A/N- I am positively elated with the response that this story is generating. I love you guys for loving this fic.

Thanks to anarion87, Marilyn, Ronin and ObsessedwithHPFanFIc for your insights. I again want to make this clear that Harry will not get anything easy but he will be kicked, inspired and coerced into learning new things. If you do not like the way I am preceding, please let me know. I appreciate that people are taking so much time of their schedule for my fic.

I will be using words from Hindi very often now and put their meaning in bracket beside them. Please bear with me for it.

This chapter has been updated to bring some clarity in the provisions and to make it more interesting reading. Thank you Hypergym.

Disclaimer- Last I checked, he still belonged to JKR and she was not in a mood to lease him to me. I am only having fun on the ground.

The Marichika

When evening came and Harsh realized that Harry was not coming out of his cabin, Harsh summoned him. Harsh gestured for Harry to join him at the table where Harsh was reading a book. Harry looked at the book as he took his seat and noticed that the book was in a language he had not seen before. It made him wonder where the book was from and what it was about.

Harsh looked in Harry's eyes and asked him, "Harry, why do you think you cannot kill anyone? Or do you think that killing someone will make you evil? I know that you have not killed anyone ever but look upon everything that has happened to Wizarding Britain in the last war and tell me if things would not have been better if the defenders of light had used lethal spells and killed death eaters when Tom Marvolo Riddle had raised his poisonous hood. If the Aurors had killed some of that death eater scum perhaps others would not have joined him and things may have been very different. Can you imagine how many families were destroyed in the war? So many children were orphaned, so many houses wiped out of existence and so many had to live in such deplorable conditions devoid of love or compassion from anyone. This all could have been avoided if one person had stepped up and did what should have been done anyhow. We were watching but we could not act, because we have never fought open wars but when it all did not cease even for ten years, we decided that we would raise our army and kill the scum who defiled mother magic, however, before we could take any action, you had vanquished him."

Harry thought over the mystic's words and at some level, he knew the words made sense. If the Aurors had been given authority to use lethal force early on in the war, things might have been quite different for him and many of his class-mates for that matter. Maybe many of the people in the photo that Neville had shown him would still be alive. Who could say how many others may have been saved.

Some of the deaths were unnecessary and cruel. So many talented people had to die to keep the society from falling apart and they all had died to ensure the safety of their loved ones. So many children were orphaned. He, Susan, Fay Dunbar they all had lost their parents or at least one of them to the war, Neville had spent his childhood devoid of parental love in the shadow of the fame of his father and the stern upbringing of Dowager Lady Longbottom. He remembered that his parents had told him that he would need to kill to keep himself safe but he just could not bring himself to use any of the unforgiveable curses.

He turned to Harsh, "Guruji, I understand what you are saying. I even agree with you. Having to defend myself or someone else for that matter, in a life and death struggle is one thing. I feel that I could accept the responsibility for the death of another living human being, or intelligent magical creature for that matter, at my hands under such circumstances. However, I do not believe that I could ever be an executioner. I will not kill a person who is completely at my mercy".

Harsh sighed. "Harry, you know when I killed for the first time, I could not get over my guilt for three days. My guru then taught me a lesson, War is not about those who are gone but it is about those who are left", Harsh said gravely to him, "we often do not kill for ourselves but to keep others safe. When the time comes, you have to decide."

"But I can't even use the unforgiveable curses", Harry said "I mean I tried to use one on Wormtail in the graveyard and I just could not."

Harsh smiled at him brightly, "That is indeed very good. It means that your heart is not full of hate but love. You know of the Patronus, Harry? You know what fuels it?"

Harry thought for a moment before he started saying, "Remus told me that our emotions fuel it. I use my happiest feelings for a Patronus."

Harsh smiled and said to him, "Remus was right but it's mostly over love for others that fuels it. Love is a feeling which is so strong that it can make us do impossible things. It was love for you that made Lily Potter use such ancient magic which is basically non-existent in Wizarding Britain."

Harry looked at him sharply, "What do you mean?"

Harsh said to him, "Tell me Harry, what do you hear when you go near a dementor?"

Harry baulked at telling him. It was not like he was ashamed of it but it was deeply personal. Sharing that experience with Harsh felt like a terrible breach of intimacy. Then he thought that perhaps the mystic could tell him something that would help him understand what had happened on that Halloween night over 14 years ago.

"When a dementor comes near me, I can hear my mother begging Voldemort to spare me but to kill her in my place. He tried to get her to stand aside and spare her life. He said that she did need to die. However when she did not relent then he killed her. There was that green flash that seemed to fill the world, the rushing sound as she screamed and she fell. With her out of the way, he cast the killing curse at me. There was the green flash again and then nothing", he finished in a flat tone.

Harsh could see that Harry was struggling for self-control. He gave Harry a minute before telling Harry what he thought it all meant. Harsh said thoughtfully, "It is as I had thought. She did find the ancient blood sacrifice ritual."

Harry curiously asked him, "Blood sacrifice ritual? Is that what it sounds like?"

Harsh straightened in his chair, "You see Mr. Potter, after you vanquished Voldemort and Albus Dumbledore took you out of the place, I led a team of mystics to find what had happened in the cottage. What Tom Marvolo Riddle had not found was that there were runes on a wardstone in your room and the stone was seeped with blood and magic and as soon as we found the stone we whisked it because we knew your ministry could not find anything out of it. We ran some tests on the stone and we found that it had traces of an arcane blood magic ritual which has not been seen in the wizarding world for centuries. Your mother performed a ritual in which she offered her life to mother magic as sacrifice for your protection. This ritual requires the caster to step in front of death meant for another to sacrifice their life. As the sacrifice happens, the person sought to be protected gets a protection which cannot be penetrated by anyone. Think about it, Harry. You are not the first person whose mother stepped in front of death of their child but it did not protect them. Your mother's love fuelled her resolve to give up her life to save yours. It was love that drove James Potter to stand wandless against Voldemort and give time to Lily to perform the ritual which saved your life. Your parents gave their lives to save you and if you stick to your righteousness and die, their sacrifice will be in vain and the people you care about will die anyway."

Harry was feeling a myriad of emotions surprise, elation, sorrow and intrigue. Nobody had ever told him about this. The most that he had known ironically was from Voldemort who told his followers that it was an ancient magic which he had underestimated while Dumbledore had told him in his first year that Lily had used her love for him to give him some protection. Voldemort perhaps knew of the ritual but did not elaborate because he did not want to appear weak. Perhaps Dumbledore did not tell him because he valued his secrets and the boy-who-lived was one of the greatest mysteries of our time

He had always felt that it was his parents who gave everything to keep him safe while the world credited him for doing something miraculous when he was only 15 months old and could not even hold a wand. His parents had died to keep him alive and he wanted to honour their sacrifice by staying alive. If it came down to kill or be killed, Harry would do what he had to. Unfortunately, that meant that he would have to kill Voldemort. Thanks to that wretched prophecy, Tom Riddle was convinced that he had to kill Harry to live and Harry was not going to let that happen.

"Harry", Harsh's voice called Harry back from his musings, "even if now you are not in favour of killing anyone, perhaps I can tell you a story which will sway your thoughts."

Harry nodded eager to listen to any story which the mystic had to tell.

Harsh closed his eyes, his forehead wrinkled as if in thought, "In the ancient times, there was a time when evil was running rampant and there were many kings who were monsters in human's body. There was a kingdom in Aryavarta known as Hastinapur where king Pandu ruled. Due to some reason he had to abdicate the throne and he went to live in forests where he sired 5 sons who are said to be divine born. In his stead, his blind brother Dhritrashtra was made king and he sired 100 sons. King Pandu died in the forests and the children came back to the royal palace with their mother Kunti. They were looked after and loved by Bhisma, elder brother of their grandfather. Needless to say that the sons of Dhritrashtra clashed constantly with sons of Pandu and did not let go a moment to torment the sons of Pandu and at one time tried to kill one of the Pandu sons but he was saved. They all took weapon training from Dronacharya who regarded one of sons of Pandu as his favourite student. The sons of Pandu had a cousin, Krishna who was a god. After a lot of suffering and betrayals that the sons of Pandu faced at the hands of sons of Dhritrashtra, they still avoided any war between themselves. Years later, after a lot of hardships which they faced in which they were embarrassed, insulted and whatnot and Krishna convinced them that war was inevitable for peace. So, the stage for war was set and both sides started amassing their army. The sons of Dhritrashtra had larger army and many venerable warriors among them however the favourite student of Dronacharya, Arjun was vaunted as the greatest warrior and the god himself was driving his chariot in the war.

"On the day the war was to start, Arjuna asked him to take the chariot between both the armies so he could see his foes. Needless to say, Arjuna found himself unable to kill anyone because most of them were his family, friends or teachers.

"The god, Krishna delivered a sermon to him that the muggles call Bhagwat Geeta and we refer to it as 'Song of the lord'. In it, he told Arjun that death is just another stop before the soul is reborn and nothing ever happens without his will, so, any death that happens at the hands of a warrior lies on him. Since everything came from him and goes back to him, we are blameless."

Harry was fascinated by the tale, but it did not change how he felt about killing. He would not kill unless he absolutely had to.

Harsh saw the resolve in his eyes and sighed. He had done what he could and now it was upon the teen to take the moral and embrace it. If he did not bring his mind around the fact that killing was necessary then perhaps he will be jolted when someone close to him lost their life.

"Now Harry, I have been told that you are good at defense", Harsh grinned at him mischievously, "we should start your training with the basics."

They proceeded to the deck where Harsh called four of his mystics, "Harry, they will test your basics. We need to see where you stand before we proceed with a plan for you."

Suddenly Harsh vanished and the four whipped their wands out shooting hexes at him. Harry immediately dived to the ground to save himself. In the next moment, he was up with his wand in hand. He barely had time to cast a stunner before they flanked him and were shooting at him from all directions. Unable to dodge spells coming from all directions at once, he cast a shield to deflect the onslaught of spells, but; it didn't last long. He cast another shield and it lasted long enough for him to notice that they were all firing at once, giving him a few seconds respite between volleys. That was all the advantage he needed. At the end of the next volley, he dispelled his shield and fired, a disarming hex at one of the mystics who swatted it away with a flick of his wand, he sent a stunning spell at another who merely side stepped, a blasting hex was sent at the third who lazily produced a shield and he sent a reducto at the fourth who simply disappeared and reappeared a second later, grinning at Harry.

Harry was flabbergasted. He was easily one of the best in Hogwarts when it came to defense and his prowess with a wand was already a subject of talks between the students but here he was a child. He had cast with the best of his ability and none of his spells had found its mark. They were toying with him.

He fired a stunner at the third mystic who produced a shield. The stunner reflected straight back at Harry who was so surprised that he neither shielded nor dodged. Struck by his own stunner, Harry fell to the deck unconscious.

One of the mystics enervated him signalling him to get ready again. They started raining down spells on him and this time, he noticed a different pattern. They were each taking their turn casting a spell at him then apparating away to re-appear at a different spot and do it again. Harry found this pattern of attack confusing and impossible to dodge. He had to keep a shield up. He could not reply to the attacks as the mystics apparated away before he could take aim, cast and wait for the spell to connect and he had no way to anticipate where they would appear again. Although, after a time, the pattern appeared to be that they liked re-appearing at his back. Casting a few stunners behind him broke up that action quickly.

After about 20 minutes, casting a new shield every few seconds was getting to be exhausting. Harry was ready to call it quits, but; he remembered his lesson from Harsh and did not let his guard down. When Harry was wavering on his feet and it seemed that casting one more shield would cause him to pass out cold, Harsh called out, "Stand down". The mystics went still.

He turned to Harry, "Lower your wand, Harry."

Harry lowered his wand and sat down on the deck, panting. While the mystics had played with them, he understood what they were teaching him. As he fought with them he realised where Moody had learnt the Mantra of Constant Vigilance. If people attacked him like this he would be paranoid of everyone like the old Master Auror.

Harsh was scrutinising him closely. He knew what the teen was thinking and smirked inwardly. The young Potter did not know what was in the future for him. By the time Harry Potter is done with his training, he will either revere the mystics or hate them.

"Are you tired Harry?", he asked.

Harry nodded his head, "I thought I had more stamina than this. I have never tired this quickly before."

Harsh smirked, "And how do you know that, Harry?"

"I have trained for the last year with Ron and Hermione. I learnt a lot of spells with them and I used to practice with them. They even used some powerful spells against me while I defended and my shield used to last longer. Here I have to raise a new shield after every 10 to 15 stinging hexes. Not to mention that their attacks are so random that I cannot guess where the next attack will come from", said Harry, exasperated.

Harsh chortled, "Harry, Harry. Have you not studied magical theory in detail?"

Harry looked down, his face red with embarrassment. No, he thought, that was Hermione's thing. He had never bothered.

Harsh laughed, "Your reaction told me what I wanted to know. It will not change anything but only you will have to work even more hard now. You will need to study about it in detail later but for now it will suffice you to know that it does not depend on the nature of the hex but the power behind it. Your friends Ron and Hermione though are powerful more than average wizards their age but they are not powerful as a mystic. They also do not know to put all their power in a spell as my mystics do. If it was any ordinary wizard in your place, their one hex would have shattered your shield but even your basic shields are powerful than others."

Harry was listening with rapt attention. Nobody had ever explained things to him this way. He again regretted not having read enough and he wondered if Hermione knew about it or not. Whether she did or not, Hermione was not here and he would have to study it for himself.

Harsh raised his hand and a few seconds later, Harry's trunk came flying through the air to them. Harsh tapped the trunk and it opened. He calmly opened the library portion and picking up a quill he wrote something on the sorting parchment which was kept at the start of the shelves and a book glowed on one of the shelves. He picked up the book and handed it to Harry whose mouth was opened in surprise, "I want you to study this book, Harry. Before we land at India tomorrow, I want you to finish this book or you will face my displeasure."

Harry found his voice by now, "How did you open my trunk? I thought that it can be opened only after giving a passcode."

Harsh grinned at him, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Harry blanched. "How did you know my passcode?", he asked flabbergasted.

"Let's just say that until you can make your mind safe, there is nothing safe", Harsh said cryptically.

Harry remembered something Dumbledore had said. "Professor Dumbledore also said something like ensuring that my mind is my own but he did not explain", he pouted at Harsh.

Laughing at Harry's antics, Harsh replied, "That is for later, Harry. For now, you need to brush up on your magical theory because without knowing this, there are things you cannot fathom to understand."

Head Master's Office, Hogwarts

Dumbledore was sitting in his office with Minerva. The topic of concern was the law that the wizengamot had just passed this morning. Cornelius, who had been getting more and more paranoid day by day and apprehensive about Dumbledore, had pushed a law through the Wizengamot which gave power to the ministry to appoint a professor in the school in case the headmaster failed to find one before the term began. On the surface, this might appear to be a measure, on the part of the ministry to ensure the quality of education at Hogwarts. But Albus was no fool. He understood this to be the thin edge of the wedge for Fudge to take control of the entire school. With the track record of the defense Against the Dark Arts professor not lasting for more than a year since Tom Riddle's visit all those years ago Fudge would use this law to place his agent in the school and begin undermining the authority of the school board and the head master.

"Albus, you could have stopped the passage of the bill", Minerva was saying, "Cornelius does not have the same power as you do. You could have stopped the bill."

"Minerva, the times are perilous ahead", Albus shook his head, "I could have blocked Cornelius and tried to stop the bill from passing. This is not about power. This is about influence. Influence is a resource which must be carefully nourished, grown if you will. To overuse it is to kill it. If I had used my influence to block such a seemingly banal law, contrary to the expressed will of our minister, it would have given them all the leverage they needed to undermine or even destroy my credibility. No. This was the bait and I am not walking into their trap. I need the ancient houses to support me, especially during these times. This could have turned some of them against me. We will have to wait and see how things will unfold. Perhaps when the great alliance once again sits on the wizengamot, we can try to pull the rug from beneath Fudge's feet."

Minerva did not answer but pursed her lips in disappointment. She understood that times were not as such where they could risk turning houses against them. It was just that her faith in Dumbledore's reputation was so much that she believed that he could have anything he wished for. As she talked, she realised that in the past few weeks, the world had changed and it all revolved around her great godson, Harry Potter. She would love to see how things unfolded when Harry Potter returned to the castle. He definitely would not be the meek, docile boy he had been the last four years. If he was half his father and god father, then anyone the ministry sent in would have the time of their life.

"Minerva, if we do not find a teacher for defense Against the Dark Arts this year, you know Cornelius will saddle us with a worthless teacher who will teach nothing to students but act as a spy and spread the ministry's propaganda. We will need to be prepared", Albus said "I have heard that he will try to push for ousting me from the position of Chief Warlock before the next academic year starts. If that happens, we will need to be careful in the castle and make sure that the ministry cannot find anything which would lead to incriminate us."

Minerva did not say anything but nodded in response.

"Perhaps it is time that I made some changes to Hogwarts", he mused "maybe I can convince Binns to retire and advertise for the post of History Professor."

"That will be a day when the students of Hogwarts will thank you with all their hearts!", Minerva said with mirth filled eyes.

"There is another thing, Minerva. I have observed and you would agree with me that since the first war, the quality of students has been deteriorating. The OWLs and NEWTs have been evidence of the falling standards. With the war at the door, we need to teach our students to use what they are taught for self defense", he said gravely, "With the times that are approaching us, we will need to teach them things which they can use to defend themselves and others, if the need arises."

"So it begins.", she thought knowing that she would be meeting the teachers to convey what she was being asked of her. The comment of falling standards had hit too close to home.

The students were not as good as they used to be. She will have to remedy that.

Bones Manor, the Dungeon

Rita Skeeter was having the worst time of her life. She had been bested by a mudblood who had trapped her like a common bug and then handed her to Susan Bones. Now she was in the custody of Amelia Bones, a woman who had too much hatred against Rita in her heart. While climbing to her fame, she had destroyed the reputations of many formidable witches and wizards. She even had the audacity to go after Albus Dumbledore but she had not been able to destroy his reputation. Now she was here in a dungeon where she had no way to escape.

She had tried to apparate but that was not possible. She had tried to change to her animagus form and that didn't work either. She was entirely at the mercy of Amelia Bones who could kill her and no one would know of it. She knew of some of the darker aspects of the old families when in the ancient times, they used to silence their enemies in such a covert manner that no one ever knew anything about it. Even the Council of Lords never interfered in such feuds and those old rules had been retained when the Wizengamot was formed which meant that Amelia Bones could kill her and dump her body in some lake or among some beasts who would devour her body. She could do even worse like handing her over to some dark family who was out for her blood or she could send her to Azkaban without a trial.

Her musings were interrupted when her cell door swung open on its well-oiled hinges. In stepped her jailor, Amelia, accompanied by a man whose face was covered with a mask. All she could see of his face were brown eyes.

Amelia stepped up to her and getting right in her face smirked evilly, "Hello Rita. I believe that our conversation is well overdue. There will be no quick quotes quill this time. You have ruined a lot of lives. You know secrets about almost everyone in the wizarding world and we could do with some of those secrets.". She pointed to the man "This is Mr. Aparichit who has kindly agreed to help extract some of those secrets from your mind. You see being an officer of the law I cannot perform the Imperius curse or use any other coercive methods but Mr. Aparichit has no such inhibitions."

The man stepped forward and looked into her eyes. Rita tried to look away, then the man petrified her. She could feel him probing her mind and she raised her defences. The intruder knocked softly on her shields for some time, then retreated.

Rita was cautious and did not lower her shields. The man's eyes brightened for a bit and Rita felt like someone had set her mind on fire. Suddenly there was a firestorm raging through her mind and within seconds her mind shields were burnt to cinders. Rita was left helpless to stop the man from reading her thoughts. It did not take long for him to find where she kept her secret information such as who were her sources in the ministry, whom she was blackmailing, where she kept her physical files and what measures would be required to access them. Best of all, myriad details about Fudge and his corrupt dealings.

The man retreated from her mind completely and then nodded to Amelia and together they left the room.

"What did you find out, Mr. Aparichit?", Amelia asked.

"Madam Bones,' he said in a deep voice, 'she knows awful lot of information. She has a cellar in her home where she keeps the secrets she comes across, a number of your Head of Departments in the ministry are sources for information and she has a big fat dossier on the corruption of Cornelius Fudge and he pays her a big bag of Galleons every month just to keep the secrets buried. If those secrets were to see the light of the day, Cornelius Fudge will not have enough space to run."

Amelia's whole face broke out in a great-big grin, "Mr. Aparichit, it looks like my birthday has come early this year! Mr. Fudge's days in office are numbered."

Finally she had something with which she could payback Fudge for all his idiocy. But she would need to deal with Fudge's minions before she took out the minister himself. There was an immediate use for this dossier though. She could prepare a welcome home gift for Harry Potter.

"Mr. Aparichit, if you are willing, I could use your assistance to secure certain valuable materials from a certain reporter's home", She asked the mystic in a formal manner.

With a courtly bow, he answered, "Madam. Bones, I would be honoured" And taking her by the hand, they disapparated together.

Cottage on the Hill

The members of Harry's circle were being trounced. Early this morning they had arrived through the floo and as each of them passed through the visitor's room to the hall, they were, in turn, each stunned and bound. After Neville came through the door and was stunned, they all were enervated by Sirius who was smirking at them. The reason for his smirk immediately became clear when someone familiar growled, "Constant Vigilance. Is it so hard to maintain?". The teens were freed from their bonds and facing an irate looking Moody with his wand trained on them, "Pathetic. If you were in the Auror Corps and I was your trainer, I would have fired the lot of you for the pathetic show that you just gave me. Has no one learned a lesson from this year? Granger'!", he growled, "what did you all do wrong?"

Hermione, who was rattled like the others, took a moment composing herself, "Please, Professor Moody. I can't speak for everyone here. As for myself, I exited the floo and walked right on through the door without even looking around."

There was a general nodding of heads and murmur of agreement from the rest of the teens.

"Weasley", he said, "Ronald Weasley, not you two, what should anyone do in conditions like these?"

Ron was not much on academics but was a good strategist said, "Travelling by floo is disorienting. I always need a moment to get myself together after I land. The very least I could do during that time is have a good look around to make sure everything is where it is supposed to be. If one can do it, casting a Homenum revelio would be a good precaution even if the visual check shows that nothing is out of order. Then, if there is someone waiting in ambush, I would already have my wand out to deal with them."

After a brief lesson, the general theme of which was, "Constant Vigilance!" Moody had them running laps around the perimeter of the property for 15 minutes. By the time they were done, they were panting and crashed on the ground. Moody however was relentless and immediately started shooting stinging hexes at them to make them move. Today's war game was teachers versus students. The teachers were only allowed to use disarming hexes on the students. The student's task was to subdue the teachers. It sounded simple, but the reality of it was quite different. The professors kept apparating all over the property and sometimes, they would duel with one of them. Within 5 minutes of starting the duel, they had disarmed Ginny and Ron. Hermione was the next to go when she was caught between Remus and Sirius who both shot the disarming hex at her at the same time from two opposite directions. Susan and Neville banded together to avoid losing but they were outnumbered when Sirius and Remus caught up with them. They were successfully defending themselves for sometime before Flitwick appeared out of nowhere and disarmed Neville while Susan was taken out by the marauders. The twins were proving elusive with apparating all over the property till they apparated inside the hall of the cottage and suddenly felt a trap go off. They tried to apparate out of it but could not.

Sirius came in the room, saw them trapped, guffawed at them telling it was revenge for the rope and then painted them Gryffindor gold and crimson before walking away.

Then Moody put them in pairs and ordered them to practice disarming on their partners.

While they were good, there was room for improvement. The teachers went around making tiny corrections and telling them to resume.

In the evening they were dismissed with instructions to read what they had been taught in the previous years.

Greengrass Manor

The blond slytherin was in a bad mood. When she came home after the fourth year, her father told her that the Lord Malfoy was pressuring him to arrange a betrothal and even threatened them with the Dark Lord. She of course knew that the Dark Lord was back but her father was leader of the neutrals and they would never align themselves with the dark faction. Besides, the Greengrass family was old and influential and had considerable power. Her father had resisted Lucius Malfoy's overtures for now but they needed to do something to keep the family safe. She had an idea which would help her family get through the war alive but it would mean giving up their neutrality for the light. Right now, the light faction was powerful because they had Dumbledore on their side and if Daphne believed her mother's information, Harry Potter was going to turn the Wizengamot upside down soon. Her mother worked in the family records department at the ministry and she had brought some astounding news to them.

-FLASH BACK STARTS-

Roxanne Greengrass had returned home after a tiring day. Ordinarily she had boring days since not many people had business in her department. It was a position which was relatively quiet even during the previous wars except for the fact that they had to keep constant records of families which were wiped out of existence or inheritances going to new individuals.

As she arrived at the office today, she got a visit from the head of the DMLE Amelia Bones. For some reason she was interested in the records of the Ancient and Noble House of Gaunt which was the last descendant of Slytherin. After a thorough inspection of the records, all she had got was that the last descendant of the House of Gaunt was born of the union of a squib daughter and a muggle in Little Hangleton and that the son had attended Hogwarts in the 50s.

As Amelia Bones left, she received a rather large stack of parchment which came from the Goblins. When she enquired, the Goblin liaison Officer, Dirk Cresswell merely shrugged telling her that it was secret. Of course, Roxanne knew what confidential meant in her department. It meant that no one except her could see the documents and not even Cornelius Fudge could ask her to bring the documents to him. It was made so by the Council of Lords so that the ministry could not interfere in House's business. As Dirk left, she opened the stack of parchments and it was the biggest shock of her life. Recently, Harry Potter had ascended to his lordship not that Roxanne was surprised. She knew that he was the last Potter so he would be Lord Potter but the stack contained other houses also. Houses that Roxanne did not know he was an heir to.

She was astounded to find that he was Lord Black. She knew that the last Lord Black was Arcturus Orion Black and he had died 6 years ago. The next lord Black would have been Sirius, but he could not ascend to his lordship while he was serving a sentence in Azkaban or a fugitive. In the absence of any direct descendants of Sirius, the next heir would have been Draco Malfoy through his mother's line as all other possible heirs were either dead or disowned but to see him being ousted by Harry Potter was something nobody could have foreseen. When she looked in to the older records, suddenly the knut dropped when she found that Harry was godson of Sirius Black. Did that mean that Sirius Black was innocent? The magics behind the oath of God father were severe and even trying to think of breaking those oaths could kill someone. This cast a shadow of doubt on her mind regarding his guilt.

Another parchment that she found in that stack was of a blood adoption of Harry Potter by Sirius Black which told a different story altogether. If Harry Potter was his blood adopted son that meant Harry Potter was in constant contact with the Azkaban escapee. Something to ponder and use for the safety of her family.

The next piece of parchment was more surprising. This piece of parchment turned a lot of her perceptions upside down. Lily Evans, one of her best friends, was a pureblood. Lily always maintained that she was a muggleborn yet she had an unwavering fascination with the wizarding world's traditions and customs which was surprising. She was surprised when Lily agreed to a marriage contract with James Potter as per the old customs but perhaps that was because as per old customs, she as a muggleborn did not bring any family magic to the marriage while James's family was ancient and one of the pillars of the wizarding world. To learn that she was not a muggle born but daughter of one of the old families which was entrenched in the dark as much as the Rosier family was, it certainly boggled her mind. Harry Potter by reason of being last scion of House Rosier was the lord of Rosier now. He was also the Lord of an old house of Germany which was insanely rich. This lordship would not give him any more seats on the Wizengamot, but it likely made him the wealthiest wizard in Europe.

He held lordships of four houses and that gave him 11 votes seeing he was lord of the Ancient and Reverent House of Peverell which gave him 5 votes and 2 votes each for his other houses. There was an off chance that he could claim the vassal houses and their votes in the Wizengamot. In other words, the politics were about to get interesting.

If she could have, right there and then she would have sent a missive to her family's friends and allies and banded them together with House Potter but her position and her oath as the head of Department did not permit her to do so. She could talk to her husband though.

-FLASH BACK ENDS-

Her mother had returned home an hour ago and had told her that she had something important to discuss with her and her father. "House Secret.", if she would. House Secrets referred to secrets which could not be disclosed to anyone who was not family, not for any reason.

"Good evening, Daphne", Cyrus's voice cut in on her thoughts; "the frown on your face tells me that you are lost in thought."

Daphne actually frowned. Cyrus Greengrass had blond hair, brown eyes, a long face, aristocratic features, was about six feet tall, well built and had a jovial sense of humour. He could always sense the moods, whether it was Roxanne or any of his daughters and he always seemed to know the exact thing to say to brighten their day.

"Evening, father", she replied, "I was thinking about Malfoy's threat of consequences. With that monster being back, things will indeed turn bad for us and the other neutrals. The light side is woefully unprepared. We would not interfere in their petty conflicts, but; their self-styled dark lord has shown, over and over again, that he does not care who dies, so long as it serves his purposes. Most of the deaths of his own minions were his own doing, but; they are either so terrified by him or so stupidly loyal that they do not desert him. No, instead they came running back to him the moment it looks like he may have any real power again. It is unbelievable! To keep our family safe, we will need some powerful houses on our side. With all the devastation from the last war there are only a few of those houses left."

"Then you will both be happy to know that there is someone who can help us to remain safe in the war", cut in Roxanne's voice who had just entered the room, "And
thus, we come to The house secret that I called you together to discuss. This should help us to sort out our priorities."

"What secret are you talking about, dear?", asked Cyrus, pecking his wife on the cheek as she sat beside him on the sofa.

"This morning I received a fat stack of parchments from Gringotts, about Harry Potter", she replied.

"Ah, yes, Young Mr. Potter. I would assume that since he is the last of House Potter that he has ascended to his lordship? Young, but he has proven himself capable. That's two more votes for the side of light", Cyrus wrinkled his brow in puzzlement, "How does that help us?"

"My dear husband, you are both intelligent and impatient", she said smiling at him, "You are right, as far as what you know and have guessed, but; there is more."

At this point, Roxanne had their full attention.

"As you have correctly guessed, young Lord Harold James Potter is Lord Potter", She paused for dramatic effect, "And Lord Weber. And Lord Rosier. And Lord Black. But most significantly he is also Lord Peverell."

A minute passed in silence as Cyrus and Daphne processed what this meant.

Daphne was the first to break the silence, "Weber! What is House Weber? I've never heard of them.".

Then before Roxanne could answer, Cyrus cut in, "Peverell? But how? There hasn't been a Lord Peverell for centuries! And, and, and five houses! How is that even possible?"

Roxanne turned to Daphne first, with a glint of conspiracy in her eye, "Daphne, House Webber is an ancient German family, thought to be extinct, which may explain why you haven't heard of them. They have no seats on the Wizengamot, but quite a considerable fortune. And that, my lovely daughter, quite likely makes him the wealthiest wizard in Europe."

The next half hour passed with Roxanne explaining in detail how the goblin tests worked, how Sirius had blood-adopted Harry and how the Peverell family magic had accepted a Lord after having laid dormant for centuries, not only the magic, but also their grimoire and vaults.

"So you see," Roxanne wound down to her conclusion, "Sirius must be innocent. Lord Potter now has 11 votes on the Wizengamot all by himself. And, this time, You-Know-Who will be up against magic which has not been seen in Avalon since the last war-mage over a thousand years ago."

"Merlin's beard!" exclaimed Cyrus, "This will take the Wizengamot by storm! The dark side won't know what hit them." Then he grinned, "That mealy mouthed idiot Fudge will never have another peaceful night's sleep again. And that regency of house Black that Malfoy usurped when the previous Lord Black passed on while Sirius was rotting in Azkaban, those votes will go to their rightful heir."

Daphne, who was taking this all in, while at the same time, drawing her own conclusions, spoke, "Mother, do you suppose, that all of that gold which Malfoy and his father have been flashing around, do you suppose that it came from the Black family fortune? Does this mean that the impudent little toe-rag Draco is shortly going to find that his entire family is flat-broke and his slimy git of a father is Azkaban bound?"

Roxanne regarded her daughter with wide-eyed fascination, "You are entirely too good with this stuff for your own good Daphne. Remind me never to get on your bad side. Although everything you say may very well be true, however as it happens, a Regent cannot touch a family fortune and it is available only to the supposed heir when he comes of age. The Malfoys may be fugitives from France but they brought their wealth with them which while is not significant compared to Black Fortune but is sufficient for them for posturing around. Also I believe that Narcissa was given hefty dowry when she was married to Malfoy. If there has been any misuse of funds or not, it will concern Lord Black and it is upon him to do something about it. We must behave as it were all a big surprise when it all comes down."

Daphne rolled her eyes, "Really mother? Isn't that what family secret means. Don't worry. I know how to keep private things private. But, this will change the balance of power in Slytherin house at school and I must be ready to act."

Daphne was already making plans. She had a lot of influence in the house of serpents already. With that impudent git Malfoy broken, she could easily leverage herself to lead the whole bunch of them. And that would deny any new recruits to He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. If that was all she could do for the war, she would be satisfied, but; was there anything else?

Her Father broke-in on her thoughts, "Daphne, I want you to become Harry Potter's friend. It is time that we step to the light. After the war, we can go back to being allied with the neutrals."

Daphne made a quick appraisal of both of her parents. Become Harry Potter's friend? Yes. That would be done if at all possible. It didn't hurt that he was filthy rich and seriously cute. But, openly coming out on the side of light? That lacks subtlety and may not be the best tactic, however; the two of them seemed to agree, "Father, I shall do, even as you wish."

THE MARICHIKA

Harry was tired. He had gone to bed pretty late in the evening after reading the book assigned to him by his guru and slept fitfully for only 3 hours before a stinger to his backside woke him. As he woke up, he was commanded by a gruff looking mystic to join him on the deck.

As he climbed the stairs to the main deck, He could see that the ship was being boarded. When he looked around, he and the one mystic seemed to be the only ones on deck. The invaders were a herd of hippogriffs. They were making a lot of noise and be fouling the deck and the rigging. Something had to be done soon, but what?

"Young Potter!", the mystic shouted above the din I want you to tame one of these beasts. As soon as you tame one of them, fly it out of here and the rest will follow. You will then return with your Hippogriff to the deck."

Harry thought the mystic was mad. Then he remembered what Hagrid had taught him about Hippogriffs and that he had befriended Buckbeak. Would the same actions work with a wild hippogriff?

"What are you thinking?" bellowed the mystic "get on with it".

Before Harry could move, he was hit with another stinging hex.

Harry turned to the mystic, "I have an idea. Back me up. If this goes pear shaped, it will happen fast." Harry scanned the herd, looking for the alpha-male. Spotting a
large and active male that was Black and Red in appearance he walked right up to him and, establishing eye contact with him, bowed from the waist. The hippogrif's eyes widened momentarily then he returned the bow. Harry cautiously walked forward and patted the beast. To his surprise, he felt an immediate connection with this beast and after a few seconds, vaulted to its back, with his knees secure in that space just behind the wings. With a click of the tongue and a gentle tap from his heels, the hippogriff launched itself into the air and the entire herd followed them.

This was not like riding Buckbeak. This creature was a lot larger and stronger. When they reached an alarming altitude, the creature did a barrel-roll, and harry only managed to hang on with its back by grabbing the front of the wings. As the creature righted itself, he resumed his seat and held on more tightly with his knees. Then the creature did a loop and Hary did a better job of hanging on.

It was all getting to be too much and pulling his wand out of his robes with great effort, he conjured a make-shift bridle, and a lasso. Once the bridle was in place and the lasso was around the beast's neck, he stopped showing-off and harry guided them back to the ship.

It took about ten minutes for the two of them to find the ship again and land on her deck. When they did, the mystics were there to greet them, wands out and alert.

As soon as Harry dismounted, Harsh embraced him, "Well done Harry. Hagrid did not exaggerate when he told about your bond with animals. You have, indeed, tamed a magnificent beast."

"Guruji, if we could have kept flying through this area and the beasts would have done us no harm, why then did I have to tame one?", Harry asked him.

Harsh smirked, "if you had not tamed your hippogriff, you would have had to make your own arrangements for traveling from Gujarat to Himalayas."

"Meaning?", he asked.

"You will see", said Harsh. "I do not want to ruin your surprise by breaking it to you. For now, go and have your sleep. We have a busy and hard day tomorrow."

The Next morning

Harry Potter woke up tired and sore. While he was exhilarated with all the hard work that he had done and the flying with the hippogriff last night, the adrenaline rush had not let him feel the soreness of his muscles or the amount of energy he had spent in trying to subdue the beast. Right now, his bones felt heavy to him and even getting out of bed felt like a herculean task to him. Muttering, "Gryffindors charge forward!" he stepped out of his room and found one of the mystics grooming the hippogriff he had tamed last evening.

"Harry", the mystic said, "what did you name this one?"

"Name?" Harry asked confused, "why do I have to name him?".

"Because Harry, you have tamed him and I can see a bond exists between you both. Without a name, how would you address him to do your bidding?"

Harry thought back for a moment then he remembered feeling something when he first touched the hippogriff's neck, "Bond. Yes, I did feel something." He looked into the hippogriff's eyes for a moment, while asking as if the creature could answer him, "How would you like to be addressed? Skylord seems appropriate. But no, that is your title not your name."

Then he turned to the mystic, "I thought it was people like Hagrid who like to name beasts. Hagrid would know what to name him."

"Harry, Rubeus Hagrid is very beloved of beasts and blessed by mother magic when it comes to them. All the beasts in the forbidden forests love him. If anything were to happen to him, there is nobody who can control the creatures in the forest.", the mystic replied. "He is very talented with them. I do not imagine there would be many beasts which can scare him."

"You are too right about that, sir. So what should I name him?" Harry asked the mystic. "It is not like I have many names with me that I can choose from."

"You can choose any name that you think would describe him", the mystic replied.

"He is certainly fast and wild like a wind storm", Harry mused, "And the black color on his coat is more prominent than any other colour", He looked into the hippogriff's eyes again and a feeling of certainty struck him, "Black Storm. Your name, in my language would be Black Storm. May I call you by that name?"

The hippogriff nodded his approval with a neigh while pawing the deck.

With a broad grin, Harry affirmed, "Then Black Storm you shall be named", and he gave the hippogriff a hug around its neck.

"He agrees with you, Harry", the mystic laughed, "Now off with you. We are going to reach India in few hours and I want you to break into him before we land."

He handed tack to Harry, "he is yours to saddle and bridle. Make sure you do it right or you will hurt him."

Harry looked at the saddle and all the bits of metal and leather straps in confusion. The first two times he had ridden on Buckbeak, he did it bare-back. When he rode Black Storm this morning, it was also bare-back. He had never saddled and bridled a creature of any sort before nor had he even watched while someone else had done it.

A series of stingers peppering his body brought him out of his reverie, "Get on with it, Harry. Time will not wait for you."

Harry turned to the mystic, "Do we really need a saddle? I mean, won't that hurt him?"

The mystic was only now beginning to understand that Harry had almost no experience with care of riding creatures, "No, Mr. Potter. A properly adjusted saddle would distribute the load, making carrying you much easier on his spine. Over a long journey, riding bare-back, he would get sore there. What's more, it will be easier on you."

Harry finally did what he had very reluctantly done in the last 4 years. His time with Dursleys had shaped him into an individual who never sought other's help and his experience of last 4 years was not helping either. Whenever he tried to get an adult to help him, they did not help him but coddled him like a child. The mystics were treating him with dignity and he was concerned that if he continued to spectacularly fail at everything, they would start to treat him like a child too.

He turned to the mystic and confessed, "I have never learned how to put the tack on a horse, much less a hippogriff."

The mystic regarded Harry with a look of mingled surprise and sadness, "Guruji has told me that you can ride a hippogriff. We all saw what you did with Black Storm this morning. How can this be?"

"I can ride one. Hagrid taught us to approach them but he did not teach us to use the tack.", Harry replied, aware of the mystic's gaze on him, "we had one lesson
with the hippogriff and I was the only one who had approached it before Malfoy decided to be a git and got hurt after insulting the hippogriff.".

"Insult a hippogriff? What kind of fool does that?", the mystic asked incredulously.

"The kind of fool who thinks he is better than others because his father has a lot of money. The kind of fool who has no idea that the power of a person is determined by how much magic is in him. A fool who thinks his family is greatest of all regardless of the fact that his family fled like fugitives from France and anyone bearing that name is still not allowed within its borders", said Harsh who had approached the pair just then.

The mystic immediately bent and touched Harsh's feet. Harsh responded by fondly touching the other mystic on his head and murmured, "Ayushman Bhav (May you live long)."

"Pashupati kindly teach Mr. Potter to saddle and bridle the beast,' Harsh said smiling 'he is new and we will need to teach everything to him. Treat him like a child who is to learn everything that is there except defense where he is very accomplished for his age."

Pashupati bowed to Harsh and said, "As you say, Guruji." Then turning to Harry, seemed to produce a second set of tack from thin air. He laid his set of tack out on
the deck, motioning to Harry to do the same.

Once Harry had his tack laid out to the mystic's satisfaction, he began to explain, "Harry, It is understandable that for one like Hagrid, use of tack is not the first thing he would teach. Now, it is time to amend your education. I will spend the next few minutes going over the tack. I will explain the name, the purpose, the materials and the method of making each piece. When I am done, you will be able to do the same. If any question should present itself to you, you will please, stop me and ask."

Harry understood this to mean that there would be a test and paid close attention. After only 15 minutes, Harry had sufficient understanding of the tack to satisfy the mystic.

Pashupati then turned to the bow of the ship and gave a shrill whistle. A moment later, a hippogriff landed. The mare had bay fur and iridescent feathers. He bowed to her and when she returned the bow, he gave her an affectionate hug around her neck, "Welcome Gracewind. Will you help us with our lesson today?"

She pawed the deck and nodded her assent.

"Harry, I will place the tack on Gracewind here. As I do so, I will give you verbal instruction on each step and warn you what to look out for. Gracewind is gentle and highly intelligent. She will remind if I should forget anything. You will attend?".

It was obvious to Harry that Pashupati was going through the process at a speed which was painfully slow for him. With all the explanaition, it took another 15 minutes. And yes, there was one point when he neglected to tell Harry how to deal with bloating while tightening the girth strap that Gracewind reminded him by demonstrating bloating resulting in the strap being dangerously loose.

By the end of the demonstration, Gracewind had Harry wondering how intelligent these creatures really are? Harry bowed to Gracewind and thanked her for her help. When she bowed back, he gave her a pat on the side of her neck.

"Now, Mr. Potter", the mystic directed him to Black Storm, "Let us see what you have learned. You will now place the tack on Black Storm and you will tell me what you are doing at every step."

Harry started with the bridal and worked his way through the entire process. To Pashupati's delight, he got everything right the first time, right down to giving Black Storm a firm thump in the side when he tried to bloat and keep him from tightening the girth strap. The mystic went over the tack and found everything in order.

The mystic nodded his approval, then turned back to Harry, "Now, Mr. Potter, you will remove the tack, lay it out as I have shown you and put it on again. I will be timing you. Go!"

Harry went through the steps as quickly as he daired. When the tack was back on Storm Wind, he said, "Time!"

Pashupati said, "Five minutes, 33 seconds. Not a world record by any standard, but; it will do for a rank beginner. Let's see how you did". And he set to work, inspecting the tack. As he finished his inspection, he pointed to the stirrups and said, "You will need to adjust those for your comfort. Other than that, I see no problem with your work. It will do."

Harry made his best guess at what would be a comfortable height for his feet and adjusted the stirrups accordingly. Wearing his dragon-hide boots and a riding cloak, he approached Black Storm from his left side and vaulted to its back. Part of the saddle was a set of leg restraints. They were there to prevent the rider from falling out of the saddle during extreme maneuvers. Harry made sure that they were secure before he gave a click of the tongue with a gentle kick to the sides and Black Storm rocketed into the air. Now that Harry felt secure in the saddle, he whooped with glee and really enjoyed putting his new friend through his paces.

Pashupati flew right beside him on Gracewind. She was not quite so large or powerful as Black Storm, but; she was considerably more graceful and the mystic's riding expertise put him in an entirely different class.

As they were flying, Pashupati drew out his wand and started firing colour spells at Harry. Harry, seizing upon the challenge, started working with his mount to dodge the spells and answered with a few colour spells of his own. This was when the superior grace and flying skill of his opponents really shone through. While Harry and Black Storm jigged and dodged as well as they could, they sustained a great many hits while their opponents never quite managed to be their when Harry's spells went shooting by.

After about two hours of sustained dog-fighting, Black Storm, as large and mighty as he may be, was not used to carrying a rider or having to sustain aerial combat maneuvers and he was beginning to tire.

Harry called out, "Mr. Pashupati! I am concerned for Black Storm. I believe that he has had enough for now."

The mystic signalled down with his wand arm and Harry followed him back to the ship at a very leisurely pace.

As soon as they landed, Harry released his legs from the restraints and leapt to the deck. The deck felt very strange to him after the unceasing motion of his mount, but he set straight to work on removing the saddle. Beside him, Pashupati had already removed and stowed his tack. After he bowed to Gracewind and said something Harry did not understand, she took to the sky and was gone. He came over to see how Harry was doing.

Harry had managed to remove the saddle and the mystic was assessing Black Wind's condition. He turned to Harry, "Leave the bridle on.". Harry looked a question at him. He continued, "Hippogriffs are not horses, but they do have some things in common. One of those is that you cannot stable them while they are all hot and sweaty like this. Spread out his blanket over his body and walk him around the deck until he dries. When you have done, I shall teach you about grooming and feeding." It was another hour before Harry had cooled down Black Storm, cleaned up the residue from the colour battle, stowed his tack, groomed the hippogriff and finally showered and dried himself.

When he was done, Pashupati said, "I believe that Guruji is expecting you. Please offer my apology for keeping you so long."

Harry entered Harsh's cabin to find him in a state of meditation. In that moment, Harsh was looking at peace with himself, his forehead without any wrinkles, his face calm and his magical aura pure white. He opened his eyes after 10 minutes and seeing Harry there, he smiled, "Harry how your flight was? I hope you enjoyed it."

Harry returned the smile, "Yes guruji. I love flying."

"Harry, did you finish the book?"' He asked 'if you have not then I will be angry with you.

Harry nodded in response, "Guruji, I should hope that I shall never experience your displeasure. I could not put the book down until I finished it." He had finished the book after he found that he liked it. It answered so many of his questions which he always had but had never got any answers to them. It had explained why he was different from other students even though they were the same age. It told why some people had more power in their spells while others did not. Why some could cast spells which could penetrate a brick wall while others could damage a large area of the brick wall with the same spell.

"Harry can you tell me what is the difference between Remus Lupin and Neville Longbottom's casting?", Harsh asked him.

Harry took the time to recall images of the two of them casting and evaluate those images in the light of his newly acquired knowledge before he answered. "Remus Lupin is a powerful wizard whose spells can create a wide area impact and consequently do more damage. By contrast, Neville Longbottom's spells have more power in them and are more focused. While Remus's spells would not destroy the target Neville's would destroy it utterly, possibly even causing objects to explode and cause secondary damage. Remus's spells would be more effective with targets which are difficult to hit or areas containing multiple targets. Neville's spells would be highly effective against targets which are more resilient. These are natural phenomenon and differ from wizard to wizard. It cannot be controlled or perfected by someone by their intention. This is like an inherent part of their magic which cannot be changed."

Harsh nodded, "Good Harry. Now tell me why does your shield falter in front of my mystics but it used to hold against your friends?"

"Ron and Hermione are not as powerful as mystics. They only cast with about half of their strength. Much of their potential remains unused. Hermione has a strong grasp of theory and has excellent technique, but she is not yet fully grown and she will become stronger as she matures. Ron," he shook his head, "just doesn't seem to work hard at anything. To make matters worse, he wasn't even using a wand which chose him during his first two years at Hogwarts. He will never be able to do much unless he has a complete change of attitude. When they used to practice with me, they were only a fraction powerful as compared even to your mystic trainees. Spells by themselves are not powerful but it depends on the power of the caster. The more powerful the caster is, the more powerful the spell will be. Your mystics are more powerful than ordinary wizards and I have no idea how they got that way", Harry finished his findings and Harsh was smiling at him.

"Now Harry we are around an hour away from India. We will be seeing the coastline very soon. I want you to saddle your ride and pack your belongings. When we land, you will help other as they require you to", Harsh instructed him.

Daily Prophet, London

Barnabas Cuffe, the editor of the Daily Prophet was sitting in his office behind his desk reading an article which the ministry had sent with orders to publish in the next day's edition. It made him sick to publish this rubbish. Journalism is publishing verifiable facts. This… this reminded him strongly of the work of the Russian paper "Pravda" during the muggle cold war. It was nothing but a fabric of lies woven with inuendo designed to discredit anyone who opposed the minister. He would just as soon wrap a bowtruckle in this aand print it. But, his orders came from the ministry and he liked his job, so, print it he will. What difference would one more article, painting Dumbledore as a balmy old git who was losing his marbles, make anyway.

He had guessed that something major had happened on the night of the third task. When Dumbledore had proclaimed that you-know-who was back, Cuffe did not dismiss his statement like many others. He wanted to publish the story, but without reliable witnesses, and the first hint of things to come, an order from the minister himself to refrain from publishing any such story, it did not get published. Since then, the stories had been getting nastier.

Was it possible that what Dumbledore was saying was true? He had never been known to lie before. Keep secrets, yes, but lie, no. Cuffe went over the facts in his mind one more time. No one knew what had happened to You-know-who at the end of the first war. Only thing that they had found was his cloak, a wand and a crying Harry Potter with his mother's dead body near him. They had believed Dumbledore's word that You-know-who was vanquished. Not dead, vanquished. Most people did not appreciate that there was a difference. But, Dumbledore chose his words carefully and he had a reason for choosing that one. It meant that Dumbledore believed even then that You-know-who would return eventually. Perhaps he knew something that no one else did and if Dumbledore knew something then there was no reason for them to doubt his word.

The harsh reality was that the ministry owned the paper. And so, if Cuffe wanted to keep his job, he published what the ministry wanted published and suppressed what the ministry wanted suppressed. As he read over the article one more time, he wondered if he could get away with making any changes to it without getting the sack. Perhaps he could establish a new column as "Letters from the Ministry" and add a disclaimer that this did not represent the opinion of this paper. Such a daring move would discredit the minister and maybe even restore the faith of the readers of the Daily Prophet but the paper was meant to be sold and make Galleons. Having the Ministry at loggerheads without some powerful backing would be fatal to his career.

He was interrupted in his day-dreaming by a disturbance in his outer office. He placed his quill back in its holder, readied his wand and rose from his chair to go and see what it was all about. Before he could even get out from behind his desk, the door to his office burst off its hinges and on the threshold stood one furious looking witch, namely Andromeda Tonks nee Black. His secretary was meekly peeking out from behind her, looking apologetic. With the first flick of her wand, his wand soared across the room to her outstretched hand. The second flick of her wand sent a bombarda through the space which Barnabas had just vacated in favour of the underside of his desk. There was a crazy witch in his office. She meant business. Security would be on the way. But, how would he stay alive long enough for help to arrive and him with no back-up wand?

Maybe he could stall her. "What do you want?" he called out from under his desk.

She growled, "I want you to grovel like the spineless worm you are", and shot away part of his desk.

He could hear her coming around the desk, crunching through the debris, trying to get an angle for a clean shot at him.

"A- a- anything you want! Just, please don't hurt me.", he squeaked, as he moved his chair, trying to use it as a shield.

The desk levitated away and landed on the other side of the room.

"There you are!" she said with a grin of satisfaction and reduced the chair to rubble with a reducto.

Cuffe just swallowed hart hard and looked down the wand that was now pointed between his eyes, "."Kill me if you want. It's not like my life is worth much anymore." And he broke down and wept.

"Fortunately for you Mr. Cuffe, those are not my orders. Would you be so kind as to inform your executive assistant that you will take my meeting now?", she said without moving the wand so much as an inch.

Still looking at the wand, he said, "Yes, of course." Then raising his voice so that his assistant could hear, "I will be meeting with Madame Tonks. Cancel all other appointments and do not allow anyone else to enter."

From the outer office, she responded, "Yes Mr. Cuffe. Shall I send in some tea?"

The assistant knew that her boss did not drink tea. This was code to ask if she should summon security to eject an unwelcome guest. Cuffe responded, "No, not today. I don't believe that Madame Tonks will take any tea."

A few moments later, the office was restored to order with the door, the furniture back in place and several anti-eavesdropping spells on the door. Cuffe was back behind his desk, with his visitor sitting opposite him. Cuffe was still shaking in his cloak, but; at least she had stopped aiming her wand at him.

"Do you know who I am, Mr. Cuffe?", she said glaring at him.

Cuffe looked just a little annoyed at the question, "Yes, madam, I certainly do. You are Andromeda Tonks nee Black, disowned for marrying a muggleborn, partner in a law firm with your husband and one other muggleborn lawyer. If I did not know that, you would already be on your way to Azkaban for trespass, destruction of private property, assault with a deadly weapon and making death-threats against a public figure. Does that about cover it?"

"Here is a news update for you, Mr. Cuffe. The new Lord Black has reinstated me and I am here representing his interests. You cannot charge me for trespassing at a place which he owns, nor can you charge me with destroying his property. I have neither threatened you nor assaulted you. As for the rest, read this", and she flung a stack of parchments on to his desk.

As Cuffe opened the stack of parchments, the first thing that caught his eye was the official seal of Gringotts. The document showed that the majority share holder of the Daily Prophet was, through his holdings, none other than Harry Potter and what's more, the ministry had sold off their shares during the economic crisis over eight years ago. His face went ashen gray.

"Well", he gulped, "With all the rot we've published about Harry Potter over the last year, I suppose you will want my resignation."

With a most imperious glare, she said coldly, "That Mr. Cuffe depends on our interview today. Before we go any further, do you understand the difference between a threat and a promise of specific performance, based on your actions?"

He looked to one side and then the other and seeing no help there, essayed an answer, "Threats may be empty, as in lacking the power or will to carry them out, whereas one both can and will carry out a promise of specific performance. Is that correct?"

"Close enough for our purposes. Let me assure you, Mr. Cuffe, that nothing I will say to you today is a threat", she said with finality as if the topic was closed for further discussions.

"It is the express wish of the owner of this paper that it becomes a credible source of news and information. To that end, no article shall be published without direct evidence, such as memory records, photographs, written documents, direct eye witness accounts. Second, no story shall be quashed which is both factual and in the public interest. Third, you will print two retractions per week until further notice regarding these articles", she slapped a thick folder full of clippings from the past year's issues on his desk.

"Will there be anything else, Madame Tonks?", he asked to make sure that was it.

"Yes", she said, producing another document and passing it to him, "You will cease and desist from printing any articles, ads or letters from readers which defame or depict Lord Potter in a negative way. Professor Albus Dumbledore has said, and you may quote him on this, that he does not care if you call him a balmy old geezer as long as you don't take him off the chocolate frog cards. However, I advise you that the entire staff of this paper is on probation. Any person or persons publishing a story without proper proof will be dismissed with cause, without references and without severance. Please issue copies of this notice to every one of your employees."

"Very well", he said, "I will do as you ask. There are certain individuals who are currently on the payroll who may not be on-board with this new vision for our paper. Am I free to re-structure as needed?", he said with a grin, savouring the thought of giving every ministry spy the boot.

Andromeda looked thoughtful for one moment then said, "Copy me on your restructuring. We won't be interfering with your day-to-day operations, but; I do want to know who you identify. It will be helpful in other areas."

Cuffe looked heavenward for strength before asking his next question, "When Fudge sees tomorrow's edition of this paper, he is going to have my head on a platter and it won't matter to me who owns the Daily Prophet then. What should I do?"

Andromeda gave a feral grin which really showed her teeth, "Mr. Cuffe, so long as you act to serve the interests of Lord Potter, the services of our firm are part of your package. Such action would result in a really bad day for the minister."

Even though the grin was not meant for him, it sent shivers down Cuffe's spine, "In that case, Madame Tonks, rest assured that I will be serving my employer's best interests at all times."

Andromeda looked straight into his eyes for a moment, then nodded, "Very well then, we have an agreement. I will not be asking for your resignation, however; should you fail to abide by any term of our agreement, you will be dismissed, the same as any other employee under these terms. There will be no review or appeal."

As Andromeda left, Cuffe saw her to the door of the outer office. He waved off the security people and he found the rest of his staff waiting in the hallway looking very anxious. In his best drill-sergeant's voice, he said, "Good! You are all here. That will save me the trouble of calling you all together. Conference room, now!"

By the time the meeting was over, several staff members who were nothing but ministry spies, had been fired, with cause because they had never written so much as a single word of what might be called journalism. Others who were questionable were put to work cleaning the presses and fetching for the real reporters. And, the people who had been submitting the real stories, and not getting published, were promoted. Tomorrow's edition was going to be very different. Lead Story, "The Daily Prophet, Under New Ownership" however as Andromeda said, he was not to announce the name of the new owner.

Minister of Magic's Office, London

Cornelius Fudge was in conference with his Undersecretary and his junior undersecretary. He was plotting a way to oust Dumbledore from the Wizengamot and as head master of Hogwarts. The old wizard was conspiring against the minister to oust him from his office and Cornelius would not let him win.

Dumbledore's efforts to undermine him with his outrageous claims that You-Know-Who was back from the dead would not stand. He would see to that. Cornelius had started his counter measures against Dumbledore and started weeding the ministry of Dumbledore's loyalists however there was a problem that none of them were openly forthcoming and there was no way that he could devise to ensure their loyalty towards him. A new wrinkle was that the Daily Prophet was no longer taking orders from the ministry. The large majority of the spies he had placed there were no longer permitted near the building. Those few which remained had been shunted to positions where they could not learn anything of value nor make any meaningful changes. The article that he had sent to the paper to publish which proclaimed that Dumbledore was senile and Harry Potter was a confused, insane and possibly dangerous teen which had been articulately worded by Umbridge and proofread by Weasley, was returned via an owl with a message that they had to send a memory to back up their claim. The parchment also seemed to have stains on it as if it had been in close proximity to discarded parchments with wet ink and food wrappers. He had immediately gathered the Aurors of his protection detail and proceeded to the offices of the Daily Prophet and tried to intimidate Barnabas Cuffe telling him that the ministry owned the paper and he would be fired if he refused to comply. The man responded by informing Mr. Fudge that the ministry had sold the paper during the economic crisis eight years ago. One of the houses had bought the paper and they had given orders that would restore The Daily Prophet as a legitimate news paper and that he, for one, was glad of the change. When Umbridge started berating out threats of pressing charges for treason and conspiracy, Cuffe ended the conversation by informing them that they would shortly receive a visit from his solicitors and advised them not to make things worse for themselves by any further contact with him, his staff or these premises. The entire party was escorted off the property by his security team. Feeling defeated and humiliated, they had returned to the ministry.

"Minister", his secretary called, "Madam Bones is here."

Grunting to allow her entrance, he straightened in his chair. A moment later, Amelia entered his office with some pieces of parchment in her hand.

She said, "Cornelius, I want a meeting to which no third party should be privy to."

Umbridge immediately simpered, "Surely you can speak in front of us, Madam Bones. The minister has complete faith in us."

Amelia eyed the witch hatefully and passed a parchment to Cornelius, "Cornelius, if you want me to discuss this in front of her, I would be delighted."

Seeing what was on the parchment, Fudge was mortified. This was clear evidence of him taking bribes from death eaters in the previous war and letting them go. Fudge had been paying a hefty bag of galleons to Rita to keep this buried but he did not know how Amelia had got her hands on it. If this got out, it meant that his career was over and he was bound for Azkaban. He signaled his undersecretaries to leave the office.

Umbridge immediately protested, "But Minister, it may be of importance for the ministry. I am the senior undersecretary…."

She did not finish her words before Fudge roared, "And I am the Minister, Dolores. You will do as you are told or you will find yourself looking for another job."

Umbridge and Weasley immediately left his office. The moment they left, with a wave of his wand, Fudge locked and muffled the door behind them. He chuckled shortly, "Let them just try and listen at keyholes now." And he cast an imperturbable at the door for good measure.

Amelia turned to him with a maniacal glint in her eyes making him shiver, "Now that the unpleasantries are out of the way, let's get down to business."

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