Returning to Privet Drive is an experience that's gotten worse with time. While the first eleven years of my life were far from pleasant, they were all I knew. After returning from my first year, things were fine for a short while, but that ended the moment the Dursleys learned that I wasn't able to hex them the way I'd been threatening. Then again, that was mostly Dobby's fault. I wonder what happened to him, come to think of it. I hadn't seen any hints of him since he tried to sic that bludger on me.

Regardless of the cause, the Dursleys were far worse after that. Locks on the door, bars on the window, food through a catflap. It was both unpleasant and degrading.

Last year, I spent a decent amount of the summer getting used to Tam's continued presence in my mind. While I've grown to tolerate and even appreciate her presence, getting used to having her in my mind was… an ordeal. Combined with the Dursleys' usual presence and Marge's unfortunate visit, and last summer wound up being… stressful.

The last year has been an enlightening one for me. Now, as I find myself looking around Privet Drive, I find myself struck by how… muggle everything is. Everything from the sticky asphalt to the polyester fabrics to the utter uniformity of the houses. I want nothing more than to leave as soon as possible.

I understand your desire to leave, but we really don't want to attract any scrutiny. While last year was extremely productive, we attracted a lot of attention. Lupin, Dumbledore, the Minister… We just need to lay low and focus on getting me a body.

'I know, Tam. I'm feeling more annoyed than ever that Dumbledore forced us back here, though.'

Yeah. It wasn't like we had any alternatives, though.

An owl swoops in through my window. I grab the letter it's carrying and watch as it flies off. One look at the handwriting has me rolling my eyes.

Lupin again?

'Yeah. I'm really getting tired of him.'

I grab my wand and burn the letter.

'Really, can't he see that I'm not interested in talking to him?'

Evidently not. I hope he sees sense soon.

If Lupin had at least apologised for being such a nuisance last year, I might be more inclined to hear him out. Instead he keeps apologising for "not being there for me" — which is the opposite of my problem. If anything, he was there too much.

He also keeps apologising for being reckless with his wolfsbane and attacking us, which…

Well, having to fight off a werewolf was certainly not something I would have liked to do. On the other hand, it really ingratiated me to the Minister, and it provided Pettigrew with a necessary opportunity to escape. It may not have been a series of events that I preferred, but I can't deny that the outcome was surprisingly favourable.

'Speaking of which, we'll have to go make that "donation" to Fudge sometime soon.'

Tam glances out the window. Ever since the "merge" we did, it's been easier for the two of us to juggle control. Tam's been continually worrying that there might be unintended side effects of that experience, but none have presented themselves thus far.

We should go tomorrow. Gringotts tends to view large transactions suspiciously after sunset.

'And we should probably get some dinner, too.'

I push my summer essay to the side and walk down to the kitchen. I wave my wand, summoning some fixing from the fridge and cabinets. As I'm cutting off several slices of meat from the chicken the Dursleys had for dinner last night, I muse on how much more convenient it is to prepare food with magic. It's faster, and I don't have to worry about utensils being cleaned.

Petunia walks in as I assemble all the ingredients with another spell, and she immediately pales at the sight.

"You… you can't do that here!" She says, her voice a harsh whisper.

"Do what here?" I ask as I pick up my sandwich and take a bite. "Eat? I'm sorry to say that I still have bodily needs, despite your attempts to starve me."

"You know what I mean! The… the… wand stuff! You're not allowed!"

"I've removed the spell from my wand that lets the Ministry track me." I say as I take another bite. I swallow and grin at her. "What I'm doing is illegal, but I have no way of getting caught."

"I'll-I'll tell them! You won't get away with doing that in my house!"

I hum thoughtfully for a moment. "No, you won't."

"Don't try me, boy!"

I laugh. "I'm not kidding. You won't do it. You know that this is the eighteenth time we've had this conversation? Every time you 'catch' me, you go through the same script, then I reach into your mind and pluck out the memory. I meant it when I said I can't be caught."

Her indignant look turns to fear. "I-"

I dive into her mind with minimal effort. Regular legilimency isn't well suited to erasing memories, but it's not like muggles are able to resist any invasions. I tear apart her memory of the last few minutes and pull out.

Petunia rubs her temples in pain, then looks at me. "Make sure you clean up when you're done."

I smile innocently. "Of course, Aunt Petunia."

She gives me a suspicious look and goes upstairs, leaving me free to finish my sandwich in peace.

You've taken really well to legilimency for someone who isn't a natural mind mage. I'm impressed.

'Well, I'm sure that having the soul of a natural mind mage in my body also helped.'

Amusement trickles from her.

Fair enough.

I finish eating my sandwich, clean the plate with a simple spell, and put it back in the cabinet.

'I understand why the underage magic laws exist — we don't want idiot kids ruining the Statute of Secrecy, but at the same time…'

It punishes those of us who have actual sense. I know, it's annoying that laws are based on the lowest common denominator, but it's not like we have to follow them. Any sufficiently intelligent person can remove the Trace from their wand.

'Yeah, I know. Though, to be fair, you did do that for me.'

You'd have managed it in another year or two, I'm sure. Even I didn't manage it until I was fifteen.

I stop outside the door to my bedroom and decide to enact some long overdue change. I flick my wand at each of the locks, causing them to fall off. I then levitate them inside the room and reattach them.

'There, now we can get some proper privacy.'

Smart thinking.

I lock the door with a flick of my wand and sit on my bed. I close my eyes and slowly enter a meditative trance.

'So, now that we're alone, do you mind showing me another memory?'

Well, it doesn't seem like there are any side effects of our little "merger", so it should be safe. Where were we?

'You'd just figured out how to make a horcrux.'

Right. I guess the next memory would be… The Chamber of Secrets. Again. I spent a lot of time there.

'I've gathered.'

I get the mental impression of Tam rolling her eyes before I find myself in the next memory.

The horcrux problem was pushed out of my mind once I returned to school. All of my effort went into my studies, at least for the first few months. Still, as winter turned to spring and my inevitable return to London drew closer, I realised that I needed to act soon. Sure, the Blitz may be over, but London is still far from safe.

The Chamber of Secrets is a sanctuary to me. It's the private study I'd always wanted to have, and Tessie makes a lovely companion. Most snakes aren't very good conversationalists, but she's smart enough to actually hold her end of a debate. She's still a snake, so she doesn't understand a lot of human social concepts, but she's capable of surprisingly nuanced thought.

As such, when the need to speak with someone about my conundrum comes around, she's the person I ask.

Death is such a… messy thing. The mere notion of it is disconcerting, as it serves as a constant reminder that no matter how much better I am than everyone else, I can still be killed just like they could.

I shudder at the thought of the vagrants I'd seen blown to bits, and how close that came to being me.

I've avoided killing because I've always tried to keep myself as far from the idea as possible, and yet…

One must dabble in death to conquer it. It makes sense thematically, and thematics are extremely important in higher level magic. If I want to become immortal, then I'm going to have to find a way to overcome my squeamishness.

"§Hey Tessie.§" I hiss as I sit down at the desk and pull out the notes I'd taken from the Horcrux book.

Many historical witches and wizards have made horcruxes, but it's easy to see exactly where they went wrong. Every notable account has the creator keeping their horcrux on their person, which is just silly. Obviously, if there was something strong enough to kill you, then you wouldn't want to keep the thing keeping you alive on your body that just got killed. A horcrux should be kept somewhere safe, obscure, protected, and far away. It seems silly that so many historical accounts of horcruxes failed to do that.

Then again, maybe the people who were smart about it are still around and have avoided attention.

Still, knowing that doesn't get me any closer to solving my problem. I need to kill someone.

"§Have you ever killed anyone, Tessie?§" I ask.

"§Lots.§" She replies. "§The castle bore many attacks during Salazar's life. I was called to defend in all of them. I cut down all who threatened this domain.§"

I'm not sure if it would be fair to ask — Tessie isn't human — but… "§Did you ever feel bad about it? Did the sight of death disgust you?§"

She gives the closest approximation to a scoff that a snake can manage. "§Why would I? We need to kill to eat, don't we? Besides, they all deserved it for trying to invade.§"

Deserve…

Maybe that's my problem. I've been too focused on death as a universal, abstract concept. Some people do deserve death, and I can think of lots of people on that list right away.

"§If I need to kill someone, will you help me?§" I ask.

"§Do they deserve it?§"

"§Yes.§" I reply, a grin spreading across my face.

"§Then yes, I will. What good is a home if not defended?§"

"§Great.§" Well, that's one problem solved. Now I just have to hope I have the stomach for it when the time comes. "§I wish there was a way I could practice…§"

"§Salazar made a spell that might help with that.§" Tessie said, slithering over to the bookcase. "§A protection cast over my eyes, so that all who meet their gaze have a false-death, instead of a true one.§"

I blink several times as I process that information. It feels almost too good to be true. I tear through the shelves trying to find it before finally stumbling upon the right page.

An optical filter designed to exclude the most harmful effects of the basilisk's gaze, resulting in petrification instead of death.

This is perfect.

Now I just need to find the right targets.

Maybe this won't be as bad as I thought. I'd love a chance to put some of the other Slytherins in their place…

I leave the Dursleys early in the morning, before they have a chance to protest. I raise my wand on the street to summon the Knight Bus, which promptly arrives.

"Hey Ern, look who it is!" The greasy teenager exclaims upon seeing me. "It's Tom Riddle!"

What.

"Leaky Cauldron." I say, handing over the Sickles for fare.

Oh no, we are not ignoring this. Why the fuck did he call you Tom Riddle!?

'It was a fake name I made up on the spot! I used your last name and the first name of the Leaky Cauldron bartender — I didn't expect him to actually remember it. Why?'

…I hate that that's a plausible explanation. Still, the fact that you accidentally used my father's name is… unfortunate.

'Oh. Whoops.'

Yeah.

I turn my gaze to the shifting landscape outside the window.

'So how much are we going to give Fudge? I have a lot of money, but we can't afford to be reckless with it.'

At the same time, we can't give too little, or else he'll feel taken advantage of. I'll see if I can poke around a bit to get some numbers before we go to Gringotts.

'Rather you than me.'

Yeah, yeah…

I make for the exit as soon as the bus comes to a stop, ignoring the attendant's speech. The Leaky is fairly busy with the morning rush, but the streets of Diagon Alley are mercifully clear.

Tam slips into control of my body.

Now, where to begin…

I pay only vague attention as she looks through various bookshops across both Diagon and Knockturn. My attention snaps back when she talks to me.

Ugh, this is no good. I know that there isn't going to be clear documentation on "how to bribe the minister", but I'm turning up nothing. Even historical accounts of ministers ousted for bribery don't list any numbers.

'So what do we do now?'

Now… now we either guess, or we do something more… illicit.

'…Illicit how?'

Tam looks up to the second level of one of the buildings.

Those are the offices for The Daily Prophet. We sneak in and see if we can find some concrete records among the notes of one of their journalists. It would be very risky, as there would be too many people to obliviate should we get caught.

'That seems like a bit much just to get numbers on how much we should bribe the Minister.'

I know, but we really need to give him as little as possible while still seeming generous. It's a risk, but it's a calculated risk, unlike some risks I could name.

'Yeah, yeah… full stealth, then. You want to do this, or should I?'

You can take over for now. I can still use legilimency when you're in control, so I'll use that to help direct attention away from us.

'Right.'

I enter the building and move into the public water closet outside the office, donning my invisibility cloak once I'm inside.

"Homenum Revelio." I whisper.

Confident that the coast is clear, I make my way towards the main door to the office. I don't have to wait long until someone leaves, providing me a chance to slip in before the door closes.

The office for the Daily Prophet is hectic, full of people and paper aeroplanes moving to and fro. I ignore most of the desks, instead moving towards the private offices used by senior journalists and executive staff. It will be easier to root around with less witnesses, after all.

The first office's door is already cracked open, so I move inside.

'Learn anything from your legilimency?'

All I got was office gossip. Let's see what this has in store for us, though…

The office is in a state of chaos that puts even the main area to shame. Papers are plastered on every wall and pinned to pits of string spanning the room. Whoever works here clearly felt the need to use every inch of space available to them. I skim several of the displayed pieces, but there's very little of use to me.

Well, it does seem that whoever works here has a consistent informant. They constantly mention getting information from someone going by "Beedle".

'Beedle?'

It's the name of a well-known author of magical fairy tales. He died hundreds of years ago, so this is clearly just someone using his name.

'There are also a few mentions of a "big event" at Hogwarts this year, but no mentions of what it is.'

Well, hopefully it will work in our favour. Ideally, people will be more focused on it than us, giving us greater freedom to do whatever we need to. Now, let's check the desk.

The papers on the desk are even more focused on the "big event", but they also include several names. Bagman, Jorkins, and Crouch are all underlined.

'I have no idea who any of these people are.'

Don't ask me. I was a book for fifty years.

'I suppose we need to check the drawers now. Can you check them for wards?'

Yeah, hang on.

Tam takes control and begins waving my wand at the bottom left drawer.

Ugh, this is advanced. I'm going to need a minute.

'I'd say "take your time", but I don't think that's a good idea when we're trespassing.'

She continues to work for ten more minutes before sighing.

Okay, I can break this, but I can't disable the alert ward, so we'll need to move fast. Get ready.

A few seconds later, the drawers all slam open with a crack. I start rifling through the papers as fast as I can.

'Well, seems we picked the right office, at least. This journalist has dirt on everyone.'

It's alphabetised. That's convenient, at least.

Tam takes over and skips all the way to the end of the 'F' section. The folder bearing Fudge's name is thick, more than twice as big as any of its neighbours.

Let's see here… affairs, nepotism, favouritism, even blackmail, I see. Seems that Fudge has his fingers in a lot of pies. Ah! Here we are — bribery.

The first thing Tam pulls out is what looks like a rough draft of an article.

Fudge's Corruption Exposed!

By Rita Skeeter

My dear readers, I am sure many of you know that it is an open secret that our dear Minister Fudge is amenable to those with open coinpurses, but the extent to which Minister Fudge has been bought has never been made public. Well fear not, dear readers, for I have the answer! Too long have I been silenced, but now I must bring you the truth, for I cannot sit idly by while [further elaboration goes here. Write as the political climate calls for. Make sure it's juicy!]

Make no mistake, I will doubtlessly be attacked mercilessly for this, but know that I do it to bring you the truth! An informant of mine was able to dive deep into records seldom accessed, showing a list of who has bribed the Minister, for what, and how much.

I skim over the rest of the article, which goes on to list countless "donations" made to Fudge over the years, elaborating in great detail about the amount, the donor, and the speculated reason for the donation, based on political acts that were brought up or dropped afterwards. At the very bottom of the article, the words "Just In Case" are written in red ink and underlined three times.

Seems our journalist friend has contingency plans in place. We got what we came for. Let's get out of here.

I take back control and sneak out of the still-cracked door. I've barely set a foot outside when I hear a voice from the room behind me.

"Who's there? Show yourself!"

Crap! Where did she come from?

I quietly run to the front door of the offices and leave, not caring if people see the door open on its own or not. I work my way through the streets, being careful to avoid bumping into anyone, until I make my way to the back of Flourish and Blotts, taking the chance to catch my breath in one of the less-frequented aisles.

'That was way too close.'

No kidding, but we got all the information we needed and then some. That was definitely worth it.

'It's a shame we didn't have more time. There was a goldmine of information there.'

Yeah, but I doubt we could hit it again anytime soon. She's no doubt going to be on guard for some time after her office was broken into.

'We'll just have to keep it in mind for the future, then.'

Definitely good to have as a last resort. Ideally, we could take the place by storm and look through it at our own leisure, but that would require a heavy fallback plan. Or a complete forfeiture of your public reputation.

Having calmed my nerves, I check my surroundings and remove the invisibility cloak. The Daily Prophet offices are in a state of slight disarray when I pass back by them, but I try not to pay it any more mind than the average civilian would. Appearing too interested or too uninterested would draw unwanted suspicion.

I make my way all the way to Gringotts without incident. I try to entertain myself while I wait for the line to move, watching the goblins do their work.

'What's the deal with goblins, anyways?'

They're demihumans — or descended from demihumans, at least. Humans who used ritual magic to alter their physiology, often — but not always — taking on traits of animals in the process. They also tend to take on some animalistic instincts in the process, which can make them prickly at times. Not much is known about goblins beyond that, as they're notoriously suspicious of humans due to aeons of bad blood.

'You sound… surprisingly sympathetic to them.'

…They're not human, but they are magical, which puts us on the same side. You've seen how bad muggles are towards magical humans — imagine how much worse they'd be to magical nonhumans. I don't necessarily trust goblins, but I certainly know that we should be on the same side in this. Any bad blood between mages and goblins distracts us from worrying about our real enemy.

'Makes sense.'

I finally make it to the front of the line and address the teller. "I'd like to make a large account transfer."

The teller sighs. "Key?"

I hand over the key, which he grabs. He examines it for a few seconds before handing it off to someone who gestures for me to follow.

"Large account transfers require us to verify your identity. That will be handled by the first available accountant." The goblin explains as I'm led through the building's corridors. "Authorisation of the transfer can take up to several days, depending on the status of the receiving account. Please wait here."

The goblin leads me through to an office on the other side of what seems to be a small waterfall. The liquid evaporates as soon as I leave the water, so it's probably an illusion of some kind. The room is sparsely decorated, with bare walls and few pieces of furniture. Two chairs sit on either side of a desk, and a small table in the corner holds a pitcher of water with several glasses, the only loose objects in the room. I ignore them and stare out the window. Despite never climbing any stairs, this office is on the fourth floor.

'Does the warped space of magical architecture ever give you minor headaches?'

Yes. Apparently some people can visualise it well, but it doesn't seem that either of us are one of those people.

"Mister Potter?" A gruff voice sounds from behind me. "Please take a seat so we can conclude your business."

I sit down in the unoccupied chair, and the goblin slides over a small, intricate brass device with a needle on the top. "Please prick your finger so we can verify your identity."

I stare at the device. I've never seen anything remotely like it, in either the muggle or magical worlds.

Goblins have unique methods of manufacture that they've zealously guarded for generations. Anything made by them has a unique look.

I prick my finger on the needle, and watch as the blood flows through invisible grooves on its surface.

'You seem surprisingly knowledgeable about goblins.'

Oh, I'm not, actually. That's about all I know. I never even had enough money to open my own account here, so I never bothered researching anything else.

The blood abruptly vanishes into the device, eliciting a nod from the goblin. "Very well then. Now that your identity has been verified, please tell me the amount and the receiving account."

Tam takes over. "I would like to transfer five thousand galleons to the…" She pauses in thought, "Cornelius Fudge Campaign Fund."

His expression immediately becomes distasteful. "I see. That particular account is… rather easy to transfer to, so I don't expect it to take more than a few hours. Please sign on this line here and I'll file the appropriate paperwork."

One signature later, and I'm strolling out of Gringotts.

'Say, Tam? How much is five thousand galleons, anyways?'

Um… I only skimmed over the modern exchange rates, but it's something like… one hundred thousand pounds?

I nearly stumble on the steps.

'What the fuck, Tam? That's a lot of money!'

I know, but… look, why do you think I wanted to check the numbers? We don't want to offend him by bribing him too little.

'Tam, we can't afford to do this kind of stuff regularly. We don't have the money for it.'

I know, but hopefully we won't need to. Besides, consider it an investment. Sirius Black was friends with your father, and we're positioned to be responsible for his freedom. The Blacks have obscene wealth and obscene resources, and this could get us access to them.

'Yeah, but still, that was more than a quarter of my account balance.'

I know. I'm sorry, but we really needed it for this, and we're not likely to have any big expenses any time soon. Besides, we can hopefully just leverage your fame to sway the Minister in the future.

"Ah, Mister Potter! What a delight to see you!"

'And speak of the devil.'

"Hello, Minister." I say politely. "What a coincidence running into you here."

"Ah, well, I was in the area because of a minor break-in at the Daily Prophet. No one was hurt, and nothing was stolen, but I could hardly stand by after such an atrocious act was committed. What brings you to the Alley this fine afternoon, Mister Potter?"

"Just a bit of financial business." Tam says, taking control of my body. "I'm very grateful for your help with the Sirius Black matter, by the way. How are things proceeding on that front, if I might ask?"

"Oh, very well, very well indeed! Such a shame that such a miscarriage of justice occured in our country, but it was a chaotic time. Still, it's a terrible precedent to have, and Barty was, well, a bit overzealous."

I retake control. "Who's Barty?" I ask, recognising the name from the reporter's notes. "I've come across the name before, but I can't place it."

"Ah, he's the current head of International Cooperation, but he was the head of Law Enforcement during the end of the war." The Minister explains. "He was even the first pick for becoming Minister, but then came that bad business…"

"Bad business?"

The Minister's face brightens immediately. "Oh, nothing to worry about there, dear boy! It's all in the past, and we have things well in hand. Now, since we had the fortune to meet face to face, would you have any interest in attending a Ministry function this Saturday? I'm sure that many people there would be interested in meeting you, and it's never too early to start networking, eh?"

Tam takes back control, quickly adopting her usual demeanour. "I would be honoured to attend, Minister. Just name the time and place."

"Ministry of Magic, level one, conference room four. Be there at one o'clock sharp!"

Tam smiles demurely. "I will. Now, as much of a pleasure as it has been catching up with you, I really wouldn't want to waste any more of your valuable time."

"Of course, yes, I really must be going. Remember, one o'clock sharp!" The Minister and his accompanying aurors bustle off and quickly vanish into the crowd.

Ah, I forgot how much fun it is being able to play people like a fiddle. I missed this.

'Well that's good, because there's no way I'm going to be in control at that party any more than necessary. That's your element, not mine.'

Don't threaten me with a good time, Harry.

'Whatever. Let's just go back home.'

Two letters are waiting on my desk. The top one I easily recognise as being from Ron, though I don't recognise the bottom one at all. I cast several diagnostic charms on it, but when they all come up clean, I shrug and open the letter.

Harry,

My name is Sirius Black. I'm sure you know all about me after the past year, though. I was best friends with your parents back in school. James was the best man I ever knew, and his death still stings all these years later.

There's so much I'd like to write to you, but I only have a single piece of parchment, and it was hard to convince the guards here to give me that much, so I'll have to keep it short.

I don't know if anyone told you this, but your parents named me your godfather shortly after you were born. I spoke briefly with Dumbledore, and he informed me about the importance of having you staying with your family. I'm sure you don't want any major disruptions to your life, but if you ever want to get away for a bit, then you can feel free to come to my place.

Of course, that all assumes that this trial will go well. I know that things are currently looking in my favour, but I find it hard to be optimistic about the Ministry after the last decade.

I'm not sure if I can even receive mail at the moment, so any reply should probably wait until when (and if) I get declared innocent.

Sirius Black

Well, this should make it easier for us to get in his good graces.

'Yeah. A pity that Dumbledore got to him, though. If he's my godfather, then he could theoretically get us out of here for good.'

Depending on his personality, that could be worse. You've at least threatened your aunt and uncle into submission at this point, but Sirius might be a lot like Remus, taking way too much of an interest in our activities. While getting out of the muggle world would be great, I honestly don't know if it would be worth sacrificing our current degree of freedom.

I open Ron's letter. Much of it is the usual fare, talking about family and complaining about homework but at the end…

'Tickets to the Quidditch World Cup? Well, how could I say no to a thing like that?'

Uuuuuuuugh. Is this your idea of revenge for making you go to Fudge's thing?

'No, I just like Quidditch. The fact that it acts as revenge for that is just a bonus.'

Hmph.

'I still don't get how you can enjoy this.'

Shush. I'm in my element here.

Tam laughs mildly at an absolutely atrocious joke told by one of the Ministry employees at Fudge's gathering.

'I know you are, but… why?'

What's wrong with taking joy in being able to make people do what I want just by speaking to them? I feel like a conductor in control of an orchestra.

'Yeah, I don't really get music either.'

I feel Tam fluttering in irritation at my inability to understand.

It's about control, Harry. I can make these people do what I want them to with no one being any the wiser. Sure, anyone capable of casting the imperius curse can make people do what they want, but that's brute force. This is… simpler, and so much more elegant.

'Okay, I can kind of get that. Control is nice, but I'd never have the patience to do this for hours on end.'

That's why you're the Gryffindor and I'm the Slytherin.

'Being in Gryffindor isn't a negative trait, Tam.'

Bullheadedness will only get you so far. You rushed into the Chamber of Secrets without a plan, and that got you stuck with me.

'You say that like it's a bad thing.'

I feel a slight flush appear on my cheeks and a myriad of emotions flash through Tam's mind.

That's, uh… thanks.

"Are you all right, Mister Potter?" One of the people asks. "You're looking a bit flustered."

"I'm fine." Tam says smoothly. "I just recalled an amusing incident from the school year. Perhaps I can tell you about it later."

I watch with increasing boredom as Tam continues to make small talk with the various employees and guests. I don't normally mind Tam taking over for long periods of time, but the sheer boredom of watching her interact with the exceedingly dull people at the event is limiting the amount of enjoyment I can have in my own head.

Doing alright there, Harry? You feel agitated.

'I feel like I'm going to go insane unless something interesting happens soon.'

Ah. Well, we have been here for a few hours, so I suppose there wouldn't be any harm in ducking out soon. Just give me a while longer to wrap things up. At the very least, things should be more interesting than making small talk with random Ministry employees.

'I don't see why we had to interact with them in the first place.'

It helps our image if we're seen interacting with common folks in addition to the upper crust. It prevents us from being seen as elitist.

'I'll take your word for it.'

Tam begins making her way towards the Minister. His face lights up when he sees us.

"Ah, Mister Potter! How good to see you. I'd meant to talk to you earlier, but I'm sure you understand that my attention is a hot commodity at these events."

"Of course." Tam replies. "It's been a pleasure being here regardless. I hope you don't mind me immediately wanting to talk shop, but how is the Sirius Black case unfolding?"

"Hard to say at this point, honestly. The fact that that Petty-grow fellow was alive throws a lot of the initial assumptions into doubt, but Black certainly didn't cast himself in a positive light at the time." Fudge answered. "Still, justice must be done, eh?"

"Of course. I'm so glad that we have an upstanding Minister like yourself who's willing to go to the necessary lengths to ensure fairness and equality in the eyes of the law." Tam says, laying it on far thicker than I could ever stomach.

Fudge actually blushes under the praise. "Yes, well, no one ever said that being Minister was easy, but that doesn't mean that it's not very important. I mean, where would we be if we abandoned the very basis of the laws that form our society?"

'This coming from the man who tried to argue that due process was a slippery slope not one month earlier?'

Of course. People like Fudge will readily change their memories if it serves their ego. Besides, letting Fudge take the credit keeps additional attention off of us.

'How can you stomach being around him?'

I don't vomit easily. That helps a lot.

"Say, you're something of a quidditch aficionado, aren't you?" Fudge asks. "I've got someone you might like to meet."

Oh gods.

'Finally, something interesting.'

I hate you.

'No you don't.'

"Harry Potter, this is Ludovic Bagman, ex-Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps and our very own head of Games and Sports."

I nod politely. "A pleasure to meet you, Mister Bagman."

"Please, call me Ludo." He says, holding out a hand, which I hesitantly shake. "And the pleasure is all mine. It's not every day I get to chat with the youngest seeker of the century."

A genuine smile passes my lips as I'm recognised for one of my own achievements. "That's not normally why people want to meet me, you know."

He laughs. "Perhaps. I actually cancelled some prior appointments when I heard you'd been invited to this little shindig. My job isn't normally a busy one, but these past few months have been quite an ordeal, what with the Quidditch World Cup and the…" He trails off.

"The big event at Hogwarts, right?" I ask, recalling the name Bagman being listed among the journalist's notes.

Bagman looks at me appraisingly. "I'm surprised you know about that. We've been trying very hard to keep it quiet. Of course, security in the ministry has as many holes in it as a sieve, but we've done a much better job than usual keeping a lid on this one."

"I have ears in many places." I reply. "But I must admit that that's the extent of my knowledge, so whatever efforts you've been taking have been largely successful."

He laughs. "Oh, I like you, Mister Potter. I expect you'll be seeing me a decent amount during the coming year, so I hope you'll be down for the occasional chat. It's rare to meet someone with a mind for quidditch like yourself."

I feel Tam grumbling in the back of my mind, which only forces me to smile wider. "It would be my pleasure."

"Speaking of that event, Ludo," Fudge interrupts, "We need to check in with Barty Crouch, make sure that he hasn't been falling behind, what with the scandal and all."

So, Crouch has been set up as the fall man for Sirius Black not getting a trial, hmm?

'Seems that way.'

Well, the fact that there's a fall man at all really seems to be boding well for us getting him free.

'Here's hoping.'

I start moving towards the door, but find myself intercepted by a young woman with short, curly hair.

"Hi, Harry." She says as though I should know her. "I hope you don't mind, but I've been dying to meet you. I see you were getting along well with my boss."

"Your boss?" I ask. "You mean Bagman?"

Her brow furrows. "Who?"

"Ludo Bagman?" I supply. "Head of International Games and Sports?"

Her face lights up. "Oh, you know Ludo? He's an excellent fellow. Best boss I ever had. How did you meet him?"

"I spoke to him. Just now. Like, right before you talked to me."

"Oh, yes, that's right. Well, I must say that I've been dying to meet you. I was supposed to go on vacation, but I cancelled when I heard you would be here. It's nice to meet you."

Something is clearly not right in her head. "I'm sorry, but I never caught your name. Who are you?"

She blinks several times. "Oh, I'm, um… ummmm…" Her expression blanks as she loses herself in thought. "I'm sorry, it must have slipped my mind." She says after several moments pass.

I raise an eyebrow. "Your own name slipped your mind? I'm sorry, but are you alright?"

"Oh! Oh, yes. Yes, I'm fine, I've just been very absentminded lately. Probably stress from all the work getting the big event at Hogwarts set up."

Well, this is convenient.

'How so?'

Someone with memory issues who knows about the event at Hogwarts? Seems like a prime target for legilimency to me

I pause to consider it. While very few people learn occlumency, most grown mages at least learn some ability to detect intrusions to their mind, even if they can't block them. It's for that reason why Tam had me practice all of my legilimency on muggles. Yet, a person so absentminded that she can't consistently remember her own name? She's extremely unlikely to remember any mental intrusions, and she's fallen right into our lap.

'Alright, sure. I'll check her mind, you stay in control.'

Alright.

Tam takes control of my body as I gaze into the woman's eyes and launch a probe into her mind.

What awaits me is nothing more than a mess. It's not as bad as Sirius's mind, but most of the threads I see have been torn asunder.

Well, I can't find anything in her mind like this. I start trying to pull the threads together, recreating some sense of order in her mind. It's only when I start trying to get a feel for the total damage that I realise it's not random. Something punched a clean hole, boring through memories until they found what they were looking for. I continue to reconnect the threads as I go, until I finally find the end of the damage.

There's nothing there. In fact, there's such a conspicuous absence that only one thing comes to mind. She was obliviated, for some reason or another. I start dredging through her subconscious until I finally find an intact memory near the area. I pull it out and start rethreading it, only to find the probe severed before I get a chance to view the memory in question.

I find myself unceremoniously thrust back into my body with Tam still in control. The woman in front of us had turned around to look at something.

'Dammit!'

Sorry, but someone called her and I couldn't maintain eye contact without it seeming suspicious. Did you learn anything?

'Just that someone obliviated her. Poorly. I had to repair the damage before I could find anything, but that took up too much time.'

Damn.

"Now Bertha, I hope you're not boring Mister Potter." Fudge chides as he walks over. "We wouldn't want him to think these little functions are boring, do we?"

'Too late for that.'

Shush.

"Oh no, I just-" Bertha cuts herself off, wincing as she holds a hand to her head. "Sorry, I-I think I have a headache. I'm going to lie down for a bit."

"While I have enjoyed myself quite a bit, I really should be going, Minister." Tam says once Bertha leaves. "It's been a pleasure."

"Quite right, dear boy!" Fudge blusters. "It's been a pleasure having you. I hope I can count on your attendance in the future!"

I make my way towards the exit once again, only to be stopped by another figure stepping into my path.

"Mister Potter." Lucius drawls with the faintest hint of sarcasm. "What an honour it is to cross your path once again."

I take back control of my body and raise an eyebrow. "Indeed. One might even think that our meetings were planned in advance." I reply, thinking back to the obviously planned meeting when he planted Tam's diary on Ginny. "Of course, one never knows when plans might go awry. I'm sure a man of your stature wouldn't know anything about that, though."

The faintest bit of tension is visible on Lucius's face. "Mishaps do happen on occasion, but I certainly know how to clean up my messes."

I raise an eyebrow. Is he actually threatening me? "Well, I wouldn't get used to that if I were you. One day, you might end up creating a mess far beyond your control."

"I believe you'll find that my cleaning charms are quite adequate." He snaps. "Perhaps you should take greater care to see that you never find yourself dirty."

I can't think of a response to that, but Tam steps in and takes over. "It's funny, Lucius, how you are so different from your father, and yet so, so similar. There was a Slytherin girl a few years below him in school and the conversations they had were remarkably similar to the one that we're having right now. Isn't it incredible how history manages to repeat itself?"

Lucius's knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip on his cane. "I see."

"I also hear your father had a close call with Slytherin's monster back in his day. Perhaps you should make sure those sorts of near-death experiences don't skip a generation." Tam says as she examines my fingernails. "I'm sure you'd be devastated if anything were to happen to your child. Draco, I believe his name is?"

Lucius's eyes widen in a mixture of shock and anger. "You will not-"

"Lucius!" Fudge says as he jogs up, followed by the woman from earlier. "We have an emergency! Bertha just remembered something, and it's… it's a big problem! I've already contacted Amelia to assemble a team of aurors, and I need you to help me figure out how to spin this!"

"Well, it seems you're needed elsewhere, Lucius." Tam drawls. "Do remember what I said earlier — I'd hate to hear that something happened."

He shoots us one last glare and then storms off after Fudge.

That was satisfying.

'Was it really a good idea to antagonise him like that?'

Hey, his family is loyal to me — core me, that is. He should be the one watching his tone.

I can't argue with that, so I change the subject.

'I wonder what Fudge was worried about. It was probably related to that memory I restored in that Bertha woman's head, but I'm curious what it was.'

I'll tell you what it is. It is "not our problem". We dealt with enough bullshit with Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew last year. Let the Ministry solve their own problems this time.

'Fair enough. Here's to a stress free year.'

Cheers to that.

Tam swipes a flute of champagne from one of the tables as we leave, downing it in a single swig.

'Ugh! That's nasty! Why would you drink something like that?'

Alcohol is an acquired taste.

'You're eighteen! How have you had a chance to acquire a taste like this?'

I know how to budget my time well. Besides which, Slughorn loved alcohol, and never cared much about enforcing a drinking age at his parties. After all, we were the "good kids". It's possible to get away with so much rule breaking if you establish yourself as well-behaved first. That's where you went wrong.

'Yes, well, now we're both stuck with the consequences of my actions, so you'll just have to learn to deal with it.'

I've dealt with worse. Now come on, we have plans to make.

A/N (Tendra): Okay, so I'd like to preface this by saying that I'm really sorry this chapter took so long. I started writing it right after I published the last one, but I ran into several roadblocks. For one, the tension of the story is at a low point right now — probably lower than it's ever been, which is hard because Harry and Tam are characters who work best when faced with adversity. As it is, I really don't like how most of the scenes turned out, though I thought the conversations with Bertha and Lucius turned out well.

Another reason that this took so long is because I quickly realised that I didn't like my plans for year 4. Year three of DftD is probably the closest any of my fics have played to canon (which doesn't say much, but still), and year 4 was originally going to be even closer to canon than that. I realised that the only way I was going to be satisfied was to throw a huge fucking wrench into the works.

Enter Bertha Jorkins, the perfect small detail that can completely derail the entire plot of year 4.

I also wanted to avoid the big mistake I made with year 3. While I have maintained and will continue to maintain that it was in-character for Harry and Tam to miss Pettigrew being the rat — they're both very self-centred and had no reason to question the common narrative — I failed to account for how frustrating many readers would find it. After all, readers familiar with canon already knew the twist, and seeing characters blatantly miss the clues would be frustrating.

So, rest assured, I've learned my lesson.

This time, no one is going to know the twist but me.

Enjoy~

E/N (Xgenje): Ya know what. Fuck you Harry. Murphy is listening and you can't just say this shit and not expect a dump truck to back up and dump a load of crap in your face. "Not my problem" Siriusly, what the hell are you thinking? This is the most "Your problem" thing you have ever done.

E/N (Foadar): One lesson I learned while reading this chapter, is that dusting up my knowledge of canon can help. Also, this is probably the most do-gooder Harry has been in a while. He not only saved Bertha's life for now, he also healed much of her mind. He's practically a paragon of the light in this one. At least compared to previous chapters. Cheers, Foadar.