A/N- Harry's training with Charlus in this chapter began to sound very familiar to me, and I realized his background is very close to the Charlus in the stories written by TheBlack'sResurgence. I thought about changing it, but realized I like the backstory, and that's likely because I love those stories so much. I reached out to him when I realized, and he gave me the go ahead to use his character. Go read his stories. They're wayyyy better than this one.
Chapter 8
July 12, 1995
Harry, Sirius, and Remus were able to get what they needed from Grimmauld Place fairly quickly, the Potter elves' helping as only they could. The magically-renovated townhouse had fallen into complete disrepair in its time spent vacant. Its only occupant, a demented old house elf named Kreacher, had neglected his duty for years. Besides what little he did while Sirius lived there briefly in the last year, the only part of the house he regularly cleaned was the portrait of Sirius' mother. A quick order from Sirius relit the fire in the elf, and Kreacher nastily promised he would restore the property.
Sirius, not wanting to be in the house any longer than necessary, grabbed the family grimoire from his Grandfather's office, along with a few odds and ends, and apparated back to Potter Manor. Dobby helped Remus carefully remove the entire library and sent it to the attic at home to be sorted through when time allowed.
Harry, bowing respectfully, was able to approach Buckbeak, who seemed to remember the boy who once flew on his back. The hippogriff snorted almost sarcastically when Harry asked if he'd prefer to live on the grounds of Potter Manor, and Harry quickly called for Pocky to transport the animal to the stables, vowing to visit him soon.
They were in and out within an hour, and each wizard was so emotionally drained they all collapsed into bed upon their return. For Harry, the sleep was blissful.
—
Harry entered his uncle's office confidently. He had spent a lot of time with the man over his period on the other side, and had grown to enjoy the man's company. He was a witty, sarcastic, and dark-humored man, but he was much more caring and loving than his best friend Arcturus seemed to be.
"Hello Harry," the man said, looking up from the book he was reading. "Don't sit down, we're outside today."
Harry nodded, leading the way. His training with the man took shape in one of two ways: theory and practice. Charlus had led the magical forces of Britain during the war against Grindelwald, and was a fount of knowledge on battlefield tactics and warfare. He didn't often speak of his time on the continent, but when he did, it was to explain certain theoretical work he was teaching the boy. What the man had been through was shocking.
Harry found the theoretical lessons interesting, and knew it would be useful, but he'd always enjoyed learning magic more than information. He quickly arrived at their usual training grounds and began to stretch. His uncle, following a moment later, fired a quick curse at the boy, which he managed to dodge deftly. Charlus seemed to follow the Alastor Moody doctrine of preparedness, and Harry had grown used to the frequent attacks.
"Good," the man said with a nod, as Harry finished his stretches. The stretching may have been pointless in Harry's current state, but Charlus had told him it was a good habit to get into.
"Which combat spell are you most familiar with?"
"On this side, I'm not sure I have just one. I feel good about a lot of them. I've been practicing with Dad a lot."
"And before you got here?" the man continued curiously.
"Expelliarmus," the boy responded after a moment's thought. "We haven't really learned many combat spells yet."
"Any spell can be used combatively," Charlus said, repeating a lesson that Harry had heard often throughout their training. "But today I want to focus on a single one. The stinging hex."
Harry couldn't hold in his scoff, confused as to why he would need to practice that spell alone.
"Laugh if you want, boy," the man said with a smile. "Let me show you why. We two will duel. You may use any spell in your arsenal, including the lethal ones, and I will restrict myself to the stinging hex alone."
Harry, liking the idea of having a leg up on the man for once, smirked cockily. He knew that even if he used the Killing Curse, lethal or dangerous spells had no real effect here. Without asking for clarification the boy bowed confidently, his eyes not leaving his rival.
Charlus returned the bow, a knowing grin on his face, and the two prepared themselves. Harry decided to start cautiously, and began with the disarming charm.
As he raised his wand, however, his hand was hit with a stinging hex fired from a wand pointed at him, but from down by the man's waist. Harry, surprised but determined, shook his head and slowly circled to the left. "Stupef–" he cried, unable to finish the spell, clutching his throbbing knee.
He'd been hit with a second stinging hex, and his uncle had yet to move, say an incantation, or stop smiling. Harry, realizing he'd been set up, quickly formed a plan.
He began moving back and forth wildly, changing direction as often as possible. As he focused on being unpredictable, he raised his wand. "Bombarda!" he yelled, not slowing down his erratic movement.
His uncle was finally forced to move, turning slightly to the left, letting the spell fly past. Harry's frustration quickly had salt rubbed into the wound when he was clipped on the calf by a third stinging hex.
"Enough," his uncle called, gesturing the boy over to him. "What went wrong?"
"You manipulated me," the boy answered grumpily, before taking a breath and rephrasing. "I allowed myself to be manipulated."
"Indeed," Charlus said with a smile. "You were overconfident and underprepared. Why do you think I chose the stinging hex?"
"Because you can cast it silently?"
"I can cast most spells silently," Charlus disagreed gently. "As you will be able to if you put your mind to it."
"No wand movements?"
"That's closer. Harry, when Arcturus and I were on the continent, there was a man who led part of Grindelwald's army. His name was Luca– something. I don't remember. He was a monstrous man, almost seven feet tall, and strong. Both physically and magically. He would lay waste to entire squads of his enemies with a single spell, and broke through our defensive lines multiple times, just to show he could. He was that good."
"What did you do about him?"
"What I did to you," the man said simply.
"You stung him?"
"Many times," Charlus acknowledged. "The spells he used were massive, and the bigger the spell, the longer it usually takes to cast properly. He was so intent on causing huge amounts of damage, that I simply interrupted every spell before he could finish them. The stinging hex is nonverbal, all it requires is a point to the target, and as you can attest to, it stings.
"Imagine trying to cast a Patronus, or a Killing Curse, both of which are verbal, but halfway through your incantation you get stung in the nuts. It's enough to disrupt someone's spell, and their train of thought, and easy enough that it can be done quickly and effectively."
Harry nodded, imagining Draco Malfoy trying to cast whatever new dark spell he had learned over the summer, just to continually catch a stinger to the forehead instead.
"What happened in your duel?"
"I killed him. He had murdered, raped, and tortured all over Europe by this point. He was number two on ICW's most wanted, and he was destroying our force's morale and numbers. I fought him for over an hour when I finally found him, not letting him get a single spell off. I stung him probably a hundred times. When I felt like he had suffered enough, and his men had seen his humiliation, I took his head. I then transfigured it into an explosive, and cast it into the enemy's trenches."
The man had a far-away look in his eyes, and Harry thought better of interrupting.
"When you find yourself in a fight," the man finally continued, looking Harry directly in the eyes. "You don't hesitate. You do what you have to to win, no matter what. There's no such thing as fighting dirty. There's only winning. Do you understand?"
Harry, seeing the bit of hypocrisy in the statement that followed the story, knew better than to mention it. He understood what Charlus was trying to get across. "Yes sir."
"I'm glad. Now go practice with James," the man said, turning away. "I'd like to speak to my wife."
—
"You're sure you got the potion right?" Sirius asked with concern.
"Even if I didn't," Remus answered with a tired smile. "It's too late now."
"God I hate this. You sure I can't stay with you?"
"Not this time, Padfoot. Once we figure out the wards on the forest, we'll go howl at the moon, okay?"
"Okay," the worried man responded with a sigh. "If the Wolfsbane doesn't work, this room is secure."
"I know," the man replied calmly, clearly feeling uncomfortable.
"There's meat in the corner, and some chairs for you to destroy if you feel like it."
"I know, Padfoot," Remus responded with another smile. "I placed the wards, and set the room up."
"Okay! Okay. Is there anything else you need?"
"I need you to talk to Harry," the man said seriously, moving deeper into the room and sitting against the padded wall. Shooting his friend a pointed look, he continued, "I mean it."
"I know. Once I make sure the potion works, I'll take him flying."
"Good. Now get out of here. I'm sure you'll be able to hear if it worked."
Sirius watched as the man began to transform, cringing at how painful it looked. He quickly exited the reinforced bedroom, and activated the locks on the door. Without moving a muscle, he listened for his friend. The fact that Remus had the pain tolerance to transform in silence these days was heartbreaking.
After a long two minutes, he finally heard a soft 'woof', and the sound of a werewolf pushing wooden chairs around the floor to where he wanted them.
"Sounds like it worked."
Sirius jumped at the voice, spinning quickly to see the concerned face of his godson. "Sounds like it."
"He'll be okay."
"I know he will, Harry. It's just.." the man trailed off searching for the words. "I missed twelve years of his transformations. I was miserable every time I saw a full moon in prison. And that's saying something since my usual state of being was depressed. I want to be there for him."
"You will be," Harry said gently. "The timing was a bit tough for this one, but we'll prioritize the wards this week. I'll ask Bill to help."
Sirius nodded gratefully, finally stepping away from the door.
"So we're talking tonight, huh?"
"You little sneak."
"Secrets, secrets are no fun," the boy sang mockingly. "Let's do it. Maybe Buckbeak will join."
The two made their way out of the Manor and towards the broom shed at one end of the quidditch pitch to the north. Sirius sent one last worried glance to the heavily warded third floor window of Moony's room, before accepting the broom Harry had offered him.
They both took off, not bothering to stick to the constraints of the pitch. Sure enough, the much happier hippogriff quickly joined them, playfully swirling around them as they cruised in the cool night air. The animal eventually left the pair, in favor of chasing the multitude of bats that were flitting throughout the property.
The property, Harry had been told by Charlus, was located in Strathmore, Scotland, and the valley was much larger than the muggles believed. Potter Manor's wards had allowed the property to go undetected by cartographers for centuries. And at some point in the last couple hundred years, more wards were added to deter any aircraft or aerial photography. As they headed north, Harry could just make out the silhouette of the Grampian Mountains in the bright moonlight.
The wizards eventually slowed to a hover, and Harry sidled up next to his Godfather.
"I really love it here," Harry said, feeling truly content for the first time in his life.
"Me too," Sirius responded with a smile.
"I'm sorry if I ran a bit roughshod when I came back. I never even asked if you had any plans."
"Yeah," Sirius snorted. "How dare you help me earn my freedom and whisk me away to a castle from a fairytale."
"It's not a castle," Harry defended with a smirk. "We could build one if you want to, though."
"Maybe one day," Sirius mused distractedly.
Harry watched as the man seemed to organize his thoughts. In the last few weeks Harry had been overwhelmed constantly, so he didn't begrudge the man for feeling the same. He'd wait all night if he had to. Clearly, Sirius had a lot on his mind. Eventually, the man turned to look at him.
"We don't have to do this, you know. We don't have to do any of this. The beach I went to after you busted me out of Hogwarts was beautiful. And completely remote. I didn't see another person my entire time there."
"It sounds nice," Harry agreed impartially. "I'd like to visit at some point. But you know I can't leave right now."
"Yeah," Sirius huffed. "But just say the word, and we'll grab Moony and split."
"Okay, Pads."
"If we're doing this, we have to do it right. We're likely going to be on the wrong side of the law until we figure out the Ministry."
"That's the plan. We'll do the work," Harry promised. "But hey, if worse comes to worst, I happen to know the only wizard to ever escape Azkaban. Might be able to get him to bust us out."
Sirius smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"And if I'm going to do this right," he continued sombrely. "I need to get past everything."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying I'll see the damn Healer, okay? Between my lovely upbringing, Marlene, and Azkaban, I know I'm a bit fucked up. I try not to be. And I try to keep it together for you and Moony. But you're right. I need help to get through it, or it's going to come back and bite me."
"It will," Harry agreed. "Pads, I can't imagine what you've been through, or how you're still standing. But I know that I'm beyond thankful for it. I couldn't do this without you."
"Yes you could, Harry. But I don't want you to. So we'll talk to a healer, and they'll tell me I feel inadequate because I'll never live up to the size of my manhood, and I use humor as a coping mechanism because I'm funny as shit and the world needs to hear it. Oh, and that my dreams of murdering my mother are healthy and normal."
"That third one may actually be accurate if they've ever met your mother," Harry cut in with a laugh. "Thank you, Pads. It's going to hurt like hell at first, but I promise it'll be worth it."
Sirius nodded, choosing to believe him. "You know what pisses me off, though? Of all the people that should be here doing this with you, why does it get to be me?"
"Get to, or have to?"
"Definitely get," the man replied without a thought. "James and Lily would've been great at this. Frank and Alice, even. Marlene would have been in her fucking element in all the chaos. Why am I here, and they can't be? It makes no fucking sense."
"Maybe Fate put you with me for a reason. Maybe you are actually the person that can help me the most, regardless of what you believe."
Sirius' head turned so fast he almost lost control of his broom, his eyes wild. "How could you know?"
Harry, unable to contain it, giggled through his hand, breaking the confusion in Sirius' eyes.
"God damnit, Harry," he realized with a groan. "I forgot you saw the messages first. You asshole."
"I was hoping you did," Harry said with a laugh. "It doesn't make it less true, though. You are the person I need right now. And Moony. Dumbledore and the others will help, for sure. But for me to stay sane? For me to not go nuts and blow up the Ministry? I'm going to need moments like this. I'm going to need you to pop my ego, and to goof off with. I'm going to need Moony to do his best to parent the both of us. I need you to be the person that keeps me grounded, and the person that has my back when shit hits the fan."
"Now, I don't know if I want to," Sirius whined petulantly. "Maybe I'll go find another 'chosen one' to help."
"Oh shut it," Harry said, intentionally knocking his broom into his Godfather's. "If you promise to not go all emotional, I'll tell you a little secret."
"Deal," he quickly promised with a grin.
"Mum and Dad's was the first message I 'recorded'. And it was spur of the moment. Marlene showed up right after, and was the second. She and Mum didn't talk about it beforehand."
"But they said the exact same thing," Sirius said in confusion.
"They did. 'Sirius, you're the one he needs now. Fate must have a hand in this. Nobody can do what you can for him, and he won't be able to do this without you. Don't let me down'," Harry quoted easily, giving it a moment to sink in. "I thought it was weird, too. They're right, you know."
Sirius looked at the boy floating alongside him, and nodded resolutely.
"Okay then. You get me, I guess. You and me. 'Til the end."
"Til the end, Pads," Harry responded with a smile.
The two began to make their way back to the house, having drifted pretty far during their talk. They detoured around to the stables to say goodnight to Buckbeak, who managed to catch a solid bedtime snack if the blood on his beak was any indication. The hippogriff happily wickered at them as they slowly flew past.
"Hey," Sirius said with a grin once they were clear of the area. "You met Pocky yet?"
"Yeah," Harry barked with laughter. "He's a dick."
"I like him!"
"Of course you do."
—
July 17, 1995
Harry's Saturday was spent with Hermione and Ron, who had come bearing gifts from Molly Weasley. Despite seeing that Harry had begun to put on weight, the mothering woman still wanted to make sure he had a surplus of food. He was thankful for her, despite the fact he didn't need the snacks.
Yesterday, a 'lazy Sunday', was spent in front of the TV watching movies, and out on the property enjoying the pleasant Scottish summer. The entire property had a climate control ward around it, ensuring they didn't share the worst of the weather with the rest of the Highlands.
Harry and compatriots continued to train together, and the almost-15-year-old was finally starting to feel a bit of growth in his power level. Bill also managed to finish off the forest wards after the training sessions. All in all, a successful few days.
Today, however, started dreadfully. A letter from the Ministry arrived with breakfast. It stated that at the coming Wizengamot Session on the twenty-fourth, Harry would be stripped of his seat, and his adulthood. And that the Ministry had apparently found a clause in the Charter that allowed the actions.
This really threw a wrench in Harry's plans, as it was at this session that Sirius had planned to take his seat. It was also the session where they had planned to nominate Mr. Weasley for the electable vacancy. Luckily, Daniel Greengrass was available for a quick meeting over lunch, to hopefully set Harry's mind at ease.
"It's bullshit," the man said bluntly, finishing off the last of his coffee. "I've seen the clause, and I've helped write other similar amendments, they're very specific. The clause only states that new members will not be able to take their seats if there is a clear case for 'instability, dissension within the family, or inability to perform the duties'. You've dusted the last two, so I assume they'll argue the first. It can also be argued that this stipulation refers only to the elected members."
"Fudge has been calling me unstable for over a year now, so yeah. I'd guess it's that one."
"For what?" the man asked, realizing they may have an issue.
"Sirius escaped Azkaban to find Pettigrew and try to protect me," Harry explained easily. "Me and my friends caught on, and learned the whole story. Nonsense ensued, with Sirius still finding himself in custody, so my friend Hermione and I broke him out."
"Why do I get the feeling 'nonsense ensued' left quite a bit to the imagination?"
"There was a small disagreement with a werewolf, and perhaps a tiny jump in time, and a hippogriff sentenced to death was set free," Harry said flippantly with a grin. "Typical schoolkid nonsense!"
"Harry," the man said, folding his napkin neatly and placing it on the table. "I am thoroughly pleased that you and my daughters remain mere acquaintances."
Harry laughed, understanding the father's point of view. "I don't blame you. Wait till you hear about my first and second years."
"Unless you killed someone, it couldn't get worse than messing with time."
At Harry's grimace, Daniel's jaw dropped. "You killed someone?"
"You talking 'bout Quirrell!?" Sirius called loudly from his seat on the floor of the den, doughnut hanging from his mouth. He'd bought a new Sega Saturn, and was obsessed with the thing.
"Yeah!" Harry called back with a roll of his eyes.
"Guy had it coming, Danny!"
"I don't like when he calls me Danny," Daniel muttered, his head beginning to hurt.
"Don't let him hear you say that," Harry offered quietly. "He'll call you nothing else."
"Is it lawyers, or Slytherins he has a problem with?"
"Both, Danny!" the man in question called in response. Greengrass rubbed his temples.
"I'll talk to him, Daniel," Harry said placatingly. "I need your help, and so does he. He's just a bit of a child sometimes."
"Who's got a 'wild bust-size'!?" Sirius hollered, not looking away from his game.
"Let's move this to my office," Harry offered, trying to hide his grin.
When the two had settled, and Winky served some tea, Harry continued with an apologetic smile.
"He does it on purpose. He thinks I'm too serious, and not taking advantage of being a kid."
"He's right, you know."
"Yeah maybe, but don't tell him that. Oh, and if you give him shit in return, he'll knock it off."
"Noted."
"So yeah, I may have killed a teacher, but it was self–defense, cut and dry. And I'm not sure the Ministry even heard now that I think about it." Harry added thoughtfully.
"Okay," the man replied, trying to move past the new information. "If the only thing the Ministry has to qualify you as 'unstable' is your claims about Sirius, we're in the clear. Obviously you were correct."
"They'll bring up Voldemort being back."
"Probably. How do you intend to handle it?"
"Oath on my magic?"
"No!" the man said quickly. "No, Harry. You can't keep using those things like tissues. While effective, it'll limit what you will be able to conceal in the future. Any time you don't take an Oath about something, or request veritaserum, everyone will know you're full of shit."
"Huh!" Harry replied, nodding in respect. "I never thought of that."
"That's because you're an honest young man. I appreciate that about you, but I have a feeling you don't plan to always be."
Harry said nothing, not wanting to incriminate himself, nor lie to the man.
Daniel smirked at the silence, deciding to move on. "So you claim Voldemort is back, Fudge disagrees and is going to use it to claim you're unstable."
The man was in full 'lawyer mode' and began pacing the room.
"How firm are you on that story?" he finally asked.
Harry recoiled a bit, and the man held his hands out calmly. "Not what I'm asking, Harry. I trust you completely, even if you hadn't given me an Oath on your magic in this very room."
Harry calmed himself, realizing he was out of his depth. He may have been trained to wield his political power, but Arcturus usually just bulldozed these little nuances. Harry didn't want to play that card until he had to.
"What I'm asking," Daniel continued, regaining his seat. "Is how firm you are on your story in regards to how it appeared to Fudge. A few minor tweaks could force the Wizengamot to see it as a difference of opinion as opposed to you flouting the adopted facts. 'What appeared to be the Dark Lord'.. 'What may have been some sort of homunculus'.
"Just a bit of uncertainty on your side of the story, would allow for people to see that you aren't rigidly believing things that they 'know' are wrong, but merely bringing information to the Chamber. To my recollection, you haven't once mentioned, in session, that the Dark Lord is back."
"I haven't. My priority was getting Sirius freed. I only mentioned it to Fudge when he and Malfoy came to take Pettigrew from Hogwarts."
"Then you don't believe it, at the moment, Harry," Daniel said gently, knowing the boy wouldn't like it. "You were 'exhausted after your long evening'. You can skirt the lines a bit, and tell your story, but do so without certainty. They expect you to be a typical Gryffindor fifth year, no offense. They plan to make you respond with anger."
Harry, not feeling good about it, saw the sense all the same. "So we speak in hypotheticals until Voldemort makes his move. And that's all it takes?"
"In the eyes of the law, yes. You, Sirius, and whoever else knows use a little political obfuscation. Play 'the game' as it is, and if you're proven right, it will only help you."
"Once I'm proven right," Harry retorted darkly. "It'll be because war is upon us."
"A poor choice of words on my part," Daniel replied quickly, remorse in his eyes.
"No, I'm sorry Daniel," Harry apologized quickly. "I was out of line. You're right, and I'll do it. Thank you. I would've been lost in the weeds if you hadn't come over."
"Look, Harry," the man said, returning to his chair and scooting it towards Harry's. "You know I believe you. I'm just trying to get us past this logistical hurdle so you can retain the power to do some good."
"I know you are, and I appreciate it. Play dumb until we get where we have to be in order to make a power move."
"Exactly."
Harry, thinking quickly, realized something.
"How do the rights of conquest work in the Wizengamot? Arcturus mentioned that they still existed, but was unsure of the minutiae."
"They remain unchanged. Why?"
"So if Voldemort is dead, and I killed him on behalf of the 'Light', I earn the rights to anything of value his family may have?"
"You do, but I doubt the Dark Lord has a Gringotts vault."
"No, but the Wizengamot does."
—
July 24, 1995
Harry decided not to be unnecessarily irreverent, and sat in the 'traditional' Potter seat, though he would have much rather been in the visitor's gallery with Sirius. The man had even brought popcorn. As Albus gaveled the session into order, Harry hid a smile as the 'visitor' blew a loud raspberry simultaneously. If the Wizengamot hated Harry, they weren't going to know what to do with themselves when Sirius took his seat.
Harry tuned back in as Fudge was listing the myriad reasons the Potter Lord was unfit. Harry smirked when the man mentioned him claiming Sirius was innocent, knowing it would work against him. Whoever wrote his statement had just committed a fatal error.
"The boy and his friends had the audacity at the age of thirteen, to tell the Minister for Magic that they knew better, and that a dangerous known criminal was innocent. His immaturity, blatant disregard for public safety, and his refusal to accept fact make the boy unfit for the seat. I have the full weight of the Ministry behind me as I demand he be removed!" the Minister finished with a flourish.
Harry was heartened to see the applause for the statement was limited. Lucius and his cronies stood and applauded, as did the same middle-aged witch he noticed last time from her seat next to Fudge. He took note of the sycophants, and prepared to defend himself.
Before he could stand, however, he was once more beaten to the punch by Lord Greengrass. The man didn't meet his eyes as he stood to address the Chamber. Intentionally, Harry realized. If there was a hint that they were connected in any way, except casually as colleagues, his statement would be tainted. Grateful to the man, Harry made sure to pay attention.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Wizengamot," the man began, in full 'lawyer-mode'. "I appreciate our Minister's passion. I don't know I've ever seen him speak with such vehemence."
Daniel paused to smile at the man, though all in the chamber could see that it was forced.
"You all know me," the man continued, his voice growing cold. Most faces seemed to disagree, but Harry knew the statement was purely for effect. "I don't often ask to be recognized in this Chamber, and I don't appreciate being forced to today."
"In my time as a barrister, I've had many clients. I've argued hundreds of cases, and prepared countless statements for those cases."
Daniel paused to sip from his glass of water, and Harry wondered where the man was going with this. He had a feeling it was nowhere good for the Minister.
"In all that time," he continued. "And all those statements, I've never heard something so blatantly libelous read aloud in this Chamber. Sirius Black is innocent, as voted on by the vast majority of this body not more than a month ago. Yet, whichever moron you allowed to write your remarks, Minister," Harry watched the simpering woman on Fudge's right quickly flush. "Has caused you to slander the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."
Daniel paused, clearly expecting the whispers that broke out. Fudge's eyes were like saucers as he turned to speak softly with Lucius Malfoy, who was seated behind him. After a moment, Fudge stood and turned back towards Daniel.
"Lord Greengrass, if I may," the man began with an overly friendly smile.
"You may not, Minister," the man hissed, rapping his family ring loudly against the bannister in front of him, emphasizing the point.
His voice was no louder than it would have been over breakfast, but it carried throughout the Chamber powerfully. Fudge, to his credit, didn't redden in embarrassment, though he did return to his seat so quickly that it squealed jarringly against the stone floor.
"Not content to offend just one of the Eight families, the Minister has come far too close to slandering the Potter family, as well. We've all seen the young Lord Potter's method of handling such offense, and I shudder at the thought of our esteemed Minister being called out for his words."
The Chamber was once again full of urgent and surprised whispers, which Daniel patiently waited to quieten.
"Chief Warlock," he continued once silence returned. "I believe we require a short recess as Mr. Fudge prepares an apology." Now, the Minister's face did redden, and Albus nodded seriously. "Lord Potter, if you would be so kind as to join me in my office, I believe it is time we spoke."
Harry nodded seriously to the man, humbled by his performance, and watched as Daniel left the room, his gait clearly expressing his fury.
"We shall reconvene in twenty minutes," Dumbledore said quietly into the silence of the Chamber, banging his gavel lightly.
