Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the intellectual property associated with Harry Potter.

Hi all,

Here's the next chapter. Harry finally meets Professor Babbling, and Charlus causes an uproar at the Wizengamot.

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Chapter 21

22nd September

Harry knocked on the door of the Ancient Runes classroom and entered when he heard the professor calling from within. He'd been wanting to meet Professor Babbling for a while now, but other things had occupied his time.

Harry found her seated at her desk, marking her student's homework. She looked up as he approached and greeted him with a smile.

"Mr Potter, I didn't think you would be the one to approach me. I've been meaning to reach out to you. Take a seat."

Harry sat down and placed a small vial of blood on the table. Professor Babbling stared at it curiously but held her tongue until he spoke.

"Hello, Professor Babbling. I need some advice about something, so I brought a small gift as thanks in advance."

"Are you bribing me, Mr Potter?" A wry smile lit up her face.

"Call me Harry. No, but I do know you have been very busy lately with classes and everything involved with the Enchanted Wall. I didn't want to presume upon your time."

"I am a professor," Babbling said. "I wouldn't be doing my job if I turned you away, even though I won't see you in my class for a couple more years."

Professor Babbling picked up the vial of blood. "What is this?"

"It's a vial of blood from a Cimmerian Terror."

Professor Babbling almost dropped the vial of blood in surprise. She placed the vial down gently and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Harry, do you know how rare and valuable this blood is?" Babbling asked. "The Cimmerian Terror is a dragon that went extinct in the fourteenth century. It was so destructive that it was hunted into extinction."

"I know," Harry replied. It surprised him when he did some research on the dragon. He had a feeling it would be special, however, since it was the most expensive item in the Source's shop, costing ten points for a single vial.

"I cannot accept this, Harry." Professor pushed the vial across the desk. "Not only is it priceless, but I am a professor. I can't accept gifts from students."

"You're not my professor yet," Harry pointed out logically. "So, it shouldn't be a problem. I feel like it's the least I could do because I am going to be badgering you with a lot of questions in the future."

"The price—"

"I have an entire dragon carcass worth of blood in the family vault," Harry lied. "It has been sitting there under stasis charms for centuries. The only reason we haven't sold any of it is because of the negative connotations it has with some dark magic."

"A bunch of fools," Babbling scowled. "While it's true that it can be used in a lot of dark rituals, it is only because the blood is overflowing with magic. I can name several more uses for it that don't involve rituals."

"Why don't you hold onto it until you feel like you have earned it," Harry suggested with a smile.

"Don't you dare try and charm me with that smile, mister," Babbling said, pointing a finger at him. "I went to school with your father, and he was just as charismatic."

"You knew my father?" Harry asked curiously.

He had not asked his grandmother about his parents that much. He wasn't sure what was holding him back from learning more about them. Perhaps it was because he wasn't one to ever look too deeply into things that were already in the past. He never knew them, so he did not see a reason to bring up such a painful subject. It may have been different if he didn't have his grandparents there for him. Perhaps he should put in more effort to learn more about his parents.

"He certainly got into mischief," Babbling said fondly. "It was always funny to see how he chased after your mother. He did the stupidest things to try and get her attention, but all he accomplished was to make her angry."

"How did they ever get together?"

Babbling sighed, "Your father grew up a lot after your grandfather passed away. He turned into the type of man Lily felt she could fall in love with, and it wasn't long after that they officially became a couple."

It struck Harry as funny that she was mentioning his dead grandfather when it was going to be revealed tomorrow that he was alive and well.

"So, what question did you have for me?" Babbling asked.

Harry pulled out a Spell Card from his pocket and handed it to her. "I am attempting to inscribe a spell onto a card that will blind a target or group of targets, but I need more power to make it work."

"A talisman?" Babbling asked with interest, inspecting the card. "What material is this card made out of? Talismans are usually less rigid."

"A blend of materials, but I cannot tell you any more than that. A family secret," Harry said.

"Do you know there is a spell that is similar in function?" Babbling asked. "The Lumos Maxima spell."

"I am aware," Harry acknowledged. "However, it's a sixth-year spell, so it takes a lot of magic to cast it. Furthermore, it is far more complicated to inscribe as well, so turning it into a Spell Card is beyond my capabilities at the moment. It's better if I modify a first-year spell."

Professor Babbling hummed in agreement. "I see you already have your own obscuring sequence. At a glance, I can see that it would be difficult to break. What's the reasoning behind wanting to create Spell Cards?"

"I am going to use the Spell Cards as an alternative to casting spells with a wand," Harry replied. "Or perhaps I should say, a combination of the two. I have added a magic storage sequence to them that can be charged with my own magic beforehand. That means I won't have to use any magic when I really need to use them."

"Interesting," Babbling replied, returning the card. "So, you need a more specialised runic ink to give yourself more power?"

"I'd like to make my own, but I wouldn't have a clue where to start."

"Well, if you don't mind the extravagance, the Cimmerian Terror blood would be a very potent base for any runic ink. However, it is notorious for being a vicious and unstable substance. You would have to experiment and find a combination of ingredients that would balance it out."

Professor Babbling grabbed a quill and scribbled something down on a piece of parchment. "Here is a list of ingredients that have stabilising properties. Just experiment with combinations of them until you find something that works."

Harry took the list of ingredients from her. He noted that most of them were available in the Sources' shop. "Thanks, professor."

"Why don't you show me how the Spell Card works?"

Harry stood up and turned to face the other direction. He held the card between two fingers and aimed for a specific point in the air. Since he had been always practising his throwing, he had become very accurate. Now he just had to increase the speed at which he was able to throw them.

One challenge he faced was trying to suspend a Spell Card in midair when he wasn't specifically aiming at a solid object or person. If he wanted to attack a group of enemies, he needed to be able to control the flight of the card so it could land exactly where it needed to. Furthermore, he wanted it to be tied to the trigger sequence, stopping at the same time as the spell activated.

It had taken some time, but he had finally managed to combine the trigger sequence with an immobility sequence. The card would stop in mid-air momentarily when the spell activated, before falling to the ground. It still wasn't perfect, as he would like the card to stay suspended for longer, as it would increase the effect and duration that certain spells had.

Harry activated the Lumos Spell Card and threw it across the room. The trigger sequence had a two-second delay. It had almost reached the far wall before the spell activated and a flash of light emerged from the card. It illuminated half the room briefly but wasn't bright enough to blind someone.

Professor Babbling clapped in appreciation. Harry wasn't pleased with the results. The two-second delay was too much. It was only because the classroom was large that it activated before it hit the far wall. In fact, having the card tied to a specific time made it inflexible, because it meant he could only throw cards within a limited range.

"It looks like you're trying to figure something out," Babbling said with a laugh.

Harry explained his problem to her, to which Professor Babbling nodded. She walked over to a bookshelf and grabbed a book. She flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for.

"Here is a trigger sequence that will work. The activation time depends on the amount of magic you are injecting into it. Do you know how to infuse magic into objects without using a wand?"

"No," Harry admitted. "I use my wand to store magic in the cards. I am only able to activate Spell Cards because the trigger sequence I use only needs a drop of magic to use. It seems more like it's responding to my magic than using it."

"I suggest you learn," Babbling said, passing him the runic sequence. "It's a very handy skill to have and it serves as a foundation for several magical skills. You can find information on the subject in the library."

"Thank you," Harry grinned. "A vial of blood well spent."

"Get out of here, rascal."

23rd September

Harry emerged from the floo and walked forward to greet his godfather.

"Welcome to Grimmauld Place, Harry," Sirius said, engulfing him in a hug.

"Sirius, I'm seriously getting bad vibes from this place," Harry said, looking around. The room looked like it was used to receive guests. An old Victorian set of furniture was arranged for guests, and a chandelier hung from the ceiling. Although it looked clean enough, there were signs of neglect. The wallpaper was peeling in some places, and the carpet was worn down, exposing the floorboards.

The ominous feeling didn't come from its outward appearance, however. There was an air of oppression and madness permeating the house. Not to mention the uneasy feeling that something was watching him.

"You are not wrong," Sirius grimaced. "I haven't made much progress in cleaning the house. It has been neglected for over a decade, and all sorts of nasty creatures have taken up residence."

"Burn it to the ground," Harry suggested.

"The thought has crossed my mind more than once," Sirius admitted.

Daphne emerged from the floo and walked over. She was wearing teal-coloured robes and her hair was tied up in a plait. Harry couldn't help admiring her, since she looked so beautiful and poised. Sirius noticed his preoccupation and smirked, a mischievous look in his eyes. His godfather would probably tease him mercilessly later.

"Lord Black," Daphne curtsied when she drew near.

"You can call me Sirius, Miss Greengrass," he said, taking the hand she offered and brushing it with her lips. "At least until we arrive at the Wizengamot meeting."

"Is that your family crest?" Harry asked, pointing to the symbol she wore on her breast.

"That's right," Daphne said, brushing a stray hair out of her face. "Although we no longer have family magic, we still use it to represent our family. To change it now would raise some eyebrows."

"What is the creature?"

"The Greengrass's family magic was represented by a Forest Spirit," Daphne explained. "A magical creature that resembles a deer but has a human-like face. They were known to be able to spontaneously grow anything they came into contact with, which explains our family's reputation for growing plants."

"The grass is indeed greener on your side," Sirius quipped.

Harry groaned, and Daphne stared at the man, clearly unimpressed.

"Tough crowd," Sirius muttered.

"What about you, Sirius?" Daphne asked. "Are you going to abandon your family magic?"

"I wish I could," Sirius sighed. "But I don't feel like being petrified for the next twenty years. If only I could convince my crazy cousin, Bellatrix, to meet with Modor instead."

"It's not like it would change anything," Harry laughed. "Even without family magic, you are batshit crazy."

"You better sleep with one eye open the next time you stay over," Sirius threatened.

His grandparents came through the floo next, and they stood next to their grandson. Charlus looked particularly formidable, wearing grey robes that were a cross between formal and duelling attire. The robes had a high neck collar that reminded Harry of Count Dracula.

"Hello, Grandad," Harry said. "You look like you are going to war. Or to feast on someone's blood."

"Yes, there are some morons in the Ministry who should be bloodied," Charlus said, completely missing the reference. A shimmering cloak hung from his arm, which Harry recognised immediately.

"Charlus," Minerva said disapprovingly as her husband donned the Invisibility Cloak.

"I just want to scare a few people," Charlus said seemingly from nowhere.

"Gramps is going to play a prank," Sirius said excitedly. "I will show you to the dining room. Some of the other guests have already arrived."

They followed him out of the room and down the hallway. This interior decoration was clearly designed by someone with a morbid sense of aesthetics. The house was dark, the prevailing colour scheme consisting of several shades of black, grey, and deep blue.

"There used to be a portrait of my mother here," Sirius said, pointing to a section of the wall. "Thankfully, I discovered a way to banish that banshee to the depths of the basement. I think I made Kreacher cry."

"Kreacher?" Harry asked.

"He's the Black family house-elf," Sirius said, shuddering. "He is probably watching us right now. Bloody menace."

They entered an opulent dining room where a large dining table was occupying most of the space. There were several people here already, some of whom were familiar. Lauren and Remus were there and waved when they saw him enter.

"Harry!" Astoria called, leaving her parent's side and rushing toward him. Harry braced himself as she slammed into him, burying her head in his chest.

"How's it going, brother-in-law?" Astoria asked impishly, looking up at him.

"Astoria," Daphne warned.

"Hello, midget. It's good...Oof." An unknown girl had crashed into him.

Harry stared at the unfamiliar girl in bewilderment. Like Astoria, she had wrapped her arms around him like they were old friends. Getting hugged by a stranger was a new experience for him.

"I saw Astoria hugging you, and I thought it looked like fun," the blonde-haired waif said dreamily.

"Um…Hello?"

"Was it too soon?"

"What is going on?" Harry groaned.

"This is Luna Lovegood," Astoria said, smiling. "My best friend. She is kind of strange but very nice."

"I could try being the complete opposite," Luna mused. "I could be a real bitch as well while being completely ordinary. I wonder which would be worse."

Somehow, it felt strange for her to utter an expletive. Perhaps it was her utter guilelessness. She was certainly an oddball, judging by the necklace of butterbeer caps she wore around her neck. It contrasted jarringly with her traditional yellow robes.

Harry extracted himself from the girl's arms and sidled up to his girlfriend. "Help me," he whispered.

"Sorry," Daphne smirked. "I have to go see my parents."

Harry watched her walk off, before turning back to the two girls. They were staring at him with identical smiles as if they were planning to hug him again.

"Mr Potter."

Harry turned around to see a man standing there, immediately recognising him as Luna's father. He shared the same pale blond hair and whimsical demeanour with his daughter.

"How can I help you, sir?"

"Xenophillius Lovegood. I was happy to hear that you were still alive."

"Thanks."

"It should come as no surprise," Xenophillius leaned forward and whispered. "You are the Master Of Death, after all."

"What?"

After uttering such a strange statement, Lovegood walked away. Befuddled, Harry felt like he had entered the twilight zone.

Over the next twenty minutes, several more people arrived, all dressed in formal attire for the upcoming Wizengamot meeting. Harry was surprised to see Susan and Hannah there, along with her aunt and Hannah's parents. They joined the rest of the teenagers that gathered at one end of the table.

"Why didn't you say you were going to be here?" Daphne demanded.

"My Aunt only told me a week ago that we would be joining an alliance with your family," Susan said apologetically. "I was told to not say anything."

"Same for me," Hannah said.

Another familiar face, Violet Rosier, caught his attention. She was followed by a man in his mid-to-late twenties.

"Hello, Heir Potter-Black," Violet greeted him, using his official title.

"Lady Rosier," Harry said, letting his training take over. "Don't you have classes to teach today?"

Daphne had spent some time teaching him some etiquette after she found out they were attending the Wizengamot meeting. It was a painful process. Thankfully, he didn't have to kiss her hand. Only if the lady offered her hand did you have to observe the niceties.

"Headmaster Flitwick is covering for me. I would like to introduce you to my nephew, Lord Rosier, Head of the Rosier Family."

"Well met, Heir Potter-Black," Felix said in a deep voice, offering his hand.

"Lord Rosier," Harry greeted him.

"Call me Felix," he corrected.

"Then please call me, Hadrian," Harry said. That was another thing that Daphne had beat into him. To use his official name on formal occasions.

Lord Rosier was a handsome man with short black hair, sharing some of his aunt's aristocratic features. His expression indicated that he was not very comfortable being here, looking at the exit frequently as if wanting to leave.

"Felix would prefer to be working than be forced to attend the Wizengamot meeting," Violet said. "He is not much for social gatherings."

"What is it that you do, Lord Rosier?" Harry asked politely.

"I am a Dragonolgist," Felix said, elaborating when Harry sent him a confused look. "A Magizoologist that specialises in the study of dragons."

Luna appeared seemingly out of nowhere after he shared that information and started bombarding Felix with questions, but he didn't seem to mind.

A clinking of glass sounded, and everyone turned to see Minerva standing at the head of the table, holding a wine glass. Ever since they entered the room, she had taken charge of the proceedings, while his grandfather kept out of sight.

"Thank you all for agreeing to meet here before we head to the Wizengamot meeting," Minerva started.

"Bit of gloomy place to meet, isn't it?" Lord Abbot joked.

"I offered my manor, but I was turned down," Lord Greengrass sighed.

"You are welcome to ridicule the house," Sirius said, raising a glass. "I hate it as well."

"It is not in the best condition," Minerva admitted. "It will undergo a complete makeover soon. The reason we are using Grimmauld Place today is that we will be using it as the official headquarters for our alliance in the future. It is very secure, so we don't have to worry about others learning any secrets we discuss here."

"Why are the children here?" An unfamiliar man asked. "They won't be taking part in any serious matters, will they? "

"No, Lord Harrington," Minerva said. "They will be joining us in the Wizengamot chambers today to gain some experience. Furthermore, today is going to be a monumental occasion, so they deserve to witness it."

"You mean the forming of the alliance?" Madam Bones asked sceptically. "It's not something we are going to be announcing to the world. It will be obvious to those within the Ministry what it actually means, but no need to advertise it."

Minerva took a deep breath. "It's not that at all. For the past few weeks, I have been keeping a secret from you. It may come as a huge shock to some of you."

"What is it?" Lord Odgen asked impatiently.

"You were always impatient my old friend," a voice whispered in his ear, causing him to scream.

Many of the people in attendance drew back in caution. Some adults were quick to act and stepped in front of the teenagers, protecting them.

"Who is there?" Madam Bones growled, summoning her wand.

Charlus removed his Invisibility Cloak, revealing himself to the astonished gathering of witches and wizards. Madam Bones didn't lower her wand but kept it pointed at him. Sirius was laughing, enjoying the uproar the old man had caused.

"Charlus Potter!" a few people exclaimed.

"What the hell is going on?" Madam Bones demanded.

"Hello, everyone," Charlus smoothed down his robes. "Madam Bones, I pose no threat to you. I would appreciate it if you holstered your wand."

Charlus walked over to stand beside his wife. He raised his hand displaying the Lord's ring on his finger. The Potter crest on it was unmistakable.

"I understand that you are confused," Charlus said."But contrary to the official record, Voldemort didn't kill me as he led you to believe."

"Don't say his name," Lady Abbot said in fright.

"It is only a name," Charlus growled. "The upstart wannabe lord no longer exists. Refusing to speak his name is for cowards."

"You weren't here for the worst of it," Lord Abbot argued, speaking up for his wife. "You don't understand."

"I understand that if I had not been indisposed, I wouldn't have stood by as that madman wreaked havoc on our community. Maybe my son and daughter-in-law would be alive today."

"That's a sentiment I can get behind," Madam Bones replied. "Where have you been all this time?"

"I was caught in a very nasty petrification curse while exploring one of the abandoned Potter properties. I have been petrified for the last seventeen years, and was only released a few months ago."

It was a simple explanation that they had come up with to avoid explaining the real reason why he had been absent. Many wizards and witches, including those standing in this room, still regarded Modor, or Mother Magic, with great respect. No need to alienate them without any real proof that she wasn't the benevolent deity they believed she was. The story sounded unbelievable, but how else was he going to explain an absence of seventeen years? Furthermore, Charlus didn't appear to have aged a day.

"Now that we have got that out of the way," Charlus said. "I want to discuss the reason we are all here. My wife chose you for the alliance specifically for two reasons. One, you can be trusted. That is very important to me, as I have been betrayed in the past. The other reason is that you are tired of the extreme views and behaviour that come from the Dark and Light factions.

"While our numbers alone cannot change society for the better, I hope we can gain some more allies after today's Wizengamot meeting. In addition, I would like to use this opportunity to further damage Dumbledore's reputation, so that he can never think of crawling back into our magical community. Here is what I have planned…"

The Wizengamot was officially in session. The doors of the chambers were shut and sealed with several imposing Wards. Those attending today were the backbone of the British magical society, so it was important that the room was secure from outside threats. There had been an attack on the chambers a few centuries ago that spilt a lot of magical blood.

Harry sat with the girls and his grandfather in the visitor's gallery. As a precaution, Charlus wore a wig and some glasses to conceal his identity until he was ready to reveal himself. His wife was seated alongside her peers in the elevated seating area for the Wizengamot members. Minerva had no interest in politics and only participated in compulsory meetings in the past, which was why she was happy to hand back the seat to her husband.

Harry watched the activity below with interest. Even though he shared his grandmother's disinterest in politics, he could not help but admit that there was something captivating about the pomp and ceremony of the Wizengamot on display.

It was housed in Courtroom One, within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Here, proposals for legislation were brought forth before the members and voted upon. The Wizengamot was also the high court of law in the magical community, and its members judged Dark wizards, criminals, offenders, and lawbreakers. Although, it usually only presided over the most high-profile cases.

Since it was predominantly made up of noble houses, they also used it as a place to make official announcements. It could include notifying the public of family births and deaths, disinheriting a family member, or declaring feuds.

The Wizengamot members occupied fifty seats, a combination of hereditary and merit seats. Originally, it started out as only hereditary, but a lot of noble families had died out over the past few centuries, leaving the seats vacant. They made up the numbers by either elevating another family to a seat or giving it to a person who had served the wizarding community with distinction, such as an Order of Merlin recipient.

The Minister, the Senior Undersecretary, and Department Heads all received a seat as ex officio members, meaning they got them as a result of their position. It meant that there were fifty-nine votes in total.

"It's starting," Daphne said, leaning forward in excitement.

All eyes turned to the front, where the Ministry members were seated. As opposed to the fifty official members, who wore plum-coloured robes, they wore black robes instead. The Chief Warlock stood prominently at the front, standing on a raised platform. It would be his responsibility to preside over the meeting.

"I, Chief Warlock Elphias Doge, hereby declare the commencement of the 1876th Wizengamot meeting. First of all, let's give the members of the Wizengamot the chance to make any official announcements."

Minerva immediately stood and the Chief Warlock pointed to her.

"Madam Potter, you have the floor," Chief Doge said reluctantly.

"Dumbledore's stooge," Charlus muttered.

"For the last seventeen years, I have occupied this seat," Minerva began, "since my husband, Lord Potter, was murdered by the Dark Lord, Voldemort."

Mutterings filled the chamber at the sound of the Dark Lord's name, but Minerva ignored them.

"I only discovered a few months ago that he lied," Minerva said, pausing for effect. "It is with great joy that I return the family seat to my husband, Lord Charlus Potter!"

Charlus removed his disguise and stood up amongst the commotion that had arisen from Madam Potter's bombshell. The members of the Wizengamot were making a lot of noise. Some had stood to shake their fists at Madam Potter, and Harry took note of them. If there was a chance, then he would prank them in the future. How dare they show his grandmother disrespect.

Doge was trying to restore order, but he was unable to command a room, unlike his predecessor. It looked like Minister Fudge was going to stand and take over, breaking protocol, but he never got the chance.

The noise in the chamber immediately ceased as Charlus emerged from the visitor's gallery and strode towards his seat. Minerva sent him a smile as she passed him, heading towards the visitors' gallery.

"I have returned," Charlus stated simply. He held up a hand before he was bombarded with questions. "Let me explain why I have been missing for the past seventeen years. Chief Warlock, do I have the floor?"

Doge was staring, mouth agape, looking as if he had swallowed a lemon. He finally broke out of his stupor when Minister Fudge gestured to him.

"You have the floor, Lord Potter," Doge stuttered.

"Thank you," Charlus stated before he began repeating his story about his ordeal. Everyone listened with rapt attention, not daring to interrupt until he was finished.

"We are glad to see that you are alive, Lord Potter," Minister Fudge said, rising from his seat. "We have already lost so many magical families to the last war."

"Thank you," Charlus said simply.

"I would also like to say that it is wonderful that your grandson is alive as well. We all owe him a debt of gratitude for his heroic actions in stopping the Dark Lord. I believe he is here today?" Fudge said, glancing over at the visitors' gallery.

"Fudge sure knows how to take advantage of any situation in order to gain some clout," Daphne commented.

"He speaks as if I personally took up arms against Voldemort as a baby," Harry said incredulously.

"It does sound ridiculous," Susan agreed.

"What a brown-noser," Astoria declared, causing everyone to laugh.

"Hadrian is here," Charlus confirmed. "I suppose it is not really necessary, but I would like to officially announce that my grandson, Hadrian Potter, is my Heir."

Murmurs of congratulations rang through the chambers.

Doge cleared his throat. "Was there anything else you would like to say, Lord Potter?"

"There is something," Charlus said, his voice rising with emotion. "Albus Dumbledore has wronged my family. What he did to my grandson and wife is unforgivable. I know what step I would like to take to appease my anger. However…."

Charlus glanced at the Dumbledore family seat, where his brother, Aberforth Dumbledore sat frozen, anticipating that Charlus was going to come after him to satisfy his vengeance. He had taken over the Head of the Dumbledore family when his brother was ousted as a criminal. While Albus had been serving as Chief Warlock, it had been Elphias Doge that represented the Dumbledore seat since he was unable to do both.

"I do not wish to declare a feud with the Dumbledore family because I do not hold your brother's actions against you Lord Dumbledore," Charlus said seriously. "However, there must be accountability. I request that you strike Albus Dumbledore's name from the family. Otherwise…"

Charlus didn't finish the sentence, but the implications were clear.

Aberfoth rose from his seat. "I don't need much convincing, Lord Potter. I am absolutely disgusted by my brother's actions. Chief Warlock, may I raise my wand to make a declaration?"

Doge nodded wordlessly. It was not like he could argue with what Lord Dumbledore intended.

"I, Lord Dumbledore, hereby cast Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore from the Dumbledore family for his crimes against the Potter family and the British magical community. Henceforth, he shall be known as Albus No-Name. So mote it be."

Later that day, the Daily Prophet and Quibbler published a special edition. They featured an article that was written by a reporter named Lauren Raleigh. This article discussed Albus No-Name's true relationship with Grindelwald and cast some doubt on whether the Dark Lord was killed by him.

The smear campaign against Albus No-Name had begun.

So, what do you think? Dumbledore is likely to have a stroke when he reads the newspaper.

Thanks for reading.