June 23, 1994
"Here you go."
Ivy and Draco both accepted the mandrake leaves from Luna. Ivy plopped hers in her mouth without a second thought but Draco eyed his without moving.
"This had better be worth it," he said, before sighing and placing the leaf in his mouth as well. To his credit, he only gagged slightly.
"Now if you like I can perform a flattening charm on you both. It makes talking much easier."
Charm cast, both Ivy and Draco set out for the Quidditch field where Buckbeak was currently basking in the summer sun.
"I can't believe he's following me," Draco said.
"He's not following you."
"He hates me."
"No, he doesn't."
"Does too."
"If he hates you why would he follow you?"
It took Draco a moment to find a suitable refutation for that argument. "He obviously means to continue to torment me throughout the summer."
"You could just not visit."
"Rude. Besides, that would mean I would be carrying around this disgusting leaf in my mouth for no reason. I'm not stupid enough to attempt an animagus transformation on my own."
"Like Sirius, you mean?"
"They were Gryffindors. What else can you expect?"
"My dad was a Gryffindor too."
"Well, obviously your mother managed to raise his overall level of intelligence."
"She was a Gryffindor too."
"I'm not going to win this one, am I."
"Probably not."
Harry never particularlylovedattending Wizengamot sessions, but today was proving to be especially trying given the number of people who had spent the last century or so perfecting their passive-aggressive insults. Not towards him, mind you, but most certainly to each other. And here he was, stuck in the middle, listening to yet another rendition of Lord Hunnicutt and Lady Waldroup's verbal war. Half their fellow centenarians were asleep at this point, having most likely heard it all before over the last many decades. There couldn't possibly bethatmany new ways to insult the same person over and over again.
The story, as Harry had learned quite unwillingly from Lucius, who believed to be of the utmost importance that he know the personal and family histories of everyone on the Wizengamot for some reason, was that once upon a time, most likely before Harry's grandparents were even thought of, Edward Hunnicutt and Cecilia Thorburn had been betrothed, though neither could stand the other. The betrothal was broken by their parents, who had miraculously come to realize that such a marriage was more likely to result in bloodshed than the much hoped for continuation of the family lines. While pleased at the overall outcome, both Hunnicutt and Thorburn blamed the other for the embarrassment of a broken betrothal, and now, a century or so later, Lord Edward Hunnicutt and Lady Cecilia Waldroup née Thorburn continued to wage verbal warfare against the other.
And again, Lucius had forced all this knowledge on Harry, and Harry most certainly did not thank him for it.
So yes, today had been rather trying thus far.
Oh, and he hadn't had time to do much with the goblins' annotated list of Umbridge's blackmail efforts, so it was yet another Wizengamot session with nothing productive happening in that regard. Yet somehow the worded javelins being hurled across the room still managed to be the foremost cause of annoyance on this particular day.
He missed the days before Lucius's unwelcome fountain of knowledge when he had truly thought that Hunnicutt and Waldroup were simplyveryopinionated about tea and the number of ministry-owned owls.
June 24, 1994
"I'm surprised you're here," Remus said softly. "I thought you hated these sorts of things."
"Lucius was being particularly obstinate," Severus replied with a particularly hard sideways glance.
"Oh like you can't out stubborn him any day of the week."
"He enlisted Narcissa's help."
Remus grimaced at that. If Narcissa Malfoy told you to come to dinner, you would be at dinner, hence Remus's own presence here only one day after the full moon.
Lucius looked down the table at their assembled guests. He would never have imagined this particular grouping of people, yet here they all were, a half-hour into dinner with no wands having been drawn. Yet. Having the director of the DMLE sitting across from the man formerly known as Barty Crouch Jr. was not doing anything good for his blood pressure, but so far things were fine. It was all fine.
Harry wondered whose brilliant idea it had been to have Barty sitting across from Amelia Bones, but he really didn't want to think too hard about it because if he did he would certainly start thinking about the whole "Am I a dark lord?" question and the "Is hiding a wizard that is technically a fugitive even if no one knows he's a fugitive because they all believe him to be dead even though he is sort of innocent a dark lord thing?" question. And, as previously stated, he didn't want to think too hard about it.
He needed to find another topic…
"So Thomas, tell us about your plans."
As the young Mr. Harrington began explaining his plans, Harry mentally patted himself on the back for finding a sufficiently diverting topic of conversation. He also completely understood now why Samira was not looking forward to her son's departure. After having finally learned in-depth about the magical side of Australia Harry couldn't say he would be excited to see a child off to that continent either, but at least Thomas was unlikely to bring something back with him.
He would need to remind Ivy that unaccompanied international floo travel was off limits.
"Neville has improved greatly over this past year, even mastering the Patronus charm."
Amelia had heard rumors, but Augusta's confirmation of that was still a bit surprising, though she carefully did not let it show.
"He decided against attempting an animagus transformation this year, which is probably for the best. Improvement or not, transfiguration isnothis strong suit."
"He was going to attempt an animagus transformation?" Amelia couldn't quite keep the incredulousness out of her voice.
"Well, Miss Potter certainly extended the invitation enough times, though I've been led to understand that only Mr. Malfoy has decided to join her."
Amelia took another sip of wine to give herself a moment to process that before she would have to respond. Oh, she had heard plenty about Ivy Potter from a variety of sources over the past few years, but an animagus transformation? At age thirteen?
Her thoughts were well occupied by that subject for several minutes until she caught a bit of conversation further down the table from where she sat.
"…just a Hippogriff this time. I'm still half convinced I'm going to come home to a dragon one of these days," Lord Peverell was saying, sounding entirely serious as far as she could tell.
"Well, you're more than welcome to take the wolves back anytime," the soon-to-be Lady Black responded.
"Just no toads, please," the young Mr. Harrington said, sounding more concerned than jesting.
Sirius snorted at that, but Peverell was the one to reply. "Don't worry," he said, "I'll make sure she doesn't illegally breed a basilisk."
Amelia wondered why so few people looked concerned. If nothing else, though, this evening was shedding a bit more light on some of Susan's stories from Hogwarts. She'd have to ask Lucius to fill in some of the details later.
"…finally resolve that whole business with Umbridge…"
There were many days where Severus dearly wished it hadn't turned out to be his lot in life to deal with adolescents day in and day out, but at leasthewasn't having to deal directly with this Umbridge nonsense.
"…didn't the goblins insinuate there was a great deal of blackmail going on…"
"…bordering on extortion…"
"…even collect so many secrets…"
Severus very nearly snorted to himself when he saw the deceptively uninterested look on Madam Bones' face. She was most certainly taking very thorough mental notes at the moment. At least no one had been idiotic enough to mention the prevailing desire to simply murder the Undersecretary. One perk of having the majority of wizards involved in any of this Umbridge business somewhat terrified of Peverell was that when he told them "no murdering" they actually listened, and Merlin, what he wouldn't give for Peverell to show up to Hogwarts one day, tell all the students to not be idiots, and then have it have even a third of the effectiveness that his presence seemed to have on Severus's fellow former Death Eaters.
Well, there was always that little shrine that he hadn't bothered to rid the common room of for reasons that had nothing to do with its apparent effectiveness at curbing unwanted behavior…
"…glad if she stops bothering me."
Well that was one way for Parkinson to quickly gain the attention of the director of the DMLE and Peverell in one fell swoop. Both looked particularly interested in what was all but an admission of Umbridge having something on Parkinson. Based on the twitch in Peverell's eye, he could imagine what sort of conversation would be happening in the very near future, and based on the look Bones was giving Peverell now, well, those two would also likely be having a conversation. He would be very interested in witnessing the former, though he really couldn't say he would be thrilled to be present for the latter.
Harry was so very much regretting not having made the time to fully read through the goblins' packet before now. So much regret.
"So, is there anything you would like to tell me?"
There. Open, inviting, non-threatening, and not at all dark-lord-ish.
Simon did not seem to be appreciating Harry's efforts, but he was probably just concerned about whatever it was Umbridge had on him.
Except now Simon's nervousness was making Harry nervous, and he really just wanted this to be over with.
"Just spit it out, mate. Whatever it is I'm sure we can deal with it."
After Parkinson did, in fact, spit it out, Harry was almost sorry for having asked. At least Simon looked somewhat contrite about having illegally imported potions ingredients, but Harry really did not need to know the details of Simon's little Veritaserum antidote manufacturing side business. Or about just who the "clients" were. Now Harry felt obligated to do something about it, and he didn't want to feel that way. He had enough on his plate, thank you very much.
"And so does this little bit of blackmail have anything to do with why you haven't been as…vocal…in your dislike of Umbridge in the Wizengamot?"
"Well now, I don't think there is any question of where I stand in regards to her."
"Murder is not actually an option, you know."
"It could be."
Harry sighed. He needed to get this whole Umbridge mess over with as quickly as possible for the continued preservation of his sanity (or what he could salvage of it, at least).
On the other hand, at least a few more things made sense now.
June 27, 1994
"Your ten o'clock is here, director."
Amelia put the weekend reports aside just as Lord Peverell came in. Although she wasn't precisely looking forward to this meeting, she was at least curious to see where it would lead. She had met Peverell a few times over the past few years, ever since he came into her office and informed her that the most notorious murderer in recent wizarding history was, in fact, innocent. The other few times she had met with him had usually involved some other sort of headache-inducing problem, though thankfully none so severe as the issue with Sirius.
In short, she was curious, but could already feel the headache forming.
"Have a seat, Lord Peverell."
"Just Harry, please."
She raised an eyebrow at that, seeing as those who referred to him by his first name did not call him that.
As if knowing what direction her thoughts were going, "Harry" sighed and said, "Everyone insists on calling me Henry, but really, Harry is just fine. It goes perfectly fine with my last name."
There was certainly a story there, given the muttered nature of the last part, but Harry, as it seemed he preferred to be called, did not seem inclined to elaborate further and Amelia herself would rather get on with the primary purpose of their meeting so as to be done as soon as possible with whatever mess was almost inevitably about to be shown to her.
"Very well,Harry," she said. "Shall we get started?"
Four minutes. It took four minutes for that headache to fully manifest.
She almost pitied Dolores Umbridge for whatever she had done to get on Lord Peverell's bad side. Almost. Even still…
"Is any of this going to cause me or my department any problems, Lord Peverell?"
"No ma'am," he said hurriedly.
"Well I'm sure I would love nothing more than tonothear anything remotely worthy of an investigation. Nothing at all illegal, to be clear."
"Absolutely nothing. Nothing at all."
So he had already taken care of whatever mess Parkinson was involved in. A part of her felt she should inquire further, but part of her was just glad it was apparently resolved and no one had turned up dead. She could live with that for now, seeing as she had quite a few other things to deal with at the moment, not the least of which was the fact that an Undersecretary to the Minister was apparently blackmailing half the Wizengamot, not to mention the whole case file that had magically appeared over the weekend detailing a number of smuggling and customs fraud cases.
Oh, she wasn't an idiot. She knew this was most likely somehow linked to Parkinson, and in turn to Peverell, but she was also realistic and without any evidence that Peverell (or Parkinson, for that matter) had actually done anything illegal she was content to focus on the cases they did have evidence for. For now. She'd keep an eye on Peverell, of course, but she doubted she would ever find anything.
"Have you ever considered running for office? Minister, perhaps?"
She wasn't sure what surprised her more; the look of surprise on Harry's face at the change of topic, or the accompanying look of horror.
"No," he said with finality. "No, definitely not. No thank you. Bad enough I got dragged into the Wizengamot, there is no way I'm getting roped into something like that. Nope. Just, nope."
Amelia so very much wanted to ask. This wizard, the one clearly responsible for most of the changes that had come out of the Wizengamot over the past several months to those who knew what to look for, felt like he had been dragged there?
Oh, how she wanted to ask.
"What would you think of inviting Madam Bones to the next little get-together?"
"Before or after I formally introduce her to Barty and finish covering up everyone's little illegal side hobbies?" Harry deadpanned back to Lucius.
"Just a thought."
June 30, 1994
"She's like a cockroach that won't die," Harry complained, shrugging off his Wizengamot robe that somewhere along the line he had been manipulated into wearing. He still referred to wear it like he was "supposed to," preferring to wear it open over his much more comfortable dragon hide, but somewhere out there there was someone laughing at Harry Potter in a plum-colored robe sitting in a chamber engaging in "politics." Fate, most likely. And yes, those mental air quotes were entirely necessary.
"Oh, so is death an option again?"
"It never was!" Harry practically shouted, glaring at Sirius who only shrugged.
"It could be," Burke said, swirling his glass.
A few more nods of affirmation. Harry's eye twitched.
"We're not going to just kill her," Anthea said. Harry was so glad she had taken the last week of June. She seemed to be the sole remaining person with sense left in the room. "Far too messy now that we have rather publicly gone after her."
Never mind.
"I appreciate the conclusion," Harry said dryly, "if not the reasoning."
Anthea did not seem the least bit disturbed.
No one did.
For Merlin's sake, what was wrong with these people?
Harry glanced over the assembled group, most of whom were looking at him expectantly, and groaned. "For the last time, we are not killing anyone," he said as firmly as he could muster at the moment.
"Why, though?"
"Why are you even here, Barty?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Moral support," Barty deadpanned, unaffected by Harry's glare.
Harry bit back a retort. "No murder," he said finally, pointing a finger slowly around the room. "No murder. Am I clear?"
Several nods, one or two muttered "my lord's" that heverypointedly ignored, and a general (even if begrudging) consensus.
He was so done.
July 1, 1994
"Lord Peverell."
"Hello Harry, how are you Harry, nice to see you, Harry, no I'm most certainly not here to tell you that anyone has been murdered. Well hello to you too, Severus."
"Is this a bad time?"
Snape looked uncomfortable. Well, more so than usual. Harry could see that much from the very brief flicker of emotion that crossed the man's face and oh no now he felt bad.
"Sorry," Harry said with a bit of a sigh. "I'm just running out of ways to keep adult wizards from committing murder." Theagainwas left off, since both of them knew who was being referred to and what exactly some of them had (probably) done under the direction of a certain snake-faced dark lord. "So, what can I do for you?"
"Lord Peverell," Snape began again, only to be stopped by Harry who lifted his hand up.
"Please," he said, "Harry. Or Henry, I suppose, since most everyone else seems to insist on that, but really, there is no need for titles here."Or ever, Harry thought to himself, but that was probably wishful thinking at this point. He'd had some title or other since before he knew his own name and at least these weren't the worst ones he had ever had.
He might not have gotten Snape to call him Harry, but at least he had gotten away from the full title. He may or may not have completely convinced Snape that he would stand up for him against Dumbledore if and when that proved necessary, but Snape was very clearly trusting him to a certain extent, and that somewhat limited extent was honestly more than Harry would have expected not too long ago.
He would take what he could get.
July 6, 1994
"Do I need to ask?"
Harry didn't answer and didn't stop glaring at The Book in front of him. Yes, that book.
Remus huffed a sigh. "Alright then, I'll take that silence as confirmation that yes, I do need to ask. So consider this me asking. Harry?"
Harry finally looked up at his friend. "I'm having a crisis."
"Alright," Remus said carefully. "What sort?"
"Ethical maybe? Existential, moral… take your pick, I have no idea."
Remus looked carefully to the page open. "Ah. I see." Yes, the "How to be a dark lord" section of the book could certainly be contributing to said crisis.
"What am I even doing, Remus?"
Remus was instantly alerted to the weariness in Harry's voice and he felt a pang of guilt at not having realized sooner how much this was truly weighing on the wizard. For Merlin's sake, the man hadn't even reached thirty, and yet was trying to keep an entire country from plunging into chaos. Harry would probably scoff or shrug and say that wasn't what he was doing at all, but Remus had heard plenty of stories of Harry's old world and there was no doubt in his mind that already fully deceased dark lord or not, Harry was a necessary part of keeping things together. He might loathe and complain about the titles and the influence and the followers (though Merlin forbid anyone should saythatword out loud near him), but he had accomplished what few seemed able to do and had done so almost without trying.
Harry was a leader. Like it or not (and Remus knew Harry did not particularly like it), people were attracted to him. For a variety of reasons, yes, many of which had to do with his power both magical and political, but regardless, Harry had emerged as a leader in Wizarding Britain.
"And where is Sirius anyway?"
It took Remus a second to disengage himself from his previous line of thought and latch on to the new topic addition. "He's probably working on wedding preparations," he said after his brain finally made the leap.
Harry looked oddly horrified at that. Remus had a sneaking suspicion he knew why.
"Did you forget?"
"Not a word to Sirius," Harry demanded.
"Not a word," Remus agreed.
"I am the worst friend."
"Fairly certain you don't even qualify for consideration."
"First I forgot he was in Azkaban and now I forgot he's getting married in a week."
"To be fair you have been trying to prevent murder."
"You do realize neither Sirius nor Sabrina would count that as a valid excuse, right?"
"Which is why we're not telling them?"
"Which is why we're not telling them."
July 12, 1994
"Not that I'm not impressed, because I am, but is that going to be gone by tomorrow?"
"But Blaise,look at the fur."
"That's literally all I can look at right now. My eye is drawn to it and everything else fades into the background, which is why I'm going to ask it going to be gone by tomorrow?"
"Yes, yes, it'll be gone. Dad promised to help me with it if I couldn't get rid of it on my own."
Blaise sighed in relief.
"You know, you're rather worked up about the wedding," Ivy continued. "Maybe you need to relax."
"I do not need to relax," Blaise practically shouted, which didn't exactly disprove Ivy's point. He took a deep breath. "I just need this one to be perfect."
"Why?" Blaise's eye looked like it was about to twitch so Ivy continued. "I mean, I'm sure it will be, but why is this so important to you?"
"Because this is the one that we're actually happy about and must therefore outshine every previous wedding."
Ivy nodded, conceding the point. "That makes sense."
"And that fur will be gone by tomorrow."
"Of course."
"So what is it anyway?"
"No idea. Not a bird, I guess."
"Yes, I would think that would be a safe assumption at this point," Blaise said dryly, looking pointedly at the patch of fur on Ivy's neck. "But isn't that a bit backwards? I thought you were supposed to know what animal you were transforming intobeforetransforming into it."
Ivy just grinned.
Blaise rolled his eyes and sighed. "And of course you didn't because you're you and you're probably going to be something no one has ever heard of before or some magical creature that no one ought to be able to have as an animagus form."
"But not a bird."
"Guess that means you're not a dragon either, huh."
"Do you think that was an option?"
"I didn't think you got 'options' when it came to animagus forms."
"Just because no one ever has doesn't mean no one ever will."
"Well when you figure out how to do it, let me know."
"Alright."
"I was being sarcastic."
"Were you? I couldn't tell," Ivy said as sarcastically as she could, which was quite a bit.
"You're just trying to distract me from the wedding."
"Is it working?"
"No."
July 13, 1994
"What if something goes wrong?"
Harry went to say something but failed to get a single word out in time.
"I mean, this is such an important go wrong. But what if it does?"
"What's going to go wrong?" Harry asked wearily.
"Don'tsaythings like that. You'll jinx it."
"That's not how jinxes work," Harry said with exasperation.
"But it's you so they just might."
Harry sighed. "Look, everything is in place, the wedding will begin in ten minutes or so, andeverything is fine. Relax."
"How can you possibly tell me to relax at a moment like this?"
"Barty, it's not even your wedding. Why are you freaking out?"
"'It's not your wedding,'" Barty mimicked back.
"I didn't think you even liked Sirius that much."
"What does he have to do with it?"
"He's getting married," Harry deadpanned.
"Eh," Barty said with a shrug. "I suppose, but it's more of Sabrina's wedding if you ask me."
"They are getting married. To each other. It literally takes both of them to have the wedding in the first place."
"Debatable."
"It's really not."
"Everything is debatable if you try hard enough."
"You know, that explains so much," Harry said, doing his best to show Barty exactly how much he thought of that statement.
"It's not too late to join Blaise on our holiday,mia passerotta."
"I would love to, but I need to finish my animagus transformation. If I don't do it now then I'll have to wait an entireyear."
"And how is that going?"
"Well, I got a bit of fur yesterday."
"Well done,mia my almost grandson told me you only just began with the leaf."
Ivy looked guilty for the briefest of moments and Cesare contained a smile.
"Well, I may have sort of done the leaf already?"
"Are you asking me?" he said with an amused look on his face.
"No." Ivy took a quick breath. "I did the mandrake leaf part already. I wasn't sure if anyone else was going to do it with me, but then Draco said he would, and I felt bad, so I'm doing it again."
"I see," Cesare answered with a twinkle in his eye. "And you began the transformation already because…" he trailed off, waiting for her to fill in the rest.
"I got bored."
Cesare let out a strong laugh at that.
Percy shuddered.
"What was that for?" Thomas asked.
"Have you never heard anything about Cesare Zabini?"
Thomas glanced over to the man in question. "Well, yes, but what does that have to do with anything?"
"Thomas," Percy began.
"Alright, alright, I see your point. Powerful, scary wizard who could probably make someone disappear without a trace, or make it so it looks like they never existed in the first place. But what's the issue? He's practically Ivy's grandfather at this point."
"And you see absolutely nothing wrong with that?"
"No one will get away with hurting Ivy?"
"Lord Peverell has that taken care of, I think."
Thomas nodded in agreement.
"But that's not the point. Thepointis that when Ivy inevitably takes over the world, she'll get through Europe in a day. Day and a half at most."
"Well, good thing we're all friends then."
"You are far too calm when faced with potential world takeover scenarios."
"I was told that was a good quality in my job interviews."
"You used to be concerned, you know."
"Does a world takeover necessarily equate to fires, hurricanes, and other forms of magically induced disaster?"
Percy had to concede that it did not.
Thomas gave a well-there-you-go gesture with his hand.
"When did you get this calm?"
"I've always been this calm."
"You most certainly have not."
"And I will deny that for the rest of time."
"You're worried about something else then. What is it?"
"Adélie will be at the World Cup which I somehow got roped into attending, and I still haven't told Ivy about it."
Percy looked at his friend for a moment before patting him soundly on the shoulder. "Well, it was nice knowing you."
"Say something nice at my funeral, will you?"
"Of course."
"What are you two doing here?" Pansy asked snidely.
"Well, funny thing, invitations."
"Usually taken to mean you're invited somewhere."
Pansy rolled her eyes at the twins. After suffering their presence for so long due to Ivy's unassailable determination to have them as friends, she had grown somewhat used to their particular brand of teasing. "I meant what are you doinghere, sitting next to me."
One of the twins gasped, putting a hand over his heart as if she had just broken it. "Why, someone might think you don't like us."
"I don't," she replied frankly.
"Consider our hearts broken," the other twin replied.
"Well if you're not going to leave, at least shut up. I have important people watching to do."
Both of them leaned forward at that. How they managed to coordinate their every movement in such a way was still a mystery to her. Perhaps it was some sort of twin telepathy or something.
"Oh, and just what handsome young wizard has caught your eye?"
Pansy rolled her eyes again but discreetly pointed to Draco. "I amnotinterested, just to be clear," she said firmly when both redheads looked like they were about to say something. "But look at him, then look over there," she said, pointing to Ivy this time.
"Oh, playing matchmaker, are we?"
"Of course I am," she said. "Someone has to."
The wedding was beautiful, the reception afterwards was awkward for reasons Remus was not going to get into withanyoneright now, or ever, if he could help it, which he knew deep down he would not, and by the end of the evening even the most social of Wizarding Britain's socialites had tired from the day's events.
Going into this Remus had known it would be different than Harry's wedding, but he had still been caught somewhat unawares by just how exhausting the entire day was. Harry and Luna's wedding had been just as much the event of the year as Sirius and Sabrina's, but whereas Harry and Luna had a limited guest list…
It wasn't the entire wizarding community but at moments it sure felt like it. Remus wasn't even convinced they knew half these people, but they didn't seem to care, the guests didn't seem to care, and everything had gone rather well all things considering.
And now, it was time for bed. Sweet, sweet bed. That wonderful place where…
"So, are you ready for the Wizengamot tomorrow?"
If ever there was a moment Remus was glad he was not Harry, this was it. This moment, right here. He couldn't quite keep the grin off his face, and he got a scowl from Harry for his efforts (or lack thereof), but at least he didn't have to be up in the morning to deal with round whatever-it-was of trying to get Umbridge out of the ministry.
Life wasn't so bad after all.