Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time
Chapter 12
Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, sighed tiredly when she put her signature on another document. Ever since Abraxas Malfoy's murder two weeks ago she had gotten hardly any sleep. The investigation some people insisted on was going nowhere with the two surviving werewolves knowing nothing and there being no other witnesses. During the last days she had received countless visitors who demanded her to do something about the 'werewolf threat'. She was virtually certain one or several of these 'concerned citizens' had paid Greyback and his pack for the murder. Although maybe, just maybe she was unfair about that. Someone like the late Lord Malfoy had never a shortage of enemies and it was always possible someone from outside Britain was responsible. The lack of leads certainly didn't do her standing in the Ministry any favors, but thankfully she had enough political capital and good enough connections to Minister Fudge to weather the storm. Well, she had been forced to hand over authority over Azkaban to the Minister's Office as a sort of bribe, but that was hardly a loss in her opinion.
A knock on the door caused her to look up. "Enter."
The door opened, revealing her chief secretary. "Madam Bones, Head Auror Scrimgeour is here for the scheduled meeting."
"Send him in, please."
A moment later Rufus Scrimgeour entered the office, greeting Amelia warmly. The first topic of their conversation was once again the Malfoy murder. There were no new insights, of course. Hopefully they would be able to close the pointless investigation in a week or two. After dealing with several other matters they arrived at the topic of the upcoming werewolf legislation.
"Undersecretary Umbridge and Stephenson from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures visited me yesterday. She wasn't happy when I told her that we will need drastically more funds if we are to try and round up all the feral werewolves. They are awfully good at staying hidden." Rufus explained.
Amelia grimaced slightly. That would interfere with her planned downsizing. Unfortunately that meant she would have to keep all the sycophants left over from the Bagnold administration instead of kicking them out. Amelia had come into office shortly after Fudge became Minister in 1990. Now it was the middle of 1993 and she still hadn't managed to rid herself of all the leftovers, either by firing them (sadly the least used option), easing them into early retirement or promoting them to positions where they couldn't do any harm. She didn't have an especially high opinion of Fudge's intelligence or competence outside of his talent for economics and playing the political game (a fact she carefully kept to herself), but he was heads and shoulders above Millicent Bagnold, The-Minister-who-won-the-war; or The-Minister-who-couldn't-find-her-own-behind-with-a-tracking-charm in Amelia's mind.
Bagnold had driven the government deep into debt. That had been reasonable in the after-war rebuilding, but she had continued running a massive deficit and expanding the Ministry beyond all reason even when the tax revenues reached a fifteen-year high. Three years later they still hadn't managed to pay off even a tenth of the debts, but at least they had shifted the money owed from the goblins to the wizarding families and other creditors. Giving those vicious little monsters even the slightest lever to influence policy was unwise in the extreme. The last Goblin war had ended in a stalemate, but barely. It was one of the reasons Fudge was always trying to be accommodating to the rich families (and the main reason Amelia had become Head of the largest, most influential department of the Ministry). It had not been easy to drive Bagnold from office and required a political coalition and several compromises that still caused her headaches. Unfortunately, that was pretty much standard in the byzantine politics of the Ministry.
Her long-time ally had interpreted her facial expression correctly. "I know, Amelia, I know, but the werewolf problem has been allowed to fester far too long. We don't even know the current rate of infection after the Leach administration suspended the compulsory registration in the 60's. Many families keep werewolf attacks secret, letting the problem grow and grow. Stephenson painted a dark picture. Cases of Lycanthropy were on the decline before Leach became Minister, now nobody knows. The bleeding hearts under Dumbledore did a real number on disease control."
"Typical." Amelia sighed. "At least this time he won't be able to stop us completely. Cornelius and Delores had already something planned, but this murder gave us a far better opening."
Rufus nodded. "How is it going on the legislative side of things?"
"At the moment it looks like as if mandatory isolation is off the table for werewolves living in society. Dumbledore and his allies are still hemming and hawing, but Cornelius isn't inclined to listen to the man this time. Despite that there will be some sort of compromise in the end, unfortunately. I guess we will have to wait until the exact text is available. Is there anything else?" Amelia asked.
Rufus hesitated for a moment. "There is another matter. Do you remember Auror trainee Nymphadora Tonks?"
"The metamorphagus, yes. She should be finishing her second year of Auror training by now and be assigned a mentor. I believe Alastor Moody volunteered to take her under his wing. What about her?"
The leonine man before her sighed. "She was among the first to arrive on the scene when the disturbance was detected. As you know one of the surviving werewolves attacked and almost managed to bite her. I fear she didn't take it well."
Amelia winced. The scene of the murder had been one of the worst she had seen in the last decade. The entire alley had looked like it had been painted in blood and liberally strewn with body parts. The late Lord Malfoy had exacted a high price for his life before he went down. His body had been almost completely ripped to pieces at the time of his death. Being unexpectedly attacked by a rabid werewolf under these circumstances was nightmare fuel.
"How bad is it?"
"Very. I gave her time off and had her see a mind healer. She is mostly recovered, but each time we try combat practice she gets the shakes. Reacting to incoming calls causes a panic attack. The healer doesn't know if it will ever get better. She's useless as an Auror under these circumstances." Rufus admitted unhappily. "It's a real shame; the girl had a lot of potential. Normally I would have to turn her out. I can't keep her if she isn't able to do the job and I wondered if you…"
The grey-haired witch nodded in understanding. Since the young woman hadn't yet completed the training she would be kicked out of the programs without benefits. Considering her situation that was very harsh and would close many doors to future employment. "Send her to me. I can use her as another secretary for now and will find something more fitting later."
Rufus looked relieved. "Thank you, Amelia, I knew I could depend on you."
A few minutes later Amelia was once again alone in her office and working through another stack of documents. It was only five hours, three meetings and seven stacks of documents later that she could finally floo home. A shower and a good meal later made her feel considerable better.
"Is there anything I should know about?" she asked the head elf while she sat comfortably in an armchair before the blazing chimney.
The elf told her that several letters and a package had arrived earlier that day.
'Better to not let it pile up.'
With a small sigh she stood up and moved to the room where the elves had left the mail. Carefully checking it for any spells or other surprises Amelia went through the letters. Most of them were only invitations for social events, but some of them were private correspondence with her old friends. She would have to make time to answer those soon. The package seemed to be a large stack of documents. A letter was enclosed on top.
Dear Madam Bones,
I know we were never on the best of terms, but I find myself in quite some predicament. If you receive this I will no longer be in this world. I cannot say what led to my death or who is responsible; I fear I have made quite a lot of enemies in the course of my long life. Enclosed in this package you will find a collection of material regarding Dumbledore and Voldemort. Yes, I fear the Dark Lord is still alive and plotting his return. The esteemed Headmaster knows this and is making plans of his own, dangerous plans that involve young Harry Potter to an unreasonable degree. Included here you will find all the proof I was able to gather. Please read and form your own opinion. If this is not public knowledge by the time of my death or disappearance I know I will have failed in my plans. The rest of my family knows nothing of this, but my old friend Alan MacDougal received the same information.
Why did I sent this to you do you ask? The answer is simple: While we never saw eye-to-eye on many issues I always respected you and your independence. You are steel in a world of fools. I trust in you to do what is best for our world.
With best regards
Abraxas Malfoy
Her interest piqued, Amelia began reading through the material, paying no heed to the late hour. A few minutes later she began swearing viciously. When she finished in the early hours of morning her voice felt hoarse and she wanted to kill a certain Headmaster.
'Widespread use of mind magic, concealment of crimes and worse things; can I make this public or somehow get Harry away from him?'
No, she couldn't. Dumbledore had covered his tracks well. There was no absolute proof for most things, at least not enough that would stand up in court against a national hero like him. There were enough other people (like those Muggle relatives of Potter) who would take the fall. A master occlumens like Dumbledore was immune against all forms of truth serums and the like. What she now knew might be enough to bring Dumbledore down under optimal circumstances, but the Fudge administration would be falling with him because of all the dirt he had on people. He might even manage to recover his position. She couldn't risk that. If what Abraxas had written was true the Death Eaters that had gone free were already spinning their webs. It would only play into Voldemort's hands if the man already lurked in the shadows somewhere. She couldn't even warn Fudge. The man had some strange Voldemort-phobia and would go into denial. Unfortunately he was currently the best man for the job; everyone else who might have enough backing to become Minister would be worse. She herself didn't have enough political capital, not yet.
'I will have to step up Susan's occlumency training this summer and see what I can learn from her. She is one of Harry's friends, after all. Maybe I will be able to find something here at the Ministry. Probably not much, Dumbledore has too many people there. Idiots like Arthur Weasley would do nearly anything if the Headmaster asked, no matter the legality.'
Honestly, what was the man thinking? One of the latest information included had been that Ginevra Weasley had been possessed by a Dark object… and that Arthur didn't think it necessary to report that or get her treatment. If she had been able to she would have fired Weasley as soon as she came into office, but he had too much backing by Dumbledore's crowd and the hassle wasn't really worth it. At least he couldn't do much damage in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. The only thing that had come out of Hogwarts was that Gilderoy Lockhart and Harry Potter had solved the problem of the Chamber of Secrets, but Lockhart had lost all his memories due to reasons unknown. She smelled a rat, but sadly she didn't have the backing to investigate against Dumbledore's wishes.
'What to do, what to do?'
It might be best if she fled Britain with Susan… but she couldn't bring herself to do that. She felt a responsibility for their society. Amelia wondered why Abraxas didn't come to her earlier; together they might have been able to do something. Then again, before her change of heart after her two brothers and their families died in the war she had been one of those who looked up to Dumbledore. The Bones family had been firmly in Dumbledore's camp in the last war… and it had cost them dearly. Now only she and her niece were left.
Heck, even now her department was probably full of people who would go running to the Headmaster as soon as they learned anything. It was only relatively recently that she had recognized the scale of the problem and it frightened her. Those people didn't support Dumbledore because he paid them, but because they thought it was the right thing to do. Even confronted with proof of crimes people might simply go into denial. Dumbledore's cult of personality was scary. Abraxas might have thought it too dangerous to contact her if he saw any chance to do things on his own and from what it looked like he had planned on fleeing the country, not reforming it. One word in the wrong ears could bring everything crashing down. It would probably require a year-long smear campaign to even scratch the public image of the Headmaster.
'I don't have enough proof and I don't know who I can trust. The only thing I can do is making contact with Lord MacDougal, keep my eyes open and make preparations while I wait for an opportunity.'
An unusually warm breeze blew over the Black Lake, causing Daphne's hair to flutter. The girl adjusted her grip on her broom slightly to compensate for the wind. It was a beautiful day in May, providing the group with excellent flying weather.
Draco (who seemed to have recovered from the loss of his grandfather) was heading the small group, closely followed by Stephen and the freshly un-petrified Kevin. The two girls were lagging a bit behind, flying somewhat more sedately. Daphne wasn't a passionate flyer like Draco or all the Quidditch fanatics, but she too enjoyed the occasional jaunt. For once Morag had parted with her books; apparently steering a broom was one of the very few activities the red-headed girl couldn't perform with a piece of literature in her hands.
After a few minutes of flying the group arrived at their planned destination; a mountain meadow dotted with flowers with a spectacular view of the Black Lake. Hogwarts was out of sight behind a mountain, though. Still, the spot technically still was on the school grounds (Morag had looked it up) and therefore they were allowed to visit it without specifically asking anyone of the staff. As second year students they were allowed the use of their brooms at any time outside of classes.
"I still can't believe I missed half the school year. I'm really glad Headmaster Dumbledore exempted me and the other victims from taking the exams." Kevin remarked after a while. Suddenly he seemed to realize something. "What about my parents? Didn't they become worried when I didn't write them?"
Daphne and the others could only shrug. She hadn't thought about that. Draco looked decidedly uncomfortable, though. "I don't think they actually know something happened to you, Kevin." he said slowly.
"What?!"
"I'm not completely sure, but it involves the Statute of Secrecy. The obliviators modify the memories of muggles who saw something magical. There have to be some measures in place that prevent the parents or siblings of muggleborns to reveal something about our world. I think it very likely that they or another department is responsible for handling such cases and they did prevent your parents from realizing something was wrong. Maybe it was even someone from the school staff. Morag, do you know something about the legal situation?"
Morag shrugged. "Sorry, I'm not really interested in law books. The Hogwarts Library doesn't have a lot of them anyway."
"That's unfortunate. I'm not really familiar with the Ministry policies regarding muggleborns and their muggle relatives. I wouldn't bring the petrification up with your parents if I were you; that could lead to all sorts of trouble. By the way, Kevin, did they actually give you a choice when you received your Hogwarts letter?" Draco asked.
Kevin frowned as he tried to remember. "No, I don't think so. Professor McGonagall was the one who visited us. She just seemed to assume my parents would agree. I mean, magic is really cool."
"I don't think you actually ever had a choice. They would have compelled your parents to agree." Stephen chimed in. "I remember my mother ranting about something called the 'no child left behind'-policy. They don't allow magical children to go without an education. I wonder what happens when Hogwarts expels you."
Kevin looked visibly disturbed. "How can they do that?"
Draco sighed. "Because it's very, very easy for wizards to mentally manipulate muggles. For a compulsion or memory modification spell to affect a wizard it needs either enormous skill or a lot of power behind it, enough that most wizards can't really do that to each other. A muggle on the other hand? Absolutely everyone who can use a wand and knows the right spells can do that. Most of the more effective ones were developed at the end of the 17th century. Just think of muggle repelling charms. They are a standard feature of every magical dwelling."
What followed was an animated discussion about what probably happened to Kevin's parents and what could be done about it, but none of them had any ideas.
Then the blond Malfoy held up a hand, interrupting the chatter. "There is another reason I wanted to come here today. I have things to tell you that I don't want anyone to overhear. Before his murder Grandfather told me some things. I don't know everything, but he thought about leaving the country. Things will probably get bad in the next years."
"How bad?" Stephen asked.
"Another wizarding war bad." Draco replied bleakly. "Grandfather didn't tell me why, but he thought either You-know-who would return or another Dark Lord would rise. In his opinion there won't be much resistance. Our country is still too damaged from the last war and the ground for an easy takeover is being laid by certain people."
Daphne suddenly felt very cold despite the warm weather. She didn't harbor the illusion that she was some sort of political genius – she knew she wasn't, not at thirteen years of age – but she had grown up in a politically connected pureblood household. Thanks to that she knew at least the general picture: who was important, who was openly allied with whom and what the political views of certain people were. Now that she thought about the matter she had to agree with Draco.
"Draco is right." Daphne said. "Families like mine that were neutral in the last war are entering alliances with those families who supported or are rumored to have supported You-know-who. You-know-who's allies took a beating, but the people who opposed him are worse off. Most of the people in the Ministry who took a stand didn't make it through the war alive. There won't be any effective opposition."
"What about Dumbledore?" Stephen asked. Daphne knew that while he was a pureblood his family wasn't important in a political sense. They were involved in business, but nothing more. He wouldn't have any in-depth knowledge.
"Dumbledore is not that well-liked among the neutral families." Morag offered her opinion. "He led the opposition against You-know-who, but my grand-uncle said it was safer to be fighting against him than for him and not because of anything special You-know-who's side did. He said if You-know-who didn't disappear when he did he would have won. The Ministry won despite of Dumbledore, not because of him."
Stephen looked as if he wanted to object, but in the end he stayed silent. Outside of the old families Dumbledore was generally held in very high esteem. Daphne thought that was very strange. She certainly didn't see anything from Dumbledore that justified this mindless faith, but then again she had been born towards the end of the war and had no conscious memory of it. As a second year student she only saw the man at meals, but she knew he gave some lectures to the sixth and seventh years.
"So… what can we do about that?" Kevin asked.
Draco let out a short snort of laughter. "Absolutely nothing. We are children; we have no way of influencing politics." He grew serious. "Britain will be a very bad place to be for muggleborn in a few years. Kevin, you said your parents work in Spain?"
The boy nodded. "Not at the moment, but they wanted to leave Britain permanently after this summer."
"I think you should go with them and change school."
Kevin blinked. "You can do that? I asked Professor Flitwick and he said I couldn't change school, something about Spain's magical education system."
"Normally you can't." Morag answered. "They have a different policy regarding muggleborn there; or rather they don't have muggleborn. They don't introduce those with magic-less parents to our world; they simply handle it like other breaches of the Statute of Secrecy. Most children don't display more than half a dozen events of accidental magic if even that. Left without training the magic grows dormant. Anyway, to enter a school there you need a sponsor. Daphne, Draco, your families won't be willing to sponsor Kevin, won't they?"
Daphne shook her head. "You know my family's stance. Without you, Draco and Stephen around I wouldn't even be allowed to talk to Kevin more than absolutely necessary for classes."
Draco grimaced. "Grandfather was pretty liberal. He didn't really care about the blood status of my friends. My father and mother though… They haven't said anything yet, but I'm sure they won't let me stay friends with you, Kevin. They have ways of learning things and making sure I obey."
Morag sighed. "My family mostly doesn't care, but I think I can get my grand-uncle to sponsor your entry into the best Spanish school. You're a pretty good student, after all."
"Stop, stop, stop. You make it as if me leaving is a done deal. You're my friends; I don't want to leave you." Kevin shouted agitatedly.
Daphne exchanged glances with the others. Stephen looked bewildered, Morag resigned and Draco sad. "It would be the best decision for you. We don't want to force you, but if you wait until the signs are obvious it might be too late. Just look what happened already in our time at Hogwarts. Last year a troll got into the castle, this year you were petrified. What will happen next year? Dementors? Acromantula? Death Eaters? We can't leave because Hogwarts is still the school in Britain for upper society, but you can."
Morag put her hand on Kevin's shoulder. "Just think about it for now. During the summer I and some of my family will visit you to discuss your options."
The journey back to the castle was silent; the good cheer of the warm day had evaporated. Daphne used the opportunity to think about other things. Namely, how she could get a certain boy to notice her. She had begun noticing boys in that way months ago and she was being noticed by boys in return. Those silly Valentine dwarves had been proof enough. Unfortunately, the boy she was interested in didn't seem to be aware of her specific interest. Well, perhaps the already planned visits or the midsummer ball would offer an opportunity. Only half a month of school was left, after all. She could hardly wait until the holidays began.
Harry let out a sigh as the door slammed shut behind him. He hated the summer holidays. All his magical stuff had been locked away and he had no idea how he could complete his homework without the books. He wondered about his uncle's and aunt's newly hostile behavior. The last summer hadn't been exactly pleasant, but they had tolerated each other at the end. The Dursleys had even been impressed when Justin's parents picked him up. Unfortunately, it seemed as if their relationship had regressed again.
'I will have to find an opportunity to pick the lock on the cupboard and get my books and writing utensils.'
He sighed again. This year he wouldn't be able to spend part of the summer with Justin; his parents had taken him on a world tour and he wouldn't be back until a few days before Hogwarts started again. Pure and simple, his life sucked.
Draco's face was bright red when he emerged from the meditation trance. The memories he had just viewed had been labeled 'Do not watch until puberty' with very good reason. He would never be able to look at girls in the same way as before. Grandfather and his parents had made sure he was familiar with all the relevant information in a theoretical sense, but watching (and feeling!) the memories of his other self was a different beast entirely.
Practically all muggleborns assumed the morals of the wizarding world were Victorian (not that the public image matched the reality anyway). That wasn't completely false, but it wasn't really right either. The muggle world had certainly influenced things when some fad caught on or when a muggle-loving administration came into power, but by and large the worlds had developed differently since the wizards went into hiding in the late 17th century. Most importantly, sexual morality had been much less stringent in the wizarding world for most of the time. Only very recently had the muggles outstripped the wizards again in that regard. For all the emphasis on blood and family no one especially cared about a person's sexual preferences or what they did behind closed doors. Means of birth control were easily available as were ways of checking a child's paternity. Of course, there existed ways around that, but that wasn't the point.
'I didn't even know some of those positions were possible.'
Slowly getting his blush under control, Draco carefully filed the newly unlocked memories away. There was a lot of stuff aside from adult things, some quite vile. In fact, Draco would have been happier not knowing about some things. It seemed the other Draco had stuffed everything that might be remotely helpful into those memories in addition to some really, really disturbing information about the future and other things. If he had seen some of those memories as a young child it would probably have traumatized him deeply. Now it was merely unpleasant. He so didn't want to know about the exact way to harvest a person's life force while murdering them to use it as fuel for ritual magic.
Finally he was finished sorting through the newly available stuff and fell back on his bed. It was the middle of the night and he probably should get some sleep, but there were still memories to unlock. Originally he had wanted to do that during the school year, but with all the basilisk trouble and the death of his grandfather he had never found the peace of mind necessary for the task. Now, a few days after arriving home, he had finally reached the necessary calm. Ironically his new insights were promptly threatening to take it away again.
Draco had been aware he was good-looking and that girls had begun noticing him. The many Valentine messages he had received were pretty much a dead-giveaway. He had been partially aware of his own awakening interest, but there had always been more important matters on his mind. What didn't really register until he viewed his memories in light of his new experiences was how many girls sent him glances… and that his friend Daphne was among them.
The possibility had honestly never entered Draco's mind. He had seen her as one of his closest friends, but nothing more. The speculation by his peers (and the adults since last midsummer ball) had just been that. Now though it seemed Daphne saw him as more than purely as a friend. Without his new insights he would have missed that completely.
'At least my other self gave me a lot of tips on what to do and what not. Hopefully I can get through my teenage years without making a complete idiot out of myself now.'
Well, it wasn't as if he minded. He liked Daphne and she was very pretty. At some point he had planned to start dating anyway. He could only hope his father would refrain from a betrothal, not that such a thing had deterred his other self who had been betrothed to Pansy Parkinson for a few years. It was pretty clear to him that it was unlikely his first relationship would last forever, but he would wait and see how it developed. The other Draco didn't truly love anyone and had made no recommendations in that regard aside from avoiding a marriage to Astoria Greengrass, Daphne's younger sister who would start Hogwarts next term.
Although, his other self had included a not entirely serious list of things he should do if he got the opportunity. 'Get into Daphne Greengrass' pants' had been near the top of the list, right there with 'do it with the Patil twins'. It seemed the other Daphne had always given his other self the cold shoulder. Draco found that very funny.
'Enough of that. Only one more package of memories to go.'
Once again entering a trance, Draco began to decipher the last of the memories his other self had sent him. Suddenly and without warning he found himself in the parlor of the manor. He had almost forgotten it, but this was exactly what had happened seven years ago when his older self visited him.
"Hello Draco."
And there he was. The decrepit older version of Draco was sitting in his grandfather's armchair.
"If you're viewing this you have exhausted all I sent you. I hope it will make enough of a difference for your future. Grandfather should be dead by now; you should be around thirteen or fourteen."
"Actually, I turned thirteen just two weeks ago and Grandfather would still be alive if he hadn't been murdered." Draco remarked; not that his older self could hear him.
"I held one thing back that would have been able to change things greatly: The location of Peter Pettigrew."
That caused Draco to narrow his eyes. He had already known that Sirius was innocent, but his family had already done everything possible to get him out of jail or retried without result. Pettigrew had been the traitor who gave the Potter's location to Voldemort. The man was a rat animagus and in hiding in his animal form somewhere. Draco had assumed his older self had been unable to give him an exact location. Finding a single rat without any more clues was pretty much impossible, but presenting Pettigrew might have been the only option with any hope of success.
"There is a very good reason for this. I don't doubt our grandfather could have freed Sirius Black with Pettigrew at hand and that was something I couldn't allow." The memory of the old man sighed. "You see, Sirius is a complete idiot. Firstly, after Voldemort killed the Potters he was the first one at the scene. Instead of making sure Harry was safe he followed his thirst for revenge and handed him over to Hagrid, a man who can't use most magic. The magic resistance of a half-giant is useless against the killing curse. Even after all that happened to him and Harry he trusted Dumbledore completely, the man responsible for Harry's atrocious upbringing and who didn't lift a finger to truly help Sirius in any legal way. He fled Britain at the end of my third year. What he should have done is taking Harry with him. Then in my fourth year the Triwizard tournament happened and once again he did nothing effective, like suggesting to Harry he should simply give up on the tasks after a token effort. As soon as it was clear that Voldemort had been reborn he should have taken Harry and fled, but instead he let himself be roped in for a new version of Dumbledore's useless Order of the Phoenix. The advice he gave Harry was often counterproductive." The old Draco looked disgusted. "Sirius is unfortunately one of Dumbledore's true believers. I don't know if the old fool used mind-magic on him, but from what I saw of my past it wasn't necessary. Sirius hates most of his family and the old ways. He would never have worked with Grandfather or one of the other Blacks if he had been acquitted, bringing him further under Dumbledore's influence. I hope by the time you hear this Grandfather managed to somehow gain custody of Harry, but I can't rely on that. You will have to formulate your own strategy to deal with the man."
For a moment the older Draco fell silent. Then he looked directly at the real Draco.
"You are probably pretty angry now that I didn't allow this knowledge to come to you or tell you where Pettigrew is. Sirius is family, after all. This is understandable." The old man sighed again. "There is another reason for this secrecy. I didn't want you to have to make the decision of deliberately keeping an innocent man in jail. You will have to make life-and-death decisions in the future and kill people with your own wand. I tried to spare you from this as long as I could. Please forgive an old man this sentimentality for innocence long gone." He smiled sadly. "I won't speak to you again. Goodbye, Draco."
From one moment to another the vision faded and Draco was again sitting on his bed, breathing heavily. He was indeed very angry, but he understood. In all likelihood he would have freed Sirius if he had known. A free Sirius would have doomed all schemes to gain custody of Harry and it was virtually certain the man would have simply allowed Dumbledore to do as he liked. Granted, it hadn't worked anyway, but his older self couldn't have known that. Some part of Draco was glad that he didn't have to make that decision. His grandfather had spoken often of the weight of such and similar things. Well, it wasn't as if he could do anything about that now.
With a sigh he mentally turned towards the rest of the information that had now become unlocked. There was a lot of stuff, most of it highly dangerous magical knowledge that was mostly beyond his current level of understanding. Even a tiny hint of that would have him obliviated or imprisoned for life in the Department of Mysteries. Other information (some of which was extremely horrifying) would only become relevant in a few decades and was dependant on him succeeding in saving Harry from Dumbledore's clutches and eliminating both the old fool and Tom Riddle. For now he locked it deliberately away in a corner of his mind. It wasn't useful at the moment and he could do without the nightmares.
Sleep didn't come easy that night and he woke again at an early hour. Not wanting to remain in bed, Draco got up and ready for the day. A few minutes later he was sitting down at the breakfast table. Apparently the elves had noticed him leaving his rooms and started preparing the meal. A moment later one of the elves appeared, handing him today's Daily Prophet.
"Thank you, Dobby."
"Young master is too gracious." The elf gave him a bow before he left the room. All the elves loved Draco and Aquila. For a moment Draco considered the differences t o the other Dobby he knew about. That one had been so unhinged by years of abuse that he actively worked against the family and tried to break their bond; something practically unthinkable for house elves. In contrast, his Dobby was a little strange (for a house elf) from time to time but unquestioningly loyal to him and Aquila.
Sometimes he wondered who the elves would obey if push came to shove. They were bound to the Malfoy family as a whole; meaning they generally accepted the head of the family as highest authority. While his grandfather had been alive it had been clear, but now it was an open question. Legally Lucius was head of the family, but Draco was the one bound to the heart stone. On the other hand the elf bond was independent of that and he was still rather young. Draco was pretty certain the elves disliked his father rather strongly. They could probably choose a side if it came to a conflict, but that wasn't anything he wanted to test anytime soon.
Shaking these thoughts off, Draco started to read the newspaper. The first thing to catch his attention was an article about the Weasleys with a picture of the whole family.
MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE
Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw. A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet, "We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank." The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend.
Draco made a thoughtful face. 'I wonder if that was rigged. Perhaps because of the basilisk mess? I hope Ginny will enjoy the vacation.'
For a moment Draco's gaze paused on the Weasel's pet rat that was clearly visible in the picture. Was it possible that this was Pettigrew?
'Unlikely. What are the chances for something like that? Arthur and his wife would have to be complete morons not to thoroughly test a stray rat before they take it in as a pet. It could carry some disease, after all. I think being an animagus would show up on quite a number of standard tests they do at pet shops. Besides, a normal rat lives only a few years. The Weasleys would surely notice if this rat simply continued living.'
Turning over the page, Draco soon forgot about the matter. There were always other news to catch his interest.
Author's notes: Thanks for all the reviews.
Free time to write and inspiration is rather scarce at the moment, unfortunately, meaning updates will continue at a rather slow pace.
Fudge isn't a complete moron here, he's actually rather competent in his comfort zone. Likewise, Amelia Bones isn't the be-all and end-all paragon of good.
No Tonks in the Order of the Phoenix in my story! I can't imagine any government liking having people from such a vigilante group among them. Did the Order actually do anything effective against Voldemort? Guarding the prophecy and Harry's escape from Privet Drive were both incredibly moronic plans and resulted both in unnecessary losses.
I'm a bit sorry about my rather negative portrayal of Sirius in this chapter, but beginning in the night of the Potter's death he failed Harry pretty badly. There might have still been Death Eaters about and leaving Hagrid alone to defend Harry isn't a good decision, all other considerations aside. Well, perhaps Draco will beat some sense into Sirius at a later date; I'm not entirely decided.
A word on the relationships: As I stated in the first chapter of this story most of the cast will go through multiple relationships and experiment a bit in the course of the story. That means it's unlikely their first girlfriend/boyfriend will be the one they stay with. They are teenagers, after all.
So long.