Disclaimer: This fanfiction is an Alternate Universe (AU) work inspired by the Harry Potter series and is not officially endorsed by J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., or any affiliated parties. All characters, events, and settings are used in a transformative manner and should be viewed as a reinterpretation of the original work. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or deceased, or real-world events are coincidental. The views and interpretations presented in this fanfiction are the sole responsibility of the author(s) and do not necessarily align with the established canon of the Harry Potter series. Reader discretion is advised as this fanfiction may explore themes, character interactions, and storylines not found in the original works.
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Historic Wizengamot Session: Sirius Black Exonerated and Major Changes Implemented
By Barnabus Cuffe
In a session described as one of the most pivotal moments in recent wizarding history, the Wizengamot convened under urgent circumstances yesterday, resulting in significant revelations and sweeping changes to the structure of our magical governance.
The session began with an unexpected and dramatic revelation from Charlus and Arcturus Black, who presented the will of James and Lily Potter. This document, which had been blocked from execution by former Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore, unequivocally named Sirius Black as the godfather and rightful guardian of Harry Potter. It also revealed that Peter Pettigrew, not Sirius Black, was the Potters' secret keeper.
Further investigation by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE), led by Madam Amelia Bones, uncovered gross miscarriages of justice. Sirius Black had been imprisoned without trial, based on unverified allegations and the biased presumption of guilt by Barty Crouch Sr. Notably, Sirius Black's wand had never been tested with the Priori Incantatem charm, which when finally cast, revealed only non-lethal spells, thus proving his innocence.
The Wizengamot unanimously voted for the immediate release of Sirius Black. He is now receiving treatment at St. Mungo's Hospital for injuries and ailments sustained during his wrongful incarceration.
The session also saw the removal of Albus Dumbledore as Chief Warlock. This decision followed the disclosure of Dumbledore's actions in placing Harry Potter with the abusive Dursley family, in direct contravention of the Potters' will. Charlus Potter presented a detailed list of Harry's injuries and reports of severe neglect and malnutrition, which were obtained by Healers Dorea Potter and Melania Black.
With Dumbledore ousted, Augusta Longbottom was proposed and accepted as the new Chief Warlock. Her appointment signals a shift towards greater accountability and reform within the Wizengamot.
Following these revelations, further motions were raised. The expulsion of Barty Crouch Sr. from all Ministry posts was passed without opposition, holding him accountable for his role in Sirius Black's wrongful imprisonment. Attempts by the Dark Faction to use Black's case to release other Azkaban inmates convicted of Death Eater activities were decisively denied, as their cases were found to be airtight.
In a related development, Albus Dumbledore was also expelled from his position as Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards (ICW). This decision came after an emergency meeting called by Jean-Claude Delacour, whose father, the late Pierre Delacour, was a former general of the Black Dragon Legion. This marks a significant blow to Dumbledore's influence and raises questions about the broader implications for international magical politics.
As the session concluded, there was a palpable sense of a new dawn for the wizarding world. The decisions made reflect a collective determination to uphold justice and truth. With new leadership and a commitment to reform, the future of magical Britain looks poised for positive change.
Stay tuned to The Daily Prophet for further updates on this unfolding story and other news from the wizarding world.
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Minerva McGonagall sat in her office at Hogwarts, her eyes scanning the latest edition of The Daily Prophet. The headline about the Wizengamot's historic session caught her attention, but it was the details about Albus Dumbledore that made her heart sink. As she read through Barnabus Cuffe's article, her thoughts drifted back to a cold November night five years ago.
Flashback
It was the same night the Potters had been murdered, and Voldemort had been vanquished. Minerva had spent the entire day perched as a tabby cat on the Dursleys' garden wall, observing the Muggle family with a growing sense of unease. As dusk fell, she watched Vernon Dursley return home, his demeanor gruff and unkind. Petunia Dursley, with her pinched face and shrill voice, seemed no better. Their son, Dudley, was a spoiled and unpleasant child even at his young age.
When Albus Dumbledore finally arrived, she transformed back into her human form, confronting him about the plan.
"Are you sure it's safe, Albus?" she had asked, her voice filled with concern. "I've been watching them all day. They're the worst sort of Muggles imaginable!"
Dumbledore, with his usual air of calm authority, had assured her that this was the best place for Harry. "His aunt and uncle will be able to provide him with the protection he needs," he had said. "The blood wards created by Lily's sacrifice will ensure his safety."
Minerva had not been convinced. "But can't we find someone more suitable? Surely there must be another way?"
Dumbledore had given her a gentle yet firm look. "This is the only way, Minerva. Harry must be kept safe, and he must be kept away from the wizarding world until he is ready. These people are his family, after all."
Reluctantly, she had watched as Dumbledore placed the sleeping baby on the doorstep, along with a letter explaining the tragic events that had transpired. With a heavy heart, she had bid Dumbledore goodnight, unable to shake the feeling that this decision might not be the best one.
Present
As she finished reading the article, Minerva felt a wave of regret wash over her. The reports of Harry's neglect and abuse at the hands of the Dursleys were a painful confirmation of her worst fears. She trusted Dumbledore implicitly, but now she questioned whether that trust had been misplaced.
"Albus, what have you done?" she whispered to herself, her voice filled with sorrow. The memory of that night, combined with the new revelations, left her questioning the choices that had been made in the name of protecting Harry.
Her feelings were exacerbated by the knowledge that Dorea Black-Potter, Harry's grandmother who had been in a coma for a decade but had now woken up, was a close friend of hers. They had attended Hogwarts together, forming a tight-knit group with Melania Macmillan-Black and Augusta Longbottom, who were also deeply intertwined with the current events. Melania's grandson, Sirius Black, had been thought to have betrayed James and Lily, but now Minerva found herself questioning how she could have ever believed such a thing. James and Sirius were more like brothers than friends, their bond unbreakable.
Memories of their time at Hogwarts flooded back: Dorea's brilliance and unwavering courage, Melania's compassion and wisdom, and Augusta's fierce loyalty and determination. They had faced many challenges together, supporting each other through thick and thin. The idea that Sirius, Melania's grandson, could betray James seemed absurd now, knowing how close the Potters and Blacks had always been.
Minerva's heart ached with the realization of how deeply misguided she had been. The trust she had placed in Albus Dumbledore's decisions now felt like a betrayal of her own convictions. The news of Dorea, Melania, and Augusta's involvement brought a glimmer of hope, but also a renewed sense of duty. She needed to support Harry and his family, to make amends for the past, and to ensure that the mistakes of the past were not repeated.
Determined, she rose from her desk, her mind set on a new course of action. She would visit St. Mungo's, reconnect with Dorea, Melania, and Augusta, and offer her support to Sirius and Harry. She owed it to them, and to the memory of James and Lily, to stand by their side and help build a future where justice and love prevailed over fear and betrayal.
—
Narcissa Black-Malfoy sat in her lavish drawing room, the ornate decor of Malfoy Manor contrasting sharply with the turmoil in her mind. She unfolded the latest edition of the Daily Prophet, her eyes scanning the front page. As she read the article by Barnabus Cuffe, detailing the extraordinary emergency session of the Wizengamot, her heart raced.
The headlines spoke volumes: Sirius Black Exonerated, Dumbledore Ousted from ICW, and Justice for the Potters. Each word confirmed the seismic shift within the wizarding world. As Narcissa absorbed the news of her cousin's release and Dumbledore's expulsion, a myriad of emotions surged through her.
Narcissa had been leading a double life, carefully balancing her role as the dutiful wife of Lucius Malfoy with her covert mission for the Black Dragon Legion. The revelations about Dumbledore's actions and the wrongful imprisonment of Sirius were startling, but not entirely unexpected. She knew the depths of the corruption and manipulation within the Ministry, and this only solidified her resolve.
The article highlighted the role of Charlus Potter and Arcturus Black in the recent events. Narcissa's heart swelled with pride for her family, even as she felt a pang of regret for the years lost. The image of Harry, the boy who had suffered so much at the hands of the Dursleys, tugged at her heartstrings. She felt a renewed sense of urgency to protect him and ensure his future was secure.
As she finished reading, her thoughts turned to her husband, Lucius. She had been meticulously feeding information to the Legion, risking everything to undermine his allegiance to the Dark Lord. The knowledge that her family was at the forefront of this fight for justice gave her strength. She was determined to see her mission through, to protect her son Draco, and to stand with her family in the coming struggle.
Narcissa carefully folded the newspaper, her mind racing with plans. She would need to reach out to Andromeda and Sirius, to reaffirm their bonds and strategize their next moves. The time for subtlety was waning, and the need for decisive action was growing.
With a deep breath, Narcissa rose from her seat, her resolve steeled. She had a part to play in this new era, and she would not falter. The legacy of the Black family and the future of the wizarding world depended on it.
—
In a sunlit Parisian apartment, Jean-Claude Delacour sat at the breakfast table, his family gathered around him. The soft morning light streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the elegant setting. The aroma of freshly baked croissants and strong coffee filled the air, mingling with the gentle murmur of conversation.
Jean-Claude, a man of formidable presence and quiet authority, unfolded the latest edition of the Daily Prophet. As his eyes scanned the front page, detailing the dramatic events of the emergency Wizengamot session, a satisfied smile spread across his face. The headlines proclaimed the exoneration of Sirius Black, the ousting of Albus Dumbledore from his position as Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, and the dawn of a new era of justice in the wizarding world.
His young daughter, Fleur, looked up from her breakfast, noticing the change in her father's expression. "Papa, what iz it?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
Jean-Claude glanced up, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of pride and satisfaction. "Eet seemz our effortz 'ave borne fruit, ma chérie," he said, passing the newspaper to her. "Ze Legion's planz are coming to fruition. Sirius Black iz free, and Dumbledore's grip on power iz slipping."
Fleur took the paper, her eyes wide as she tried to make sense of the articles. Though she was only nine, she understood enough to see that something significant had happened. "Zat's good, right, Papa?"
Jean-Claude nodded, his thoughts drifting to the legacy of his father, Pierre Delacour, a former general of the Black Dragon Legion. When Pierre had passed, Jean-Claude had taken up the mantle, dedicating himself to the Legion's mission of justice and protection. The success of their recent maneuvers, particularly the pivotal emergency meeting he had called within the ICW, filled him with a deep sense of accomplishment.
"Oui, ma petite. Eet iz very good," he replied, his tone filled with pride. "Many brave people 'ave worked hard for zis. Ze world will be a better place for eet."
Fleur beamed at her father, her pride evident. "Ze Legion iz ze best," she said earnestly, her admiration clear.
Jean-Claude nodded, reaching for his cup of coffee. "Indeed, and we must continue to be vigilant. Ze path ahead iz still fraught weeth challenges. But for now, we can take a moment to appreciate what we 'ave achieved."
As they continued their breakfast, Jean-Claude's thoughts turned to the future. The fall of Dumbledore marked a significant turning point, but there was still much work to be done. The Legion would need to remain strong and united, ready to face whatever came next.
For now, though, he allowed himself a moment of quiet satisfaction, surrounded by his family. The light of a new day had dawned, and with it, the promise of a better, more just world.
—
In the aftermath of the Wizengamot session and the shifting tides of power within the wizarding world, the Death Eaters faced a critical dilemma. With the likes of Dolohov and the Lestranges incarcerated in Azkaban, their absence left a significant void within their ranks. The remaining Death Eaters knew they needed to regroup and find new allies to bolster their strength.
Lucius Malfoy, ever the strategist, took charge of the situation. He dispatched trusted operatives to discreetly reach out to known sympathizers and potential recruits. These Death Eaters, operating in the shadows, sought out individuals who shared their ideology of pure-blood supremacy and the desire to restore Voldemort's legacy.
Among those approached were disgruntled pure-blood families who had long harbored resentment towards the Ministry and the perceived erosion of wizarding traditions. Some were former members of Voldemort's inner circle who had managed to evade capture or prosecution, lurking in the fringes of wizarding society.
Others were younger witches and wizards who had been radicalized by the rhetoric of their elders, drawn to the allure of power and the promise of a world where they could reign supreme. These recruits were eager to prove themselves, to carve out their own place in the new order that the Death Eaters sought to establish.
As Lucius and his associates worked tirelessly to expand their network, they treaded carefully, aware of the heightened scrutiny they faced from both the Ministry and the Black Dragon Legion. Every new recruit was vetted thoroughly, their loyalty tested through clandestine missions and acts of sabotage.
In the dimly lit corridors of Malfoy Manor, Narcissa moved with practiced stealth, her footsteps muffled by the lush carpets beneath her feet. As she crept closer to Lucius's study, her heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination. She knew the risks of what she was about to do, but the weight of her convictions spurred her forward.
Peering through the crack in the door, Narcissa observed Lucius and his associates huddled around a table, their voices hushed as they discussed their clandestine operations. Her husband's stern visage betrayed none of the doubts or suspicions that churned within her.
With each passing moment, Narcissa's resolve hardened. She had long harbored misgivings about the path Lucius had chosen, the alliances he had forged, and the dangerous game he played with the fate of their family. But now, as she witnessed firsthand the extent of his involvement with the Death Eaters, her doubts crystallized into certainty.
As Lucius outlined his plans for recruiting new allies and expanding their network, Narcissa listened intently, committing every detail to memory. She knew that this information could be invaluable to the Black Dragon Legion, providing them with crucial insight into the inner workings of the Death Eater organization.
But as she watched her husband, a pang of guilt gnawed at her conscience. Lucius had always been fiercely loyal to their family, even if his methods were questionable. Betraying him felt like a betrayal of her own principles, yet Narcissa knew that her loyalty to the greater good outweighed her loyalty to one man.
With a final glance at the scene unfolding before her, Narcissa slipped away, her mind racing with the implications of what she had witnessed. She knew that she walked a dangerous path, one fraught with peril and uncertainty. But she also knew that she could not stand idly by while darkness threatened to engulf their world. For Narcissa Malfoy, the time for silence had passed. It was time to take a stand, to choose a side, and to fight for the future she believed in, no matter the cost.
—
Amidst the towering turrets and ivy-covered walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Charlus and Arcturus materialized at the gates with a soft pop, their expressions resolute as they prepared to confront Albus Dumbledore.
Stepping forward with purpose, Charlus adjusted the lapels of his robe, his eyes fixed on the imposing castle before them. "This conversation is long overdue," he remarked, his voice carrying a note of determination.
Arcturus nodded in agreement, his gaze unwavering as he surveyed the familiar surroundings. "Indeed, it's time to address the events that have transpired," he replied, his tone firm and unwavering.
With measured steps, the two wizards made their way towards the towering oak doors of the castle, their footsteps echoing against the stone-flagged courtyard. As they approached, the doors swung open with a creak, revealing the dimly lit interior of Hogwarts' entrance hall.
Passing beneath the ancient stone archway, Charlus and Arcturus entered the castle, their eyes scanning the grandeur of the Great Hall ahead. It was here, amidst the flickering candlelight and towering marble pillars, that they would find Albus Dumbledore, the enigmatic headmaster of Hogwarts.
However, Charlus had another purpose in mind. With a subtle glance exchanged between him and Arcturus, they shared an unspoken understanding. Charlus was here to retrieve the Potter Family Invisibility Cloak, a priceless heirloom that had been entrusted to Dumbledore during his absence. James, in his misguided trust, had lent it to the headmaster while Charlus was incapacitated.
As they made their way towards Dumbledore's office, Charlus felt a surge of determination. He would reclaim what was rightfully his family's, and in doing so, ensure that no more of their legacy fell into the wrong hands.
As Charlus and Arcturus entered Dumbledore's office, the atmosphere was tense, charged with an unspoken urgency. Before Dumbledore could begin his customary twinkly-eyed demeanor, Charlus's voice cut through the silence like a blade, leaving no room for negotiation or delay.
"Albus," Charlus began, his tone firm and unwavering, "we are here for something that rightfully belongs to me."
Arcturus stood beside Charlus, his expression stoic and resolute, lending further weight to Charlus's words. Together, they presented a united front, determined to reclaim what was rightfully theirs.
Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly, his usual genial smile faltering for a moment as he regarded Charlus with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. It was clear that Charlus's tone brooked no argument, and Dumbledore understood the gravity of the situation.
"Of course, Charlus," Dumbledore replied, his voice calm yet tinged with a hint of caution. "I trust this concerns the Potter Family Invisibility Cloak."
Charlus' unwavering gaze bore into Dumbledore, the weight of generations of Potter family heritage evident in his demeanor. "Indeed," he confirmed firmly, his voice resonating with determination. "It's time for its return."
Dumbledore hesitated, his gaze flickering briefly to the ornate cabinet where the Invisibility Cloak lay safely stored. His mind raced with conflicting thoughts, for he knew the significance of the cloak as one of the Deathly Hallows. Yet, he also understood the importance of returning it to its rightful owner.
"I understand your request, Charlus," Dumbledore replied carefully, his tone measured. "However, the cloak holds great significance beyond its material value. It is part of a larger tale, one that extends far beyond the Potter family."
Charlus's expression remained impassive, though a hint of impatience flickered in his eyes. He understood Dumbledore's reluctance but was determined to reclaim what belonged to his family.
"We are aware of its significance, Albus," Arcturus interjected, his voice steady. "But its place is with the Potter family, where it rightfully belongs."
Arcturus's words hung in the air, carrying a weight that seemed to echo through the room. Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of shock crossing his features at the unexpected revelation.
"And let us not forget," Arcturus continued, his tone unwavering, "that we are also aware of the wand you currently wield, Albus. The Elder Wand, if I'm not mistaken."
Dumbledore's expression tightened imperceptibly, his grip on his wand tightening as he struggled to maintain his composure. The realization that his closely guarded secret had been uncovered sent a shiver down his spine, a coldness creeping into his heart.
"Be that as it may," Dumbledore replied evenly, though a trace of unease tinged his voice, "the Elder Wand is a matter of great complexity, one that transcends individual ownership."
Arcturus's gaze remained steady, his resolve unyielding as he met Dumbledore's eyes with a piercing intensity. "Nevertheless, Albus," he countered, "it is a matter that requires careful consideration and, perhaps, a reevaluation of its rightful place."
As Arcturus uttered those words, Charlus raised his hands, his movements deliberate yet seemingly effortless. In a moment that defied explanation, the Elder Wand, which had been firmly in Dumbledore's grasp, slipped from his fingers as if drawn by an invisible force. With a soft thud, it landed in Charlus's palm, its smooth surface gleaming in the dim light of the office.
Dumbledore's eyes widened in astonishment, a mixture of disbelief and bewilderment clouding his features. How could this be possible? How could the Elder Wand, the most powerful wand in existence, choose a new master so effortlessly, seemingly defying all known laws of magic?
A heavy silence descended upon the room, broken only by the faint hum of magical energy that seemed to pulse around them. Charlus regarded the wand in his hand with a sense of solemn reverence, his expression unreadable yet tinged with a quiet determination.
"Perhaps," Arcturus remarked, his voice carrying a note of significance, "its rightful place has been found at last."
As Arcturus spoke those words, his voice carried a weight of significance that echoed through the chamber, punctuating the profound implications of their discovery. Charlus stepped forward, his demeanor calm yet resolute, as he began to explain the enigmatic nature of the Elder Wand.
"The Elder Wand," Charlus began, his voice resonating with a deep sense of reverence, "was forged by the Peverell brothers, legendary figures of ancient wizarding history. Though it may respond to the command of any wizard, its true allegiance lies with those of Peverell blood."
As Dumbledore's eyes widened with realization, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place with a resounding clarity. The significance of the wand's connection to the Peverell lineage, its origins shrouded in myth and legend, suddenly became clear. The Potter bloodline, intermingled with the Peverells centuries ago when Hardwin Potter married Iolanthe Peverell, thus bringing the Invisibility Cloak into the Potter family, making it a cherished heirloom passed down through generations.
In that moment of revelation, Dumbledore understood the profound implications of Charlus's possession of both the Elder Wand and the Invisibility Cloak—a convergence of ancient legacies and familial destinies that would shape the course of wizarding history.
"It longs to be wielded by one of its own kin," Charlus continued, his words carrying a solemn weight. "And in finding its way to me, perhaps its rightful place has been found at last."
A profound silence descended upon the room, broken only by the soft hum of magic that seemed to permeate the very air around them. In that moment, the Elder Wand, once a symbol of power and authority, became something more—an artifact of ancient lineage, bound by ties of blood and legacy that transcended mere mortal understanding. And as Charlus held it aloft, its significance reverberated through the ages, shaping the destiny of wizardkind for generations to come.
Charlus' voice held a firmness that brooked no argument as he reiterated his demand for the return of the invisibility cloak. "Albus," he said, his tone unwavering, "the cloak is a treasured heirloom of the Potter family. Its place is with us, where it rightfully belongs."
Dumbledore's gaze flickered with a mixture of reluctance and resignation as he reached for the cloak, his hand hovering over it for a moment before he relinquished his hold. With a heavy sigh, he passed the cloak to Charlus, acknowledging the validity of his claim.
"It is yours," Dumbledore conceded, his voice tinged with a hint of regret. "May it serve you well, as it has served generations of Potters before you."
Charlus accepted the cloak with a nod of gratitude, his expression betraying a sense of satisfaction at having reclaimed a piece of his family's legacy. As he draped it over his arm, the fabric seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly light, resonating with the echoes of generations past.
As Charlus and Arcturus prepared to take their leave, Charlus' hand tightened around the Elder Wand, its power coursing through him with a palpable energy. With the cloak draped over his arm and the Elder Wand in his grasp, he exuded an aura of authority and ancestral strength, a true heir to the legacy of the Potter family.
Dumbledore's gaze lingered on Charlus, a silent acknowledgment passing between them—an understanding of the weight of the artifacts now in Charlus's possession and the responsibility that came with them. With a nod of farewell, Charlus and Arcturus vanished from view, leaving behind only the echoes of their departure, a testament to the enduring legacy of the Potter family and the new chapter unfolding in the wizarding world.
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