"Do you consent to the use of veritaserum so that we might be certain that your testimony is accurate and honest?" Amelia asked. The accused's consent was not needed, and they could be compelled to drink the potion if necessary, but they were always asked first, and it looked better for them if they agreed.
"I do," Sirius replied without hesitation, opening his mouth.
She dropped three drops of the potent potion on his tongue, and Harry watched as all traces of nervousness left him. His face went utterly blank, all hint of emotion leaving him as it took effect. As he watched Amelia ask Sirius a few standard questions so that the potions master they had on hand could verify that the potion had taken effect, he recalled how this trial had come about in the first place.
It was with only the slightest bit of nervousness that Harry wandered into the Three Broomsticks for his scheduled meeting with Amelia Bones. The director of the DMLE had agreed without condition to come to him in Hogsmeade rather than going to Dumbledore's office, or asking that he be brought to her, which was convenient but seemed strange to him. The fact that he was meeting with her instead of one of her underlings itself was strange. All her letters had said was that she wanted to verify a couple of things regarding the incident on the 24th of December, and given what developments had come in that case, that made sense, but he was still nervous.
"Why in the world would a guilty killer be nervous to meet with the country's top copper?" he thought to himself wryly.
He was confident that he left no traces when he killed Lucius, and between Wormtail's story of Crouch killing the other Death Eaters at the scene of Xenophilius and the Granger's murders and the breakout from Azkaban, he figured that there was a very obvious conclusion to come to. Crouch, having escaped from his father's custody, broke Voldemort's true followers out of prison and had started killing those who denounced his lord. It seemed like a simple enough idea for the aurors to come to, and it wasn't like he'd be anyone's first suspect, but he knew that prisons were full of people who thought they'd outsmarted the police, and he remained wary. He spotted Amelia Bones quickly enough, and his wariness turned to confusion in an instant as he realized that she had with her, not another auror, but the minister himself.
"Madam Bones, Minister," he murmured, looking over at Amelia and giving her a subtle, questioning look.
All he got in response was a look of irritation that he hoped wasn't directed at him.
"Harry, my boy, look at you!" Fudge said jovially. "You hardly resemble the short, thin boy I met in the Leaky Cauldron not too long ago."
"I'm a growing boy," Harry replied neutrally. "Forgive me for my surprise, Minister, but I wasn't aware that you were coming."
"It was a last-minute decision," Amelia muttered flatly. "Please, have a seat."
"Come now, Amelia, there's no need to treat the boy like a suspect," Fudge chuckled.
"I should hope not," Harry chuckled. "Your letters said that you wanted to go over what happened on the 24th?"
"I was wondering if you remembered anything else about what Crouch said that night," Amelia replied.
"This is because Crouch was behind the Azkaban breakout, isn't it?" Harry asked.
"A dreadful business that," Fudge muttered before Amelia could reply. "The sooner we capture him, the better."
"I cannot comment on ongoing investigations," Amelia said through gritted teeth, and Fudge developed a sudden interest in his bowler hat.
"As I said back then, he spoke about Voldemort as if he were still out there somewhere," Harry replied, forcing himself not to react as Fudge yelped. "He was clearly mad."
"Please don't use that name, Harry," Fudge begged. "He's dead; you don't need to fear that. Crouch is a rabid dog who should be rotting in Azkaban."
"Is he the one who killed poor Mister Malfoy?" Harry asked, keeping his face blank as Fudge's eyes went wide.
"How did you find out about that?" he demanded. The ministry had announced that Lucius had died but had kept the fact that it was a homicide out of the papers so far.
"I overheard a couple of the Slytherins talking," Harry lied smoothly. "Presumably they had heard from their own relatives. The old families are so closely connected, after all."
"Again, we cannot comment on ongoing investigations," Amelia muttered.
"What about closed ones?" Harry asked. "There was an interesting story in the paper several days ago about how someone fitting the description of Peter Pettigrew had been arrested. I did say that Pettigrew was still alive back in '93."
"I...er…" Fudge stammered, turning pale as Amelia went conspicuously silent.
"If Pettigrew is still alive, it brings Sirius Black's guilt into question," Harry continued, his eyes boring into Fudge's.
"Q...questions have been raised," Fudge stammered, "but with everything else that we're dealing with just now…"
"I understand," Harry nodded. "Between the breakout, the murder of Xenophilius Lovegood, and now this terrible business with Mister Malfoy, your hands are clearly quite full. If there's anything I could do…"
"Mister Potter, you are a Hogwarts student," Amelia pointed out, "and hardly in any position to…"
"He's not just any student, Amelia," Fudge chuckled. "Harry Potter is a symbol of hope to this poor nation of ours. Harry, my boy, given who you are and how affected you've been by this dreadful business, a statement of...confidence in the ministry might help to soothe some of the more frayed nerves out there."
"Oh, it very well might," Harry replied before Amelia could intercede, "and I would be happy to give a short statement to the Prophet once Sirius Black gets a trial."
"What?" Fudge asked, blinking at him.
"Minister, back in '93, Sirius Black claimed that Peter Pettigrew was the one who killed those muggles the night my parents were murdered and moreover, that he was also the one who betrayed my parents and was still alive. He has returned and admitted to those very things, has he not?"
"Yes, he has," Amelia replied quickly.
"Sirius also claimed that he never got a trial," Harry added. "Now, of course, you aren't to blame for any of that. Millicent Bagnold was the minister back then, and Barty Crouch Senior was in charge of the DMLE."
"That's...true," Fudge said with obvious reluctance, well aware of the fact that this was going to blow up on the ministry either way. "Both Black's situation and our current nightmare can be traced back to Crouch."
"I'm confident that you'll correct his mistakes, Minister," Harry smiled, "and an official willing to make amends for prior administration's failings is one that I would happily support. So long as nothing happens to Sirius between now and his trial, all will be well. Um, that kiss on sight order isn't still active, is it?"
"Oh, Merlin," Fudge said, paling dramatically. "I must go, my boy. Amelia, Black will be able to get a trial quickly, yes?"
"I am quite confident," Amelia replied dryly. "Good day, Minister."
As the offish politician tore off in search of a floo port, Harry chuckled.
"You handled him well," Amelia murmured.
"You don't generally handle follow-up questions yourself, even for cases as high-profile as this, do you?" Harry asked.
"Not generally, no," Amelia replied, all but confirming his suspicion that it was Fudge's insistence on coming that led her here as well. "Mister Potter, you're clearly this madman's target. He forced his way into the school to place you in the tournament, tried to abduct you when you caught on to the fact that he wasn't who he appeared to be…"
"And abducted my friends' parents purportedly to lure me out of here," Harry finished for her, rage settling on his face. "Trust me, if I could remember anything else from that night that I thought would help, I'd have written to you already."
"I understand," Amelia nodded sympathetically. "Tell me, have you ever heard of a pensieve?"
"I have," Harry replied. "Professor Dumbledore has one in his office. You want the memory of my fight with him?"
"I think at this point, it might help," Amelia replied. "You'll need to concentrate on the memory as hard as you…"
She trailed off, an eyebrow cocking upward as Harry's wand slipped into his hand and he drew the silvery strand of light from his brow.
"I trust I'll get this back?" Harry asked.
"As soon as I've reviewed it," Amelia replied, pulling a vial from a pocket in her robes. As soon as the memory was stored in it, she sealed it with a cork and added, "In light of the clear danger Crouch represents to you, I think it might be best if you were assigned a bodyguard."
"What?" Harry asked. "I hardly think that's necessary."
"Albus said the same," Amelia muttered. "As your magical guardian, he can refuse my offer, but not if you insist on on it. Crouch was a threat to you before he freed that cavalcade of monsters from Azkaban."
"Hogwarts is perfectly safe," Harry said flatly. The last thing he needed was an auror around with the kind of things he got up to these days. "Even at the height of Voldemort's reign of terror, it never came close to falling. Crouch might be terrible, but he isn't his old master."
"Even without him, they are still dangerous," Amelia insisted.
"That I'll allow, but it seems at the moment like they're busy killing each other," Harry argued. "I might reconsider at the end of the school year, but for now, I feel safe enough in the castle."
The conversation had more or less ended there. She couldn't force an auror guard on him, and he couldn't have aurors following him around during the day. They'd take less than kindly to him regularly meeting up with devils and even less kindly to the handful of murders he'd committed in the past few days.
"Did you betray the Potter's location to you-know-who?" Amelia asked.
"No," Sirius replied.
"Did you confront Peter Pettigrew in the aftermath of their deaths?" Amelia asked.
"Yes," Sirius replied.
"Why?" Amelia asked.
"He was the one who betrayed them," Sirius replied. "I was so angry that I could barely breathe, and I went after him."
"What happened next?" Amelia replied.
"He started screaming about how I had betrayed them and fired a blasting curse at the ground," Sirius replied. "He hit something muggley and it caused a massive explosion. I was dazed and confused, and when I saw him turn into a rat and run off, it made me think that we trusted a man whose spirit animal was a rat, and I started laughing. That's the state I was in when the aurors found me and the next thing I knew, I was in Azkaban."
That caused a series of murmurs to break out in the crowd, and Harry let out a long, slow breath. It had seemed for a while like this trial might never happen at all, with Pettigrew in the wind and Sirius' guilt being a foregone conclusion to almost everyone. The antidote was administered to Sirius then, and, once he was seated back in the defendant's bench, Amelia called for Pettigrew to be brought forward. The murmurs in the crowd turned to angry and revolted mutters as the short, unpleasant-looking man was led inside. He looked utterly calm, as though he wasn't about to confess to crimes that would see him imprisoned for life, and Harry was glad that no one had thought that odd yet.
"Mister Pettigrew, were…" Amelia went to ask.
"Hem hem," a sickeningly sweet voice rang out.
"Madam Umbridge?" Dumbledore asked, acting in his capacity as the Head Warlock of the Wizengamot, whose main chamber the trial was taking place in.
"Is Mister Pettigrew here not going to be given veritaserum as well?" Umbridge asked. "I mean, how are we to know that he even is who he claims to be?"
"Veritaserum can be compelled to verify the testimony of someone professing their innocence," Amelia replied. "In matters where someone is asserting their guilt, it is rarely suggested, much less compelled. As for his identity, that has been formally verified."
"Madam Bones is correct," Dumbledore nodded. "Please, go on."
Harry felt the slightest hint of resistance from Pettigrew then, the first he'd felt from the man since he first placed him under the imperious curse. Deep down, he knew that what he was about to do would be the end of him, either because he was going to spend the next few decades in prison or because Voldemort was going to kill him when he next got the chance. His will was weak, though, and Harry managed to clamp down on him with ease.
"Mister Pettigrew, were you the one to tell you-know-who where he could find the Potters?" Amelia asked.
"I was," Pettigrew replied softly. "When Lily and James found out that the dark lord was after them, they went into hiding and used the Fidelius Charm to make sure that he couldn't find them. I was chosen as their secret keeper because they thought that Sirius would be too obvious a choice, and I went along with it, but I regretted it immediately. I feared that he was going to find me and torture it out of me, so I made a deal with him."
"What happened after he failed to kill Harry Potter?" Amelia asked, her voice hardening only slightly.
"I fled," Peter replied. "I knew that Sirius knew I had to have been the one to betray them and feared that he'd kill me for it."
"I should have!" Sirius snarled, utterly furious.
"You have my sympathies, Mister Black, but you will refrain from any further outbursts in this courtroom," Dumbledore said sharply, giving Sirius a pointed look.
"What happened when he confronted you?" Amelia asked.
"When he confronted me, I spotted a group of muggles nearby and saw an opportunity," Peter replied. "I killed them and sliced off one of my own fingers, faking my death and framing him. I even shouted for all to hear about how he had been the one to betray them. I then took my animagus form and fled, eventually being spotted and taken as a pet by a young Bill Weasley."
That particular fact had already come out when Sirius was questioned more privately by the aurors so Harry knew there was no point in trying to shield them. He had already impressed upon the minister that they were innocent victims in all of this, and he seemed to take that as fact. With Lucius dead and most of his fellow Death Eater's out of the country, it wasn't like this bit of information was likely to be used against them, at any rate.
"So you lived as a rat for more than decade?" Amelia asked.
"I did," Peter replied. "It wasn't so bad. I had food, water, and a roof over my head, but then Sirius escaped and came after me, so I was forced to flee. I eventually found Crouch, being held prisoner by his father, and helped him escape."
"I'd say the evidence is clear," Amelia announced, turning to face the crowd sitting in the high seats with the minister. "By his own admission, given freely and multiple times now, Peter Pettigrew joined you-know-who back in the last days of his reign of terror and actively aided him in the murder of his own friends. He then murdered twelve muggles and framed the heir to an ancient and most noble house for both crimes. Not content with that, he then set out and helped free another mass murderer who actively terrorizes us to this day. In the end, he came and surrendered himself to our custody not out of guilt or a desire to set anything right, but out of fear that the very madman he helped free would come after him. He has offered no defense and has refused counsel. My lords of the Wizengamot, I find myself in the rare position of telling you outright that you must find the defendant guilty."
"I think we've seen enough," Dumbledore nodded. "Let all who would find this man guilty of the crimes he's admitted to raise and light their wands."
A few of them did so with obvious reluctance, but in the end, not one seated lord failed to vote guilty. Had more of the Death Eaters been present, there might have been a show of some dissent, but with them all on the continent by now, anyone who wanted to avoid freeing Sirius knew that they'd be voting alone and in utter futility.
"A unanimous verdict," Dumbledore murmured. "The first in quite some time. Mister Pettigrew, this court finds you guilty of aiding an enemy of the state, twelve counts of murder, and the perversion of justice. You are hereby sentenced to spend the rest of your natural life in Azkaban with no hope of release. The prison is aware of your status as an animagus, and steps have been taken to ensure that that will not help you."
Pettigrew just nodded and closed his eyes.
"Sirius Black, please rise," Fudge called. "As Mister Pettigrew has been convicted of the very crimes you were put in Azkaban over, normally, this would be the point where the Chief Warlock would formally declare your conviction in the matter voided, but as you were never tried, we can't even do that. What we can do, and what I unreservedly do now, is apologize for this grave injustice. The people responsible for it are dead and cannot pay, but a financial settlement will be agreed upon in a few days time. Part of that settlement will be us formally declining to pursue the matter of your status as an unregistered animagus, provided you register with all due haste."
He added that last part awkwardly, as though he really didn't want to say it, but whoever had written that little statement for him had obviously made clear that the ministry couldn't give the impression that they were allowing Sirius to remain an unregistered animagus. Sirius just nodded and sat back down, staring out in awe at the fact that he'd actually gotten his trial at all, something that he'd come to think might end up never happening.
"That was bizarre" Hermione whispered in Harry's ear. "Putting it to a vote when he outright confessed is something that we wouldn't bother with in the muggle world and if this was supposed to be a trial, it was barely a hearing by their standards."
"Magical courts function differently their muggle counterparts in general" Harry replied.
"At least it ended well," Luna murmured.
He had been given permission to accompany both of them to their parents' funerals, and when they asked Dumbledore to come with Harry to Sirius' trial, he agreed. Part of his reasoning for that was, Harry suspected, that he knew it would be so short. Pettigrew was escorted out for transport to Azkaban, and Sirius approached them.
"I can't believe that just happened," he breathed, a wide smile on his face.
"You're free," Harry nodded, "finally free."
"Thank you," Sirius whispered, pulling him in to a tight hug. Letting him go, he added, "I just wish it hadn't come at such a terrible price. Harry's asked me to formally take you two in as my wards. Is that something that you both want?"
"Yes," Luna replied. "It will be fun to watch you practice now and then if you still do."
"Practice?" Sirius asked.
"Do you think the Hobgoblins might reunite someday?" Luna asked.
"The Hob...I'm not actually Stubby Boardman, Luna," Sirius laughed awkwardly.
"Really?" Luna asked. "Miss Purkiss must have been wrong. Daddy would have been disappointed to learn that."
Her silvery eyes dimmed at the mention of her father, and Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She had been a little less withdrawn in the days since she used the stone to speak to her parents, but she was still far from normal.
"Thank you, Sirius," Hermione nodded. "At least Luna and I won't need to worry about any uncertainty on top of everything else."
"Congratulations, Sirius," Dumbledore murmured as he joined them. "What happened to you was a grave injustice, and I am glad to see it finally corrected."
"As am I," Sirius replied flatly. "I suppose you're serving as magical guardian for all three of them?"
"I am," Dumbledore nodded. "I understand that you wish to adopt Harry and take Miss Lovegood and Miss Granger in as your wards?"
"Yes," Sirius replied. "I need to register my animagus form anyway; would you mind coming along and taking care of the paperwork for that as well?"
"Do any of you have classes you're missing right now?" Dumbledore asked.
"It's lunch just now, actually," Hermione replied, checking her watch.
"Oh, so it is," Dumbledore smiled. "Well, then, unless you're desperate to get back to Hogwarts, we can take care of all of this before I return you to the castle."
"That sounds good to me," Harry murmured. "Like Hermione said, at least this way we can eliminate one concern."
"Right," Dumbledore nodded. "Since I have you here, I'll take the opportunity to remind you about your detention tonight."
"Oh?" Sirius asked. "What did you do?"
"Drew my wand on Snape," Harry replied.
"Oh, nice," Sirius murmured. Less than a second later, he amended, "I mean, that's very wrong, and you shouldn't do it."
Harry chuckled as Dumbledore shook his head and led them on.
"I don't think I've ever seen a man be calmer being led here," one of the aurors taking Pettigrew to his cell commented.
"I think he knows he's screwed either way," the other one chuckled. "How bad does this Crouch bloke have to be to make this hellhole seem preferable?"
Pettigrew said nothing, his mind in a pleasant fog as he was led to his cell. Part of him thought that this was wrong somehow and he should be struggling against it, but that made no sense. All was right in the world, and he was exactly where he needed to be. He was led past multiple empty cells and would have wondered why he wasn't being put in any of them if he could. Eventually, though, he was brought to one with a very different door, and the reason for it was immediately obvious. Rather than the bars on the door of the other cells, thick wrought iron things set about three inches apart, the door of this one was more solid, with only small holes giving him any kind of view. Those holes, about an inch across, had their own bars, ensuring that there would be no way for him to slip through them.
"In you get, you cowardly prick," one of the guards snarled, shoving him inside the cell and closing the door behind him.
They left, and he sat down on the small bed, staring blankly at the dark stone wall across from him. The moment the footsteps outside quieted down, he felt that pleasant fog in his mind recede and gasped in horror. Looking around, his heart rate spiked as he realized where he was and how he'd gotten there. Rushing to the door, he banged his fists against it, wincing when he realized how bad an idea that was. He transformed into his rat form and tried to gnaw on the thin metal bars in one of the lower holes, only to scream when it shocked him.
"Let me out!" he wailed. "It wasn't me! It was Sirius! Harry imperioused me and made me confess! This was all Harry Potter's plan!"
"Will you shut...Harry Potter?" Rita went to shout from the cell next to his. "What was that about Harry Potter?"
Her cell was even more closed in than his was, with a solid glass door taking the part of the bars. It was utterly airtight; to keep her bug form in, and without magic ensuring that some airflow was maintained, she'd have suffocated by now. Said spells ensured that sound got in and out as well, likely to serve as a further punishment for her.
The article had come from the Quibbler, but she knew that Harry Potter was the one behind it. She had antagonized him more than once with articles about him, his muggleborn friend, and the half-giant he was so fond of. She'd be in this cell for the next ten years because of him, and anything that might let her strike back someday she'd eagerly take.
"Yes, it was Harry!" Pettigrew wailed. "Who's there?"
"Rita Skeeter," Rita replied. "I'm in the cell next to yours. Potter put me in here too. Did you say he imperioused you?"
"Yes," Pettigrew replied, and Rita grinned.
It might be a decade before she could make use of that little tidbit, but she'd happily note it down anyway. It wasn't like she had much else to do just then.
"Be careful with that!" Malfoy hissed as Crabbe and Goyle slowly carried the vanishing cabinet through the empty hallway.
"Isn't it already broken?" Crabbe asked. "What's it matter if we scuff it?"
"Everything broken in it I need to fix!" Draco growled.
"Will you both shut up!" Lucian Bole hissed. "Most everyone is in the great hall now, having lunch, but we should still try to keep a low profile."
"You...can't speak to me like that," Draco spluttered.
"You'll find I can," Bole muttered. "You involved me in this because you couldn't disillusion yourselves and that bloody thing and needed someone who could."
Draco ground his teeth at the reminder that he'd needed to seek out the help of another. The disrespect from the older Slytherin was itself a far darker reminder as well. No Slytherin would have dared speak to him like that when his father was alive. He kept quiet, for while he could have threatened the beater with the dark lord's wrath, he'd kept the specifics of why he wanted that cabinet moved quiet from all three of them. He could not fail in this mission, not when it was his best shot at getting his revenge on Potter. Just seeing the dark-haired menace in the halls was enough to make his blood boil, and the thought of eventually getting to see him killed by the dark lord was the only thing keeping him sane.
The two of them continued to carry the cabinet towards the dungeons as Draco watched and Bole led them, all four of them, and it as invisible as the seventh year could make them. Slytherin students, like the Ravenclaws, got their own small rooms rather than being forced to dorm with others, and though it would be a very tight fit, he knew that he'd be able to get his lumbering followers to wedge the cabinet next to his bed. Just finding the damn thing had been annoying, as it hadn't been in the dark tower as his lord had said, but stored on the first floor.
"As much as it being moved wasted some time, at least it was moved closer to the dungeons," he thought to himself.
Speaking the passphrase to enter their common room, Bole opened the door and let them in. Crabbe and Goyle carefully carried the heavy cabinet to his room, and with a final thud that made him wince, got it more or less where he wanted it.
"There," Bole muttered, undoing the charms and padding his pocket, where Draco's galleons rested. "Pleasure doing business with you."
He left, and Draco brushed his hand aside to shoo Crabbe and Goyle out too. Alone with the cabinet, he fished the letter he'd gotten from Borgin the other day out of his pocket and read it over again. The man had been able to give him basic instructions on diagnosing the problem with the cabinet, as nothing else could be done until he knew what exactly was wrong with it. Draco read through the instructions another couple times before drawing his wand and getting to work. No matter what it took, if he had to spend his every free moment for the next couple months working on this, he would. Nothing mattered more than paying Potter back for what he'd done.
Nothing.
"Oh, 'ello," Fleur smiled as Harry, Hermione, and Luna walked into the omnilibrary.
"Fleur, hey," Harry smiled. "Is that one of Flamel's journals?"
"'Is grimoire," Fleur replied. "I was just looking over ze method given for creating ze philosopher's stone. It is...disturbing to put it mildly."
"Really?" Hermione asked.
"Sorry, Fleur, just one second," Harry said, holding up a finger. "Kreacher!"
"Master," Kreacher murmured dutifully, bowing his head as he appeared.
"Harry Potter, Sir?" Dobby asked, joining them immediately and eyeing the other elf warily. "Who is this?"
"Dobby, this is Kreacher, Sirius' elf. Kreacher, this is Dobby, my elf," Harry replied, introducing them. "Dobby, Kreacher is here to help you with the library."
"Did Dobby do something wrong?" Dobby asked, his eyes growing misty.
"No, not at all," Harry said reassuringly.
"You have every book ever written in here," Hermione added. "It's a lot to handle."
"And we don't think it would be wise to keep this up during the summer," Harry concluded. "If possible, I'd like to see the job done before the end of the school year, and that will require further help."
"This really is bigger than the Black library," Kreacher muttered reluctantly.
"It includes the Black library," Luna pointed out.
"Dobby will redouble effort," Dobby squeaked. "Dobby hopes older elf can keep up."
Kreacher just glared at him and got to work, immediately taking some of the blank paper and grabbing a book from the shelves.
"Shall we?" Harry asked, pointing towards the bedroom.
"'Arry, are you inviting me to bed?" Fleur asked, her eyes sparkling.
"Oh, can we?" Luna asked, perking up slightly. It was the first time Harry had heard her speak with enthusiasm about anything since her father's death, and he smiled at her.
"I need to get to arithmancy in about ten minutes," Hermione said. "I would like to hear more about the philosopher's stone, though, if possible."
"I can give a quick summary," Fleur smiled, leading them inside. "If people knew the process involved in making ze philosopher's stone, ze Flamels would not be remembered as fondly as zey are."
"What's involved, human sacrifice?" Harry asked, his eyes going wide a moment later as Fleur didn't correct him.
"Seriously?" Hermione asked.
"A philosopher's stone is a 'uman soul transformed," Fleur replied.
"What?" Harry asked. "A soul? I held it in my hand. How is that possible?"
"To make it, you sacrifice someone and transfer zeir soul into a quartz crystal," Fleur replied. "Ze crystal cannot hold such power and will break down within days, but zat is expected."
"How does one transform a soul into a solid object?" Hermione asked.
"Ze process 'as four stages: nigredo, albedo, citrinitas, and rubedo," Fleur replied. "In ze first stage, all of ze darkness within ze soul is forced out of it, its sins worked through and expunged. Ze crystal turns black at ze start of zis process and lightens gradually through it. When it turns white, you've reached ze second stage. In zis stage, you work to remove ze personality of ze soul, all zat was imprinted on it in life."
"This is horrific," Hermione breathed, her tone not matching her words, as Luna just watched with wide eyes.
"As I say, zere are many reasons why Flamel never shared zis with ze wider community," Fleur murmured. "Ze third stage involves further purifying ze soul in the light of the sun and zen ze fourth stage is where ze alchemist binds ze stone to zeir own being by pouring zeir blood into it. By zis point, ze quartz crystal has already started to crack, and it is only zrough ze sun stage zat it doesn't break apart earlier. Once filled with blood, it is remade into its new form and zis is where it usually fails."
"How so?" Harry asked, curious.
"Ze soul has been radically altered, but it is still not solid," Fleur replied. "Ze quartz breaks and ze soul flies free, eventually returning to its base form and going on to ze afterlife."
"How did he manage to solidify it then?" Harry asked.
"By bathing it in what he called 'ze quintessence,'" Fleur replied, "but what zat actually is 'e does not say."
"Interesting," Hermione murmured. "He just calls it that and goes into no detail at all?"
"None," Fleur replied. "I was looking over ze grimoire again to see if zere were other 'ints about ze quintessence in it but it seems zat zere aren't. I intend to look over Flamel's journals just to see if 'e ever wrote down what it was because I am curious what could turn a soul into a physical stone like 'Arry described. Zis is purely out of academic curiosity, of course."
"It wouldn't necessarily have to be," Harry thought to himself.
There were quite a few people out there who he thought would make excellent sacrifices if they could figure out how to make it work. The potential benefits of having the stone when he became a devil were immense. From what Rias had told him, he knew that he'd be entering the underworld at the bottom of a proverbial totem pole and that him being in a relationship with her was something that most would look down on. She didn't care, but he didn't want to cause her undue trouble, and he knew that the greatest way to increase one's standing in the Underworld was displaying power.
"If I could sacrifice one of the Lestranges and turn them into a stone, I could use it to mass-produce the crystals Ajuka uses for the evil pieces," he thought to himself. "Let them look down on me then."
"Well, this was...interesting, I suppose, but I must go," Hermione murmured, shaking her head. "I'll see you three at dinner, yes?"
"See you then," Harry smiled, kissing her.
"Have fun in arithmancy," Luna said softly, kissing her cheek. "If anyone can, it would be you."
"Thanks, Luna," Hermione chuckled, kissing her forehead. "Bye all."
"Bye, 'Ermione," Fleur nodded. Once the door closed, she turned to Luna and asked, "'Ow are you 'olding up?"
"My heart still hurts, but being able to say goodbye to Daddy helped," Luna replied.
"I still cannot believe you found ze Resurrection stone," Fleur muttered as she wrapped her arms around Luna.
"Hugs do help," Luna sighed, resting her head against Fleur's large breasts through her tight sweater.
"You've been around me long enough to know that strange things just find their way to me," Harry replied, wrapping his arms around them both, trapping Luna between them.
"Considering we stand in ze middle of every library in ze world brought together as one, in a bedroom you've fucked two devils on or against every surface of, I cannot disagree," Fleur chuckled. "It will get better, Luna. I lost my grandpere a couple years ago, and I still miss him, but that chest-caving feeling did wane over time."
"Distractions help," Luna murmured, looking up at her, "and I have over an hour before my next class."
"What did you have in mind?" Harry asked, brushing her hair behind her ear as he pressed his hardening cock against her.
"Sex mostly," Luna replied, taking him literally.
"Well, zat we can arrange," Fleur murmured, pressing one of her fingers against the younger girl's chin and raising her head before capturing her lips with her own.
Luna squeaked and wrapped her arms around the Veela's head, returning the kiss eagerly. Harry watched the two of them make out with a smile. Luna had wanted Fleur even more than he did and had explicitly asked for him to seduce the Veela as a birthday gift to her. They'd all grown rather busy in the immediate aftermath of him doing so, and then Crouch and Voldemort unleashed their evil on them, and sex became the last thing on his youngest lover's mind. Her being willing at all was something he was taking as a good sign, and he swore he wouldn't rest until she was such a pile of orgasmic goo he had to help her to her next class.
"You're a very good kisser," Luna murmured.
"As are you, Luna," Fleur smiled, brushing her light blonde hair around one of her ears. "Zese earrings are...unique."
"Do you like them?" Luna asked, playing with the other one. "I've always liked how radishes look, and I think the color stands out wonderfully against my skin and hair."
"Zey are very you," Fleur replied, "and I agree zat zey look good on you."
"As do I," Harry murmured as he nibbled on Luna's earlobe. "In fact, I don't think you should wear anything else."
That brought a smile to Luna's face, and she swiftly drew her wand. With a wave of it, all three of them were undressed, and Fleur chuckled at her sudden nudity. Harry looked the both of them up and down, and his cock throbbed at the sight. Fleur was all curves while Luna was thin, but they were both undeniably beautiful. The shorter blonde's silver eyes were wide as she took in the sight of Fleur in all her glory, and she bit her lower lip gently.
"I'm so glad Harry took you to bed," Luna smiled.
"As am I," Fleur giggled. "Our reasons differ slightly, I imagine."
"I asked him to fuck you for my birthday," Luna admitted plainly, "because I figured if he did, you'd start joining in on our wonderful orgies, and I'd get to taste you."
"Well, 'ere I am," Fleur purred, sitting down on the bed and extending a foot towards Luna. "Taste away."
"Okay," Luna smiled, taking her foot in hand and pressing her lips against her soft sole.
"Not what I...ugh…'ad in mind, but okay," Fleur sighed as Luna started sucking on her toes. "You didn't tell me I was Luna's birthday gift, 'Arry."
"It slipped my mind," Harry chuckled, sitting down on the bed and cupping her cheek. "As you'll recall, I was rather wonderfully distracted that first night."
"Wonderful is ze word," Fleur grinned, snaking a hand around his head and pulling him down to kiss him.
The two of them made out passionately as Luna started inching her way downward along Fleur's long leg, peppering it with kisses. Her skin was so smooth and so flawless, it felt lovely against Luna's cheek, and she knew that she couldn't wait to feel the older girl's thighs tighten around her head. The scent of her arousal and the feeling of her unbound allure were equally intoxicating to the other blonde, and as she reached Fleur's thigh, she found herself too impatient to not taste her pretty pink slit directly.
"Ahh, fuck!" Fleur sighed as Luna gave her pussy a long, slow lick.
"Mmm, you're just as delicious as I imagined," Luna smiled.
"She really is, isn't she?" Harry rumbled, kissing his way down along Fleur's neck towards her large breasts.
"Fucking 'ell, you two," Fleur gasped as Harry captured one of her rosy nipples with his lips.
"I can't wait to have you sit on my face while Harry splits me in two," Luna beamed, moving up towards Fleur's clit.
She swirled her tongue around the fully engorged nub, making Fleur's thighs clench around her head, and pushed three of her thin fingers inside her, curling them upward as she sought out the Veela's g-spot. Fleur was in heaven, feeling Harry worship her breasts, switching back and forth between them as he pleased, while Luna ate her out with surprising skill. She grabbed onto the blonde's head, holding her in place as she grazed her nails over Harry's scalp and moaned in delight.
"I should have seduced you after ze first task," Fleur moaned. "We could 'ave...ahh...enjoyed ourselves like zis for months longer zan we 'ave."
"I hadn't actually slept with Luna or Hermione yet by that point," Harry chuckled, "so things would 'ave been different."
"Even better," Fleur chuckled. "Oh, by ze goddess, Luna! I could 'ave 'elped you bed zem sooner too. With my 'elp 'Ermione would have fallen into your bed with ease."
"That could have been fun," Harry chuckled, letting her breasts go and kissing a trail down along her flat belly towards Luna. Leaning in, he whispered in her ear, "I think you've teased her enough, luv."
"Oay," Luna replied, the sound muffled by Fleur.
Pumping her fingers in and out hard enough to make squelching sounds echo through the room, Luna sucked on Fleur's clit just like Akeno had taught her.
"Oh fuck!" Fleur cried, using her free hand to knead one of her breasts. "Oh yes, don't stop, don't stop don't...OUI!"
Her magnificent arse rose off the bed as her back arched and she came hard. Luna beamed down at her new lover, happy to have brought her such pleasure, and continued to stroke her g-spot as she convulsed in ecstasy. The veela's legs shook and spasmed, allowing her to lift her head up. Fleur's breasts rolled across her chest as she continued to writhe on the bed, her pale skin awash with rosy patches, and Luna thought she'd never looked more beautiful. Her allure had gone wild, billowing through the room, and the younger blonde knew that her arousal was running down her thighs, something that Harry quickly noticed too.
"You're delicious too," he whispered in her ear, scooping some of her leaking fluids up from her inner thigh and bringing his fingers to his lips.
Luna shivered in delight as she saw him suck her pussy juice off of the thick digits, and she pulled him down hungrily for a kiss, which he happily returned. Fleur's orgasm tapered off, and, panting for breath, she sat up, taking in the sight of her lovers' passionate kissing with a wide grin.
"Zat was wonderful, Luna," she purred. "I 'ad no idea zat you were so talented."
"I had some really good teachers," Luna smiled.
"I will 'appily return ze favor, but if 'Arry's cock gets any 'arder, it might burst," Fleur giggled, looking down at his throbbing length.
"I love when it gets like this," Luna smiled. "The head turns the prettiest shade of purple."
Fleur guffawed at that while Harry looked at Luna indignantly.
"Did you just call my cock pretty?" he asked.
"I think it's beautiful," Luna breathed, wrapping her hands around it and bringing the turgid shaft to her lips. "I could spend all day kissing it, but I'm really horny right now, and I think I'd rather take it inside me."
"You shouldn't neglect 'er 'Arry," Fleur admonished, almost managing to look serious.
"How do you want me?" Harry asked.
"Lie back and let me ride you," Luna replied, and he did so quickly.
She picked up and moved into position, hovering above him for just a moment before sinking down in one long, smooth motion. She squeaked as she felt him spread her inner walls wide, stretching her to her limits. The fullness was sublime and something that she'd known she would crave from the moment she first felt it. He felt so good inside her, warm, thick, and throbbing, his every bulging vein massaging her insides as she took him inch by inch.
"I am genuinely impressed," Fleur laughed, sounding surprised as Luna's pert butt came to rest on Harry's thighs. "You are so small, and he is so very large; I did not zink you'd take all of 'im."
"His penis is so good," Luna sighed, resting her head back on Fleur's shoulder. "I missed this, Harry."
"You seemed to need space, and I was happy to give it to you," Harry murmured, reaching up to brush her hair behind her ear and cup her cheek.
"Well, now I need this," Luna sighed, resting her hands on his chest.
"Whatever you need, Luna," Harry whispered, bringing one of her hands to his lips and kissing it.
"I love you," Luna smiled.
"I love you too," Harry replied.
Luna started riding him slowly, sensually, each roll of her hips languid and careful as she stared down into his eyes. Harry held onto her hips and let her start at her pace, content to lie back and see what she had in mind. The sheer affection in her eyes was enough to make his heart flutter, and though there was still pain in them, for the moment at least, it seemed that she wasn't focused on it at all. Fleur wrapped her arms around her and started kissing her neck, her allure in full force.
"Oh fuck!" Luna whimpered, picking up her pace as she felt a sudden surge of arousal.
Harry reached up with one hand to cup one of her perky breasts and started thrusting up in time with each roll of her hips. Her whimpers turned to strangled cries as pleasure wracked her body and the pressure in her core grew rapidly. Eating Fleur out had turned her on greatly and would have even without the Veela's allure driving her wild. Between that and having Harry inside her for the first time in days, she found herself soaring towards her peak faster than usual, and soon enough, her hips were a blur as she rode him hard and fast.
"So good, so good!" Luna moaned. "Harry, roll us over so Fleur can sit on my face."
"I 'ave a better idea, Luna," Fleur purred, pressing her lips against the younger girl's back. "Just keep riding 'Arry like zis and I'm sure you'll like it."
"O...kay!" Luna screamed as he hit a spot deep inside her that made her see stars.
Harry was kneading both of her breasts by then, his large, strong hands making her feel amazing, and she reached up to run her nails through his hair, feeling like her heart might melt from the way he was looking at her. Fleur kissed her way down along her back, and Luna furrowed her brow in confusion, wondering what exactly the beautiful Veela had in mind. Her confusion grew greater a moment later as she spotted Fleur grabbing her wand through the corner of her eye. A sudden cold feeling on her arsehole made her squeak, and before she even thought to ask what that was, she felt Fleur's tongue brush across her puckered hole and she squealed.
"What's...oh fuck," Harry groaned as he sat up and saw what Fleur was doing.
Squeaking staccato moans spilled from Luna's lips as Fleur swirled her tongue around her little rosette. It felt weird, but so good, and together with having Harry buried to the hilt inside her, she swore Fleur might actually make her cum.
"Fuck 'er, 'Arry," Fleur all but commanded. "Pound 'er little pussy while I eat 'er ass."
"Fucking hell," Harry groaned, hooking his arms under Luna's knees.
He looked into her eyes, already starting to turn unfocused as pleasure assaulted her senses, and grinned devilishly. Bracing himself, he started thrusting up into her dripping wet pussy, pounding her hard. Luna's warbled moans turned to shrieks as he did his best to drive her as mad as most used to say she was. They didn't anymore; few were willing to bother a girl so obviously close to Harry, whose growing power and ability had not escaped the notice of those around him. It was one more thing that she owed to the man she loved, but she couldn't focus on that just then, or indeed anything other than the way he was spearing into her again and again while Fleur ate her asshole.
"More, more, more, more!" Luna squealed.
"Cum for me," Harry whispered in her ear. "Be a good girl and cum."
"AHHH!" Luna shrieked as her orgasm hit hard.
Harry let her legs go and wrapped his arms around the shaking, writhing girl as pleasure thundered through her. She squirted all over him, soaking his groin and the bed under him, and he grinned at seeing her come undone so powerfully. Fleur started kissing a trail up along her sweaty lover's back as soon as she came and wrapped her arms around the both of them, pressing her breasts against the younger girl's heated skin as she trapped her between them.
Luna's screams turned to whimpered sobs as she cried, and Harry looked down at her, concerned for a moment, before Fleur shook her head. Cooing soft nothings in her ear, the Veela soothed her, and Harry joined in, hoping that the soft, intimate moment would be good for her. Luna's whimpers quieted down, and she stopped crying as she came down from her high. Harry had started running his fingers through her hair by then, and between that and the wonderful feeling of his powerful, muscular body against her chest and Fleur's breasts against her back, she swore she could fall asleep right there. It was only when she felt Harry's hard length throb inside her and noticed the lack of warmth she always felt when he filled her up with cum that she pulled back.
"You didn't cum," she stated. "Why did you stop?"
"You were crying," Harry replied. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."
"I came really hard," Luna smiled. "Thank you for licking my anus, Fleur. That felt really, really nice."
Fleur laughed at that and said, "Zink nothing of it."
"Do you want to fuck Harry?" Luna asked. "He still needs to cum, and we should probably finish soon if either of us wants to get to our next classes."
"Such a generous offer," Fleur murmured with a grin. She was starting to find the other blonde very amusing.
Luna pulled herself off of Harry's cock with a cute little grunt and crawled away on shaky legs. She was very eager to watch him fuck Fleur and see how the real thing compared to the countless fantasies she'd had over the past few months.
"Luna, lie on your back," Fleur murmured. "I want to soothe zat very pink pussy with my tongue while 'Arry takes me like a bitch."
Luna squeed and rolled onto her back without hesitation, spreading her legs wide and smiling widely down at her lovers. In her mind's eye, she could see thousands more days just like this with Harry and the dozens of other lovers she was sure they'd take as the years went on. Her mother and father had told her to try and find family going forward and that was exactly what she was going to do.
Fleur slowly crawled towards her, her wide hips swaying as she moved and her pendulous breasts swinging under her. She made a mental note to bury her face between them before they left the room. The Veela buried her face between her thighs, and Luna gasped, sinking her fingers into her silver-gold locks as she started lapping at her gaping quim.
"Man, I love being me sometimes," Harry murmured to himself, his eyes flicking between Fleur's incredible arse and Luna's look of pleasure.
Fisting his cock, he moved into position and, after taking a moment to line himself up with her dripping slit, buried himself inside her to the hilt.
"Yes!" Fleur cried. "We don't 'ave long, 'Arry. Fuck me like a 'ore!"
Harry grinned and dug his fingers into her fleshy hips, more than willing to give her what she wanted. As soaking wet as she was, he didn't need to work himself up to it at all and soon was fucking her hard and fast, his cock pistoning in and out of her squelching cunt. Luna moaned loudly, staring down at Fleur in awe and wonder as she devoured her pussy.
"Mmm, I knew I'd enjoy this," Luna sighed happily, and Harry smiled.
It was nice to see her enjoying herself again, and he hoped it was a sign of things to come. He knew that she had a long, difficult road ahead of her, and anything that he could do to help her with it, he'd do without reservation. It wasn't as though sharing a beautiful Veela with her was much of a hardship, after all.
"Sona, hi," Rias smiled, her blue eyes shooting right to the familiar scroll in her friend's hands.
"I looked it over," Sona murmured as she sat down. "This is an extraordinary work of magic. If its use became widespread, it would solve a number of problems in the Underworld but it is not without its potential drawbacks."
"Oh?" Rias asked.
"The tracking feature you're thinking about this because of in the first place could theoretically be suppressed," Sona replied. "With your lover's enemy being another mortal wizard, I doubt he'd manage to, but I can think of a few ways that the connection could be hindered. The biggest potential problem I see, though, relates to you. You cannot use your own power for this ritual."
"Why not?" Rias asked.
"Both the punishments described in it and the ways that they can be triggered are frustratingly vague, and because they're unique to whatever power is used in the binding ritual itself, you, Lord Sirzechs, your nephew, and the entire Bael clan save for Sairaorg cannot ever use it directly." Sona replied.
"The Power of Destruction," Rias breathed, paling at the thought of it. "But Harry wouldn't betray…"
"It isn't just triggered by outright betrayals," Sona interrupted her, "or at least, it doesn't seem to be. Even reluctance to do something you say can trigger a punishment, and though they seem to scale with the level of the offense, and in my case, such a thing might just make a servant uncomfortably cold and wet, yours is not a subtle power, old friend."
"Damn it," Rias muttered.
"You can still use it, but your power cannot fuel the ritual," Sona said. "I'd advise against using your queen either, for much the same reason. Though it can be done with just the master and servant, a third person can conduct the binding ritual instead, and I'd suggest doing that."
"Thank you," Rias sighed, taking the scroll from her.
"No problem," Sona smiled. "It really is one of the most fascinating things I've looked at in ages. Did you learn more about the odd script?"
"Lord Zekram was unusually forthcoming, apparently," Rias replied. "He said that he'd never seen the script himself, and though he agrees that it does resemble Luciferian to an extent, it is not the Lightbringer's work."
"That is truly bizarre," Sona muttered. "The most likely explanation in my view would be that it was one of the seventy-two. Like the incubus-succubus project, it must have been lost during the war. Why the person in question decided to try and make his or her version of Luciferian when the language itself was already so superfluous, I have no idea."
"A mystery we'll likely never get the answer to," Rias sighed.
"My least favorite kind," Sona scowled. "Well, do let me know how it goes."
"I will," Rias nodded. "Thanks again for your help, Sona."
"Anytime," Sona smiled.
"Merlin's balls, this place is hot," Crabbe muttered. "How is anywhere this hot in March?"
"It's the southern hemisphere," Gibbon replied.
"Yeah, what does that have to do with it?" Crabbe asked.
"Just as we're heading into spring back home, or will be soon enough, these lot will be heading to autumn soon," Gibbon replied. "It's reversed."
"How the hell does that work?" Crabbe asked.
"Silence," Voldemort hissed, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming.
"My apologies, master," Gibben nodded.
"You're certain this is the place?" Voldemort asked, looking at Reinhardt.
"Ja," Reinhardt nodded. "Zis is ze place."
"How can you be sure?" Crabbe asked. "Aren't you...blind?"
"You're blinder zan I am, boy," Reinhardt spat. "To von who has explored ze greater mysteries of magic, physical sight can be more of a distraction zan an asset. I'd know ze feeling of zis magic here anyvhere. Ze largest boulder over zere; tap your vand on it."
"Okay," Crabbe murmured, walking over and doing as he was told as soon as Voldemort nodded.
The moment he tapped his wand on the boulder, he felt the air flee his lungs and his throat close. He panicked, his wand flying out of his hand as he clawed at his throat, desperate for breath.
"Klaus," Voldemort murmured under his breath.
"As velcoming as ever, Frau Rosier," Reinhardt chuckled, and Crabbe's struggling stopped.
He was released a moment later and fell to the ground desperately gasping for breath.
"Reinhardt?" an older, female, French-accented voice called out.
Before their eyes, the boulder opened and an old woman emerged. Clad in black robes, her long white hair was brought together into a single long braid that she had coiled around her shoulders. Her right eye was false, a magical replacement that Voldemort could tell at a glance saw far more than her old one would have. Her remaining blue eye shone with palpable anger as she regarded them, and it brought a slight smile to his thin lips.
"What in ze world are you doing 'ere?" she asked.
"My associate here vanted to meet you," Reinhardt replied. "You two have a couple zings in common. Voldemort, zis is Vinda Rosier, Vinda, zis is Voldemort."
"Miss Rosier," Voldemort nodded. "I knew your nephew."
"You're ze one Evan died in service of," Vinda replied neutrally. "I always zought 'im weak. What could we possibly 'ave in common?"
"Dumbledore," Voldemort replied, his grin growing wider as the name sparked an all-too-familiar rage in the woman before. "I think you're going to find what I have to say very interesting."
Vinda glared at him, clearly considering whether or not to bother humoring him at all. Klaus had made it very clear that there was little chance that she'd have bothered with him at all if he'd come alone. Grindelwald's one-time right hand had barely survived the war and escaped to Argentina only because she was presumed dead. She'd lain low ever since and avoided detection for decades. He knew there was a chance that even with Klaus introducing him, she'd still want nothing to do with him and trying to force her in this case would be counterproductive. He was hoping that her famous loyalty to her old master would shine through, though. After all, who other than him could hope to pull off what he was about to suggest? Who else could free Gellert Grindelwald?