Edward (Ted) Mathias Tonks, associate law wizard with Sharkey and Associates in Vertic Alley, was having a weird month. Granted his life since his eleventh birthday when he and his family were informed he was a wizard and invited to attend Hogwarts School was best described as weird.
He had learned to tolerate that weirdness if not completely accept it.
Just as he had learned to tolerate the fact that his wife had been disowned by her pure-blood supremacist family when her contraceptive potion 'failed' before her NEWTS exams and she got pregnant while still at Hogwarts. What truly grated was that she hadn't been disowned for getting pregnant and using that to break a betrothal contact she'd never agreed to, but that pure-blood Slytherin Andromeda Lyra Black of the 'Ancient and Noble' Black family had gotten knocked up by a 'completely unacceptable' Hufflepuff muggleborn.
But then, his own parents had been profoundly disappointed in him for getting his girl friend pregnant when he wasn't in a position to support her or a child and then Ted making the decision to go into law instead of following his father and grandfather into medicine despite a talent for healing.
Luckily his parents had grown to accept Dromeda and they utterly doted on Nymphadora allowing Ted to slog his way through an apprenticeship with Thomas Sharkey to become a law wizard while at the same time taking non-magical law courses. Now he was a law wizard with a British practicing certificate, one of several muggleborn 'switch hitters' at his firm.
And this month, thanks in part to the 'Potter Investigation', Dromeda's cousin Sirius had been exonerated and released from Azkaban, had taken up the Head of House ring for the House of Black, and brought Dromeda and her family back into the House she'd been born into. That came with the dowry she should have received back when they got married. It was a nice windfall.
Then today, to add to the weirdness, not only had all the known marked Death Eaters died, reduced to wizened husks, but Madame Amelia Bones and Minister Cornelius Fudge had visited the firm to hire a muggleborn law wizard with expertise with unbreakable vows for a special Ministry project. Angelique DuPres had been assigned to the project and she was good.
Dromeda was still reeling from the news that her elder sister Bellatrix was dead, along with Bellatrix's husband and his brother. All three had been notoriously sadistic followers of Riddle but the news that Riddle had murdered them was still a shock. At the moment Dromeda was stress cleaning and Dora was out with friends, probably celebrating her aunt's death.
Ted's ruminations were interrupted by the arrival of a post owl. The message was a request for a floo call with Dromeda's younger sister Narcissa. The letter included the current password for the floo at Malfoy Manor.
Ted made the call. Narcissa responded so quickly he suspected she'd been waiting for her own floo to make the connection.
"Edward," she began. "Has anyone from the Ministry contacted you for work?"
"Not me, personally," Ted told her. "But the firm has been hired for a Ministry special project."
Narcissa looked thoughtful for a moment. "Are you free to take on a possibly related project?"
"Depends on what it is."
"Come on through and we can talk," Narcissa said. Her face disappeared from the green flame. Ted grabbed his briefcase, ducked down, and stepped through to Malfoy Manor. Narcissa was waiting along with a man he recognized – Severus Snape.
Narcissa beckoned both men to follow her to the library where she locked the doors and cast a silencio. She indicated a small table set with with a tea service and settled into one of the upholstered chairs. The two men followed suit.
"We will be discussing both family business and matters my husband wanted looked at regarding systemic bigotry and injustices in the laws of magical Britain," Narcissa said, pouring tea.
"Mrs. Malfoy…" Ted began.
She waved him off. "We are family. Dromeda calls me 'Cissy'."
"Cissy, Lucius was a Death Eater," Ted stated cautiously. "That group was never known for open minded acceptance of anyone."
"Very true," Severus agreed. "But what is not common knowledge is the fact that Dumbledore promoted those injustices using his power as Chief Warlock and promoted bigotry and hatred by using mind magics on his students and staff. In fact…"
Severus pulled a sealed vial from his pocket and handed it to Ted. "I don't know if your firm requires periodic cleansing of possible mind-magics, but that is a goblin brewed cleansing potion."
Ted handed the vial back. "We have a healer on staff who is checked monthly for mental influences. She checks the staff on a regular basis and after dealing with certain clients or Ministry people in the building."
Severus seemed amused. "Your firm doesn't trust Ministry people?"
"Mister Sharkey doesn't trust them on general principles not to mention unpleasant past interactions that simply confirmed that distrust. For the record, Albus Dumbledore is on our 'lock down all the files and check everyone after meeting' list."
"Smart man," Narcissa commented. "But to get back to the subject of Lucius's wishes. Yes, he was a Death Eater and Riddle was extraordinarily persuasive. But when Lucius was cleansed of the mind magics affecting him, he realized that not only was Riddle quite insane, but he was a pawn in a much larger, much older, campaign against non-magicals and non-human magic users. That campaign started well before the publication of the list of twenty-eight but the biggest lie of that campaign is the idea the two people who have no magical core can produce a child who has one. The goblins know this is a blatant lie but they are banned by the Ministry from voluntarily informing their new clients of their heritage and rights."
"We had suspected as much," Ted said. "Back when I started at the firm, the goblins told me I could claim rights to the Ancient and Noble House of Toller, if Toller had anything of value aside from a name and confirmation that I have a magical ancestor who fathered a squib who became one of my great-great-grandmothers. Apparently all his other children managed to get themselves killed. I was told at that time that the goblins know for a fact that there are no such things as 'muggleborns'. Every alleged muggleborn is the child of a squib and every squib is descended from a known magic-user. At least a magic-user known to the goblins, if not admitted to by the Ministry."
"As interesting as this is, we keep getting off topic," Severus commented.
"I would call it getting on the same page of the same book," Narcissa corrected. "However, we do need to address the family issue before continuing. And before we do that, I need assurances that what we reveal will not be discussed with anyone who is not already aware of the situation."
"You're not going to ask me to do something illegal, are you?" Ted asked.
"No," Severus stated firmly. "The issue involves certain status complications we'd rather the Ministry not get involved in on any level."
Ted had a sudden intuition that they were talking about Lucius. Lucius who had been declared dead even though the DMLE had not been given the body for inspection.
"I think a legal retainer contract should cover this. It enforces a magical vow of nondisclosure on me while you must tell me the truth. It does not prevent you from not disclosing the truth to me, but you can't outright lie about it to me." He opened his case and pulled out a red quill and a sheet of parchment, and laid both on the table.
Ted was not surprised when Severus pulled out his wand and checked the document and the quill.
"A goblin contract quill?"
"Gringotts allows certain legal firms access to them," Ted explained. "The quills are assigned to specific lawyers and there's a trace on them. I will be questioned on why I used it outside of the office and outside of office hours." He didn't mention that he, personally, preferred the goblin quills because they were easier to use and far less messy than using magical ink combined with blood. Despite claims to the contrary, magical ink could be corrupted and disreputable clients had been known to try to substitute other people's blood for their own. A goblin blood quill could not be compromised that way. A goblin blood quill could even detect if the signer was under an imperious curse or other compulsions.
Severus scanned the document then handed it to Narcissa. She read it over then signed it with the quill before handing it back to Severus to sign.
Ted signed last. As he did so, the parchment and quill flashed red for a moment. The parchment was now magically 'sealed' against alteration and the quill was cleansed of any trace of the blood it had used. He made two copies of the contract for his new clients then placed the original signed contract and the quill back into his briefcase.
"And now?" Ted prompted.
"Now you get to meet someone," Narcissa said, removing the silencio. She called for Winken, who popped in. "Is Old Master able to receive visitors?"
Winken paused as if listening for a moment before speaking. "Yes, Mistress. Dobby says Old Master has eaten, is in good spirits, and is ready for visitors."
"Excellent news, Winken," Narcissa said, dismissing the house elf with a wave of her hand. She beckoned Ted and Severus to follow her out of the library and up the stairs.
She stopped at a door halfway down the hallway and knocked. The door was opened by a house elf who let them enter.
It looked to be a comfortable room with tall windows and French doors opening onto a balcony. The doors were open. An old old man in a green silk dressing gown was seated at a small table. It looked like he was just finishing dessert.
The elf inspected the now empty dish before vanishing it. Ted had the impression that the elf was as proud of the old man as a nanny elf would be of a small child finishing their hated brussels sprouts. Not that Ted had much experience with house elves but he'd heard stories.
Then the old man turned to look at his visitors. Ted was surprised at his own surprise at seeing Lucius Malfoy sitting there. The man looked ancient, but he wasn't dead.
Dobby popped in extra chairs for them then disappeared.
"He won't let me have alcohol, or caffeine," Lucius complained. "Bossy little beggar."
Narcissa gave an unladylike snort. "He was a Potter elf. Great Aunt Dorea once told me the Potter elves tended to be a bit like the little sheepdogs her husband bred. Utterly loyal and impossibly bossy. She said it was lucky Charlus had never managed to breed his little monsters with crups otherwise we'd all be taking orders from cute fluffy beasts. But the goblins also warned us when we took him in that they believed that Dobby had witnessed Riddle's attack on the Potters. They were surprised he survived the trauma. Most elves wouldn't have."
"I'd forgotten he was James' elf," Lucius admitted.
"Downstairs we were discussing systemic bigotry and injustices in the laws of magical Britain," Severus reminded them. "I admit to being at a loss at why the goblins would even adhere to a Ministry ban on telling new-to-the-magical-world who they might be related to. The Ministry has no authority to make laws directly impacting the running of Gringotts or the Goblin Nation."
"They can do things like hold up magical permits for companies the goblins are interested in," Lucius said. "Also, the Ministry can and does block permits for innovations and expansions the Nation would like to proceed with. So the Nation weighs the cost/benefits to them and agrees to the least costly demands the Ministry makes until they can figure out a way around them."
"Ah… However the ban on the goblins is only a minor issue, really," Severus added. "Any teacher at Hogwarts or any of the other schools has the right to suggest that muggleborn get their magical identity checked. Dumbledore discouraged Hogwarts teachers from doing it but I'm certain Flitwick and Sprout both mentioned it to their charges. I know I did."
"A little rebellion in the ranks?" Narcissa asked with a smile.
"I wanted my charges as well prepared as possible for Slytherin House. Letting the muggleborn know they were members of a known family helped. Better to be a half-blood heir of an assumed extinct house than an assumed muggleborn in Slytherin."
"Very true," Narcissa agreed.
"We all know the problem lies deeper than that," Lucius said. "The injustice is written into the law. And every time someone like Dolores Umbridge or Cornelius Fudge removes rights from magic users, any magic user, the more magicals leave the wizarding world. And everyone of them carries the risk of bringing the Statute of Secrecy down. And any attempt by the Ministry to stop them from leaving increases the risk exponentially. They will leave anyway and will refuse to bring their magical children back to the wizarding world. We have no idea how many weres have abandoned magical Britain to get jobs and educations in the non-magical world. We don't really know how many muggleborn and muggle-raised abandon the magical world when they discover they've been lied to about jobs and opportunities."
"On the short term, the ban may be a problem that solves itself," Ted said, thinking aloud. "Gringotts will be trying locate ignored heirs of now dead Heads of Houses and they won't care if the heir is from a disowned branch so long as the vaults are claimed and those new heirs will tell their friends to get their ancestry checked. So figure at least a couple weeks for Gringotts gets all that sorted. Maybe longer if they have to contact heirs that have left Great Britain."
"Fudge won't be able to call for an emergency session to elect new members before Gringotts finishes its work," Lucius said. "And no matter what he thinks he can do, if there's no way for there to be a quorum in the Wizengamot, he can't call an emergency session to do anything except elect new members. He also cannot simply appoint heirs to their parent's seat to make a quorum until Gringotts finishes its work. A Wizengamot member must be a Head of House."
"Are you certain there aren't enough surviving members to make a quorum?" Ted asked.
"Given the number of Wizengamot members who died today? Pretty sure," Lucius stated. "It'll be guaranteed if Madame Bones can reinstate the old fealty oath on the members. That stopped being administered during Grindelwald's time. I've never heard a good reason as to why it was dropped. But it certainly helped Riddle's plans."
"Fudge could try to appoint wives to their late husband's seats," Narcissa suggested. "Whether or not there's an heir to ensure the house doesn't go extinct he could try to claim they have authority as regents."
"Even if that wasn't illegal, it's too unpredictable," Ted said. "Not implying that women are more unpredictable than men, but we're talking about women who've just had their lives destroyed by the person who claimed to be leading their families into greatness. A person they probably hoped to whatever gods may be out there died ten years ago? Plus how many of those wives will turn out to have been abused by their husbands? Granted Fudge is an idiot, but if I were him, the last person I'd being trying to force into taking a seat and taking my side would be a new widow who knows how to throw an AK."
Narcissa glared at him.
"He's right, you know," Severus commented. "If you were in their situation, if Lucius had died and Fudge started pressuring you to support whatever dunder-headed idea he had, would Fudge leave this house alive?"
"The aurors would never find his body," Lucius said with a chuckle.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear any of that," Ted said, maybe a bit too cheerfully. "I'm also going to suggest very strongly that if Fudge or any of his minions show up here for any reason, you contact me immediately if not sooner. An AK might be too kind. I can make him wish you'd killed him and I can do it without touching a hair on his empty head."
"And you weren't sorted into Slytherin?" Severus asked.
"People don't understand Hufflepuffs," Ted said with a shrug. "Slytherins and Gryffindors have minions. Ravenclaws pretty much stand alone. Hufflepuffs collect friends and allies willing to get dirty helping them turn their enemies into compost…" He paused a moment to think. "We don't want anyone in the Ministry, or the press, to get wind of what we're actually planning while reviewing the laws. Most people would suggest a task force made up of law clerks. But I'm thinking we don't need law clerks, just people who can read and understand what they're reading."
"Like students?" Severus asked.
Ted nodded. "A summer class to introduce students to British magical government and laws. Invitation only. Limit it to squib-born and half-bloods."
"Start with Hermione Granger," a young voice said from the balcony. Draco stepped into the room. "You put a silencio on the library to keep me from hearing but not up here? And then you leave the doors open? I'm twelve and even I know better than to plan treason in front of an open window."
"I set the property wards to war footing when we came back from Gringotts," Narcissa said. "These wards have never fallen. No one can surveil us. Even Dumbledore would be hard put to get though these wards to spy on us. Had Edward been under an imperious, or someone else under a glamour or polyjuice, he would not have been allowed through the wards. It would not have ended well."
"So Draco, you recommended Miss Granger. Who else?" Ted asked.
"Any Hufflepuff. They don't seem to understand how the idea of pure-blood superiority could even be. They certainly don't believe it. I'd look at muggleborns and half-bloods in Gryffindor. I've heard pure-blood Gryffindors touting blood purity. Same thing with Ravenclaw."
"What about Slytherin?" Severus asked.
"Sir, we all know that everyone in Slytherin is either the child of pure-blood supremacists or they're too afraid to speak against it… Although I've seen the looks Millicent Bulstrode gives Pansy Parkinson when Parkinson starts mouthing off about blood superiority, even though Bulstrode gets better marks in everything and could hex Parkinson into next week if she got pissed enough."
"And what about you, my little dragon?" Narcissa asked.
"I don't know," Draco admitted. "Part of me still wants to believe I'm superior due to my ancestry. But Professor Snape was right yesterday, I'm just average. The only thing that made me special was my father's money and influence. And with Father…" Draco paused as if considering his next words. "Mother, I know you're not going to bribe and threaten people so I can get away with things like before. Crabbe and Goyle are orphans now too so there's no one to order them to be my minions. Because they weren't friends. Neither was Parkinson."
Severus sighed, glancing at the other adults. "He's right. Slytherin has not been as good for students as it could be for years. At least since Dumbledore became headmaster, maybe even before. Slughorn pretty much ignored bullying by Slytherins unless it was against one of his favorites. McGonagall did nothing to stop her lions from being bullies since the worst of them were pure-bloods. And no one on staff ever called out students for throwing their family's name and wealth around for favors and attention.
"I freely admit that when I was assigned to be head of Slytherin house, I was incapable of maintaining discipline without resorting to brutality. Dumbledore knew this and knowing what I know now, I have to believe he did that deliberately. Now the current batch of Slytherins are going to have to learn the lessons I couldn't teach them. I pity the new head of Slytherin House, who ever they may be."
"Maybe I could transfer to Durmstrang," Draco suggested hopefully.
"With the death of their headmaster, Durmstrang may not open in the fall. There are rumors that open warfare broke out among the staff, the wards fell, and the ICW had to step in," Severus said. "Beauxbatons might be an option, but you'll be a year behind in many classes since Hogwarts didn't offer them. Same with Illvermorny and Salem."
"At least at Hogwarts you'll be in the same boat as everybody else," Ted added. He looked over at the other adults. "So, what's the plan?"
Petunia had been hoping for a relatively quiet day especially after the excitement of the day before. Alas, it was not to be. Just after breakfast, a note had arrived had arrived from Mrs. Malfoy asking if Draco could spend the morning with Harry and Dudley. She apologized for the short notice.
Severus had brought Draco to the house explaining that he and Narcissa had estate matters to handle. Leaving Draco at the manor with just the elves was not an option, nor was asking any of Narcissa's friends – they were all dealing with the deaths in their own families.
Now Draco Malfoy was in the back yard trying to overcome his horror at getting his hands dirty working in the herb beds, even though he was wearing Harry's garden gloves. Draco was mumbling about the 'unfairness' that a muggle was making him work like a house elf.
"Squib," Harry corrected him with a little too much cheerfulness. "My aunt is a squib. But then, by wizard definition goblins, house elves, mer people, centaurs, and nagas would all be squibs too since they don't or can't use wands. Not sure how that's supposed to work since they can all do magic."
"And what about ancestors from before wands were invented?" Dudley asked. "Wouldn't that make all wizards descended from squibs?"
Draco just sputtered and went back to weeding. Then he sat back on his heels. "Squib and muggle only applies to humans. All the others are magical beings. They don't have magical cores and I think you need a magical core to use a wand."
The ward chime went off, indicating someone was approaching the front door. The 'monitor' in the kitchen showed that the someone was Arabella Figg from down the street. She was a harmless looking woman with grizzled fly-away hair that even a hair net couldn't quite contain.
Petunia opened the front door just as Mrs. Figg rang the door bell.
"Mrs. Figg, what an unexpected surprise."
"We need to talk," Arabella said. "I'm sure you know why."
Petunia ushered her in then led her to the back yard patio.
"Gringotts informed me that the stipend Dumbledore was sending me has been stopped," Arabella said as she sat down on one of the wrought iron patio chairs. "I'm a little surprised it lasted as long as it did."
"Why was Dumbledore paying you?"
"To spy on all of you," Arabella admitted. "To make sure nobody told Harry about magic or the truth about his parents. I ignored that part. I knew you had to know about magic. There was no way you couldn't. I was also supposed to keep a look out for wizards handing around the neighborhood. This is a muggle area so there shouldn't be any wizards hanging about unless they're up to no good."
The boys appeared only mildly interested in Mrs. Figg. She was the odd lady down the street with all the cats who occasionally babysat neighborhood kids.
"Did you ever see any wizards hanging around?" Petunia asked.
"Only ones Dumbledore sent. And the ones he sent were more likely to be casing the neighborhood than looking for other wizards."
"You do realize the money Dumbledore gave you was stolen from the Potter estate?"
"The letter I was sent indicated that. It also said they'd been able to recover the money from Dumbledore's accounts so I would not be held liable for it," Arabella said. "Dumbledore also told me that he owned the house. The letter said you owned it and I gather it should have been yours all along if Dumbledore had allowed your sister's will read when it should have been… I like the neighborhood, and would rather not move, so if we can come to an agreement on the rent…"
Petunia gave her the number Grimaxe had suggested based on the going rate in the area.
The other woman didn't flinch. "I assume you don't have a rental contract in the house, so maybe tomorrow or the next day we can get all the paperwork done?"
"Will not getting the stipend be a problem for you?"
Arabella laughed. "Oh Merlin, no. Between my widow's stipend, my cats, and my family inheritance, I have a quite comfortable income. That's something Dumbledore never quite got. He sees a squib out of a pure-blood family and assumes a poor abused soul disowned by their family with no prospects at all. My parents suspected I was a squib long before my Hogwarts letter didn't show up. They were also quite progressive. My brothers and I all went to a muggle primary school. My brothers went to Hogwarts. I went to a girls' school near London. My brothers became aurors. I joined the British Navy. Met my husband Albert there."
Arabella's expression became pensive. "When Riddle's terrorists murdered my parents and brothers, I joined Dumbledore's counter terrorist group. He claimed he had the support of the Minister of Magic but looking back, I'm not sure he was telling the truth. I do know my name was left off the official roster he gave the ministry after Riddle supposedly died. I have to assume he didn't want the Ministry to know he consorted with squibs. By the time Riddle disappeared, Albert had died in a stupid accident at one of the naval yards and Dumbledore assumed with the death of my husband I'd be easy to manage. That without a man to support me I'd be destitute, willing to do anything to get by. I let him think that."
"Is that why…?" Petunia gestured to the tartan plaid house slippers on Arabella's feet.
"Oh yes," Arabella said with a laugh. "Couldn't let the old windbag know I actually know how to pass in the muggle world. Plus they're quite comfortable. If you'd like, I can keep up the neighborhood watch for wizards with no reason to be in the neighborhood. My cats will do it anyway. They're part kneazel, but don't tell the MoM. My Figgycats are very clever. Very popular with Navy people who've met them. Albert used to take kittens to work and he never brought any back home with him."
They chatted a bit more before Arabella left. The conversation had gone differently than Petunia had expected. She'd expected one of Dumbledore's minions, someone angry at having been outed and deprived of their paycheck. Instead Arabella Figg turned out to be aware of Dumbledore's duplicity and hypocrisy, and a possible ally.
The mail notice chimed, indicating an owl mail had been redirected from Gringotts. It was addressed to Harry. The return address was 'Sharkey and Associates, Solicitors'. Petunia called Harry into the house. Dudley and Draco followed on his heels.
"My Uncle Edward works for them," Draco told Harry on seeing the envelope. "I told you you'd be getting a letter from him."
Harry opened the envelope and read the letter inside before handing it to Petunia. It was an invitation to an introductory class on British wizarding government and laws for squib-born and muggle-raised Hogwarts students. The instructor was listed as Edward Tonks, a solicitor at Sharkey and Associates. The class was going to be free thanks to an anonymous donation. Class was scheduled to be held on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons for at least four weeks. The location had yet to be determined.
Harry and Dudley's self defense class was scheduled for Tuesdays and Thursdays.
"The classes shouldn't conflict with your self defense class," Petunia said. "And he wants your decision soonest. But before we decide on this…" She turned to Draco. "I know what this says the class is about. But what is it really about?"
Draco looked surprised at the question. Then: "Before my father's death, he expressed regrets at falling for Riddle's lies. And after his mind was cleared of Dumbledore's mind magics, he realized that it wasn't just Riddle's lies and Grindelwald's lies, but lies going back to before the creation of the list of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. And those lies were that pure-blood magic is different and superior to muggleborn magic and those with the strongest magic should have rights over those with lesser. My parents and godfather came to the conclusion that these lies were destroying our society and putting us all at risk and any law or regulation that promotes those lies should be considered treasonous because it increases the risk of our destruction. Every squib forced out, every muggleborn and were who walks away from magical Britain, increases the chances of our discovery and destruction.
"My family has bred animals for generations, horses, dogs, birds. Mundane and magical. We know about traits and inheritance of traits. We know that what the ministry wants everybody to believe about blood purity are lies. My grandfather did research on the inheritance of magical cores. But since he was just an animal breeder, he was laughed at when he tried to present his findings."
"The goblins told us that every single magical human is descended from one prehistoric magical human," Harry said. "They even know the name of the first one."
Draco nodded. "Grandfather's journals indicated he thought she might have been half Seelie Fae or she was one of their experiments. Apparently Grandfather had long talks with the goblin Keeper of Records. He wrote that they thought the Sidhe were trying to breed another slave race but they lost control of humans. But they might have been wrong about what the Sidhe were up to."
"But they might have been right," Petunia said. "I gather your mother, and I assume Master Snape, believe we should take advantage of all the confusion in the ministry to clear out as many discriminatory laws that can be identified while they're still running around like chickens with a fox after them? And someone suggested using Hogwarts students to do the work because the ministry won't look at a remedial class as being subversive and going after the kids of already angry parents is political suicide."
"Exactly," Draco said. Draco gave her an odd look. "My godfather said you would have been sorted into Slytherin. At least Slytherin as it should have been, clever, ambitious, independent, and thoughtful."
Petunia grinned at him then turned to her nephew. "Harry, why don't you write back to Mr. Tonks agreeing to join his class. Ask if Dudley can join you."
Severus came to pick up Draco after lunch. It was hard for him to read Draco's mood. The boy was excited about having delivery pizza, wasn't sure about muggle fizzy drink or tossed salad. But he was also miffed about weeding the garden alongside Harry and Dudley. But then Draco had complained about Professor Sprout's herbology classes in the green houses. First year students were usually set to weeding the beds and pots containing non-dangerous plants. Pomona felt that hands on experience with plants was best and a little dirt was essential for a child's well being.
Severus had never argued against her opinion, not as a student, nor as an instructor. Plus he was fairly certain there were bodies buried in the more dangerous green houses, not that he would ever suggest investigating his suspicions. For all that she looked a gentle grandmother, Pomona Sprout was more than capable of turning enemies into plant food.
"I told Madame Evans about Grandfather's research and journals," Draco told him. "She also asked about the real purpose of the class."
"And?" Severus prompted.
"She said the Ministry wouldn't realize the class was subversive until it was too late and had Harry ask if Dudley could join the class too."
"Interesting. I was told Miss Bulstrode's mother said much the same thing. As did Mister Longbottom's grandmother. Before they agreed to allow their charges to attend."
"Longbottom is a pure-blood," Draco protested.
"So are you. Miss Granger recommended he be asked and I agreed with her assessment. The Longbottoms are not known to be blood purists but they've always been successful enough and honorable enough to not be considered blood traitors. But neither have they ever allowed blood status considerations affect their business decisions. It is not well known, but the Longbottom farm managers tend to be muggleborn. The Longbottoms hire people for their knowledge, skills, and work ethic, not for their blood status. It's been a very successful strategy. The Longbottom farms are known to grow some of the finest potions ingredients in the world."
Severus didn't bother to tell Draco that Abraxas Malfoy had taken the same stance in his own hiring practices. When Lucius took over and 'purified' the companies he controlled on Riddle's 'recommendations', Malfoy vaults suffered badly. Severus was fairly certain Arcturus Black, late head of the House of Black, had taken a neutral stance on hiring muggleborns even though the breeding practices within the House of Black should be taken by pure-blood families as a case study in what not to do. Severus was more than a little surprised the House of Black hadn't squibbed out.
He also didn't mention his own observation that it was rare for pure blood children of even the poorer families to do more than what was needed to get a job at the ministry or work at whatever business their family was involved in. The Weasleys were one exception but then, with all those children, every one of them had to work hard to stand out from the crowd of siblings.
Augusta Longbottom took a cleansing breath as she prepared to take her grandson to Ollivander's for a new wand. His old one, his father's wand, was in the Healer Hall at Gringotts.
Yesterday had brought about a storm of changes. Her son Frank and his wife Alice had woken up not long after the Lestranges died in Azkaban. But the healers at 's who were supposedly tending to them hadn't bothered to contact her on their change of status. Whimsy, Frank's personal house elf, was the one who told Augusta that her son and daughter-in-law were conscious after ten years.
Augusta had arrived at St. Mungo's to discover that the 'healers' were attempting to dose him with over-powered dreamless sleep potions. He was screaming from the pain of broken bones – bones the healers had broken while tying him to the bed. She ordered the healers out of the room at wand point then had Whimsy pop Frank and Alice to Gringotts Healer Bay. She knew it was an imposition on her part, but she also knew that the Longbottoms and the Goblin Nation had a good working relationship going back generations. She secured the room doors from the inside then apparated to Diagon Alley.
To say that Healer Silverknife had been furious was a profound understatement. But he had been furious at the damage the human healers had done, not at Augusta for sending her son and daughter-in-law to him.
"We have healed the most recent bone breaks but their bones are incredibly fragile at this time," Silverknife told her. "We are using goblin magic to support their body functions and render them deeply unconscious as their bodies overcome calming draught addiction and as we attempt to counter the physical damage that has occurred from being bed bound for so long. We saw no evidence of any attempt to counter the physical damage that occurred due to the negligence that took place."
"You're saying the healers neglected them," August said, attempting to quash the bubble of fury she felt growing inside her.
"Yes. I cannot speak to why they were neglected. Nor can I even guess as to why, apparently, no attempt was made to properly diagnose their condition," Silverknife stated.
"They were driven insane by the Lestranges using the cruciatus curse," Augusta told him. "Everyone knows that."
"The cruciatus does not work that way and the human healers know that," Silverknife said. His expression was thunderous. "The curse triggers the pain receptors in the body. Depending on the strength of the caster and how long the curse is sustained, the end result varies from recoverable nerve damage to failure of the autonomic nervous system due to exhaustion and shock and then death. Since the brain is not damaged by the curse, psychosis would not be an expected result."
"They were both trained occlumens," Augusta told him.
"That would make them more resistant to torture, not less. And a psychotic break would have shattered their mental defenses and left their minds open to a mind healer. As near as I can tell, no mind healer was ever called to evaluate their condition."
"So what do you think happened to them?"
"I believe, based on my experience and the tests we have run, that had they been properly treated upon their arrival at St. Mungo's, they would have been home within a week after being treated for cruciatus related nerve damage. A mind healer would have been recommended to help them process the mental trauma. But to answer your question, I believe that they were placed under an imperious curse shortly after their arrival at St. Mungo's. If so, that curse was broken on the death of the caster."
"How long until you know if your people can help them?"
"Madame Longbottom, we have already helped them, as have you," Silverknife said. His tone was surprisingly gentle. "A few days will tell us how much more we can help them."
Augusta mentally shook herself from her memories of the day before. Today she had to get her grandson a new wand. One fitted to who he really was and not who she wanted him to be.
Ollivander was courteous enough to not mention how stupid and insensitive she'd been by insisting Neville use a wand that wasn't suited to him and probably was still loyal to its original owner.
Neville's new wand was cherry with unicorn hair. Neville was nearly crying with joy when the wand responded to him, filling the shop with rainbow sparks. Frank's wand in Neville's hand had barely reacted to the boy at all.
"He will need to practice not over powering his spells," Ollivander warned Augusta as he handed Neville a wand holster and wand maintenance kit. Augusta had splurged a bit. She didn't often do that since the Longbottom's vaults had taken a hit over the past ten years paying for Frank and Alice's care at St. Mungo's. The DMLE had refused to take responsibility for paying for their care, claiming that Frank and Alice had been off-duty at the time of the attack. But they'd been attacked for being aurors who had successfully fought against Death Eaters.
At least the farms had been doing okay. But they were doing nowhere near as well as they could be. Discriminatory laws made hiring good people difficult. Not to mention Hogwarts' failure at graduating students with any competency with potions for the past eight years.
Augusta knew the DMLE and St. Mungo's had the same problem with finding enough competent potioneers to fill all the needed positions. Luckily the Longbottoms had older employees who were potions masters, but the need for them to do remedial training for new hires out of Hogwarts came at the cost of both time and money. Time and money that could have spent expanding and improving the farms, but wasn't.
Hiring people from overseas wasn't a great solution either. Most English speaking magicals from overseas didn't want to move to Great Britain and those few that might be interested would need to have their relocation costs covered, assuming the Ministry didn't block their permission to work in magical Britain due to the 'taint' of not being pure blood British.
Ministry policies over the past fifty years or more was destroying magical Britain. Make that more than a hundred years of destructive laws and policies according to Law Wizard Tonks.
But if she believed Tonks, all that might change sooner than anyone could have hoped for. Augusta was just worried that the changes might well tear their society apart at the seams.
Petunia, Harry, and Dudley portkeyed into the gated area near Gringotts then entered the bank to use their floo to go to Longbottom Manor. Petunia hated calling through the floo network. Having one's behind in the air so you could talk through the flames was simply humiliating and left the users in vulnerable positions. But it showed how illogical wand-wavers were. She was sure better ways of magical communication and transportation had been invented but wand-wavers refused to use them.
Augusta Longbottom welcomed them through to the entrance hall to the Manor. Petunia had just gotten engaged to Vernon the last time she'd visited Longbottom Manor to pick up her mother's order of potion botanicals. Ambrose Longbottom, Augusta's husband, had still been alive. He'd been a charming man. It was a shame he'd died so young.
The manor seemed more worn and dull than she remembered. Like grief had washed the brightness away.
Augusta led them to the sunroom at the back of the manor. It looked out on the back gardens and green houses with wide doors leading out to a stone paved patio. The gardens and lawns were not as well kept as Petunia remembered.
Tea had been set up in the sunroom. The adult conversation about almost nothing was amiable. The three boys had their own conversation going with Neville and Harry explaining quidditch to Dudley who actually had the courtesy to avoid calling the two younger boys insane.
Augusta sent the boys off to the back gardens with a wave of her hand.
"What do you think of Mister Tonks proposal?" Augusta asked.
"I think that our children need to know how the government works, or at least how it's supposed to work," Petunia said carefully. "I gather Dumbledore didn't believe that civics and economics were things wand-wavers needed to know so he didn't allow them to be taught. But unless you know what government is supposed to do, how it's supposed to work, what the norms are, how will you be able to tell if it's doing it or not?"
"But is now the time to make changes?"
"I think that now is the best time to act on bettering the magical government, given how corrupt recent events have shown it to be," Petunia said. "Right now the ministry is in disarray. I've only met Fudge once and I wasn't impressed, but right now the man has the opportunity to prove he isn't a corrupt moron and a coward by getting rid of traitors and incompetents. He has the opportunity to streamline the Ministry, organize it better, make it more responsive to real threats, not imaginary ones."
"I'm not sure he's smart enough to do any of that."
"I'm sure his…"
Petunia was interrupted by shouting from the entrance hall. A man shouting, almost incoherent, possibly drunk. Her gut clenched in fear. Whoever it was sounded like Vernon when he'd come home drunk. He hadn't done it often, but he'd done it enough that she'd learned to dread it.
"They fired me!" the man shouted coming into the sunroom. "Those bastards fired me!"
"Who fired you and why would they do that, Algernon?" Augusta asked with preternatural calmness. Petunia noted that Augusta had her wand in her hand.
"I refused to take the oaths that trumped up bitch of a mudblood law witch of Fudge's made up. I'm an unspeakable! I'm a pure-blood and I don't have to take their damn oaths about what I do. My research says what I say it does."
"Is there a reason Fudge and Croaker want unspeakables to report the truth concerning their research?" Augusta asked. "Could it be that they don't trust that everything being reported is based in fact?"
"Who told you that?"
"You just did," Augusta told him frostily. "If you refuse to take a magical oath to report the true results of your research, then you must be making false reports."
Algernon suddenly stopped and glared at Augusta. "You and Ambrose always did favor mudbloods over your own kind. Maybe that's why Neville is practically a squib."
Augusta's cold expression didn't change. "Or maybe someone bound his core while Frank and Alice were being admitted to St. Mungo's. You and Enid were taking care of him while I was busy that night. Did Dumbledore visit you to check up on Neville?"
"What does that crazy old bastard have to do with anything?"
"You didn't answer the question."
"No, he didn't." Suddenly Algernon had his wand in his hand. "Cr..."
Augusta was faster. Her brother-in-law was unconscious and bound on the floor almost before Petunia realized there was a real threat. "It's nice to know I haven't lost anything with age," Augusta commented. She called an elf to her and gave orders that Algernon was not to be released without her permission then headed to the floo.
A few moments later Petunia heard people coming through the floo. Two men in long brown coats with auror badges clipped on the collars followed Augusta into the sunroom.
"My brother-in-law came in yelling about losing his job at the Ministry and used foul language while making wild accusations. He then pulled his wand and started to cast a crucio but I was faster," Augusta explained, pointing to Algernon on the floor.
The taller of the two men sighed. "We've had a lot of these instances today, ma'am. Minister Fudge, Head Unspeakable Croaker, and Madame Bones have reinstated the old government civil service oaths, starting with the DMLE and DoM. A lot of people are upset at being asked to take oaths to uphold the law and do what's right even after being forced to be cleansed of mind magics."
The shorter one spoke. "If you would allow us to copy your memories of the incident?"
Both Augusta and Petunia agreed. It was an odd experience, having a memory copied rather than simply giving a statement of what occurred. Petunia assumed the magical way was more efficient, but she wasn't so naive as to assume that people like Dumbledore couldn't manipulate the process and give memories that were lies.
"We'll dump him in a holding cell and let him dry out," the shorter one said when he was done collecting the memories. "Assuming these memories corroborate your statements, we can press charges, although it may be a while before we can get to a trial. The ministry's a mess right now."
"When he's sober, let him know he won't have unrestricted access to the Longbottom farms or any of the Longbottom properties aside from the one my husband gifted him, nor will he have unrestricted access to the Longbottom vaults. I can't prove he put a second binding on my grandson's core, but he is the most likely suspect."
"I gather you don't want an investigation started just now on the possible attack on your grandson?" the taller one asked.
"I doubt he would be so foolish as to confess to doing it," Augusta said. "But should he be so foolish, then please let me know so charges can be brought."
The two aurors put magic suppressing cuffs on their prisoner, woke him up, pulled him to his feet, and marched him to the floo. They cast a silencing charm on him when he started screaming and swearing at them.
"I suspect I know why Dumbledore bound Harry's core and my core," Petunia said quietly. "But why would your brother-in-law do that to your grandson?"
"Neville is the Longbottom heir. Should he die, Algernon believes he would become the heir and could petition to become head of the house Longbottom since my son is incapacitated," Augusta said, keeping an eye on the boys outside. "By handicapping Neville's magic, Neville would be easier to 'accidentally' kill. A friend suggested I get cleansed of mind magics. After I did so, I realized that Algernon's attempts to 'force' Neville into doing accidental magic to save himself were most likely attempts to kill him.
"I need a few minutes to take care of a few things," Augusta added before leaving the sunroom.
A few moments later Petunia felt the wards shift. The three boys came running in followed by a man with graying hair, wearing muggle work clothes.
The man looked around the room as if checking it out. "Algernon's gone?" he asked.
Petunia nodded. "Aurors came and took him away."
The man seemed unsurprised. "Mimsy came and got me when he showed up. She was a little concerned about the boys. I'm Thomas Mayweather, by the way. I manage the farms. You're Tuney Evans, aren't you?"
At her nod he continued. "I remember you coming over to pick up your mum's orders. Mister Longbottom senior liked you and your mum."
"I was quite sad when I heard he'd died. Dragon pox, wasn't it?" Petunia asked.
"That's the official cause of death," Thomas said. He glanced meaningfully at Neville. "Mister Longbottom, I'm sure Mimsy has some treats for you and your friends in the kitchen."
The three boys ran out of the room to look for Mimsy.
"I felt the wards shift," he said.
"I think Mister Algernon Longbottom will have some unpleasant surprises when he sobers up," Petunia told him. "You said 'official' cause?"
"I've found it curious that so many new Hogwarts graduates became heads of their houses that year. All within a few weeks of each other. A new variant of dragon pox that never became a true epidemic. It just struck, seemingly at random, all over the country, with little or no contact between the victims. No reported deaths overseas. And no reported deaths from that variant since. No mysterious disease deaths reported on the other side either even though squibs should have been susceptible." He noticed her curious look. "I have to keep tabs on what's happening on the other side. Our crops and food animals are not immune to mundane diseases and there's no guarantee our treatments are any better than theirs."
Augusta returned. Based on her expression, Petunia surmised that someone was going to be fed to a dragon if Augusta got her hands on them.
"Algernon tried to convince Scrimgeour and Croaker that I murdered Frank and Alice yesterday, since they're no longer at St. Mungo's," Augusta spat. "I'm sure Healer Silverknife is giving them both earfuls about patient treatment at that place."
"Oh?" Thomas asked.
"They woke up yesterday, a little after all the death eaters died," Augusta said. "St. Mungo's didn't bother to let me know. I only found out after Whimsy had a 'feeling' about Frank and went to check on him. I won't tell you what I saw when I arrived but it was not good. I had Whimsy take them to the goblin healers. The goblins may not like wizards, but they like our money and their healers are above reproach. Healer Silverknife is confident Frank and Alice will be home within a week, no thanks to the people who were allegedly caring for them."
"Having them here will save a lot of money," Thomas said. "Even if you have to get extra elves to help."
"You never did agree with Algernon about leaving them in the Thickey ward," Augusta observed.
"Wasn't my place to give advice on that," Thomas said. "I'm just a hired farm manager."
"You're the best Merlin be damned farm manager in magical Britain," Augusta proclaimed. "The Wizengamot is going to need a lot of new members. And since Algernon was complaining about oaths, I rather suspect the surviving Wizengamot members will be required to be vetted according to the old rules and take the old oaths. We may not have many members at all after that's all sorted. So, would you object if your name was put forward? I believe you qualify."
"Is the Wizengamot ready for a muggle-raised Wizengamot member?" Thomas said with a chuckle.
"A muggle-raised traditionalist will scare the pants off of them," Augusta retorted. "But I think that's what they need."
"What's a traditionalist?" a young voice asked from the doorway. It was Harry.
"A traditionalist is someone who understands, and follows as best they can, the old ways," Petunia answered. "The sabbats and feast days, group magic and rituals, following the circle of the year, striving to be one with the spirit of Earth, with the natural world."
"Dumbledore equated the old ways with pure blood supremacy and primitive, archaic, beliefs and so banned the group magic and rituals from being taught," Augusta added. "But he couldn't stop the old families from staying true to their roots and teaching it to others, including muggle-raised. We just never bother to let Dumbledore know about it."
"And don't forget that some muggles celebrate the sabbats as well," Petunia reminded them. "In fact, in some cases the rituals are so similar I wonder if squibs and muggleborns passed on what they remembered of old rituals and the old beliefs."
"So if a traditionalist is someone who learns and follows the old ways, then what's the word for what Dumbledore is?" Harry asked.
"Manipulative git?" Thomas suggested. "Individualist? Rabid wand-waver? You see, group magic doesn't require a wand but it does require letting yourself become one with the group and letting Magic take the lead. Your magic joins to become greater than the individual and it can do things that would be impossible for a single practitioner. Hogwarts was not built by four individuals working separately. It was build by four people who were able to join their magic together and joined with many others to do the work that was needed. Many people working as one. Power we now can hardly conceive of.
"Dumbledore is incapable of surrendering himself to the group and sees the single wizard as being paramount. In that view all magic should be wand-based and personally powered. And the strongest wizard should be the one to be dictator. He can't see what has been lost with denigrating everything else. Women's magic is anathema to him. The magic of elves and goblins are anathema to him. He would destroy them if he could. They have power he can't understand and can't control."
"In the last two wars, Dumbledore sent his followers to their deaths or worse and then claimed it his sacrifice for the 'greater good'," Augusta said angrily. "But sacrifice means 'to make sacred'. He holds nothing sacred."
"Did Riddle?" Harry asked. "Did he hold anything sacred? Did he believe in preserving the old ways?"
"There's no evidence that he did," Augusta said softly. "He was a muggle-raised taught by Dumbledore. Who would have taught him the old ways? Dumbledore wouldn't have."
"I know the Department of Education is rolling out new programs to help solve some of the issues with incoming muggle-raised," Thomas said. "Introduction on the first sign of accidental magic, better introductory materials, classes for families, early classes for the children, emergency contact lists."
"What about magical parents who abuse or neglect their kids?" Neville asked. "There are kids at Hogwarts who are, or were, afraid to go home for the hols. And I'm pretty sure there are some who can't even read or write."
"Most older families home school their children," Augusta said. "So I'm not surprised if some of them fail to teach their children what they need to know to do well at school."
"Then that's something the Department of Education needs to address. I read once that teaching was a subversive act since teachers teach students how to read and give students a common frame of reference," Petunia said. "And a child who can read may be able to learn to think for themselves, and may learn that much of what they've been told are lies. Teaching the truth may be the most subversive act of all."