Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time

Chapter 13

Sirius Black stared at the picture in the Daily Prophet he had gotten. It couldn't be and yet it was. The rat was alive. The damned traitor was ALIVE. He had thought he had blown himself up (while blaming Sirius for the damage and deaths in the process), but obviously he had been mistaken. The rat had simply faked his death and hidden. Now he was playing the pet for that boy.

'Weasley… Hogwarts…'

Slowly a plan to escape took shape in Sirius' mind. He would kill the rat even if that was the last thing he ever did.

Daphne gave Draco a beaming smile before they separated and returned to their families. The children's part of the ball was winding down now that the last dance had ended. She knew performing the rather complicated formal dances had been tiring, but her elation mostly kept her from feeling the exhaustion. This year's midsummer ball was a full success in her book. Suffice to say, her relatively daring décolleté dress robe (that was still safely inside the confines of propriety) showing off her developing assets had fulfilled its intended purpose. Draco most definitely noticed her now. He had kept his eyes mostly on her face as proper decorum dictated in such a public setting, but his interest had been clearly recognizable for someone like her who knew him well. Well, there had been a lot of eyes she had drawn, but that was more or less incidental.

"Well done, Daphne." her grandmother Eleanor greeted her. She didn't need to elaborate the point further; both of them were well aware Daphne had achieved everything she had set out to do.

Daphne grinned and inclined her head before sitting down, careful not to crinkle her dress. After a bit of recovery she would seek out Draco and the others while the adults had their fun, but for now she needed a breather.

Looking around, she spotted her little sister Astoria talking with some girls her age; Miranda Macmillan, Fiona Smith and Caroline Avery if she wasn't mistaken. The ball had been her little sister's debut in society now that she was eleven years of age. From what Daphne had been able to observe she had comported herself well, but her mother still kept a watchful eye on her from some distance away.

Neville Longbottom and Susan Bones were notably absent… again. Judging from her Hogwarts impression of the boy that was probably still wise. Neville was clumsy, forgetful and rather shy. He had gotten markedly better over the last two years, but Daphne supposed his grandmother didn't want to take the risk just yet. Augusta Longbottom was a demanding, stern woman who didn't forgive even the slightest failure. The (unfounded) rumors that her grandson had been a squib had probably rankled her enormously. Shyness and awkwardness in social situations was probably the reason for Susan's absence, too.

Daphne's musings were interrupted when her grandmother leant over and whispered in a conspiratorial tone. "Tell me, did Draco invite you to a tête-à-tête in the moonlight? I will cover for you if you want. It is a very romantic night; just the right time for a first kiss and maybe a little more…"

The blond girl blushed. "Grandmother, it's far too early to talk about something like that. He just noticed me as more than a friend."

"Of course, of course. We don't want to scare away your young man, don't we? Boys can be so skittish at this age. Better not to press the issue unduly." The elderly woman whispered in a sagely tone before winking. "Trust me, before long it will be hard to separate him from you, dear. He didn't look like he will put up much of a resistance."

Daphne didn't answer, instead drinking a sip of water and trying to control her blush. Ever after she had enlisted the help of her mother and grandmother to get Draco's attention her entire family not so subtly hinted at more. The pressure for her to secure a good match was still low all things considered, but it was there. At least her grandmother always maintained a slightly humorous tone that told Daphne she was doing it more to tease than to pressure her. Unfortunately the same couldn't be said of her mother. If she got her way Daphne and Draco would be formally betrothed at the next opportunity, a development Daphne tried to avoid for now.

She was completely aware that she probably would be betrothed to somebody before she reached her majority. It wasn't certain she would actually marry that person; betrothal agreements got broken all the time when the political or monetary balance shifted and the families called it off in favor for a more promising match (or one of the 'happy' betrothed decided to go against their family; each new scandal was eagerly awaited and gossiped about for months). They were little more than declarations of intent, at least at their age. Hogwarts was something of a sanctuary, too; no one batted an eye when people dated who they wanted there despite an existing betrothal, within reasonable limits of course. Since the Malfoys were one of the richest and most well-connected families obtaining a betrothal with Draco (and his sister Aquila to a lesser degree) was much sought after, but Draco's grandfather had always rejected such advances. Now that Draco's father had taken over it was possible that would change.

Still, Daphne hoped to get closer to him before family politics got in the way. Sometimes a betrothal led to the demise of an otherwise promising relationship. Draco was a close friend and she genuinely liked him. If their families took that as incentive for an arrangement there was nothing she could do about it. Besides, it was better to make a move early before their families chose someone else for them or if another ambitious girl made an attempt to gain Draco's affections. There were far worse people she could end up betrothed to.

Ginny sighed exasperatedly while she watched the chaos in the Burrow from her seat in the living room. They were leaving for Egypt early tomorrow and her family still had not finished packing (excepting her, of course). The usual pre-Hogwarts excitement had nothing on this.

"Mum, where did you put my trunk?" "It's still in the attic, George." "I'm Fred." "Sorry, dear. Arthur, what are you doing?" "I can't fit our clothes into the trunk." "Muuum, I don't want to wear that." "Mollywobbles, we won't be needing that. I'm sure they have quite tasty food in Egypt."

On and on it went. After a moment of listening Ginny shook her head, got up and left the house, seeking a bit of peace and quiet. The hubbub was incredible, especially because they would leave Britain for a month. One and a half year ago they had visited Charlie in Romania, but that had been only her and her parents. There had never been enough money for a complete family vacation outside Britain, but the prize her father had won in the Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw made it possible. Still, her family was just so unorganized.

Sitting down at the edge of the pond, Ginny removed a letter from Aquila from her clothes. The Malfoy house elf Dobby had delivered it the day before last without any other member of her family noticing. She had read it immediately, of course, but she simply couldn't get enough.

Dear Ginny,

The Ministry's midsummer ball was simply marvelous. I wish you could have been here, but as things are me describing everything will have to do. It started…

A detailed description of the ball followed. The building, who had attended, what clothes people wore, everything was there. After reading it for the third time Ginny sighed, folded the parchment up and hid it in her clothes again. She would have to dispose of it later.

Another sigh escaped her. She wished she could have been there, but that world was closed to her… for now.

'Well, it isn't as if I have anything to wear to such an occasion anyway.'

Unfortunately her family was rather poor. It wasn't as if their father earned little; his job was actually quite well-paying. No, the problem was that neither of her parents could handle money properly. She had secretly taken a look at the books her parents used to keep track of their expenses (if you could call that chaos keeping track) and had been appalled. They never bought something expensive, true, but money flowed away here and there and everywhere. In the past she hadn't really noticed, but she had learned much in the last two years from the books Aquila had sent her and from personal contact at Hogwarts. The cursed diary had put a dent into things, but ever since Draco's grandfather had freed her from its influence she had renewed her friendship with Aquila. Ginny was convinced that even with her admittedly basic grasp of estate management she could do much better than her parents. It was only a question of careful planning and self-restraint.

Ginny let out an unladylike snort. 'Fat chance Mum or Dad would take my advice. They dote on me, but they never listen.'

A prime example was the aftermath of the diary fiasco. She knew she didn't need to see a professional mind healer thanks to Aquila's grandfather, but her parents didn't know that. They just took Dumbledore's word that she would be fine. Just to test things Ginny had hinted that she would like to be examined at St. Mungo's, but her parents just assured her that everything was okay. It was really disheartening.

'Perhaps I can speak with Bill or Charlie about it.'

Augusta Longbottom moved swiftly through the hallways of Longbottom Manor. Where had her grandson and the girl gotten to? It was almost time for the afternoon tea.

Suddenly she heard voices and slowed her brisk walk. Apparently the children were in the memorial room. That was rather unusual.

"Interesting. Try the next one, Neville."

"That wand belonged to my great-uncle Harfang."

Augusta frowned slightly. There wasn't anything improper about Neville showing Hermione the wands of his forbearers, but normally that took only place when a couple was already in a relationship. The children were still rather young for that.

Slowing her step, Augusta approached the room carefully. She wanted to see what the children were doing. Just when she opened the door a crack Neville uttered an incantation, causing her to freeze. "Avifors!"

With a burst of electric blue light some small object changed into a bird. It flew a few times around the room before it landed and turned back into a paperweight. Augusta recognized the spell; it was taught in first year transfiguration class and revised in second year. She didn't care about that absurd Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery (in fact, she had expressly encouraged the children to use magic), but she did care that the children used the old wands for their games. It was disrespectful.

She was about to enter the room when she remembered something else. That spell was tested in the practical part of the end of year exams and Neville had done rather poorly there. Now though the spell had been performed flawlessly. Perhaps she should watch a few moments longer.

Her grandson had a completely perplexed expression on his face when he looked from the paperweight to the wand in his hand. "It's so easy, far better than any of the others."

Hermione had some sort of list in her hand. "Okay, that's a first. How about you try a few more spells?"

Augusta watched in amazement as her grandson performed several spells successfully. She knew he had always problems with magic, but now none of those difficulties seemed to exist any longer. Judging from Neville's reaction he hadn't expected this either.

Finally she shook herself out of her stupor and retreated silently and without the children noticing. This was surprising and unsettling. Never in a thousand years would she have expected that the wand of her son was the cause of her grandson's troubles. Frank's wand had never been difficult to use for anyone else; Augusta knew several of her son's auror colleagues had used it in an emergency and she herself could use it almost as easily as her own wand as could her cousin-in-law Enid and her husband Algie. It was one of the reasons she had given it to Neville. Her daughter-in-law Alice's wand was far more difficult to use; Neville hadn't been able to produce any effect with it at all. She had let Neville try some of the other wands of deceased relatives with similar results before they settled on one; Frank's wand had actually been the best match.

In contrast, Harfang's wand had always been virtually unusable by anyone else. The younger brother of her husband had been an exceptionally powerful wizard before he met his untimely end in a drunken duel. She had never considered letting Neville try his wand. Maybe she had made a mistake.

Draco minutely adjusted the flame beneath the big gold cauldron until he was satisfied. Keeping the temperature exactly right was important. A glance at the clear liquid inside showed him that the substance was simmering gently, rainbow-colored lights from the mirrors and prisms overhead permeating it. The runic circle around the cauldron was flawless and completely intact; the weather would stay sunny for the next few days. Everything seemed to be working as it should. Now he had only to wait a week or two to reap the rewards of his latest project.

The tinkling of a bell informed him that someone had entered the building serving as a laboratory, causing him to sigh. There wasn't anything incriminating here, but he would prefer if no one saw what he was doing. During the summer holidays he had a good amount of free time and his parents were absent often enough that he could make productive use of that time even without his grandfather there to cover for him.

He didn't hear any footsteps, but suddenly the voice of his sister reached his ears. "Here you are, Draco. I searched all over the manor for you."

Draco didn't give a start; by now he was used to his sister's ability to move almost completely noiselessly when she wanted. "Good morning Aquila, to what do I owe the peerless pleasure of your presence?"

"I'm bored. Entertain me."

Draco suppressed a sigh. He liked his sister; he really did, but sometimes she got on his nerves. "As you can see I'm a bit busy right now. I fear you're on your own. Didn't you invite the Carrow twins for this afternoon?"

Aquila dismissed his words with a wave of her hand. "That is later, this is now." She peered curiously at the arrangement. "What exactly are you doing here anyway?"

"I'm making candy."

That answer threw his sister for a loop. She gaped at him for a few moments before catching herself. An expression of disbelief appeared on her face. "You are making… candy?"

"Yes."

Aquila shook her head. "Let me be more precise. You… " She pointed at him. "… are making candy…" Aquila's pointing hand move to the big cauldron. "… in a big golden cauldron surrounded by some sort of runic circle and other knickknacks."

Draco nodded earnestly. "Yes. It's a special recipe. Here, try one. I prepared a small test run a few days ago. Be careful not to bite on them; they are very hard."

Taking a piece out of a bag on the table, he handed his sister the rainbow-colored sweet. Aquila examined the small piece of candy warily. It looked like a cross between rock candy and a gobstopper, being roughly spherical and translucent. The only indication of its magical origin was a slight, almost unnoticeable luminescence.

Apparently satisfied with her examination, Aquila popped the piece of candy into her mouth. After a few moments of sucking she began smiling. "This is really good candy."

"I should hope so. As you can see it isn't easy to make. I found the recipe in one of the old potion journals of Great-Aunt Priscilla."

Aquila narrowed her eyes. "I hope you didn't simply decide to try it out. You know what Mother says about using unknown potions, rituals and spells."

Draco harrumphed haughtily. "Of course not. I checked it against several sources in the library before I began making it. The complete recipe wasn't there, of course, but the fundamental principles are sound. I fed a few pieces of the finished candy to some mice before I ate one myself."

His sister looked a little disappointed when she couldn't scold him. "Well, I suppose that's okay then." She sat down on one of the chairs, watching as Draco checked some of the enchanted mirrors and prisms that caught the sunlight.

After a minute Aquila apparently grew bored again. "You know, brother mine, I couldn't help but notice that you paid far more attention to Daphne than usual. Is there something between you? Maybe even a teeny tiny little kiss when you disappeared during the ball?"

He turned around and rolled his eyes. "Yes, I like Daphne. No, we haven't yet kissed, but I certainly wouldn't object."

Aquila pouted. "Teasing you is no fun. You are supposed to act embarrassed when I bring up the girl you like."

"I'm so sorry to spoil your amusement." Draco said with obviously faked sincerity before he turned back to the mirrors.

"Fine, be that way."

Draco sighed. "I'm just busy, sister. We can do something together as soon as I finish. I'll come and find you then."

"Okay. Don't forget it; you promised." Aquila chirped before she skipped out of the room.

The blond boy breathed a sigh of relief. Manipulating the enchantment so that the mirrors would follow the sun was a bit tricky. In truth this was his first foray into the realm of alchemy. His older counterpart had sent back a lot of knowledge, but Draco preferred to take it slow. There was always the danger that something had been damaged or lost during the transfer. He could do without a mistake with potential catastrophic consequences. With this recipe there couldn't really go anything wrong. If he made a mistake he would end up either with a cauldron full of crystallized sugar, a harmless liquid or something like that. There was no chance for anything more dangerous to happen than the cauldron boiling over.

Alchemy was the study of the elements and the analysis and transmutation of substances. Hogwarts had a class for sixth and seventh years taught by Dumbledore himself as an extension of Potions and Transfiguration class, but it was a very wide and complicated field with very few true practitioners left. Dumbledore had studied under Nicholas Flamel for a while without achieving much beyond intermediary skills. The older Draco had learned a lot about it in his later years. Well, to be precise his counterpart had snatched up all knowledge of all fields he could get like a madman. Most of it had been dug out from ruins or gathered by scrying the past. There weren't many secrets you could keep from an extremely skilled and determined scryer, but Draco himself was decades away from such a skill level. With what he had in his head he had the potential to become an alchemist, but for now he lacked the practice and experience to create more than the most basic products.

What he was currently doing was binding part of the concept of a sunny summer day into physical form. Aside from providing him with a tasty treat (and it was really good candy) he had several reasons for that. Training and testing his abilities with a relatively simple project was one of them, but more importantly the end product would help build up a slight resistance against a dementor's aura. Draco knew that in the other timeline they had been posted around Hogwarts in third year for some Merlin-forsaken reason and wanted to be prepared if it happened again. The candies wouldn't be much use against the direct presence of a dementor, but the diluted area effect was another matter.

Draco grimaced in distaste. At some point in the future he would have to do something about the dementors. They were a catastrophe waiting to happen, but unfortunately there were few methods that could destroy them, none of them without risks.

'It shouldn't be long now until Sirius escapes Azkaban. I still wonder what exactly triggered the escape now; he had a decade to think of something.'

Turning his thoughts to happier matters, a slight smile appeared on his face. Tomorrow he would meet with Daphne again.

Amelia Bones watched intently as the mind healer conducted her examination of her niece Susan. The girl was currently sleeping and wouldn't remember the examination. It was better that way even if the girl had given her assent beforehand. Amelia dearly hoped that her worries were unfounded, but the late Lord Malfoy's letter had unsettled her. According to him Harry Potter had been subjected to mind-altering magic and it was very likely that her niece had been another victim, her being one of Harry's closest friends making her a logical target. Since Amelia had absolutely no talent in the mind arts (aside from the obligatory occlumency, of course) she had quietly approached Gunhilda Bonham, an old friend of hers who was one of the chief mind healers at St. Mungo's.

Finally Gunhilda finished with her work and the two women left the room to not disturb Susan. "There aren't any mind-affecting spells currently active on your niece, Amelia."

That was somewhat of a relief. Unfortunately Amelia immediately realized that wasn't the same thing as her niece not being subjected to any mind magic at all. "But?"

Gunhilda sighed. "I'm not sure. Did Susan ever tell you of what happened at the end of her first year?"

"Not in detail. There was something about her and her friends keeping something safe, but no specifics." In all honesty Amelia had not probed much. She didn't talk much with Susan in general; the Abbots were probably more parents to Susan than her. Her career kept her away most of the day. Additionally, she was just bad with children. Aside from teaching Susan the things she had to know as heiress of House Bones Amelia never knew what to do with her. She had never wanted children and was ill-suited to the job.

"Then I will have to tell you what happened, but that is for later. As I said, I found no active spells or the remnants of such. Still, there are… anomalies."

Amelia narrowed her eyes. "What anomalies? Please, be more specific."

Gunhilda shrugged helplessly. "I don't know if I can. It is more an overall impression than something definitive. Echoes of echoes, things that appear completely normal but are suspicious taken together."

"Give me an example."

"Did you know that Dumbledore explicitly warned the students at the Welcoming Feast in Susan's first year that a very painful death awaited them if they entered the third-floor corridor? There was a giant three-headed dog there, only protected by a simple door that could be opened with a first-year unlocking charm. It was only the first in a series of traps. Susan actually went there towards the end of the year in an effort to protect the philosopher's stone from a thief. She has been aware that someone was trying to steal it for several months."

By now Amelia was catching on. "And yet she didn't think it necessary to write me about it or ask for help. If not me than the Abbotts and they would have told me of something of this magnitude."

"Exactly. There are several instances where it would have been logical to write you or tell you about it after the fact. Every time Susan either didn't even think of it or rationalized a reason to keep it to herself. Children can be unreasonable from time to time, but over the course of two years?"

"Does that mean there was a compulsion on her?"

Gunhilda shook her head. "Not as far as I can tell, and that is the strange thing. There are no signs of any overt mind magic. Whatever caused that behavior was incredibly subtle. I would never have noticed if f I didn't know Susan relatively well and you told me your suspicions. You said Harry is Susan's friend, didn't you?" Seeing Amelia's nod, she continued. "And yet the thought of inviting him over never even crossed Susan's mind."

"What sort of magic could have caused that?"

Her old friend shrugged. "I have honestly no idea. Most of the experienced mind healers died in the St. Mungo attack of 1978. We are still pretty good at treating the more common mental illnesses and problems of the mind, but this is as esoteric as it can get. It will take me a lot of time to dig through our records, especially when no one else can be allowed to notice what I am doing. It's uncertain if I will find anything at all. Maybe my colleagues outside of Britain will be able to give me a pointer. You didn't tell me who you thought to be the perpetrator, but judging from what I found in Susan's mind I can make a pretty good guess."

Amelia nodded, her thoughts racing. Gunhilda had attended Durmstrang, not Hogwarts. The Durmstrang Headmaster at that time and Albus Dumbledore had a less than friendly relationship. Therefore she was one of the people who didn't place Dumbledore on a pedestal. It was one of the reasons Amelia trusted her with this.

"Would learning occlumency help against this? What are the long-term consequences?"

"I can't answer that, Amelia, not without knowing what exactly 'this' is." Seeing her expression, Gunhilda sighed. "I see you insist on an answer. Remember, this is basically speculation and conjecture. The spell must have to do something with the subconscious. My guess is that an average adult would be greatly resistant, if he knows and practices occlumency more so. Children? Not so much. They rarely listen to logic anyway. What is one more inexplicable urge to do something? It doesn't control the actions of a person; it just makes certain actions or feelings more likely or less likely. Using it in this fashion to successfully control a person requires incredible skill and even then it shouldn't be able to force that person to something she or he absolutely doesn't want. You remember the victim's of You-know-who's legilimency from the last war? That was a battering ram. This is a barely visible needle. There shouldn't be any damage to Susan's mind. As far as I can tell she was only dissuaded from speaking or writing about certain events at school and not bring Harry Potter to any adult's attention."

"Can we take it before the Wizengamot?"

Gunhilda actually laughed bitterly. "Amelia, we cannot even prove that something was done to Susan, far less who did it. If our suspicion is correct the man responsible can and will ruin us if he learns we are on to him." She sighed again. "I wish Abraxas Malfoy was still alive. He was one of the foremost experts on the field of mind magic in Britain even if he never worked as a healer."

Amelia felt icy fear touch her heart, but she showed no outward sign. Gunhilda didn't know that it was Abraxas who had provided her with information. If Dumbledore had learned that someone was poking around and felt threatened enough to make that person unable to probe further or speak up against him… No one would ever suspect him of employing Greyback. Her mood didn't improve when Gunhilda told her details of the last two years Susan had neglected to mention. It matched the information Abraxas had given her, but that had been mostly from an outside perspective.

Late in the night, after Gunhilda had left, Amelia sat thinking. Susan had apparently never realized it, but from Amelia's perspective it was clear that Harry's group (and Harry in particular) had been prodded into a specific direction several times. There were just too many convenient coincidences. From the looks of it Dumbledore considered Harry as a weapon against Voldemort and tried to throw the boy at him as often as he could while trying to form him into a 'hero'. According to Abraxas he had even provided for the abusive relatives to be there, just like a fairy tale. It wouldn't surprise Amelia if he had left Harry simply on their doorstep in the night.

'Why does he do that? What reason has he for that insane course of action?'

Amelia didn't know and neither had Abraxas. Voldemort being immortal was unwelcome news, but it wasn't a real problem, especially because he wasn't invulnerable. Get a dementor to kiss him; douse him with draught of the living dead, encase him in stone and dump him into the sea; cut off his limbs while keeping him alive; the possibilities for dealing with an immortal enemy were endless and that wasn't even getting into the more esoteric options. The difficulties consisted of defeating him and his followers in the first place and tracking him down, not keeping him dead. They just needed to know that he was immortal in the first place… and Dumbledore had kept that knowledge from them.

Amelia was pretty sure Dumbledore had not employed this mind-influencing on a large scale before Susan and Harry arrived at Hogwarts. Someone would have noticed like Abraxas had. His other actions at Hogwarts like the basilisk mess required more and more political capital to keep a lid on. Now that she thought about it his influence in the Ministry was slowly slipping although it was still massive. It just didn't fit with Dumbledore's usual modus operandi; the man almost never took risks. Or at least he personally didn't; he was perfectly content to let other people take risks for him.

'He is concentrating every resource he has on his 'Harry the Hero' project… and isn't that creating a fine mess.'

Normally she would have welcomed the waning of Dumbledore's influence; his mantra of forgiveness and second chances even for people who didn't deserve them had created so many additional problems for their country it wasn't funny. That wasn't even mentioning his other policies. The problem was that the people and families potentially on You-know-who's side were now moving again and spreading their influence in the Ministry and Wizengamot. There were a lot of people with views sympathetic to the Death Eaters' even if they had never actively fought for You-know-who.

Of the fifty-two Houses in existence in Magical Britain at the beginning of the century only thirty-one remained and the number would fall further in the foreseeable future.

Nott, Greengrass, Parkinson, Carrow, Avery, Yaxley, Applebee, Mallory, Van Burm, Partington and (after Abraxas' death) Malfoy had formed a power bloc that represented mostly reactionary and muggle-adverse policies. If You-know-who rose again most of them would support him in Amelia's opinion.

Smith, MacMillan, Longbottom, Matlock and McLaggen were aligned with Dumbledore.

Alexander, O'Flaherty, Ackerley, Higgs, Vane, Pyrites, Farley, MacDougal, Yates and Bones (she had cut her close relationship with Dumbledore after the war) would be considered neutral Houses, but they weren't a unified force.

House Potter had ceased to be a political factor with the death of Harry's grandparents; House Lestrange would be extinct once the last Lestranges died in Azkaban; House Black likewise after the death of the free Blacks a few years ago, although it was possible that House Malfoy would generate an offshoot that would grow into a new House Black since the blood connection was close enough. The Houses of Blishwick and Ollerton were in dire straits and held currently no Wizengamot seats.

Of course, there were additional families and individuals holding seats outnumbering the Houses, but those were usually aligned with one of the Houses, the Ministry bureaucracy or were independent, wealthy individuals. Dumbeldore's faction was grounded both in those independents and part of the Ministry aligned. People like Elphias Doge, Tiberius Ogden and Griselda Marchbanks made up the core of his support and would be impossible to sway without overwhelming, irrefutable evidence.

The current administration was supported mostly by the purely Ministry aligned families and individuals as well as the neutral families, but Dumbledore and Nott's coalition were involved as well. The coalition was slowly pushing Dumbledore's faction out and attracting formerly neutral families and Houses. Maintaining the balance of power between all those diverse forces and finding majorities for votes was… interesting work. In theory the Houses and the Ministry bureaucracy balanced each other, but it had been a persistent trend that the Ministry grew in power. The Houses still wielded much influence, though it was less than it once was.

'I can't formally move against Dumbledore, not now and with the evidence I have. He has still too many followers. For now I will have to wait and lull him into a sense of false security. I will have to talk with Lord MacDougal.'

People like Archibald Nott, Liam Greengrass or Lucius Malfoy were dangerous, but without a resurgent dark lord they generally could be reasoned and bargained with. Dumbledore's people… not so much. Not only were they generally convinced of the rightness of their cause, but they were ineffective. In retrospect it was clear Dumbledore's influence had been the single most contributing factor to the 'Light' side losing the first war against You-know-who. The man was a masterful manipulator and the greatest wizard in Britain, but as a general or political leader he was a catastrophe for their country.

Maybe Amelia couldn't be the parent Susan deserved, but no one messed with her family. Dumbledore had made an implacable enemy by using mind magic on her niece. One glorious day she would have the power to destroy the senile old fool… even if she had to make a deal with the devil to achieve that. It would be distasteful, but she knew which people she had to sway in the Ministry. Maybe she could entice some of Dumbledore's supporters in the Wizengamot and form a coalition from the remaining neutral Houses acting as a counterweight both to Nott's coalition and Dumbledore's followers. Taken together it might be enough. Before she had been unwilling to accept the price necessary for such an endeavor, but with You-know-who threatening to return and Dumbledore out of control she saw no other choice.

An ethereal chime signaling that someone was trying to floo her interrupted her dark thoughts.

'This can't be good. I left orders only to be disturbed in emergencies.' she thought while she hurried to the chamber with the only fireplace in the building connected to the floo network was situated.

The fire was burning green, a head sticking out of it. "Madam Bones! Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban!"

Harry looked away from Stanley Shunpike, conductor of the Knight Bus, and pointed uncertainly into a now empty dark gap between houses. "There was a big black thing. Like a dog, but massive."

Stanley's mouth had fallen slightly open. With a feeling of unease Harry noticed that his eyes had moved to the scar on Harry's forehead. Flattening his hair over his scar didn't help much, but he headed off the topic by questioning Stan about the Knight Bus. Apparently he had unwittingly summoned it by holding out his wand in a specific way. When he learned that the bus could go anywhere he felt relieved. He had to get away from his relatives.

Traveling with the Knight bus was a... unique experience, but at least it gave him time to order his thoughts. He just had to get away from his relatives. They were nastier than ever. Earlier this summer he had received a warning from the Office for the Improper Use of Magic when he lost his temper and unintentionally caused a vase to shatter. Now it had happened again when he blew up Aunt Marge after she insulted his parents; he wasn't sticking around for that. They would probably expel him from Hogwarts.

Suddenly he noticed the picture of a man on the newspaper Stanley was reading. "That man, he was on the muggle news."

Stanley turned to the front page and chuckled. "Sirius Black. Of course he was on the muggle news. You see, he broke out of Azkaban. He was there for murdering thirteen people in broad daylight, was a big supporter of You-know-who."

Harry listened raptly to Stan's explanations of the crimes of Sirius Black. Azkaban sounded like a really bad place to be. Finally the Knight Bus arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, the only destination he had been able to think of.

"Thanks." he said to the driver. Then he jumped down the steps and helped Stanley lower his trunk and Hedwig's cage onto the pavement.

"There you are, Harry." said a voice. Before Harry could turn he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up at the owner of the hand, he felt a bucketful of ice cascade into his stomach. He had walked right into Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself.

Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, was working in her home office when the chiming of the floo alarm disturbed the silence. Wondering who would disturb her after the normal working hours, she stood up and approached the fireplace. A familiar face greeted her from the flames.

"Good evening, Amelia. Is this about the hunt for Sirius Black?"

"Good evening, Dolores. No, I'm here for something different, a rather… sensitive matter. I have a proposal for you. May I come through to discuss things?"

Gears immediately began to grind in Dolores' mind. This was unusual, but the core of the matter was clear: There was a political power shift coming. Amelia Bones held considerable influence in the Ministry and was one of the supporting pillars of the Fudge administration, but she had kept a careful distance from Dolores' faction. It seemed this was about to change.

She smiled sweetly. "Of course, Amelia."

Author's notes: Thanks for all the reviews.