Dear Mum and Dad…if that's who you actually are to me!

It's me, your daughter Hermione, and I'm going to be very forthright here. If you lie, at all, even a tiny bit, in your response to this letter, I am going to consider myself no longer your daughter. I am that pissed and it is that serious. We recently had a run in with our groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid. Hagrid proceeded to reveal he was an MI6 agent, tried to frame me for smuggling a basilisk, attacked an Auror, and then told me you were Russian spies. And to make matters even worse, he told me MI6 is going to place a kill order on me, because apparently they think I'm a Russian spy. I'm uninjured and Hagrid was arrested, but I could very easily have been hurt or even killed. And I think I deserve answers.

Now I'll be the first to admit all of this sounds preposterously far fetched, the sort of thing that only happens in crack fanfics written some…quack of a writer. Or maybe something Harry would have made up. And trust me, no one would be happier than I if that turns out to be the case, if all of this was just a paranoid delusion of Hagrid's. A part of me wants to just pretend this never happened and tumble headfirst into a bubble of denial. But I can't, because that's not how I'm built. It is, ironically, not the person you taught me to be.

Hagrid gave very specific details about assassinations that took place while we were on holidays. I've cross referenced all the holidays we've ever taken with suspicious deaths of Russian dissidents or other people who might be plausible FSB targets. And guess what? Well, you don't have to guess. You know that every single one has an overlap. You made me your alibi to murder people! Innocent people! Who had families! Who just wanted their country to be free from tyranny! I can't believe it's a coincidence, not with so many different examples.

Please, please give me an explanation. Please help me make this make sense. And also could you please get that kill order on me removed, because I am freaking out right now! For all I know, there'll be assassins waiting for me the moment I step out into King's Cross when school ends. And I won't be able to use any magic against them without getting arrested.

Sincerely,

Hermione

Dear Hermione,

This information is too sensitive to put into a letter and, frankly, you should have waited until we saw each other during Easter Break to address the matter in person. Though we do understand quite well why you did not.

No matter what happens, no matter what you learn about us, no matter how many lies we've told, we need you to know this: the one thing we have never lied about is how much we love you. You are our daughter and you are the most precious thing in the world to us. We love you with all our hearts.

We will see you at break. And if you don't feel safe with us after we've told you everything, if you want to spend the summer with the Weasleys, we'll be very sad, but we will understand and facilitate it if you wish.

Love,

Mum and Dad

Dear Harry,

If you breathe a word of anything I'm writing to you on your blog, we'll no longer be friends. I'm serious. I know that for some reason you have no compunctions about revealing your own crimes on the blog and for some reason you have probably literally magically received no repercussions for doing so. But this is my family at stake here and you will leave my parents' little…er, side hustle as it were, out of it.

At the beginning of the break, my parents picked me up as usual at King's Cross station and they looked just as they usually do, the perfect image of upper middle class dental professionals. But I knew the truth now. It was just an act. My parents murder people for a warmongering, homophobic, totalitarian dictatorship. And there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't turn them in because MI6 wants me dead too. If they wanted to murder me, they'd be able to get away with it. And as usual, they brought me to our house. Except now it all looked so fake. In retrospect, all the Union Jacks everywhere was obviously them overcompensating.

The two of them led me to their office and it turns out they have a secret room in there! And, well, I'm not going to lie to you. It was pretty cool. Top of the line computers and surveillance equipment, heavy weapons lining the walls, thick steel walls that could probably stave off a nuclear blast.

I sat down on one of their swanky swivel chairs – seriously, they have amazing taste in furniture – and crossed my arms at them. "Talk."

"Hermione, you have to understand, we never wanted you to find out," Dad said, still talking in that normal, perfectly British, utterly fake voice of his.

"Talk to me like yourself," I spat back at him.

Dad gave me a rueful smile and then, in a Russian accent, "All right, then, Hermione. Cards on the table. My name is Eduard Hamm and your mother's name is Kat Lesic. I grew up in Murmansk. Your mother grew up in Samara. We joined the FSB roughly at the same time. We quickly fell in love and got married."

"We were sent here on a long term, deep cover mission," Mum said. "Our dental practice is real. Our primary objective is to ingratiate ourselves with as many important politicians as possible. Since Prime Minister Islington-Lennox took office fifteen years ago, he's been pursuing an aggressive agenda, expanding the Trident program, and making increasingly loud noises about returning Britain's former colonies to the motherland. Our president is concerned he may turn his attention towards Russia."

I pointed a finger at them. "Your president got elected through fraud, has murdered everyone who could possibly oppose him, and started a war that's killed hundreds of thousands of people!"

"This is not about morality, Hermione," Dad said patiently. "Islington-Lennox is becoming increasingly detached from reality and is bent on returning the British Empire. Given that he has access to nuclear missiles, we have a responsibility to humanity to slow him down by any means possible."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My parents, who'd taught me to be honorable and righteous, were just shrugging off the fact they had murdered people. "That man you killed in Valetta has nothing to do with Islington-Lennox! He spoke out about atrocities your country committed in Ukraine."

"We're not going to pretend to be the good guys here, Hermione," Mum said. "We're the best at what we do and we're proud of it. Sure, we could say no when we're asked to kill people, but being dentists is so boring without a little murder to spice things up."

My mouth dropped open. "You're a bunch of sociopaths!"

"I don't think we are," Dad said contemplatively. "We don't really check too many of the boxes for antisocial personality disorder. If you're referring to the fact we kill people without remorse, if you think Islington-Lennox doesn't have people doing exactly the same thing as us, you couldn't be more wrong."

"And you just…don't care?!" I shouted. "You enjoy seeing them dead? Is that…is that why I'm like this?!" I paled. I had not meant for those words to leave my mouth, for them to ever leave my mouth.

Mum looked genuinely concerned now. Or at least she appeared to be genuinely concerned. But was it really genuine? Had anything been genuine, much less her love for me? "Sweetheart, what's troubling you?"

I really didn't want to tell them the truth. But that comment had opened the floodgates. My wants were now irrelevant. The words were going to spew out regardless. "You read Harry's blog, right?" They nodded. "Well, then you knew I was very disturbed by what I saw in the Mirror of Erised. I saw…"

There was dead silence in the room for ten seconds and for an instant, I believed I would actually just shut up before I could say the words that might make them hate me forever. "I saw Malfoy dead. All my enemies, all the pureblood bigots, horribly, horribly killed. And I knew instinctively in that moment that they had died at my hands. That I'd killed them. I want to kill my enemies and make them suffer. It's my dearest desire and it must mean I'm a monster! Just like you!"

Dad bent down and moved my hair out of my eyes, tenderly wiping away my tears just like he had when I was a little girl. He must have loved me. Even now, I don't see how anyone could possibly fake that love. "Little one, it's okay. Just because we indulged our darkest impulses doesn't mean you have to. We are the sum of our choices. You shouldn't be ashamed of who you are, only what you do."

"You have a fiery spirit, solnyshko," Mum said. "And your darkest self is pretty darn dark. But you're a good person by choice. You always act in defense of your friends, what is right. We taught you that because we don't want you to be like us. We want you to be better."

I stood up and started pacing around the room. Morally speaking, I should turn them in. Though, honestly, it sounds like MI6 already knows about them so I don't exactly think that'd help anything. I don't have any concrete proof they've committed specific crimes, other than Hagrid's word and he probably doesn't even exist in the Muggle world. What I have would be enough circumstantial evidence to get an investigation started if there wasn't one already, but it isn't enough to get them immediately arrested.

Perhaps the right thing to do, then, I figured, was to distance myself from them, to at least no longer be complicit in their crimes as their unwitting alibi. Maybe it would be the right thing to go and live with Ron's family, as they'd offered. While I wouldn't want to impose on the Weasleys, it could be argued that leaving the company of admitted killers is the responsible thing to do. But…I didn't want to. I knew my parents loved me…and that they also did terrible things. Things I couldn't get them to stop. Though on the other hand, it wasn't like I had tried.

"Do you have to kill people for them?" I said, utilizing the full power of my puppy dog eyes. It was a terrible power and one I only used sparingly, for with great power comes great responsibility. "Can't you just stop?"

Dad frowned. "But it's fun. I haven't asked you to stop your hobby, even though that Quidditch seems very dangerous."

Mum gave him a withering glare. "Emmet!" she said. "Come on. The work we do isn't the same thing as a child's sport. I think it's a reasonable request. Though we're not going to leave our jobs. If only because they won't let us. I'd rather not have two countries gunning for us."

Dad pouted like a little kid sad that his favorite toy was being taken from him. "Fine. For you, Hermione."

"What about this kill order?" I fretted. "Why are they trying to kill me? Why not you? No offense. I don't understand how anyone in their right mind can think I'm a spy! I'm twelve!"

Mum sighed. "As I said before, Islington-Lennox is not in his right mind. He's a megalomaniac, but he's also put a lot of effort into this scheme. Into molding Harry into a weapon." I didn't understand what she meant by that, and it must have shown on my face.

You're…not going to like what they said next. There was a lot of shouting and denial and swearing and at one point, I grabbed one of the guns off the wall and threatened to blow Dad's head off, but I rather lost motivation when Mum told me how proud she was and I just put it back. Anyway, the long and the short of it is as follows – and keep in mind this is just a theory, and I don't honestly believe it, but it's plausible enough that I feel you should be warned just in case.

You know Voldemort came to murder you and your parents at Godric's Hallow. The thing is…how do we know that? The only survivors of that incident were you and Voldemort. Well, mostly in his case. There are no witnesses. For all we know, burglars could have broken into the flat to kill your parents and Voldemort could have slipped in the shower. And yet somehow, everyone knows you survived the Killing Curse. Now, given that you've done it a second time, I think we can safely assume it happened the first time, but no one should know that. Unless someone was watching the house. Such a person would have had to be a friend of your parents. A person like Hagrid.

Now we come to the matter of what would be gained by turning you into this mythic figure. My parents think Islington-Lennox wants to take over the magical world, or at least the British side of it, and wants you to be his puppet ruler. As a hero of the magical world, you'd be able to get into power easily when the time was right. But to be suitable, you had to be placed into a Muggle home. I don't think Islington-Lennox wanted you to be abused, but if you were removed from the Dursleys, you would probably be placed in a magical world, and his plan would fail if you weren't raised among Muggles and didn't acquire a Muggle mentality. So he's been keeping you there.

Remember when Hagrid turned your cousin into a pig and he just basically said he did it because he could, because he had the power to do it? I think Islington-Lennox wanted Hagrid to do that to plant the idea that mages are dangerous to Muggles, that they need to be reined in by the Muggle government.

Of course, all of this is supposition, and with Hagrid arrested, I have absolutely no idea what their next move might be. I do, however, know what ours will be, and that's to get you out of the Dursleys as soon as we can. Mum and Dad say all the pieces are in position and their fiendish plan (their words, not mine) to get you into a safe home will be executed before you even come back from break.

My parents are going to try to use whatever leverage they have to get the kill order against me removed, but they fear it may be difficult. Once this administration gets an idea into their heads, it's difficult to get it removed. They're terrified I'm influencing you in the direction of the Russians. As if anyone can stop you from doing these harebrained schemes of yours, and I say that in the nicest possible way, Harry. At worst, I may have to transfer to a different school until the heat dies down, but I promise, that'll only be the absolute last resort.

As for what I'm going to do about my parents, I fear there's no other option for me than to let things be. They're going to give up their assassination job and concentrate on just spying (how in the hell is this my life?!) and I'm just going to have to trust they're telling the truth. For now, I'm going to pretend none of this ever happened. I know it's probably not the right thing to do, but they're my parents, Harry. I love them and they love me. I can't give them up.

Your friend,

Hermione

To: Dr. Elisei Antonovich Dreykov, FSB Section Chief, Russian Embassy, London

From: Eduard Hamm

Dr. Dreykov, I'm sorry to have to say Katarina and I will have to be withdrawing from elimination assignments in the future, due to personal reasons. We will continue the mission assigned to us in all other respects. Please accept our apologies and understand that we are only doing this because we think it is the best for our family.

How dare you? How dare you take everything we've given you and that whore and throw it all away? For what? For some vague personal reasons? You can take your personal reasons and shove them up your ass, Ed! You do what you're told. You are a soldier of Mother Russia, as am I. Doing anything more than your absolute best is nothing short of treason. You will be arrested and sent to Siberia and you'll end up just like Navalny, the both of you! But that's not all. That daughter of yours, Hermione? The witch? We're going to take her and we're going to experiment on her until both her mind and her body are ruined. She will suffer and there's nothing you can do about it.

RUSSIAN DIPLOMAT FOUND DEAD IN TRAFALGAR SQUARE

By Winnie Ivy Robertson-Ellis, Times of London

Elisei Dreykov, 51, a cultural attaché for the Russian embassy to the United Kingdom was found murdered this morning at Trafalgar Square. He was heavily tortured, disemboweled, and dismembered before his death by gunshot wound to the head. A note, written in his own blood, was found by the corpse with the cryptic words "If you so much as blink in Hermione's direction, you're next." The British, Ukrainian, and American governments have all denied involvement in the murder and it remains unknown who this mysterious Hermione individual might be.

Dear Ron,

I was sorry you couldn't join me and Hermione for Easter break, but I totally get it. Bill's only off a couple of times a year and if you didn't see him now, it would be ages before you saw him again. No hard feelings at all!

It's a shame you aren't here for the fun, though, because it's been a very intriguing couple of days. The Grangers turned out to be actual Russian spies with a side gig of assassinating people as Hagrid said. (Obviously he was wrong about Hermione.) Or at least they were Russian spies. But when they tried to quit the assassination business, their superior wouldn't let them go and he threatened Hermione, so they killed him as a warning to anyone else who dares touch Hermione. We can only hope MI6 will get the message and back off. Now they've decided that since they've burnt their bridges with Russia, they're negotiating to defect in exchange for the kill order on Hermione getting lifted. In the meantime, they've decided to become independent assassins for anyone who wants to pay.

Hermione is less than pleased by the whole matter. Her parents, ironically, raised her with a great deal of patriotism towards Britain and it's been quite the blow to learn that her parents were loyal to a completely different country (to say nothing of the fact Britain wants her dead). She's very reluctantly decided to let things go and pretend that none of this ever happened. It helps that we've been busy putting our plans into effect for the little switcheroo we discussed in our last letter. I'm just crossing my fingers it works. The Grangers claim they have an ace up their sleeves, but we don't know what it is because we decided we'd prefer plausible deniability.

If all goes well, the Dursleys will go down tomorrow and I'll be living with a guardian who cares about me for the first time I can remember. Crossing my fingers!

Your friend,

Harry

Mr. and Mrs. Vernon and Petunia Dursley,

You may be very well wondering what has happened to your son. You may also be wondering how this letter appeared on your kitchen table. Though most people would have come to this conclusion already, I have it under good authority that you have the intelligence of lemmings, so I will spell it out for you: the two subjects are correlated.

I have kidnapped your son. He is unharmed. Honestly, he's not even upset. I've given him a whole bunch of junk food and videogames and I'm not even sure he's aware he's been kidnapped right now. But he can be easily made aware. By which I mean I intend to hurt him or even kill him if I must unless you do precisely as I tell you in the call you will be receiving quite imminently. If you do as you are told, he will be release unharmed, regardless of what happens to you after you follow my instructions.

You are being watched. If you breathe a word of this to anyone, your son will die. We know everything about you, Vernon and Petunia. We know about that little account you have stowed away in the Cayman Islands, Vernon. We know about your little dalliance with the gentleman in 6 Privet Drive, Petunia. And most importantly, we know about the cupboard under the stairs. Do not thing you can outwit us.

The last thing I wish to do is offer an apology. To lemmings. They don't deserve to be mentioned in the same sentence as you disgusting pieces of filth.

Mia Farrow! That's who McGonagall reminded me of. It was bugging me all day until I remembered I could look it up, so, you know, I was feeling kind of stupid when I realized that. But now the mystery has been solved, so we can move on.

What are we moving onto, you might ask, noble readers? Well, I'm glad you asked me that. Today, the long awaited court hearing regarding my placement here occurred and, wow, was it a whirlwind of excitement.

The Drs. Granger took me and Hermione and Remus to the courthouse. This must have been Remus's first time in a Muggle courthouse because he looked extremely impressed at all the finery. Oh, speaking of the Drs. Granger, we've managed to clear up that little misunderstanding about them being supposedly Russian spies. It turns out that the Drs. Granger are virulent opponents of Islington-Lennox's Union Party and he's been doing what he could to smear them. Hagrid must have heard those lies and gone down the conspiracy rabbit hole independently of them. So there you have it. Mystery cleared up!

Anyway, back to the courthouse. Andy Howe, a partner in Ms. Cheatham's law firm, handles the work they do in the Muggle world, so he was our barrister in the whole custody battle. He seemed like a nice enough guy. Maybe a bit too nice; I was worried he wouldn't have what it took to fight the battle that needed to be fought.

"This is going to be very difficult for you, Harry," Mr. Howe warned me. "You're going to have to talk, probably in detail, about how the Dursleys mistreated you. You don't have to talk about anything you're not comfortable with, but the more details you provide, the easier job we'll have of persuading the judge."

Hermione squeezed my hand. The air conditioning must have been on the fritz because it suddenly felt very warm. "You've got this, Harry," she whispered in my ear, which felt very hot all of a sudden. "I believe in you."

"Thanks, Hermione," I said with a grin. The two of us stood there awkwardly for a few seconds. Hermione suddenly took a step in my direction but whatever she was about to do was interrupted by someone telling us the court was ready for us.

I knew the Dursleys would be there, but it was still something of a shock to see them. after so many months in Hogwarts, a part of me had hoped they were just some sort of horrible nightmare. But, no, those horrid people were there, dressed up to the nines, looking at me as if I was the source of all evil. I don't think I've ever seen so much hatred directed at me before, not even from Voldemort. I suppose it was a small mercy that Dudley wasn't there, but Vernon and Petunia were bad enough on their own.

"They can't do anything to hurt you anymore," Mr. Howe whispered in my ear as we all sat down at our respective positions in the courtroom.

"Unless we lose," I shot back.

Mr. Howe smirked. "I don't make a habit of losing."

I'm not going to bore you with all the legal minutiae. You want that, you can watch Law & Order: UK. Also, while we're on that subject, would you not agree with me that the show started going down the tubes when Bill Paterson left the show? Of course you would; it's as plain as the nose on my face. Almost as clear as the fact that Ben Stone was better than Jack McCoy on the original Law & Order.

"Mr. Potter!" Judge Albert Ian Larson shouted at me, getting me out of my stupor. Damn it, had I gotten distracted again? In a court hearing? How embarrassing. "Am I boring you?"

"No, Your Worship," I said very politely. Contrary to popular belief, I am able to be respectful and polite to authority figures when I feel they deserve it. And this time around I was in the wrong. "I'm sorry, sir, I'm just tired. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night since I was so nervous."

Judge Larson nodded. "Well, try to pay attention. The matter before us is your custody hearing, Mr. Potter, the question of whether guardianship will remain with your mother's sister or be transferred to the Drs. Emmet and Danielle Granger." He looked over at what must have been the prosecutor. "However, His Majesty's Government appears to…vehemently object to this removal of custody. I am most curious as to why."

The woman sitting at the prosecution table, a middle aged woman with hair cut razor short, stood up on cue. "That's Rachel Dacted," Mr. Howe whispered to me. "The government's go to barrister in all matters of top national security. Do you have any idea why she's here?" I shrugged. "No, I don't suppose you would."

"Your Worship, the Drs. Granger are subjects of an ongoing investigation," Dacted said. "I'm not at liberty to divulge the nature of it, but suffice it to say I do not believe they'd make suitable guardians for young Mr. Potter."

Judge Larson leaned forward, looking intrigued. "Are you saying, Miss Dacted, that their daughter," he looked through his papers briefly, "Hermione would also be in danger in their custody?"

Dacted froze for a few seconds. I don't know what was going through her mind. "Without credible proof of abuse, Your Worship, I don't believe we're willing to leap to that conclusion at this time."

Judge Larson looked like he didn't trust Dacted one iota "Miss Granger, stand up, please." Hermione was trembling a bit but she stood up nonetheless. "You feel safe in your parents' custody?"

"Yes, I do," Hermione said defiantly, and then added after a few moments, just long enough to hint the pause was deliberate but short enough to maintain plausible deniability that it was not, "sir. My parents are loyal patriots, good people, and have taught me the value of hard work, honesty, and keeping to one's promises."

A heavy, ponderous silence filled the courtroom. "Let us put this matter aside for the moment," Judge Larson decided. "We must first ascertain if custody would change before we decide who it changes to. I call Vernon Dursley to the stand."

I have to say, I found it very, very satisfying when Vernon sat down in the witness box. I've been dreaming for a long, long time that he'd be held accountable for his crimes and now that day is finally here and I'm going to cherish this memory for a very long time. He was shaking. I could smell the fear on him. He knew this was the day he would finally, finally lose.

"Mr. Dursley, please tell the court why you think you should remain Mr. Potter's guardian," Judge Larson began. "Tell us your side of the story."

"We…we shouldn't," Vernon said. Gasps echoed all over the courtroom. Dacted looked like she was about to faint. I couldn't help but notice neither Remus nor the Grangers looked at all surprised. I didn't know whether Remus had cast a spell on Vernon or maybe the Grangers had bribed him, but they must have done something. "The boy was right. We," he looked down at the floor, bracing himself for the next words he was about to say, "kept him in a cupboard."

Dacted stood up. "Judge Larson, clearly Mr. Dursley is mentally unwell. I move for a recess until he can be examined by medical professionals."

"I…I have photos," Vernon said, sounding sick to his stomach. He took some photos of what must have been the cupboard to Judge Larson, who looked ill just looking at them. I looked over at Petunia, whose face was chalk white and her hands gripped against the table so hard that I thought there was a danger she might rip part of it off, but she did not look surprised. She knew this was coming. But why? Did Petunia suddenly have…an attack of conscience or something?

Oh, God, listen to me. I should take up stand up comedy. Conscience and Petunia. What a ridiculous idea.

"I've seen all I need to see," Judge Larson announced. "Bailiff, arrest Mr. and Mrs. Dursley on charges of child abuse." I cringed. Hearing the words child abuse out loud as applied to myself still struck a blow. I'm a pretty put together kind of guy. I don't like to think of myself as abused. But still…he was right.

Dacted glared ferociously at the Grangers, who just returned innocent smiles, but there was nothing she could do about it. Her first gambit had failed. "Your Worship, the government reiterates that the Drs. Granger are unsuitable guardians in the extreme."

Before the judge could say anything, Remus stood up. "Your Worship, my name is Remus Lupin and I was a good friend of Harry's father. May I approach the bench?" Judge Larson motioned for him to come forward. "In light of the investigation into the Grangers – who I believe to be innocent of whatever charges are arrayed against them – I'd like to submit my own name as Harry's guardian."

"This is most irregular," Judge Larson said with a frown. "But then again, this whole case has been. Very well, Mr. Lupin. Please state your case."

"Well, for starters, it is Professor Lupin," Remus said calmly. "I am a teacher of…language arts at the boarding school Mr. Potter attends, Hogwarts School for Gifted Children. Harry trusts me and his father would have wanted me to look after him since Petunia is clearly an unsuitable guardian."

I'm not expert on facial expressions, but we looked like we were winning Judge Larson over! "And why did you not seek custody initially yourself instead of the Drs. Granger?"

Remus shrugged. "Well, I'm a bachelor, Your Worship, with no experience parenting children. I figured a married couple with experience raising a daughter Harry clearly cares so much about would be better suited." For some reason, I felt myself blushing. What was that about? "But since they're not able to handle it, I am able and willing to give it a shot."

Mr. Howe pulled out a sheaf of papers from his briefcase and I couldn't help but grin. This whole thing was planned out from the get go! And no one bothered telling me. I was a little bit annoyed, but since I have a tendency to put pretty much everything on this blog, I could sort of understand why. "We have thorough documentation confirming everything that Mr. Lupin says."

"Miss Dacted?" Judge Larson asked sternly. He was on our side, I just knew it!

"I need to consult with my superiors, sir," Dacted said, floundering for the right words.

Judge Larson glared at her. "I need a decision now."

"The…His Majesty's government has no objections," she stammered. "Oh, I'm going to get in so much trouble for this," she muttered under her breath.

"Then I –"

The doors to the courtroom slammed open and Dumbledore, of all people, came swooping into the room wearing neon green robes and looking powerful and thunderous, quivering with righteous fury. "Enough!" he shouted. "I will not permit this to continue any further. Harry must remain with the Dursleys. There are blood wards there that protect him from Death Eaters."

"Who are you?" Judge Larson said. "How did you get in here? And what the hell are you even talking about?"

Remus coughed, looking highly embarrassed. "Your Worship, this is my employer, Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts. His beliefs tend to be a little…esoteric. He doesn't quite realize that most people in this world don't think there's any such thing as magic." He glared fearsomely at Dumbledore.

"My boy, there's clearly no need for any more fuss and muss," Dumbledore said benignly to Judge Larson, who looked like he was ready to choke out Dumbledore with his bare hands with how angry he was at having the court disrupted. "I'll just bring Harry here back to the Dursleys."

"You are going to do no such thing, sir," Judge Larson snarled, "and call me 'my boy' one more time and you will be jailed for contempt of court. The Dursleys have been arrested and I am about to award custody to Professor Lupin over here."

Dumbledore's mouth gaped open in astonishment. "But you cannot do that! He is a werewolf!"

Mr. Howe openly slammed his head against the desk and it was a testimony to how annoyed Judge Larson was with Dumbledore that he didn't say a word of warning against it. "You say Professor Lupin is a werewolf?"

"Your Worship, Albus is not well," Remus said quickly. "He is suffering from dementia and will soon be retiring. A few months ago, he believed Harry to be a Sith Lord. Please do not listen to a word he says."

"If his lycanthropy makes him such a danger to Harry," Judge Larson said mockingly, "then why have you hired him to teach at a boarding school filled with children?"

Dumbledore gave a dazzling smile at the judge and I expected him to deliver some truly epically insane rant. Instead, he did the exact opposite, launching into an almost spellbinding (no pun intended) speech about the dangers of lycanthropy, about the various instances in history where werewolves have attacked their own children, about how he'd ensured that there were numerous safety measures at Hogwarts that could not be replicated in an ordinary private household. It was meticulously crafted and beautifully worded. I felt privileged to listen to it, honestly. It was probably the last coherent speech he'd ever give with how fast his mind was deteriorating. If he'd given it to the Wizengamot, Remus would be screwed.

But instead he was giving it to a Muggle judge who didn't believe in magic and especially not in werewolves and thus it was entirely useless. "Mr. Dumbledore…that was the biggest load of twaddle I've ever heard in my life. Very nicely worded twaddle, but still twaddle."

"Why thank you!"

"That's…not a compliment," Judge Larson said. "Bailiffs, have this man removed posthaste."

"You can't do this to me!" Dumbledore screamed as he was dragged off. "I am the leader of the light! The defeater of Grindelwald! BOWLING CHAMPION OF ALL OF SCOTLAND!"

It turned out that they could indeed do that to the bowling champion of all of Scotland, because they basically tossed him out into the courtroom hallway and slammed the door shut. "Now that we're done with interruptions," Judge Larson said with a grumble, "provisional custody is hereby given to Remus Lupin. An investigation into you will, of course, be conducted, but I'm sure this will just be a formality. We're done here."

I practically jumped on Remus with a bear hug once we were out of in the hallway. Thankfully, Dumbledore was long gone, presumably gone to get drunk somewhere. Or something. I don't really care. "We did it! Remus, we did it! You're my guardian now!"

"And I'll do whatever I can to keep you safe and happy, Harry," Remus vowed.

"Congratulations, dear," Danielle said to me as she ruffled her hair. "I'm sad we won't get a chance to look after you, but perhaps you'll become a Granger in a different way one day, right, Hermione?"

"MUM!" Hermione shouted, looking dreadfully embarrassed for some strange reason. I'll never understand girls.

"Thanks for making the Dursleys confess, Remus," I said before the confusion could deepen.

Remus gave me a disapproving look. "Harry, any spells I could have used to get that reaction would have been highly illegal."

I tapped my finger against my nose. "I got it. Plausible deniability."

"No, that's not what I meant at all!" Remus said. He was such a good liar. If I didn't know any better, I would assume he genuinely didn't know anything about what was done to the Dursleys.

People, I am on top of the world right now. The Dursleys have been brought to justice, Remus is my guardian, and I got to see the government get egg on its face. I'm free now and it feels amazing. Life is good.