magic subconsciously did something similar after enduring the assault from Voldemort, and then strengthened further after treating Aberforth.
Not long after his talk with Dumbledore as Mage, Harry and Neville had returned to Gryffindor Tower.
Thankfully, Pomfrey's previous care had removed the bruises, so they didn't need to contend with that or worry about having to hide the obvious hand-print bruises, but Harry was still in rough shape. At first, they were concerned and wondered if they should go back to Madam Pomfrey, but after some rest, Harry bounced back. Evidently, his sudden decline was caused by his magic being temporarily siphoned off to help Aberforth.
In the end, by the time Neville and Harry returned to the dorm, most everything was well, or well enough to not cause Pomfrey to drag Harry off back to the infirmary. She did, however, order him to remain in bed for the rest of the week after frowning when she passed her wand over his chest.
Harry didn't know what to think of that, but she didn't say anything, and after she left, he was almost positive he had imagined the odd reaction. The only consequence, as far as Harry could tell, from the whole 'Hogsmeade Cleansing' that resulted from his patronuses was Dumbledore coming to him and gently ordering him not to do any serious magic until Pomfrey had cleared him for it. He also had to go in to see Pomfrey once a week for check ups.
It was reasonable enough, and he wasn't really itching to do any advanced magic at the moment anyway (not that Hermione or Susan would have let him if he had—as bad as Pomfrey, they are).
The last few weeks of school had been chaotic, and that was putting it lightly.
Most of the funerals of the fallen had been private, so Harry and the others were unable to attend Forshaw Craw's service. They did, however, send a heartfelt letter of condolence to Craw's family through Kingsley, his best friend. Kingsley thanked Hagrid (his contact) before heading off that weekend to pay his respects.
Later that same week, Dumbledore had Hogwarts pay their respects to Septima Vector and Aurora Sinistra, but their funerals took place elsewhere with close family.
Hermione and Greg were especially hit by Vector's death, having started Arithmancy that year. As for Astronomy, no student in that generation would ever look at a telescope the same way again. Understandably, Arithmancy and Astronomy were canceled for the rest of the year.
Harry shook himself from the depressing events of the past few weeks, falling to slightly embarrassing ones. Of course, after the Daily Prophet, his popularity sky rocketed. Everyone asked him how he had done it — produce multiple patronuses at once. Harry didn't have an answer, just said people were in trouble so he had to do something.
The Wizarding World was torn between mourning and rejoicing, all the while confused and thankful for the Custosae and their allies.
Word had quickly spread about how the Goblins were adamantly allying themselves with 'Mage' and how even the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest had stepped up and assisted in the defense of Hogwarts. The house elves of Hogwarts had also received some fame, many people gaining a healthy dose of the reality concerning the true power of the little elves.
And then there was Salandra, which had a number of people in hysterics. A Basilisk?! Guarding Hogwarts?! Is that possible/safe?! But then the photos of the mighty serpent defending the fighters of Hogwarts and bringing down one of the giants beyond the Headmaster convinced them of her loyalties and dependability. It also helped that Dumbledore had gained the ability to speak parseltongue. He informed Fudge that due to Salandra being his familiar, he gained the ability. Fudge didn't ask any further questions on the matter.
People, of course, were astonished when they learned the old Headmaster had become a Parselmouth, but, like everything else that had occurred, they were forced to take it in stride. There was little else they could do. However, the fact that there were, to their knowledge, two other parselmouths at Hogwarts (Malfoy and Potter) also helped sooth their initial feelings on a Light wizard suddenly revealing he was a parselmouth.
But even with all of that going on, everyone was most concerned and quite taken with the mysterious Mage, wanting to know his intentions, where he had come from, and who he really was. Rumors, of course, spread.
Some said he was Merlin's heir, while others said he was Merlin himself — reincarnated. Most strongly believed he was an old friend of Dumbledore's who had returned from traveling the world, while others thought he was related to the Flamels in some way. Some proposed he was a true Warmage, elite magic users who were believed to have dimmed out of existence long before wizards had an organized society.
However, despite all of the varying rumors surrounding Mage, everyone agreed he was a powerful wizard. He had killed Lord Voldemort's familiar, apparated onto Hogwart's grounds, had earned the respect of the Goblin Nation as well as their allegiance, and had formed a force they had never seen before.
Talk of ancient magics resurfacing, whispers of magical creatures stirring, and old allegiances rekindling were abound, all centered around the strong, fearless figure of Mage. The public was absolutely captivated.
The Ministry gave several statements, a number of them requesting Mage to make an appearance at the Ministry to speak with either the Minister or the Wizengomot (desirably both). Mage, through Dumbledore, replied by saying he would in the near future. He left it at that, to the great disappointment of Ministry officials.
Mage had not been able to speak with Dumbledore much at all besides about sending that statement to the Ministry. He wished he did, especially since it seemed like Dumbledore was worried about something, but time kept slipping away from him.
Harry shook his head, still deep in thought as Ron managed to choke down a struggling chocolate frog. Hermione, Greg, Draco, Susan, and Neville were in a deep discussion on how they should run things during the summer, while Ginny, Vince, and Luna debated on the existence of Purple Pumpkin Planters.
Luna was the newest Custosae addition, and quite an addition if he did say so himself.
Harry and the others had already been talking about recruiting a new Custosae member, particularly one who had a contact with the press. Luna's name came up, and after thinking about it, they agreed she had potential. Ginny especially pointed out her strengths and how she could see truths many others overlook. Granted, she was a bit, well, odd, but her unique view of the world could be a great asset, not to mention how her father was editor of the Quibbler.
So it was settled. After the last Hogwarts Army meeting, Ginny approached her. Luna quickly agreed, immediately suggesting a codename for herself: Cellular.
Harry smiled, before his thoughts traveled elsewhere.
Dumbledore had changed a little after the attack, which, considering what had happened with his brother, made sense. He was still an eccentric Headmaster, but even the more oblivious students noticed he had become more serious and seemed to walk differently. He still used his cane (more for decoration than use) but each step was pronounced and had purpose. If any had doubted before if Dumbledore was truly feared by Voldemort, that doubt quickly died.
Aberforth remained in the castle, and, if rumors were to be believed, was planning on becoming the Astronomy professor the following year, since he would have a clean bill of health by then. Harry was glad about this. Arianna's wish for her brothers was coming true.
"Harry," Ron said, breaking him from his thoughts.
"Yeah?" Harry asked.
"Any plans for the summer?"
"Not really, though I'm going to have to find a way to talk to the Minister at the very least soon," Harry said.
"Hmm, you think the goblins could help?" Hermione asked.
"Perhaps," Harry said, a plan already forming in his mind as the train stopped.
Looking out the window, he could see a number of goblins patrolling the platform while parents and families eagerly stood as their children got off the train. Neville's grandmother could be seen subtly searching the train windows with her eyes. Revlis waved his tail at her, even though it was clear she had just missed him before Neville came into view with him.
Harry followed the others out with Teddy settling on his foot, before quickly finding Sirius and Remus.
"Hey, you two, ready to go home?" Sirius asked, beaming.
Harry nodded, for the first time truly able to enjoy the start of summer.
O o O o O
[Two days later]
Fudge paced in his office, positively nervous about who would be coming a few hours from then. Dumbledore, just that morning, had flooed him, stating that he had been requested by Mage to hold an emergency Wizengamot meeting that afternoon. He had decided it was time to clarify a few things and make his first formal appearance before the leaders of the Ministry, and ultimately, the Wizarding World.
Fudge immediately ordered things into motion, preparing the meeting hall, which in this case would be Courtroom Ten, since it was the largest Wizengamot chamber available, and calling Wizengamot members and other important officials to arrive at the requested time.
Arriving late to this was the last thing he wanted any of them to do. He wanted to make a good impression on the man who had no doubt been the reason why many members of their society were still alive.
Fudge had gained a plethora of gray hair during the past month. From the multiple simultaneous attacks, the Potter boy casting a multi-patrunus spell, Dumbledore being a Parselmouth, Mage confronting Voldemort in front of Hogwarts with an army of Goblins, and then later learning from two stunned Healers that Mage had done dark magic to save the life of Dumbledore's brother. . . .
Fudge was grateful and positively amazed he hadn't had a stroke yet.
Fudge took a deep breath, trying to calm down. In less than two hours now, he and the members of the Wizengamot would be in the presence of the man many were claiming to be the next pillar of power in the Wizarding World. Before, the two clear pillars of power were Dumbledore and Voldemort. But now, there was another.
A man Dumbledore respected and honored.
A man who Voldemort feared and despised.
Who was Mage, truly?
Was he a Warmage? It was certainly possible and made some sense, being friends with Goblins and all. But he didn't dress like a Warmage, but then, Warmages were barely more than myth now. Perhaps he was a modern Warmage? He did seem to have an impressive number of devoted and powerful followers. Fudge would not soon forget how well the Amici had managed to evacuate and thwart most of the attack during the first assault at the Ministry.
But, perhaps, he wasn't a Warmage. But what else could he be?
Who else could have that much power to interrupt an entire battle with just his arrival? How else could he have that much skill to charge Voldemort, apparating right in front of him before disappearing a second later to appear behind him to kill his lightning fast familiar? And who else could have so much knowledge about dark spells, so much that they could manipulate them to save a man's life without bringing him more harm?
Fudge didn't know.
Voldemort was another he was, understandably, concerned about. After the huge assault he had dealt to the Wizarding World, the evil wizard had fallen off the radar. Completely. Fudge was not looking forward to when the monster would return from licking his wounds. He was sure to be quite vengeful when he did. . . .
And then there was Dumbledore. He honestly didn't know what to think about him anymore. He was still the wise old childish man, but there was . . . well, age to him now. He didn't know if that was from suddenly becoming a master to a thousand year old basilisk or what, but Dumbledore had an ancient feel to him now. One he hadn't had before. But then, perhaps he was misinterpreting it. It could very well be concern or anxiety, which, thinking about it now, was understandable and entirely possible, if not likely. The man had nearly lost his brother, not to mention the school he had been a professor at for well over half a century.
Hmm, Fudge thought, stopping in his pacing. But he seems worried about something else, something that hasn't yet been saved or resolved. Did something happen he didn't tell me?
Fudge shook his head, deciding to stop himself from thinking any further on things that he probably wouldn't be able to help much with anyway, if there really was anything wrong.
He looked at the clock. An hour left. He would head over to the room now. He was tired of pacing.
O o O o O
Dumbledore stood in the center area of the room, just three feet from the direct center where the podium was placed in front of. The chair of the accused that was usually there had been removed.
Mage had contacted him the previous night, telling him he had found a good time to appear before the Wizengamot to possibly answer some questions and clarify his intentions. He stated the goblins knew he would be arriving, and to not be bothered if they made any sudden appearances before his arrival.
Mage had asked Dumbledore to stand three feet to the right of where he was to speak. Dumbledore felt it best not to ask why at the time.
So that was where he was now. Standing, silently watching well over fifty robed people walk in and settle around him in the elevated area. He was a little impressed so many were coming early. Fudge had been one of the first.
"Albus, I take it you have an idea of why this meeting has been called?" Tiberius Ogden, a Wizengamot Elder, asked.
Dumbledore was the Wizengamot's Chief Warlock after all.
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "But I must ask you all to remain patient until he arrives, which will be shortly."
His gentle but no non-sense tone made them obey, causing them to go to their seats quietly without following his reply with more questions.
Finally, everyone was settled, though many of them were wondering why Dumbledore remained where he was.
O o O o O
Griphook smiled as Harry entered the protected room. Due to the 'rules', Harry had to be alone with his account manager for certain conversations. So, the boy's Godfather decided to run a number of errands before he would take care of his own family vault business. Oh how glad he was that his forefathers had put in place normally unneeded protocols, just for times such as these.
Sealing the room, Griphook watched Harry become Mage.
After watching him take down Nagini, Griphook knew he had made the right choice. Harry would do what he had promised. He would bring about a positive change between their two people. Their oppression under wizards would soon be at an end. Soon, they would be treated as equals, instead of inferior beings existing 'in peace' with them because they were a convenience—their economic backbone.
"I'm ready," Mage said, wearing very sharp robes over an even more distinguished vest of brown and blue. "Thank you, Rook."
"The honor is mine," he said with a nod. "The elf ward is down."
Mage returned the nod, before closing his eyes and . . . -POP-
O o O o O
The members of the Wizengamot were becoming restless, but they kept their cool well enough as Dumbledore calmly checked his watch again before straightening his back even more as he replanted his cane before him.
Unknown to those within, Noble Goblin Guards had taken positions at the entry doors into the chamber. They knew who would be arriving within.
Everyone was silent, most glancing at the double doors where they believed someone of importance would be coming through at any moment, for Dumbledore and Fudge had yet to tell them who was coming. Dumbledore, because he figured it would be more fun for Mage. Fudge, because he didn't want to have to try to calm all of them before Mage's arrival. It was easier this way.
Dumbledore mentally counted the last second off to 4pm.
-POP-
The entire assembly took in one collective gasp as their eyes snapped to the center of the room beside Dumbledore to find the man they had all seen on the cover of the Daily Prophet weeks before . . . stabbing the head of the Dark Lord's familiar.
Dumbledore calmly turned, not bothered at all how the man penetrated the (old and new) wards of the Ministry, as if it was nothing.
"Good afternoon, Mage," Dumbledore said, joyfully holding out his wand hand.
"Hello, Albus," Mage said, taking his hand before pulling Dumbledore into a brief manly embrace.
Harry had seen Sirius and a number of other males do this, such as Mr. Weasley and Remus. It was clear to everyone this sort of hug had nothing to do with romantic affection, but brotherhood.
The greeting between the two light leaders soon ended and Mage looked up to the stunned eyes staring down at him. Fudge leaned forward, being between Madam Bones and Griselda Marchbanks.
"Members of the Wizengamot, may I introduce you to Mage, Head of the Custosae de Lux," Dumbledore said.
It was like a dam had broken as every member of the Wizengamot stood up and began clapping loudly. Even the older members were beside themselves. A few of the ladies were blushing.
Mage took it in stride, knowing there was going to be some sort of reaction to his coming. He slowly lifted a hand for silence. He got it in an instant.
"Please, be seated," Mage said.
Everyone sat, utterly entranced by the figure below them, and leaned forward.
"As Albus said, I am the Head of the company you know as the Custosae. I have come today to simply state what my intentions and goals are," he said, his eyes gliding over them all. "I am here to help bring about freedom and safety, but I have come and formed the Custosae for more than just to assist in bringing about the permanent defeat of Voldemort."
Some people jumped upon hearing Voldemort's name, but having Dumbledore as Chief Warlock had gotten most members accustom to hearing the Dark Lord's name.
Dumbledore gave Mage a soft glance, still standing where he had been before (a few feet to Mage's right), honestly not knowing what Mage was going to say. All their discussion the night before had covered was that he would be coming to talk to the Wizengamot, not specifically what he was going to share.
"The Wizarding World has become corrupted; it has lost its purity and honor. For generations it has been breaking down and those residing within its blanket have watched it slowly deteriorate." Mage paused, watching them glance at one another as he felt Dumbledore's eyes fall upon him before he stated, "I am not talking about blood."
That got a more pronounced reaction from those above him while he felt Dumbledore's stare ease into a gaze of contemplation.
"I am talking about the Wizarding World's understanding and compassion toward magical beings, human and otherwise.
"From the moment I have . . . reentered the Wizarding World, I have found it appalling and disappointing," Mage said honestly, placing his hands on the podium. "When I first learned I would be reentering, I was excited and looked forward to seeing how things were and how they had developed, for I was certain a great deal had changed since I had departed.
"But much has stayed the same, or has gotten worse."
Most everyone blinked, stunned there would be anyone else as blunt as Dumbledore when it came to certain things. But then, for all they knew, Mage was blunt about everything.
The more intelligent people had latched on the word 'reentered'. Who was he before he left? Why had he left? When had he left?
Mage turned his head, for the first time truly taking all of their faces in as well as the room. He closed his eyes as memories of cases and meetings and memories of memories (ones Voldemort had taken from his Death Eaters or stolen from victims), either witnessed or studied by Voldemort concerning the Wizengamot, flooded his mind. . . .
He saw cases where the accused received an unfair trial and others where justice to the clearly guilty was not carried out. He saw a few members stand up and try to make others see reason and the truth, only for them to be ignored or outright dismissed and removed from their positions. He saw bribes, deceits, half-truths, and greed progress throughout the decades, the unsavory activity only declining slightly when Dumbledore had been instated as Chief Warlock.
He saw the Ministry's Law fail or almost fail the people time and again, social order barely hanging on by a thread, a thread that owed its survival to Dumbledore, Marshbanks, and a few other members. He saw Voldemort's followers key into the widening cracks in the once solid foundation of the Wizengamot's moral code, gaining valuable information to be used against the Light in the war. He saw the faces of the manipulated, the liars, and the resigned. Many of these faces were currently present in the room.
A number of seconds passed before Mage reopened his silver-blue eyes, the clarity of thought in them visible for all to see.
Taking in all of those memories, Mage suddenly realized how much more power Voldemort had than he had previous believed. He truly had eyes and ears everywhere, as well as a truly deep root in the Wizarding World. He was like a weed. No wonder the first war against him had been so horrible. People didn't know who they could trust. Was the person beside them a follower of Voldemort, a power hungry politician, or an honest individual?
But how does one kill such a weed?
By persistent truth and with a system of accountability. Lesser men would call it intimidation.
"Things need to change and it will begin in this place," Mage stated, his voice so firm it might as well have been stone. "You are the leaders and law makers of society. It is your responsibility to set a moral standard. If you are corrupt or turn a blind eye to corrupt behavior, the people you should be serving will follow."
"C-corrupt?" a man asked, evidently accustom to speaking his mind out loud in this room. "This is the high court of Britain! We do not allow such outlandish behavior here!"
"Examine yourself carefully, Mr. Pich, for a number of trials you were present in makes your statement false," Mage said, resembling Dumbledore's tone quite well when he was particularly displeased and making it known.
Mr. Pich bristled slightly, but upon remembering who he was speaking to, he closed his opening mouth. Many in the room straightened. How had Mage known Pich's name? Was he that well versed in the goings-on of the Wizengamot? Average citizens certainly didn't know the name of every member and definitely didn't know the less popular members.
"I know a number of cases and trials that has been brought into and closed by the Wizengamot. I know who resided over them and who stood up and who remained silent. I know of many instances where justice was overruled, truth was silenced, and respect was based on money rather than character.
"If you believe what I am saying is in error, say so and give your reason, but make it an intelligent one. Please, prove me wrong, because I do not wish to be right in this," Mage said.
"Mr. Mage," Madam Marshbanks said, standing up. "I cannot speak for everyone here, but I want to see this change you speak of. I want to see the day when this court once again stands for what it should. I am sorry I cannot prove you wrong, because you are right. There are members here who should not be members, but are because of broken bureaucracy, societal inertia, and selfish bigotry." She straightened her old back, leaning toward the railing slightly as she smiled. "You have my support, Mr. Mage."
Soft whispers broke out before another person stood.
"No offense to Mr. Mage, but, Madam Marshbanks, we do not know who this gentleman really is," a fellow Elder said. "For all we know, this could be an elaborate ruse to undermine the authority of the Wizengamot. I cannot support anyone I know very little about and who might very well become a future threat. Were it not for his recent actions against You-Know-Who, I might suggest he was an agent of his. And his gaining the support of the Goblins can also be called into suspect, not that I am not grateful for their latest assistance in things, but circumstances can change. Why have they now decided to involve themselves in the business of wizards? Why have they allied themselves to this man?"
Madam Bones stood up as the Marshbanks and the other man sat back down.
"I am willing to vouch for Mage and his organization. This is the first time I have had the honor of being in Mage's close presence, but I have worked closely with his assistants, and they have been professional, trustworthy, and honorable. Need I remind you who some known Amici, who are under the Custosae, are?: Sirius Black, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Severus Snape, and Alastor Moody. Individuals who have conducted themselves with dignity and bravery, despite how some of them have been mistreated by the legal system of our society, such as Sirius Black.
"Mr. Mage has legally registered the Custosae as a business and has saved the lives of countless civilians and Ministry workers. His actions have clearly already spoken for him."
"And the support he has from the Goblins?" a voice asked near the back.
Bones looked to Mage.
"Being so close to our society, I asked them if they wanted to be part of something that will destroy Voldmort once and for all, remove the racist ideals of the Ministry, and place a firm desire for peace between our people, and all other magical nations. They gladly accepted."
Mage decided to be as open and as honest as he could without endangering anyone. Apparently, for some in the room, he was too honest.
"'Racist ideals'! Sir, you go too far!" a woman began, only to be cut off by another Wizengamot member.
"You have no authority to make negotiations!"
"Circumventing treaties, you are!"
"Who are you to—"
"SILENCE!" Dumbledore shouted, sparks coming out of his wand as he reminded everyone of his presence. "Listen to yourselves! A number of my first year pupils behave with more maturity!"
Adequately chastised, the previously shouting men and women fell silent. There had just been over a handful.
"Thank you, Albus," Mage said, bringing everyone's attention back on himself.
Mage raised his face, turning his eyes to the man who had last spoken, before casting his eyes across them all.
"Who am I?" he asked softly, raising an eyebrow. "Who are you? Laws have been broken by some of the very members of this court, currently with us I might add, while a madman endangers the very public you should be doing all you can to protect, but can't because of foolhardy political maneuvers. There is a conflict that has been allowed to snowball into a horrid war because of irrational beliefs in blood superiority that have been permitted to remain and grow for centuries.
"And so, with all of that, you feel you have the right to point your finger at me as I dare to state the truth? You have the audacity to raise your voice against me for becoming friends with another race and asking them if they would like to be a part of something they have the right to? You claim I have no authority to treat them as equals and call doing so making 'negotiations' and 'circumventing treaties'?
"Who am I to do this? — I honestly doubt any of you are ready to hear that answer, and after listening to your display, I doubt some of you ever will be. . . .
"Who am I, indeed."
Mage shook his head, never having raised his voice or laced it with anything more than righteous anger. Many were impressed as they forced themselves not to glare at those who had spoken so rashly. All of them, understandably, were also wondering what Mage's true identity was, but knew better than to ask right then.
"As of tomorrow, anyone who is still a member of the Wizengamot will be held accountable for their actions, or lack of, from that time onward under the code this establishment was originally founded. I will hold them to it, as I am sure the majority of this court will." Mage turned to Dumbledore to verify his suggestion would be allowed and carried out.
"I agree," Dumbledore said, now speaking to them all. "If you feel you are incapable of keeping to the Old Code of Conduct, which we all know simply involves members being honest, truth seeking individuals dedicated to the people the Ministry serves, you are to resign. The Old Code never should have been allowed to be pushed aside. It is what we promised to be the moment we took our positions herein."
"Aye!" Tiberius Ogden shouted, which sparked well over half of the Wizengamot to echo a vote of agreement.
"Aye. The time has come for true leaders to step up and lead the next generation into an age of respect and honor, instead of cowardice," Fudge said as he stood, quoting his late grandfather.
The older generations in the room nodded their heads in satisfaction, recalling the leadership of Filis George Fudge decades before. Others were energized, for the first time in a long time feeling they would partake in something worthwhile and actually make a difference — what they had wanted to do all along.
Those who had spoken out against Mage earlier had nothing more to say and were currently cowed, thinking about the new circumstances surrounding them and what they should do.
Mage looked at the clock on the wall, telling Dumbledore he needed to depart.
"Thank you for your time, Mage," Dumbledore said, taking his hand. "Together we will work to make a better future for all."
"You're welcome, Albus," Mage said, before giving one last look at the assembled members above.
They were all standing respectfully, even those who would rather not, but a majority of them were clearly happy he had come, and proud they had been among the lucky few who had witnessed and partaken in an event that would become one of great historical importance.
It was happening, Harry realized. A revolution, or, perhaps, an overdue reformation.
"Make no mistake; we are in the eye of the storm. The war against Voldemort will get worse before it is brought to an end. Know the current silence won't last forever. Thank you for tolerating my presence."
Mage turned back to Dumbledore, gave and received a departing nod, before . . . -POP-
A/N: Well, there's the end to book 3. I know this part could be considered filler to a degree, but hopefully it was still a compelling part. Please let me know, and please share some thoughts on Harry's apparent new problem.... Would like to hear 'em to get ideas flowing :P
Next part: The Calm
