-In Hogsmeade
Lucius Malfoy looked in the mirror and frowned. The polyjuice potion he had made was perfect. Charms was his Mastery, but he had still gotten an Outstanding in his potions NEWT. The problem was his hair from Sirius had been from 1979 when Sirius became an Auror.
To say he had been changed by a war, followed by over a decade in Azkaban was putting it mildly. No silver in his hair, his face had the boyish roguishness that made him such a charmer, and his body had the overmuscled thuggishness of a Gryffindor who thought that gym was a wonderful "class", rather than something you gave up as soon as you were allowed your wand.
Lucius smirked. Sirius had been his only rival for best looking back in his Hogwarts days, which annoyed him as he was two years older, and having to compete at 17 with a 15 year old was frankly embarassing. Losing was worse of course, but revenge is a dish that only grows sweeter when allowed to marinate a few years. Lucius was now the better looking of the two at the best of times, but now he was even a better looking Sirius than Sirius was.
Lucius laughed until he looked down.
DAMN YOU NARCISSA. Merlin take your Black soul. His wand and potion bottles were still missing. His twig and berries, his manhood. That pure-blooded-bitch had cursed his manhood right off of him during her voiding of the marriage contract so thoroughly that Magic refused to let him borrow a pair of someone else's bollocks while stealing the rest of Sirius body. I got all of his muscles except the one I wanted.
Oh sure, Lucius had to hear about the Gryffindor golden boys when he was in school. It took all his Slytherin self control to not react when a witch he had seduced into a broom cupboard would compare wands she had known before. Finding out his fiancée's cousin Sirius was known to be Seriously Hung, or that the Potter boy, "that's why they call me Prongs!" was similarly gifted was annoying then. Now since Nacrissa cursed his wand right off his hips, he didn't simply have a shorter wand than the wizard he was impersonating, he didn't have so much as a stir stick to stir a cauldron.
Fine. He had laughed at Tiberius Nott back in the day when he got caught doing it, but needs must when Morgana's flying. He took a pair of avocado and a cucumber. Applying a sticking charm so the would stay in approximately anatomical position, he transfigured them slightly to be even better approximations and advertisements, then pulled on Sirius style too tight leather pants.
The students were off to Hogsmeade village for their first Hogsmeade weekend. The notorious escaped criminal Sirius Black would make it a memorable one. Kill a few of Harry Potter's comrades, stun and capture his dear easily manipulated Draco, and he could sit back and let the Dementors catch and kiss the real Sirius Black, while he beat his heir back into proper obedience and worship.
He had ruled wizarding Britain in all but name, where even his Dark Lord failed. No jumped up brat was going to take it away from him. Lucius Malfoy had succeeded in taking over the same Wizarding Britain Voldemort had sought, and he had used Slytherin cunning, rather than brute force to do it. He didn't need Narcissa's Black's fortune and name, he didn't need Voldemort's Death Eater network and forbidden magics. Lucius Malfoy was enough to do it himself! No one could take it away. They would take him seriously. Lucius Malfoy was no man to be mocked.
-In Hogwarts headed to Hogsmeade
Draco Malfoy looked at Luna Lovegood, he used all his Slytherin self discipline, but finally broke as she adjusted her hair so the earrings would be more visible.
"Are those radishes?" He asked finally in exasperation.
"Don't go there Draco." Harry warned.
Luna hugged Draco and grinned. "Yes! All the pretty people are wearing vegetables to Hogsmeade today. The nargles are singing about it."
Draco tried hard to stay on topic, even though Luna's answer, like all her answers, begged a hundred other questions. "But why radishes?"
Luna held her ears protectively. "Avocado are heavy, and would hurt my ears."
Then she giggled, punching Draco lightly in the arm. "And I can't wear a cucumber at all silly, I'm a girl."
Draco opened and closed his mouth as the circuits relating to language comprehension in his brain burned out and reset a dozen times before he simply shook his head and gave it up as a bad job.
"We warned you Draco. Her answers are like a stunner that just ignores shields and follows you when you dodge." Neville said patting the poor Slytherin on the back.
Luna looked worried. "Aren't the radishes pretty? Should I have worn avocado instead? I do want to look pretty for you on my first Hogsmeade date." Luna said her sparkling blue eyes beginning to tear up.
Now this he knew. Proper date behaviour had been drilled into him by Narcissa Black. Whatever else Draco Malfoy was, a properly trained pure blood heir to a noble house, drilled in ass kissing and flattery from the cradle, his training carried him through the storm that was Luna Lovegood's first date as well as any wizard ever faced a storm.
"The radishes are lovely, and bring out the colour of your cheeks most perfectly!" Draco said taking up Luna's hands and kissing them.
Milicent Bulstrode smacked Fred and George firmly on the back of their heads.
"Why can't you Gryffindorks be that suave?" Milicent snarked.
"Because then you won't,' Began George
"Smack us!" Cheered Fred
Milicent smirked, then turned and gave them a hooded and smokey glance. "But I might spank you!"
She set out at a walk bordering on a trot, with two startled Gryffindor upper years chasing after her shouting half remembered bits of sonnets and popular lines from wizard wireless soap opera romances in an attempt to earn the Queen of Beaters interest.
Hermione looked at Harry and sighed. "At least Hufflepuff's can do Hogsmeade weekends without getting weird about it." She said, taking Harry's arm matter of factly. Harry nodded, then the two of them froze as they saw Neville greet Susan Bones who had been waiting for him outside the Hogwarts gate.
Neville walked towards her, and bent down to the ground before her. A white daisy with a Hufflepuff gold center grew from the ground. He plucked it and placed it shyly in Susan's hair. She reached out and gave him a hug, and as she did, the daisy stem grew through her hair sprouting other blossoms until she bore a living crown of daisies.
"Well that's just not fair is it?" Harry said, watching Neville be, well Neville.
Hermione nodded. "To be fair, he is widely acknowledged as the best snuggler in all of Hufflepuff, and turns into an actual plushy. Turning into the softest cuddliest badger in history is hard to beat in Hufflepuff."
Harry shook his head. "No, it's just his Nevillilness. If he turned into a porcupine, at least half the girls would cuddle him anyway."
Hermione grinned. "Good thing he hasn't got an ounce of Sirius in his nature, or witch kind would be defenseless."
- In Hogsmeade
Narcissa Black held up a collar of flashing gold bearing the name "Sir Humpsalot", attached to an improbably heavy leash chain of gold set with precious stones.
Sirius Black looked at them in horror. "You can't expect me to wear that! It's humiliating. I am the Lord of House Black, Merlin damn it Cissy, and you come and go at my command!"
Narcissa Black smiled and fluttered her lashes.
"Yes, yes. Does my Lord and Master need walkies? Does the great and powerful Lord of the Unconquered House Black perhaps wish to see his godson in his first Hogsmeade weekend, or would he like to see how that whole "kiss on sight" order and hundred Dementors circling over Hogsmeade react to you strolling in dressed in human form." Narcissa smiled.
Sirius snarled. He kept himself from physically shaking with effort. A decade as food in Azkaban left marks on his soul the ritual hadn't fully healed. He wouldn't break into a panic attack, he had gotten that much back, but the memories remained a bitter poison in his mind.
"You could have at least called me Padfoot." Sirius grumped.
Narcissa smiled innocently. "But what if Severus knew that name? You know he hates you more than he hates Longbottom for breaking your record for blowing up cauldrons in class. I am only thinking of your safety."
Sirius sighed, then shifted into the form of a great black Grim, a dog larger than an Irish Wolfhound, and far more muscular. The black of its fur seemed to cause light to fade around it, and its eyes had the power to inspire fear into whoever met them.
Narcissa snapped the collar around her cousin's neck.
"Besides, dear cousin. From what I had to listen to after every Hogsmeade weekend from the girls in Slytherin, and from what I can tell, every other house, you practically copyrighted the name Sir Humpsalot in Hogsmeade. You should be happy enough to wear it again officially."
Sirus, now in his padfoot form, looked up at Narcissa and whined. She connected the leash, and the two of them went strolling into Hogsmeade to meet the children. This was Draco's first date at Hogsmeade. She hoped he spent it honestly trying to experience being just Draco and not strutting around as a pretend lord as Lucius had in their first Hogsmeade date. She had felt jealous of the girls Lucius seduced, because he at least tried to be Lucius with them, not the little lord Malfoy performance she always got. Not that anyone would be getting anything from Lucius since she cursed his bits off.
When a Black wife cut ties with her ex-husband, she cuts them right off.
- Harry and Hermione date.
Hermione looked at Harry warily, the goblin boy hadn't seemed perturbed by being outperformed in overt romantacism by the rest of their cohort.
"So Harry, what sort of date have you got planned for us? Honeydukes or Fortescues for something sweet? Or are you going to dare the lace of Madame Twining's tea emporium?" Hermione asked, willing to humour a Harry Potter attempt at romance. I mean, goblin's were good at greed and violence, not really renowned for romance.
Harry puffed out his chest, which granted for a trained beater going through puberty in a properly fitted dress shirt did show off some decent muscles for a wizard.
"Flourish and Blots. They are having an invite only rare book sale for tomes from an estate sale from LeStrange Manor. Obscure and possibly even forbidden texts of magics not known or at least not available to any outside the most ancient and dark families are for sale. Cash only of course, but I happen to have mom send me my vault linked money pouch by Hedwig, so I could probably buy the store itself and not notice."
Hermione Jean Granger squealed like Pansy Parkinson set loose in a clothing store with a gift card. Her eyes lit up like a dragon set loose in the Gringotts central gold reserve, and her claws dug into his arm like they might draw blood. Harry smirked. Goblins knew greed. Why is it witches and wizards both thought that meant only gold?
The way to a book witchs' heart was through rare and forbidden tomes. Sure, he might have to put down the occasional summoned demon or released Djinii, but he was sure if he played his cards right, she would be snogging his socks off before he used his wind charms to get the dust carefully off books no sane person would touch.
Lucius Malfoy decided to make Sirius first kill in front of the rented security wizards at the Flourish and Blots auction. Nothing like professional guards as witnesses, and the crowd at Flourish and Blots contained enough pure blood members of powerful families to be impossible for the ministry to ignore.
Stepping out behind Harry and Hermione as they passed, he struck a pose and gave his best villainous laugh, loving how much more intimidating it sounded coming from Sirius thuggish chest.
"You dare pollute my godson with your filthy mudblood hands witch? I am Sirius Black, the right hand of Voldemort himself. I will wash him clean in your blood."
Lucius watched as four guards and one witch from the crowd drew their wands and turned on him. He gloried in the shouts of "Sirius Black!" he heard, knowing his polyjuice was no illusion and any attempts at dissilusionment or enchantment breaking would fail, because he was wearing the actual flesh of Sirius black (1979 at least).
Lucius snapped out his flame whip without incantation, the only way the Dark Lord taught it, and watched it track to strike Hermione about the throat as she turned. With a mad grin on his face, he waited to watch the mudblood's head fly off, to see Harry Potter's face awash in the life blood of his first date.
"Seriously? You are using fire whip on me? The real Sirius would know way better than that." Hermione said, not bothering to draw her wand, simply tapping her foot in mild irritation.
"I AM SIRIUS BLACK, Inflamarae!" Lucius snarled, this time casting his most powerful fire spell. If he couldn't cut her in half, he would burn the flesh off her bones, and leave Harry remembering her death screams as his first date memory.
Oddly, she didn't scream. Worse, Harry didn't rush to defend her.
"Are you even old enough to shave? I mean, you barely look older than I am. Sirius Black is pushing forty on a short stick, just out of doing a decade in Azkaban, his hair is thinning, and grey, he hasn't got enough muscle on him to keep his ribs off display. I mean, Azkaban is not a health spa, its literally wizarding prison hell. How can I take you Siriusly?" Harry demanded.
Worse, the witch in the middle of the firestorm didn't scream, she talked.
"Harry, this clearly isn't Sirius, and I am really excited about the auction, can we just leave this wierdo to security?" Hermione asked, stepping out of the flames, seemingly unharmed.
"Petrificus Totalus" "Stupify" "Incarcerous" Two security wizards and Amelia Bones, head of the DMLE who was going to a book sale on her day off volleyed spells at the so called Sirius Black.
Lucius disappeared into the black smoke of the Death Eater transport spell to avoid the attacks and fled, his mission failed.
Amelia Bones watched as Harry Potter and his date entered the auction at Flourish and Blots and tapped her lips with her wand. She knew Sirius Black. She had served with him during the war, and even then, he didn't look that young. She saw the wizard photos of his Azkaban pictures. Sirius Black today was the wreckage of that man in her memory, Azkaban was most definitely not a health spa.
Her monocle showed that the so called Sirius Black was not under any illusion, but at the same time, he looked at best 18. Sirius Black was 33 years old, with the last ten at Azkaban making him look closer to fifty than twenty. Was someone using an old sample of Sirius for polyjuice, or a metamorphmagus using an old photo of Sirius to imitate? Whoever they were, Lord Sirius Orion Black was not the correct answer.
Oh well, the auction was starting. Work could wait until Monday. There were books to be had!
-Madame Twinings Tea Emporium, Hogsmeade
Neville Longbottom held out the gilded chair for Susan Bones in a display of old fashioned manners that would have looked out of place at any other student frequented facility than Madame Twinings.
In the forest of lace doilies, fine tea sets and overdone Victorian and Edwardian twee that looked like it robbed every period romance drama from the last century of its sets and decoration, it fit right in.
Several tables of witches without dates who came to Madame Twinings Tea Emporium to discuss romance dramas and novels watched the cute young couple engaging in the formal dance of courtship with the seriousness and sincerity possible only by those with absolutely no experience with romance, but a small but seriously intensive lifetime devouring romantic poetry and fiction.
The two of them had eye only for each other as they lived out a scene that would have fit seamlessly into Pride and Prejudice or any of the doomed aristocratic love saga set during the French Revolution.
It was safe to say that every witch and the two gay wizards enjoying their own date had all quietly repositioned their chairs so they could take in Neville Longbottom and Susan Bone's first date as the true period romantic drama that it was. Pure in the way that only those with no real world experience could appreciate romance as a spiritual art, rather than the sweaty hormonal business that would later corrupt it.
When Lucius Malfoy decided Sirius Black would have to start his killing spree with the Longbottom brat and Amelia Bone's own niece, it was for the best strategic reasons. He needed Amelia not to think, to react emotionally and accept Sirius Black's guilt. Lucius knew that last war killed all of the Bones family except Amelia and her niece Susan. Killing Susan would break Amelia, and she would accept Sirius was not only guilty, but must die before given the chance to defend himself.
Strategically, it was a good plan. Tactically, ambushing the two cutest beings on the planet enjoying a first date that was so perfectly approaching the romantic ideal that an entire overpriced tea shop devoted to commercializing the myth of romance was about as wise as attempting to sacrifice a cat to Cthulhu in the middle of a Cat Witches of the World convention.
Lucius stormed through the door, which chimed with a cute bell, followed by the twittering of birds in a way that annoyed Lucius as being entirely trying to hard at cute.
"I am Sirius Black, and I am here to kill you for your Aunt's imprisoning me so many years ago. I will bring your head to the Dark Lord as an offering and take again my place at his right hand." Lucius said, knowing the degree of extra in the tea shop was affecting his sense of drama, but being a former theater major, failing to resist the urge.
Neville Longbottom raised his chin and shouted back. "Sirius Black was a true romantic. He would never stand in the way of true love. You are an imposter!"
Lucius was really getting sick of these blood Hufflepuffs. Honestly, who talks about romance when they are being murdered?
This time his flame whip lanced out like it was supposed to, and wrapped itself around a desperate last minute shield as Neville Longbottom's beater reflexes allowed him time to scream out a desperate "PROTEGO!"
Lucius was really getting annoyed about being blocked. I mean at least this girl didn't ignore his flame whip altogether, but what was a third year doing having a Protego strong enough to resist him? Lucius was a Merlin be damned charms master. A MASTER. Not just an OWL or NEWT graduate, he pursued an actual mastery of charms. How is a student blocking him. It wasn't enough Narcissa cut his balls off, now he was feeling metaphorically emasculated by school children. Oh, no more mister nice wizard.
Lucius was a charms master, he knew all about what could and could not be blocked. There was no room to dodge, and no way to block an unforgiveable. Longbottom had lost his parents to the Cruciatus curse using pain to literally break his parents while the LeStranges and Barty Crouch Junior tried to torture the truth of what happend to Voldemort out of them. How will the brat react when his date lies broken and screaming before him?
Lucius put all his hatred, rage, and humiliation into the most powerful "CRUCIO!" he could cast, and the beam of scarlet malice was a spear made to shatter wills, bodies, and lives. It could not be blocked, and there was no room to dodge. The bolt shot at Susan Bone's like some twisted mockery of cupid's arrows as pictured in the paintings of Madame Twinings Tea House.
Nevill Longbottom yanked Susan Bones behind him and thrust himself forward into the path of the beam. The curse that had broken his parents hit his chest, punching right into his heart.
His jaw clenched, but he did not cry out. His body fell to the floor, arching in painful spasm as the strong and trained muscles of his body attempted to rip themselves apart as nerves fired endlessly in signals of pain far beyond any damage a human body could survive. Neville writhed in pain, but his face was a snarling mask of a badger with his teeth in its prey and unwilling to let go.
"NEVILLE!" Susan Bones cried out, fumbling for her wand and aiming at Lucius. She cast a knockback jinx at him with all her force, but as a charms master his Protego sluffed it off easily. He struck a pose and prepared his villain speech, intending to monologue before killing the girl, leaving a broken Longbottom to remember being helpless to defend her, and forever ready to hunt Sirius Black down for revenge.
It was a decent plan, were it not for the fact that a room full of die hard romantics had just watched the epitome of young love act out the finest romantic tragedy in front of them. Now each one of those witches and wizards were given the option to strike a blow for love, and neither the wards nor walls of Madame Twinings Tea House were up to stopping it.
Sady for Lucius, even Voldemort at his best would have struggled to stand against the spellfire that tore his finest shields to bits and blasted him through the front wall, missing the softer door by about a foot. He transformed to smoke half way through, thus avoiding the impaling silver spears, stone balls, and one fist made of living flame that tried to blot him from existence.
It took twenty minutes for him to cast enough healing spells to be able to make a final attempt at getting Sirius his public murder, and at the very least, recover Lucius heir for reprogramming.
That twenty minutes saw Susan Bones stroking Neville Longbottom's hair and mopping his manly brow as he used her lap as a pillow and scores of romance fanatic witch and wizards inscribed the events of this little school age romance drama into what would be the leading story in Witch Weekly in the next week.
Outside, the cries of the witches and wizards for the Dementors to come and kiss that monster Sirius Black grew louder and louder.
-Interlude. Longbottom Manor, days later.
To say Longbottom manor and its great Lady Augusta was surprised at the veritable clout of owls descending on her was putting it mildly. Hundreds of letters from witches from Nevilles age to beyond lady Augusta's pouring out their admiration, adoration, and some rather frankly stated descriptions of affections and attendant actions, no less than four offers of marriage, was almost more than Lady Augusta could take.
Her Neville was a sex symbol? Or at least romantic idol. Neville? Lady Augusta switched from tea to whiskey before the last owl came in from Amelia Bones, suggesting a meeting between the Heads of House Bones and House Longbottom on matters pertaining to the growing closeness of their heirs.
Augusta choked on her whiskey. Her Frank had been the ideal son, the picture of everything a mother could hope for; brave, bold, and manly in every way a witch could want. Still, it was Neville that ignited a firestorm of witchly affection across the face of Britain, France, Germany, Italy, and from one of the letters, Sweden. It was possible she was getting too old for this. The shocks were a bit much for a witch of her years. I mean, she had a release form here for Witch Weekly wanting to use his picture for their next cover.
Neville. Her little timid Neville. What had she missed, all those years she couldn't see him lost in the shadow of his famous and fallen father?
-Three Broomsticks Pub, Hogsmeade weekend
Narcissa Black, the great black Grimm known as Sir Humpsalot, Milicent Bulstrode and a pair of matching Weasley's sat behind a table in the private room of the Three Broomsticks watching young Draco Malfoy and Luna Lovegood enjoy their first official date at Hogsmeade.
Fred finally nerved himself up enough to speak.
"Don't you think spying," Fred began
"on your son's first date," continued George
"Is a little creepy?" They concluded in stereo.
Narcissa sniffed. "Gryffindors. You can't really educate them, although it seems you are at least house breaking these ones." Narcissa said giving a mildly approving nod to Milicent.
"Listen boys. I love my son Draco, and I used to know him. Recently, I am seeing signs that I may not know this new Draco, and that beyond loving my son, there may be actual grounds to both like him, and dare I say, be proud of him."
Narcissa smiled. "There are seven of you little ginger beasts running around at last count. I am willing to bet that enough time has past since the first of you left home that whoever they think they meet when they see you is somewhere beyond a memory and a fantasy, far from a fact. I would hazzard what you think you know about your younger siblings is at least as wrong."
Narcissa's face went cold. "Lived hang on the decisions we make about our family. I cannot afford to be wrong. Slytherin cunning isn't about plotting, no matter what my dear Lucius liked to think. It is about learning things you don't know, and working even harder to find out the things you used to know that are no longer true."
Draco was being a perfect gentleman to a bemused little blond with radishes hanging off her ears instead of jewelry. She had her wand tucked behind one ear, but she stared at Draco dreamily. Honestly, Narcissa didn't know what to make of the girl, she was either a seer or a madwoman. The Zabini woman was a seer, and probably serial killer, so it was possible to be both.
Draco had missed a bit of icing that stuck to his nose. Narcissa frowned. She trained him better than that. Luna leaned forward and kissed it off his nose, ending with a flirty lick.
Narcissa hissed. This was NOT done. The two ginger idiots were applauding madly and even the Bulstrode girl was nodding as Draco blushed and the two of them just stared deeply into each other's eyes. It was like something out of those romance novels that so many witches obsessed over. How common.
Narcissa sighed. Fine. This was not the Draco she had trained, nor was it a little imitation Lucius, ready to toady to the Dark Lord and his father, shaming his Black Blood with every breath, but honestly just about living down to the Malfoy name. Malfoy does mean bad faith after all. He may have gone a touch, Narcissa shuddered to think it, Hufflepuff, but being in touch with his actual feelings may have brought out the Dragon that slept in his blood, rather than the toady his father had cultivated.
Lucius Malfoy in the guise of Sirius Black watched through the pub window as his son and heir conducted a ridiculous display of public affection like some Hufflepuff in love, or some Gryffindor in mating season. With a Lovegood of all things! Sure technically they were pure bloods, and they were not Weasley poor by any means, but they didn't care about their social position or their money. They were middle class and okay with that. Honestly, if there was anything that drove a Slytherin insane it was middle class complacency. Rule or die, sacrifice everything for the tiniest advance, lie cheat, and kill for even the smallest promotion. This was the way. There was no such thing as, "enough".
No son of his was being corrupted like that. Not while a little murder, and public framing of Sirius Black, could put Draco back on the slithery and narrow path of treachery.
Lucius bust through the doors and blasted the table between Draco and Luna with a shouted "Reducto!"
Draco showed a seekers reflexes as he dodged. Luna simply waived and pulled her wand out from behind her ear.
"I am Sirius Black, and I won't let a blood traitor Lovegood pollute a line that bears even a touch of the sacred Black Blood." Lucius said, striking a dramatic pose and beginning to chant.
"Avada Kad..." was as far as he got before Luna pointed her wand and shouted.
"Ridiculous!" The spell called upon the power of the Unreal to turn terror into laughter, fear into frivolity. On paper, it should not work on real targets. The use of Polyjuice potion blended the Unreal into the very flesh of Lucius Malfoy, as he drew chaos into himself to bear the flesh of another. The runes woven into Luna Lovegood sparkled, and the cup shaped rune Perthro, the rune of chaos shone with rainbow light.
The rainbow shot from Luna's wand and yanked down the too tight trousers of Lucius Malfoy, or Sirius Black, depending on if you counted soul or flesh.
Draco Malfoy was a trained duelist and as he spun out of his seat from the Redacto, he had covered his eyes from the splinters even as he drew his wand. The first casting of "Expelliarmus!" was reflexive. It's interaction with Ridiculous was unexpected.
With his trousers around his knees, Lucius as Sirius discovered leather pants around your knees make dodging impossible. The disarm spell hit him while he still sparkeld in the rainbow magic of Ridiculous. He gripped his wand with both hands, determined to hold it.
For this reason he missed the ripping of his underwear and the cuccumber and avacado pair that soared through the air to be caught by Luna Lovegood.
"Pretty people vegetables!" Luna cried happily, waving the anatomically suggestive cucumber and dangling avocado pair above her head in triumph.
Lucius shrieked as his junkless state was revealed to the world.
Virtally simutaneously a number of things happened.
Lucius Malfoy's dignity died, his ego suffered a crippling blow, and his focus on the current strategic objectives suffered.
The waitress who had ducked for cover under the table found herself facing the naked and rather less than rumoured impressive crotch of the renegade Sirius Black. She shouted without thought.
"Sirius Black is wandless! Lord Black has neither twig nor berries!" She shrieked.
Colin Creevy, who could not bear to be without his camera, showed the reflexes of a future reporter, probably not a long lived one, as he brought his magical camera to bear.
Draco Malfoy, desperate to get his training to work in a real life or death fight tried his spell again,
"Expelliarmus!" Draco shouted, hearing Sirius Black cry out as his wand lept from his hand to slap into Draco's.
Meanwhile, in the back room. The real Sirius Black transformed back into a man, still with the golden "Sir Humpsalot" collar on, and was being restrained by a frantic Milicent Bulstrode and two Weasley twins as he tried to simultaneously charge the door and undo his own leather breaches. Narcissa cast her best muffling charms, feeling a serious Gryffindor headache coming on.
"Sirius Black has a wand, and the biggest pair of plumbs you will ever see!" Sirius screamed as he tried to leave the warded and secret room and get himself arrested along side the imposter, just to prove his junk was both real and respectable.
In the Three Broomsticks, Lucius saw the flash of a camear go off, and his quick wandless Protego failed to protect his dignity from a picture showing his disarmament in both senses of the word.
Draco Malfoy looked at the familiar wand in his hand. This was his father's wand.
He looked at a very young and fit Sirius Black, a Sirius Black who seemed to have been gelded.
Draco Malfoy's blood began to boil. Sirius looked old. Like older than Father old. He had grey hairs and wrinkles, but he had seen the man change. He had junk. More than he should, and even in his dog form it was a little hard to ignore. Father on the other hand had been gelded by Mother when she tried to widow herself, and settled for divorce at wand point.
Lucius Malfoy had just tried to murder DRACO"S FIRST DATE!
He admitted the Hufflepuff Hermione's insistance that each of them wear a potions belt was a little paranoid, but a hidden advantage wasn't something a Slytherin would ever turn down. When Harry Potter offered a vial of Thief's Downfall, the fact it was a goblin potion no wizard could buy was enough to make his Slytherin avarice demand he accept it. You couldn't buy it, beg it, or blackmail your way to having it. It was goblin exclusive, and Draco could just casually pat his belt and know it was there.
Of such things are Slytherin smiles born. Draco never dreamed he would actually use it. He drew the vial and threw it at the so called Sirius Black, and watched the vial shatter on the Protego shield.
Thief's downfall potion spattered Lucius Malfoy, and the Gringotts potion designed to strip away glamours, polyjuice transformations, and even interrupt Imperious ripped through Lucius Malfoy.
Pants around his knees, his junkless state for all to see, Lucius Malfoy in his full blond aristocratic greatness was displayed for the Three Broomsticks.
Draco Malfoy realized his father had attacked him, and Draco had defeated him in magic. He, the Heir of Malfoy had been challenged in fact if not in intent by Lord Malfoy and Lord Malfoy had lost. Draco held up his father's wand and shouted at him.
"Father, you have dared to raise a wand against me in open combat. You have striven to murder my date, and you have exposed yourself in public. You are not fit to lead the house of Malfoy. By manifest right of conquest, I claim the Lordship." Draco shouted.
He brought the two wands, his own, and his fathers together, his own on top, and Lucius gave a strangled cry as Magic heard Draco's challenge, and deemed it just. The family magic of the Malfoy's was cold and opportunistic. It hated failure and loved success, it desired power and greatness. It flared into life and Lucius hand flashed forward as the House Malfoy Lord's ring soared through the air towards Draco.
Colin Creevy's camera flashed again. The picture of Draco Malfoy looking regal and cold, the two wands crossed in his hands as he spoke the words of judgement clashed with Lucius Malfoy, lord of the Wizagamot, head of the Hogwarts Board of Governors with his pants around his ankles, his gelded state on display, and his lords ring immortalized sailing gently from his hand, to his son's.
In the Three Broomsticks, Lucius Malfoy, no longer lord of anything, was wrestled to the ground and bound for Aurors by two waitresses and a Ravenclaw Prefect who didn't like his own date being interrupted either.
In the back room Milicent restored to summoning her beater bat and clobbering Lord Sirius Orion Black who had gotten one hand free and his belt undone.
"Keep your pants on you furry pervert, there are minors present." Milcent roared.
"Plus, Lucius just got arrested for impersonating you. If you rush out there you will get arrested too, and he might be able to bribe enough people to think you were bad guy in whatever other nonsense he has been up to while polyjuiced!" Milicent said, punctuating each point with another blow to the head.
"Give it a rest woman! You are going to kill me if you keep this up." Sirius shouted, ducking from the blows and stopping trying to reveal his manhood to a disbelieving public.
"Pants on pervert, and sit down!" Milicent said coldly, and Sirius obeyed. He eyed the two Gryffindor beaters with sullen anger. Honestly, two good Gryffindor boys like you, honest Weasley's how can you put up with this..." Sirius self-preservation kicked in, or his linguistic skills failed him as he failed to come up with a descriptor for Milicent Bulstrode.
Fred smiled happily. "Public nudity,"
George beamed "chains, canings!"
Then together "All on the first date!"
They high fived and Milicent began to pound her head slowly into the table.
"I feel a Gryffindor headache coming on. How do you treat those?" Milicent said, turning her pleading eyes on Narcissa Black, a Slytherin alumni and Sirius cousin.
Without a word, Narcissa poured the underage girl three fingers of whiskey and slid it across. They clinked glasses, sipped their whiskey, and observed the goings on outside.
-Flourish and Blots auction house, the aftermath.
Since reports of Sirius Black activity all over Hogsmeade had been flooding Auror stations, teams with Dementors had been searching frantically. Too many Dementors too far from their controlling agents had the expected results.
The Dementors broke free of control. They could feel Harry Potter, a target their collective consciousness had been given in the past by Lucius Malfoy, a target that had caused them actual suffering. They gathered howling in rage and hunger, and descended on Hogsmeade.
Harry and Hermione were coming out of the auction, both pleased with their purchases. Nothing happier than a bookworm with fresh books, or a goblin with an acquisition at far below appraised value, when the Dementors spotted them.
Amelia Bones, head of the DMLE felt the Dementors before she saw them. With the reactions of a veteran, she had her wand up and her Patronus flared to life. The silver Grimm charged the dozens of Dementors who were swarming, and two of them fled at its coming.
She swore. Survived the war, died on my day off without even getting to read to book I bought. Amelia thought that was Bones luck for you, consistent and always bad. Just then the gathering dark caused by the Dementors was hurled back as a Phoenix burst from the wand of young Hermione Granger.
The Phoenix was so bright it was hard to look at, and a dozen Dementors fled as the Phoenix Patronus took to the sky. Amelia had to avert her eyes from the phoenix, so bright was its flaming silver form, so she was looking right at Harry Potter.
"No more. I have let these things terrify and harass my people for too long. No more. DO YOU HEAR ME VERMIN!"
The sky split with lightning as bolts of jagged lightning ripped through the dark sky and flayed the Dementors, even as the wind began to howl and swirl as a cyclone formed out of nowhere.
Harry's Sowelo rune, the jagged lightning bolt scar in his forehead blazed in the reflected lightning, and the goblin silver of it seemed to catch flame.
"$ EXPECTO PATRONUM! $" Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived was supposed to be the saviour of wizarding Britain. Dumbledore promised that under his guidance, the boy would somehow destroy He Who Must Not Be Named. Amelia Bones had put no trust in that, nor the rumoured prophesy everyone whispered of, but no one knew the details of.
This day, she believed.
From Harry's wand a Basilisk extended, it grew to an easy seventy feet and swam through the air like it was water.
$ Kill them, rend them, flay them! Tear them from my sky! $ Harry hissed, and power poured from his want in a never ending stream, twisting and curling like a living serpent as the Basilisk grew another sixty feet until it dominated the sky.
The eyes of the basilisk patronus opened, and a golden light blasted from those eyes like the blast wave of collapsing wards on a Gringotts vault or government super secure facility. A muggle might wonder if a nuclear weapon had been used.
Where the light struck the Dementors, they fell from the sky. Dozens of them fell, and the rest broke to flee. The Basilisk hissed its fury and gave chase, the flaming silver phoenix diving in to rake with burning claws again and again, each strike causing another Dementor to fall from the sky.
Amelia Bones jumped as a Dementor hit the ground beside her, unmoving. Dementors were less than half physical. The idea of a Dementor's body landing on the ground beside her was impossible to process. They were almost unkillable, that is why the Ministry made a devil's bargain with them all those years ago. They would never be able to fight the Dementors of Azkaban without losing most of the Auror corps at the time. That was when the Auror corps had been strong, well trained, and vital, not the sick joke post war budget cuts and constant Malfoy led "accommodations" had turned her Auror corps into.
She used her own Patronus to summon the ready reaction force from Headquarters. Then she send another for Alastor Moody. Sure Mad Eye wasn't what you would call reasonable, and should never be allowed around the press, but there was nothing about facing dark creatures or magic he didn't know, even if he shouldn't.
-Hours later, DMLE inspection of the Dementor attack.
"This is dark magic, Amelia." Said Dumbledore. "There is no living creature, not even a basilisk that can petrify a Dementor."
Mad Eye was poking one with his battle staff and laughing happily.
"Bollocks Dumbledore. You know phoenix can kill them, unicorns can kill them, ki-rin can kill them. The fact that Dragons kill them is why there is a government sponsored sanctuary that eats half the magical creature department budget that just so happens to be at the closest point of contact between the Hebrides Islands and Azkaban."
Dumbledore looked down his nose at Mad Eye Moody. "The phoenix is a creature of light, as is the Unicorn, their touch is destruction for something that is made of darkness, hatred and hunger.
Moody nodded. "And the dragon is just Magic's answer to kill them all and lets see what grows back next cycle. They are wild Albus, not dark, not light. They are wild magic's answer to anything witches or wizards get stupid enough to create and not be able to stop."
Dumbledore frowned. Knowing the text Alastor got that from, and remembering he had it banned and he swore, burned to the last copy. The people had to turn to the light for hope against the darkness, not the untamed power of wild magic. The Dark was too tempting, its gifts were too sweet and poison. People needed to know only the Light could save them.
"Alastor my old friend, this was no dragon. This was a basilisk, a creature of the dark, of evil." Dumbledore said in his best grandfatherly voice.
"Up yer arse Dumbledore. I have my NEWT in magical creatures and you didn't even OWL in them. A basilisk is a great bloody magical snake. It isn't dark, it isn't light, it is freaking dangerous, but gets hungry only every few years, so is honestly less likely to kill you than drinking and apparating, or telling Augusta Longbottom what you think of her hat." Moody made a very rude gesture with his fingers in case Dumbledore was unclear what Moody had meant by the whole up the spout quip, grinning as Dumbledore's grandfatherly smile died and the old man flicked his wand out.
Amelia Bones intervened before her two experts could start shooting at each other. "Whatever opinions you may have about basilisk, or phoenix for that matter, these were no more creatures than my own Grimm is. They were patronus. Patronus are symbols of hope, of trust, of joy, are pure expressions of abstract love for magic and the world.
They are not creatures. They do not get the powers of the thing whose shape they mimic. They are just a blob of spiritual power, a bit of esoteric magic powered by joy and love that drives back the dark. They don't petrify Unreal demons of despair." Amelia objected firmly.
Alastor poked the petrified Dementor, then kicked it with his fake leg.
"This one did. Ruddy love to know if he can teach that." Mad Eye chuckled again, leaning on his staff, letting the defensive runes on it blaze in silent warning that Dumbledore's earlier challenge had not been forgotten.
Dumbledore shook his head. "We cannot tell the people that a dark creature saved them from the Dementors."
Amelia finally snapped at her old teacher, and chief Warlock of the Wizagamot.
"We don't have to tell them anything Albus, they bloody saw it. I am, for once, just going to report the truth. The Boy Who Lived summoned his patronus and drove off the better part of a hundred Dementors who were running wild and attacking Hogsmeade."
As Albus began to object, she held up her hand and stopped him.
"I will tell you what I told Minister Fudge. I will lie under orders about what the public does not need to know, like the petrified Dementors. I disagree, but I will obey. I will not try to tell the people of Hogsmeade that the Dementors didn't attack them, and a great sparkly basilisk patronus saved us all. They saw, and they are already sharing pictures of it.
I will lie if I have to, but I will not make a fool out of myself telling people in a rainstorm that it's a sunny day. At some point, I have a duty to the DMLE to keep some scraps of credibility."
Dumbledore sighed. She was right. It was too late. Things were slipping farther and farther from his control.
-DMLE Headquarters, Ministry of Magic.
"Here is your wand, Lucius. I don't know how you thought that was going to go, but from where I am looking you had best run, because your name, your money, and even your title aren't worth a muggle's chances in Azkaban." Walden McNair said, standing over the body of the Auror he had just cut down.
"You had best run back to the Dark Lord and beg his forgiveness. Your position was what made you valuable to his return, nothing else. Now you don't even have that. Take your lumps, scream for a little while, beg at his feet until he gets bored, and he might raise you up again." McNair advised, unaware how far the Dark Lord had fallen at the moment.
Lucius snarled. "I will not. I haven't lost yet. I do not need the Dark Lord to beat a group of teenage brats not even past their OWLS!"
McNair shrugged, checking he got the nick out of his executioners axe. "Well, so far its brats many, Death Eaters nil, so you had best correct that before you face the Dark Lord and he asks why people are laughing at his chosen acolytes."
Walden McNair walked to the Ministry Floo and departed. Lucius followed, before word of his escape could force the Ministry to lock down the building. There would be another day.