Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 67

The Power of the Press

by Technomad

With the Sirius Black situation cleared up, the Dementors were soon gone. Harry and his friends found themselves very popular with all their schoolmates. Even those who normally had no truck with Slytherins were delighted that the dread spirits were no longer about.

"Everybody's happy to see the last of those things," Percy Weasley said, when Harry and Dudley ran across him in a little-frequented corridor. "I was always nervous that they'd get out of control and get into the school somehow." He looked grim. "I don't like the way they affect me."

"Does anybody like that?" Dudley asked curiously. He shuddered convulsively. "I can't stand those things!"

"No, nobody does. The guards at Azkaban have to be rotated regularly, and after their tours of duty, they often aren't up to much till they've been away for a while. Even though they aren't generally too near the Dementors."

"Is that so," Harry said, musingly. While he had no plans at that time to break the wizards' loosely-enforced-at-best laws badly enough to be tossed into Azkaban, Harry was aware that not everybody in the wizard world loved him. And he knew how easy it could be to frame someone up, or even have them imprisoned sans trial, the way Sirius Black had apparently been. All it apparently took was enough public hysteria.

A rustle from nearby caught Harry's attention, and he whirled, his wand out and ready. "Who's there? Come out!" Dudley hadn't heard, but as always, he supported Harry unconditionally, drawing his wand to deal with whatever had spooked his cousin.

"Penny? Come out, it's all right!" At Percy's call, Penelope Clearwater, a Ravenclaw of about Percy's age, came out from behind a tapestry, blushing slightly. Looking at her, and noting Percy's slight dishevelment and flushed cheeks, Harry figured he knew what he and his cousin had inadvertently interrupted.

"Oh. Sorry, Penny. Sorry, Percy. We didn't mean to disturb you. We're off now. Do please, carry on." As Harry turned, leading Dudley away, he thought he heard a muffled giggle.

"Good job we aren't on very good terms with Fred and George Weasley," mused Dudley. "If we told them about this, they'd find a way to make their brother miserable, and probably break up his romance."

"Damn fools," Harry growled. While he liked the Weasley twins on a personal basis, he was not enchanted with their addiction to pranking and teasing people. Coming from Roanapur, he was used to the idea that even some of the most unlikely-looking people could turn out to be deadly dangerous. He thought about some newcomer to town pranking someone from one of the main mobs, and shuddered. That prankster would almost certainly quickly end up dead!

"You'd think they'd want to treat their own brother well, wouldn't you?" asked Dudley. Harry had to agree on that point. In a dangerous world, family was often the one thing that a person had that wouldn't be likely to betray them. Wantonly alienating your nearest and dearest might mean that, in your hour of need, when help was at a premium, you were all alone.

"Let's forget them," Harry said. "Come. We've exams to study for. School goes on, no matter what ructions and ruckuses erupt." And that was nothing but the truth. Harry supposed that, like Roanapur residents, their teachers had seen enough that it took a great deal to shock or shake them. Having a whole castle full of nutty kids with magic to deal with would harden anybody.

For a second, Harry wondered how Balalaika would have done, had she been magical and teaching at Hogwarts. He smiled to himself. Even with her scars, she was attractive enough that she'd have had quite a few of her pupils, boys mainly but a few girls, too, crushing on her. He thought that would amuse her, and that anybody who tried going farther than making goo-goo eyes at her would get shut down, good and hard. As far as Harry knew, Balalaika had never shown any interest in men, sex or love.

By this time, the campaign against Abraxas Malfoy, and some of the other prominent wizards and witches who had escaped charges after the fall of Voldemort, had taken on a life of its own. The letters columns of the Daily Prophet, Witch Weekly and the Quibbler were thick with accusations and counter-accusations, and ferocious defenses by those most frequently accused. Invective was flying fast and furious, and Harry read accounts of impassioned speeches in the Wizengamot given both by victims of the Death Eaters, or their near kin, and accused Death Eaters.

"Man, we've really started something up!" he marveled one evening, when he was alone with his inner circle. Ron nodded, avidly reading a transcript of a particularly rabid speech in the Wizengamot, calling for the retrial of all accused Death Eaters, with Veritaserum mandatory for all testimony.

"I feel a little like the Sorcerer's Apprentice, in Fantasia," murmured Hermione. The purebloods present, not familiar with Muggle culture, looked at her very oddly.

"Hermione, we are sorcerers' apprentices, aren't we?" asked Luna. "Are you feeling all right?" She leaned forward, putting the back of her hand to Hermione's forehead to gauge her temperature. Hermione looked like she was about to bat the hand away, but Dudley gave her a warning look, and she submitted to Luna's touch. Like all of Hogwarts by that time, Hermione knew that Dudley was fiercely protective of Luna, and he was rather more impulsive than Harry. In their partnership, Harry was generally the one who provided cold calculation, while Dudley was more prone to lash out first and ask questions later.

"It's a Muggle reference, sweetie," Dudley explained. "We maybe should have shown you Fantasia when you were in Roanapur. We can't do it here because of the fact that electronic gear doesn't work here. Pity, that…"

"Basically, in the story, the sorcerer leaves his home and leaves his apprentice to do a bunch of scut-work. The apprentice gets tired of hauling buckets of water, and enchants a broom…don't ask me why a broom…into a sort of servant to haul buckets of water. However, he doesn't know how to stop it, and before he can get things under control, he's got hundreds of them hauling water, flooding out the whole place. The sorcerer gets back, puts things back the way they should be, and whacks his apprentice with a broom," Hermione explained. "It's a short way of saying that we may have started something we can't control, and it may have consequences we aren't prepared for."

"As long as those consequences hurt the Death Eaters who got away, I'm good with it," Ginny muttered fiercely. "Mum still misses her brothers who died, and she's not the only one by a long shot!"

A few days later, things went to a new stage. The Daily Prophet published a huge article on its first page, and Harry's eyes went wide as he read it.

The Murderers Among Us

by the staff of the Daily Prophet

Ever since the end of the Dark Lord's reign of terror, there have been questions asked in many quarters about those who claimed to be under the Imperius Curse. Some victims of the Dark Lord's forces have long harboured doubts about these claims. We here at the Daily Prophet have come to harbour similar doubts.

For starters, the Imperius Curse is not easy to cast, and must be regularly re-cast to keep a victim under control. Even many Hogwarts Old Boys and Old Girls who did very well indeed on their NEWT examinations would have trouble keeping such a curse up on a resisting subject. So how, we wonder, is it that so many people were apparently kept under it for months, if not years, at a time?

Another coincidence we have had our attention called to is the way that acquittals due to the Imperius Curse tended to strongly correlate with the wealth of the defendant. Put bluntly, rich defendants were almost always exonerated, while the poorer defendants, even ones with much less actual evidence against them, or much stronger proof that they were, indeed, under the Imperius, were consigned to rot in Azkaban. Many of these unfortunates are there to this day.

We question whether our system of justice is as even-handed and impartial as we have always been assured. There have been accusations of corruption, and we plan to delve into those accusations to find out whether there is truth in them. If we find evidence that wealthy defendants were able to buy undeserved acquittals, we will surely publish it.

"Let justice be done though the heavens fall!"

When Harry showed the article to his inner circle, they all read it silently. After a minute, Hermione spoke up: "This will put the cat among the pigeons for fair!"

With the Daily Prophet weighing in on the scandal, it was well out in the open. Harry gleefully read about "exonerated" Death Eaters being refused service in restaurants and stores, and fights in the street between them and victims of the Death Eaters' depredations, or, in many cases, the still-grieving bereft kin of those who'd been killed by the Dark Lord's forces.

"I've got to keep this in mind," he gloated to Dudley, one evening when the two of them were alone on top of the battlements. "It's not how much force you use, it's how it is applied!"

"Wait till Balalaika hears about this!" Dudley said, smiling. "I bet she'll be so proud of us! She's always said that brains beat brawn, and here we are, proving her right yet again!"

About the only drawback to the ruction was that Professor Snape found himself all but confined to Hogwarts Castle itself. Even with Dumbledore's repeated assurances that Snape had turned against the Death Eaters, and had done so before the Dark Lord's downfall, there were people out there who would have cheerfully hexed him just for having borne the Dark Mark.

"I do trust that your little scheme has a point, Mr. Potter, Mr. Dursley," Snape purred, one afternoon after Potions class was over. Snape had asked the boys to stay after class, since he wanted to speak to them in privacy.

"It does, sir," Harry said. "We are hoping to get rid of Abraxas Malfoy. At least, we want him out of the picture. If he ends up in Azkaban, we don't mind a bit."

"That is an interesting project, Mr. Potter. May I ask why you wish to destroy the reputation of a prominent member of our community? As far as I know, Mr. Malfoy, the elder, has never met you and has done nothing to you personally. Why target him, out of so many?"

"Well, sir," said Harry, "in the first place, we are informed that Abraxas Malfoy is the real power in the Malfoy household. He apparently controls the family wealth, and is the one pouring poison in our Housemate Draco's ear all summer hols. Every year, we manage to train Draco…or Mr. Malfoy, if you prefer, although this is going to get awfully confusing if you insist on that…more or less out of his 'purebloods are natural Nietzschean supermen, all others are scum' attitude, and every year, he comes back from his time at home spouting that line again."

"I have noticed this myself, Mr. Potter, and it has concerned me. I believe that if Mr. Malfoy, your Housemate, leaves Hogwarts with that attitude intact, he will shortly come to grief in the outside world. Many people with whom he will have to interact are Muggle-born themselves, or half-blood…or are married to such people. Not all of them will be amused by his pretence of superiority." Snape leaned forward, his black eyes glittering. "That said, I also believe that you have other motives. What are they?"

"Sir, I'm convinced that the Death Eaters that got away are waiting for the return of their leader, and having met the Dark Lord once, I know that he's looking for a new way to embody himself. When he comes back, he'll call his followers to him again, and if I can arrange for those followers to be unable to answer his call, that'll mean he has less to work with."

"Also, sir, even if we can't get them thrown into Azkaban, we figure that the Death Eaters' organisation will be less effective if it doesn't have the wealth of such as the Malfoys to draw on. Balalaika always says that money is a weapon of war, as much as guns, bombs or other such Muggle gadgets, and we've studied such things enough to know that as always, she knows what she is talking about." Dudley's voice was very firm. To him, even more than to Harry, Balalaika's word was law.

"Your Miss Balalaika is a very wise individual, and I would love to make her acquaintance. You have taken precautions to prevent your involvement in this campaign from coming to light, I trust?"

"Never fear, sir. Miss Lovegood was very helpful, since she knows how the wizarding press works, and knew whom to call on for help. We've kept our own names completely out of this. Like a successful criminal career, this sort of thing is best when done with anonymous excellence." Dudley grinned at Harry, remembering their talk with the Belles of St. Trinian's. Harry wondered for a second what the Belles would have done about people like the Death Eaters. From what he knew of them (Hermione had been quite informative) he rather thought that their approach would have been much more direct.

Snape raised his eyebrows at this, and then he smiled. "You boys are Slytherin to the bone, as Mr. Lucius Malfoy said once," he said. "I wonder if he ever thought that Slytherin tactics would be used against his own family with such effectiveness?"

"We don't know, sir," Harry answered. "Our information is that Mr. Lucius Malfoy has been all but usurped in his own family by his father, and has been separated from Madame Malfoy for some time. If this is true, there would have to be some resentment there, and we think that if we can bring down Mr. Abraxas Malfoy, maybe Mr. Lucius Malfoy will be less of a pureblood fanatic."

"I don't know. You are aware that I was a Death Eater myself, but I had little to do with the Malfoys at that time. That said, I knew Lucius when we were in school together; we were Housemates, although he was a few years ahead of me. Even then, he was a pureblood-supremacist. You may be going to a very great deal of work for no purpose."

"If he was a Death Eater who got off by pleading the Imperius, sir, he might be brought back up on charges too. What we're mainly worried about is getting Draco Malfoy to act like a human being. The stunt we pulled with the palanquin was quite effective, but the effect wore off after a while. At least we've got him cured of treating the rest of us like house-elves."

"That is not entirely Mr. Draco Malfoy's fault, Mr. Dursley." Snape looked very troubled. "I am somewhat of a friend of the Malfoy family…and don't look so astonished, even they have friends, as do I…and I observed Mr. Draco Malfoy from early childhood. He was raised with little interaction with other children, and surrounded by his parents' adult friends and house-elves. In some ways, his development was stunted."

"We'd like to get him to rejoin the human race, sir," Harry assured Snape, "if only because we have to live with him, on his level, and it would be much easier without having to spend the times right after he returns from his home deflating his ego and getting him to recognise that Muggle-borns and half-bloods are fully worthy as wizards and witches."

"A laudable concern, Mr. Potter. Very well. I shall observe developments. As I have said, you are truly worthy of Slytherin House, and I believe your Miss Balalaika will be proud of you, particularly if this scheme works. It is well-thought-out and subtle, and very hard to counter." Snape pointed at the door. "You may go."

As they left, Harry muttered to Dudley: "And besides, it's fun!" Both boys laughed quietly as they went off down the corridor.

Behind them, Snape shook his head ruefully. He was certain that Harry and his cohort would be Slytherin house legends, with tales told of their exploits long after they departed the school. That said, he sometimes wondered what sort of Frankenstein's monster he was allowing to be created.

For schoolboys and schoolgirls to pit themselves against a wizard of Abraxas Malfoy's prominence, wealth and power would normally have been madness. However, instead of merely rolling over and allowing the Malfoy patriarch to corrupt and spoil their Housemate, Harry, Dudley and their friends had figured out a plan of attack that didn't point directly at them, and that the elder Malfoy could not easily counter. His wealth had made him arrogant, and while he had many toadies, he had few friends, if any. Once public opinion had turned on him, Snape figured that those toadies would desert him happily.

Snape knew more than he had let on to Harry and Dudley. Abraxas Malfoy had been the Malfoy who was most enthusiastic about Voldemort's movement, and had done a great deal to influence his son, and now his grandson, in the same direction. During the Death Eaters' rampage across Britain, the Malfoy patriarch had taken a leading role, often indulging in gratuitous atrocities. Snape was aware that Abraxas Malfoy had been one of the Death Eaters who killed Gideon and Fabian Prewitt, Molly Weasley's brothers. He had informed Dumbledore of that fact, and the Headmaster, as per usual, had done nothing, preferring to hoard the information and release it in his own good time.

Snape was looking forward to a public reaction against the Death Eaters, even if it did inconvenience him. He had been treated with contempt by others in the organization, and Voldemort himself had made it clear that he held Snape in low regard. Between his poor background, his half-Muggle ancestry, and his lack of funds, he had been, at best, tolerated for his skill with potions.

The thought of prominent "ex-" Death Eaters being dragged back in for questioning…there were many cases that were still open…and not able to hide behind their wealth pleased Snape enormously. Even when he'd been a loyal Death Eater, the behavior of a lot of those with whom he was forced to associate had sickened and disgusted him. Bellatrix Lestrange, with her unhinged sadism, had been the worst, but there were many others whom Snape would have loved to see dead or in Azkaban, even though they were ostensibly on the same side.

END Chapter 67