Chapter 24
Albus watched as the six men filed into his office.
They'd woken him at the crack of dawn to tell him of their displeasure regarding the ongoing duelling club that Harry Jameson was overseeing, and they felt the need to have the conversation in person rather than via the floo or submitting a letter to himself or the governors.
Well, one of them was a governor, and it begged the question of why Abraxas Malfoy had not raised it in their last meeting.
Albus had his suspicions as to why, but it was not something the man would likely express to the other governors.
"What is it I can do for you, gentlemen?" the headmaster asked patiently.
"This pertains to the duelling club that a former Professor Jameson is in charge of," Corvus Lestrange spoke up.
"Lord Malfoy did inform me of that," Albus pointed out.
Lestrange scowled but said nothing as Abraxas cleared his throat.
"Yes, you see, Headmaster, the club has been brought to our attention, and we have our concerns," he explained. "This Jameson does not appear to have any accolades in the duelling community to warrant his leadership of the club. Now, if it were Filius Flitwick in charge, we would not have our reservations."
"I see," Albus replied, fighting the urge to sigh. "Well, I can assure you that Mr Jameson is exceptionally qualified to teach a duelling club. In the year he taught here, his performance was underlined by the most successful OWL and NEWT results in Defence Against the Dark Arts in many years."
"That does not qualify him to teach duelling," Lord Nott interjected irritably. "All of us have spent considerable sums of gold to have our children instructed in the art, and we will not have it squandered by an amateur running a foolish club."
Albus leaned back in his seat, his patience with his guests wearing thin.
"Perhaps we should meet the man," Arcturus Black suggested.
Albus had wondered why the man had been so quiet.
He'd undoubtedly heard of what had happened to Bellatrix when she'd foolishly challenged Harry, and though he'd not hurt the girl, he'd certainly taught her some humility.
"I'm sure Mr Jameson would be pleased to meet with you," Albus replied. "If you bear with me, I shall see if he is available."
(Break)
Harry scowled at the sheet of parchment he was reading and took a sip of his coffee as he tried to make sense of the mess that had been, at best, a lazy investigation into what had happened to Amelia's parents.
They had arrived in Belgium and had been found dead in Poland a little under two weeks later.
What Harry was trying to do was piece together what had occurred in the interim and after the fact. The former would be difficult, and the latter, as Ghost had warned, would be dangerous.
Nonetheless, he wouldn't be deterred.
It had quickly become clear that both the Belgian and Polish Departments of Magical Law Enforcement had each begun a thorough investigation, which had lasted less than a day each before they suddenly ceased.
Corruption.
To Harry, that only meant that someone had put a stop to them, and both Ministries had deemed the deaths as 'unexplained circumstances'. Only someone or a group with significant power and influence could interfere in either ministry to such a degree.
At best, the investigation was negligible, but Harry already knew better. The Aurors of each country may have made their own determination or that of those who willed it; the coroner, however, a Frenchman, had catalogued the injuries each had sustained, along with the present residual magic he'd detected.
There was no doubt in Harry's mind that the Bones had been tortured using both magic and muggle means, though he truly could not fathom why.
He'd already looked into both, and neither, as far as he could tell, had been involved in anything nefarious.
If, however, they were, they'd done an exceptional job of covering it up.
He took another sip of his coffee as he placed the sheet of parchment back in the file.
This would take considerable time to make any progress on.
Harry knew that he would find few, or more likely none, willing to speak of what was within the file, and though he expected to face resistance and perhaps mortal danger should those who wished to cover up what had happened were to hear of it, he would not be deterred.
Even if he had to utilise the most underhand tricks he'd learned along the way, he would find the truth, and if the ICW did not wish to punish those responsible, then so be it.
He rubbed his eyes tiredly.
For the better part of two days, he'd been diligently studying each letter of every word the file contained.
His findings were troubling, to say the least, but someone knew what had happened to Mr and Mrs Bones, and one way or another, when Harry found them, they would talk.
Frowning as he heard the floo chime from the entrance hall above, he carefully placed the file back in the trunk containing his most precious of objects and made his way upstairs.
"Headmaster," he greeted the man as he accepted the call. "What can I do for you?"
Albus released a deep sigh.
"It appears that your duelling club has caused quite a stir amongst some of the parents. Would you kindly come through so that we may assuage their concerns?"
"Of course," Harry replied. "I shall be there in ten minutes. I am dealing with a rather pressing matter," he added, holding his coffee cup aloft.
He did not miss the look of amusement of the headmaster before he vanished, and Harry shook his head.
He didn't need to guess the type of people waiting for him, which only made him make them wait longer.
Perhaps it was petty, but he wasn't at anyone's beck and call, and he certainly wasn't going to waste a perfectly good cup of coffee for the sake of people who were only going to irritate him.
He finished it five minutes later and took another five before stepping through the fireplace into Dumbledore's office.
"You!" an angry and shocked voice greeted him.
"Ah, Mr Yaxley," Harry replied as though acknowledging an old acquaintance. "How are you this morning?"
It amused him to see the man's left eye twitching in irritation, but he chose to say nothing else.
"Okay, I'm here, Albus. You mentioned these gentlemen had concerns about the duelling club and me running it."
"Indeed," the headmaster confirmed. "It appears that there are some reservations."
Harry's gaze swept across the gathered group, and he shook his head.
"Well, if you tell me the name of the students you are the parents or carers of, I can assure you they will no longer attend. Let's start with you," he urged, nodding to a man he recognised but couldn't acknowledge such.
"Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange," the man grunted.
Harry nodded.
"You?"
"Theodore Nott."
Harry hummed as he looked towards the next man.
"Albert Montague."
"I have a hippogriff named Albert," Harry retorted. "And you?" he added to the next, ignoring the glare of Montague.
"Lucius Malfoy."
"And finally?"
"Bellatrix Black," Arcturus Black answered with a glint of amusement in his eye.
"Ah, she is very talented," Harry offered sincerely. "As for the rest of you, your children do not attend the duelling club, so I see no reason for you to be here, but if you really have an issue with me running it, you're all welcome to join us this evening and offer your expertise. I'm sure the students will value the input from men of such esteem."
None of them said anything for a moment until the Malfoy cleared his throat.
"We are merely wondering what qualifies you to run such a club."
"I think we should allow Mr Yaxley to answer that query," Harry suggested.
The man narrowed his eyes, choosing not to.
"You're the restaurant owner," Arcturus Black interjected in realisation. "You own the place in Knockturn Alley."
"I do, Lord Black. My staff always speak very highly of you and your Lady wife."
"And now you run a duelling club at the school?"
"Amongst other things," Harry answered. "I taught Defence Against the Dark Arts here a couple of years ago."
Arcturus Black nodded.
"Bellatrix speaks highly of you. I think I will accept your invitation for this evening," he declared as he stood. "Perhaps the rest of you should consider encouraging your children to attend. Bellatrix knows a good duellist when she sees one, and she has offered nothing but praise for Mr Jameson."
"Then why did you come?" Harry asked confusedly.
"Curiosity," Arcturus answered. "I shall see you this evening, Mr Jameson."
He left the office, and the five remaining men, save for Malfoy, appeared to be lost and somewhat confused.
"If there is nothing else, I will be returning home," Harry declared. "Gentlemen, perhaps I will see all of you this evening?"
They said nothing as they followed Arcturus, and Harry cursed under his breath.
"Gits," he muttered.
"Well, I must say, Harry, that you handled that rather admirably. I do get the sense, however, that there is some animosity between yourself and Lord Yaxley."
Harry snorted in response.
"His nephew made a show of himself in the restaurant, and Lord Yaxley didn't take kindly to me embarrassing him. He took it upon himself to attempt to intimidate me, and I threw him out on his arse."
"Ah, Alastor did mention something of that nature," Albus replied, "and you do have my apologies for asking you here. I'm afraid they wouldn't have left unless they spoke with you or I agreed to halt the running of the duelling club."
Harry waved the man's apology away.
Dealing with the group had been rather amusing.
"You get used to dealing with idiots," Harry sighed.
Albus chuckled.
"Indeed," he sighed. "Might I enquire as to how your meeting with our mutual acquaintance went?"
"You can enquire, but I'm sure you already know I can't say much, but I can tell you that we both got something we wanted out of it."
Albus nodded his understanding.
"Then I am truly pleased for you, Harry. I am certain you will be quite the asset to anything he has asked of you."
"That remains to be seen," Harry replied. "Anyway, I will leave for now. Will you be attending the meeting this evening?"
"I do believe it would be for the best," Albus answered.
"I will see you then, Headmaster."
With that, Harry threw a handful of floo powder into the fireplace and returned home.
He couldn't be bothered to deal with whatever political game Malfoy and the others were playing, but he'd learned long ago that politics had a way of interfering with everything, even in something as simple as an extracurricular activity such as the duelling club.
Harry shook his head irritably.
As much as he tried to do the right thing whilst avoiding being drawn into things he wanted no part of, it truly seemed that the universe had other ideas.
He'd sooner have no interaction with the toxic pureblood community in Britain, though he couldn't deny that making some connections could prove to be useful in the future.
He wasn't sure how, but the purebloods held the most powerful of offices, save for the current Minister, who Harry already knew would prove to be ineffective.
Nobby Leach was not favoured amongst the purebloods for his sympathetic treatment of muggleborns, and his term in office would culminate with the impending war.
He would retire and be replaced by the timid Millicent Bagnold, and things would only get worse as she attempted to appease the Death Eaters and Voldemort.
Her efforts would be for nothing, and the killing would continue.
Harry released a deep sigh.
He still did not wish to involve himself, but if he wished to prevent certain events from coming to pass in the years to come, he knew that his best option was to be in a position of influence, and that could only be achieved by rubbing shoulders with the influential.
He cursed his own trail of thought as he prepared his breakfast and himself once more as he began planning ahead for the inevitable eventuality.
Voldemort wouldn't be stopped so easily, and already, his influence was strong in Britain even if his presence wasn't.
When he'd placed his plate on the table, Harry found that his appetite was gone, and he opted for another cup of coffee instead, doing his utmost to ignore the seemingly unavoidable path that lay ahead of him.
(Break)
"The day off done you some good, lass," Alastor commented as Amelia entered the office.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.
He shrugged in response.
"Just that you seem rested."
Amelia hummed as she frowned at the man, who merely grinned at her.
"Moody, Bones, my office," Grimm called.
"Saved by the call of duty," Alastor chuckled as he passed her. "Come, Bones, you heard the man."
She entered the office a few paces behind and found Grimm sitting behind his desk, finishing up some paperwork.
"Shut the door," he instructed.
"Has something happened?" Alastor asked.
Grimm nodded but continued to write.
When he was done, he placed his quill in a holder and scratched his bald head.
"I'm afraid it's time to split the pair of you up," he informed them. "I have two rookies starting today and no one to babysit them. You've been here long enough now to mentor someone, Bones."
Amelia nodded her understanding.
Both she and Alastor knew this day would come, and it should've happened almost two years prior.
"Moody, I'm giving you Shacklebolt," Grimm decided, handing Alastor a sheet of parchment. "As you can see, he's got a lot of potential, but he's as young and naïve as any other of you idiots that first put on that uniform. Show him the ropes and keep his nose clean. You know the drill."
"Aye," Moody replied.
"Bones, you get Yaxley," Grimm informed her, offering a similar sheet of parchment. "Her uncle might be an insufferable tosser, but I'm sure you can handle her. With the damned protests and everything else that's happened, I don't want whatever bullshit going out there to make its way into this office. Got it?"
Amelia nodded.
"Good, now bugger off," Grimm huffed.
"Still having problems with the mother-in-law?" Alastor asked with a grin.
Grimm swore under his breath.
"She's become a permanent fixture in my house, Moody," he huffed. "She plonked her fat arse on my favourite chair and will be there until her still-warm corpse is peeled off it. She eats like a damned pig and lives like one. It's a fight to get the old cow to have a wash."
Alastor chuckled amusedly.
"Well, she's in her twilight years, isn't she?"
"She's one hundred and four, Moody. The stubborn old troll will do her best to outlive me out of spite, and she just might manage it. It doesn't help that the wife is looking more like her with each passing year. Two peas in a bloody pod. Go on, let me revel in my own misery."
"it could be worse, sir," Alastor pointed out. "You could always be retired."
Grimm paled, and his eyes widened in horror.
"That's right, get nasty, why don't you," he snapped.
Alastor laughed as he left the office, and Amelia followed, leaving the horrified Grimm alone with his thoughts.
"Ah, we had a good run of it, lass."
"We did," Amelia agreed. "It will be strange working with someone else."
"Aye, but we are still on the same team. It's not as though it's a goodbye, and you know where I am if you need me."
Amelia nodded.
"You too."
Alastor offered her a smile and salute before heading towards his own office, where his new partner would be instructed to meet him.
Amelia did the same and checked no paperwork had been left on her desk during her absence.
Much to her relief, there was none, and she waited for her own rookie to arrive.
The woman who knocked on her door only a few moments later was of a height and build similar to Amelia's, though her hair was dark brown and matched her eyes.
She had the classic bone structure of a pureblood and carried herself as such, at her fullest and with confidence.
"Come in," Amelia called, and she entered.
"Auror Bones, I'm Cadence Yaxley. I was told to report to you."
Amelia nodded and gestured for the woman to take a seat.
"I apologise if I seem a little all over the place. I've only just been told that I'd be having a mentor," Amelia explained. "Well, as far as I'm aware, you will be spending the next two to three years working with me until you are deemed ready for independent work. Was that already explained to you?"
Yaxley nodded.
"Auror Grimm filled me in on the details. He told me to shut up, listen, and do as I'm instructed."
"That about sums it up in his own charming way," Amelia sighed. "We are both Aurors, so your work is just as important and valued as mine when we are out there. The most important thing we can have is complete trust in one another. It's not an easy job, and we will be relying on each other. I'd rather not have your death on my conscience because you didn't listen or lose my life when it could have been avoided. Do you understand?"
Yaxley nodded.
"I might seem like I'm being harsh at times, but it's better that I point out any mistakes than you have to learn from them the hard way."
"I understand," Yaxley assured her.
"Good," Amelia replied. "What made you want to be an Auror?"
"I wanted to do something worthwhile," Yaxley answered. "As I'm sure you're aware, my prospects growing up were that I would go to school, be married off, and have children. I always wanted more than that. Besides, being an Auror puts off most pureblood men, so it works as an added incentive," she added with a grin.
"True," Amelia conceded. "Well, fortunately for you, we don't have any paperwork to get through this morning, so we will be going straight out on patrol. It should be a fairly nice first day for you. We are in Hogsmeade. We don't get much trouble there."
(Break)
"Was that really so difficult?" Harry asked the glaring hippogriff.
Albert pawed at the ground, and Harry chuckled amusedly.
It had taken so long for the large male to accept Harry's presence amongst the herd, but it finally seemed that his persistence had paid off. Albert had no qualms in bowing to Amelia shortly after they'd arrived, but he'd been so resistant to Harry.
Maybe it was because he was male and the hippogriff was asserting himself over the others. Regardless, having come to Harry with a large thorn in his wing, he'd offered a reluctant bow once it had been removed.
"What do you say, boy, shall we go for a little fly?"
Albert pawed the ground once more before crouching down low enough for Harry to climb on his back.
Upon doing so, the hippogriff charged forward without warning and took to the air with a few powerful flaps of his wings.
"Bloody hell," Harry cursed, clinging on for dear life as Albert flew circles around the property before diving back towards the ground. "I think we still need some work," he added with a chuckle, throwing the large beast a ferret.
Albert accepted it this time without scrutinising the snack and Harry nodded.
"That's an improvement," he sighed. "Go on, I know you're dying to get back to them."
The hippogriff squawked as he barrelled back towards the waiting herd, and Harry returned to the house.
It was almost time to make his way to Hogwarts for the duelling club, and though he enjoyed running it, he wasn't relishing doing so in the presence of Arcturus Black and any other of the purebloods who would arrive.
Still, Harry knew it could be worse.
The patriarch of the Black family had not said anything critical about him, and was rather flattering with his comments, but the same couldn't be said for the others.
Not that he truly cared what they thought. He would just rather avoid any further unpleasantness, especially with everything else that required his focus.
"It will take time," he murmured to himself, his thoughts drifting to the seemingly impossible task of untangling the web of corruption that surrounded the death of Amelia's parents, however, Harry was happy that he had a few leads to follow up on.
Whether they proved to be fruitful remained to be seen.
Clearing his head of his musings, he took a few moments to centre himself.
He needed to focus on the club and the sudden interest in it by those he'd rather keep at a distance.
"Hogwarts Great Hall," he called loudly before stepping into the fire.
Dumbledore had granted him permission to floo directly into the school from his home, a gesture which saved him several minutes of walking from Hogsmeade to the castle.
"We have a few guests," Filius informed him as he arrived.
"I suspected as much," Harry grumbled. "Did Albus fill you in on what happened this morning?"
Filius nodded.
"Then I'm sure I don't need to tell you why they're here."
"No, you do not."
With a nod of understanding between them, they cleared the tables to the side of the room before opening the doors to admit the students and the parents who had decided to attend.
There were close to twenty in all, many of whom Harry did not recognise, but some that he unfortunately did.
"We'll get to see what you're made of, won't we, Jameson?" Lestrange asked as he passed them.
Harry smirked to himself.
Lestrange may not have known who it was in Borgin and Burke's when he'd been relieved of a significant sum of gold and had forgotten the incident entirely, but Harry hadn't.
He remembered it well and now, with such fondness.
"Something amusing?" Filius asked.
"There's always amusement to be found in any situation," Harry replied before closing the doors and turning his attention to those gathered.
Stepping up on the platform, he held his hands up to silence the room.
"As you can see, we have some guests who have opted to join us this evening. No, they're not scouts for any duelling teams or are not affiliated with the duelling circuit in any way. I expect the same level of behaviour from each of you. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Professor," the students answered.
"Good, now, we will be continuing with some duelling. I know there are several of you who have not had the opportunity to do so. Atkins, you're up first. You will be going up against Stebbins. I want both of you to remember the rules. I will intervene if either one of you breaks them."
Both students nodded as they took their places on the platform, and Harry stepped down to begin the bout.
"GO ON, SEBASTIAN!" a man in the crowd shouted enthusiastically.
Evidently, the man was Stebbins' father if the shared resemblance between them was anything to go by.
"On the count of three, gentlemen. One…two…three!"
Neither of the students hesitated, and the duel began in earnest.
Atkins and Stebbins were equally matched, and Harry nodded approvingly as each adopted the skillset they'd begun developing since the club had started.
"Stebbins has made some significant improvement," Filius commented.
"He has," Harry agreed, "but it won't be enough. He's leaving himself open too often, and Atkins will notice it. He needs to tighten up his defence a little more."
Filius nodded.
"Unless he does something stupid," Harry groaned as Stebbins raised his wand in a blatant movement and unleashed a curse towards Atkins, who froze.
With a flick of his wand, Harry sent the spell towards the ceiling and cast a powerful shield between the combatants.
"You know the rules, Mr Stebbins, that's a disqualification."
The boy scowled at him, but it was the reaction of his father that caught the attention of those within the Great Hall.
"Disqualification?" he blustered angrily. "He's being disqualified for using a bonebreaker?"
"It is one of the spells on the banned list," Harry informed the man.
"Banned list? What kind of duelling club are you running, Jameson?"
"One that is safe for students," Harry returned firmly. "Would you care to report to a student's parents that their child was killed by another student who lacks self-control? How about if it was your son who was the victim?"
Mr Stebbins scoffed.
"Not bloody likely," he declared.
"Well, be that as it may, I do not allow potentially lethal spells to be used in here. These are not professional duellists, nor are they fighting for their lives. You are welcome to teach your son as you wish, but those spells will not be used in here."
Mr Stebbins snorted and muttered something indiscernible under his breath.
"It's ridiculous," he declared. "How do you expect them to win a duel without using powerful magic?"
"You mean Dark Magic?"
Stebbins bared his teeth as he nodded.
"If that's what you wish to call it," he mocked. "You're all the same, you educators. Dark magic this, and Dark Magic that. It's pathetic."
"Your belief that Dark Magic is universally better is ridiculous," Harry sighed. "Even the simplest of spells can be implemented to defend yourself against it, and if you think otherwise, your understanding of magic is frankly less than any of the students here. Now, if you don't mind, I have a club to run."
Harry turned to address the students once more but paused as Stebbins spoke once more.
"Prove it!" he challenged. "Face me, and I'll show you and your students what a real duel looks like unless you're a stinking coward."
Harry shot a look towards Filius, who shook his head.
With a shrug, Harry turned back towards the grinning man.
"Fine," he agreed. "Get on the platform. Filius, would you do the honours?"
"That won't be necessary, Harry," Albus interjected from the rear of the hall. "The school used to host its share of the duels. Let me see, oh yes, that's it."
With a few waves of his wand, a dome formed around the platform, pushing the students closest a few feet back.
"There, that will suffice," Albus declared, and Harry offered him an appreciative nod, though he was curious as to why the headmaster was allowing this to unfold.
It took little thought.
Albus hadn't seen Harry use his wand much in his presence beyond what he demonstrated to students in the classroom, and this was the perfect opportunity for him to do so.
Harry didn't mind.
He would sooner avoid the impending altercation, but he needed to practice what he preached within these walls.
He had no doubt that he likely knew more Dark Magic than any other in the room and had become more than proficient in its use.
Not that he would need to do so now.
The aim was to prove Stebbins wrong, and Harry knew more than enough without delving into the less pleasant of magic to do just that.
(Break)
Albus would not usually approve of solving an issue in such a violent manner, but he knew that Harry would not let the situation slip out of his control, and the headmaster could not deny it would be quite the educational experience for the students.
It might even quell the foolish notion that many held onto that pureblood wizards were magically more gifted and powerful than muggleborns and half-bloods.
Besides, it gave Albus the opportunity to satisfy his own curiosity about Harry.
He'd heard from Alastor how he had aided Amelia when the two had first met in Knockturn Alley, and he of course knew of his work in apprehending Greyback.
Nonetheless, Albus had witnessed neither of these things for himself.
"What do you think, Filius?" he asked.
"Harry will wipe the floor with him," the diminutive man sighed, "but not until he has toyed with him."
"Toyed with him?"
"You'll see."
Albus looked on as the younger man divested himself of his robes and waited until Mr Stebbins was ready.
The students continued to talk excitedly amongst themselves and even made bets amongst themselves.
When Mr Stebbins drew his wand and gave the signal, he was ready to begin; Albus gave the nod for the two men to proceed.
Immediately, the man unleashed a flurry of cutting curses towards Harry, who nimbly avoided and deflected the spells with impressive dexterity.
Undeterred, Stebbins continued his onslaught, this time opting to use blood-boiling curses, rupturing curses, and even severing curses.
Albus frowned at the man.
These were all potentially fatal spells, and yet, Harry remained unfazed by them.
"A good selection," he praised Stebbins, who narrowed his eyes at him. "Keep it up."
"He's teaching," Filius snorted. "The maniac is actually teaching."
Albus could only nod as he looked on, and Stebbins, evidently not appreciating Harry's indifference, bombarded the man.
"Now, that one definitely would've hurt," Harry sighed. "Notice now that Mr Stebbins is starting to tire out. The spells he is using certainly have their place in professional duels, and certainly, if you are in a life-threatening situation, they can become rather taxing, especially if you are poorly conditioned. Don't worry, I will explain that in more detail during another session," he assured the students. "Ah, and now he is beginning to lag and breathe heavily. He won't be able to keep it up much longer."
Stebbins snarled as he continued on, angered now by Harry's lack of offence, but just as he settled into a rhythm, he found himself monumentally put on the back foot as Harry complied with the man's wish.
The speed with which he cast the spells would overwhelm even the most seasoned of duellists, and even Albus was taken aback by how quickly and ferociously Harry fought back.
Stebbins managed to block only three of the spells before conjuring a shield, which was blown apart with a thunderous rumble which echoed across the hall.
From there, the unfortunate Stebbins became little more than a standing target, and he was felled by a combination of spells that left him looking both comical and quite grotesque.
His face had erupted with boils, one of his legs was now shorter than the other, and his own boots, which had been removed, were kicking him in the backside.
Stebbins groaned into the lull, and Harry merely shook his head.
"Never forget to ensure that your opponent is disarmed," he urged, holding up the wand belonging to Mr Stebbins.
The students, who had been in a state of shock, broke out in a round of applause whilst Harry tended to the man and returned his wand when he'd been righted.
Stebbins did not linger and stormed from the hall from the humiliation.
Albus could only shake his head.
He'd known that Harry was an exceptional wizard, but to see him do what he had, and so casually, was a testament to how well-versed in magic he was.
Where he'd learned it, Albus didn't know, but what he'd witnessed made him glad that the young man was so unlike others who had passed through these halls.
More than that, however, he was pleased to see that the students were responding positively to the lesson he'd given, and even the rest of the parents who had opted to attend the meeting had been silenced by the display.
The headmaster clapped along with the others, offering Harry Jameson a smile.
He'd proven them all wrong, and Albus hoped this would be the end of the interference.
"He's damned good," a voice from Albus's left praised.
He turned to be greeted by the sight of the applauding Arcturus Black.
"He is," Albus agreed.
Arcturus eyed the man curiously before nodding.
"We could've used more men like him on the continent. Maybe then the war would not have been dragged out for so long."
Albus didn't reply to the unsubtle dig.
Arcturus had been one of those severely affected by Gellert's rise, and the man still held onto the disdain he had for Albus for his failure to intervene sooner.
That would never change, but there seemed to be grounds for something resembling civility from the Lord Black.
He seemed to be as impressed by Harry as everyone else, at the very least.
(Break)
Although patrolling in Hogsmeade was not the most exciting of places to be as an Auror, it had worked out well for Amelia. She was able to teach Imelda many of the day-to-day things she would need to know and get acquainted with the woman better.
In many ways, she was a typical pureblood, though she was much quieter, more observant, and seemingly humbler than most.
Her father, Reg, had been one of those who'd ventured to the continent to fight against Grindelwald, much to Amelia's surprise. They had little to do with the main branch of the family due to Reg being sent to fight against his will initially, but Imelda's father held onto much of pureblood beliefs despite this.
He had remained on the continent after the war, but Imelda had come to Britain to attend Hogwarts and had chosen to stay to join the Aurors when she'd finished her schooling.
"Has something happened?" Edgar asked, pulling her from her thoughts.
"What do you mean?"
"You're smiling," he pointed out confusedly. "I mean really smiling."
"Don't you start," Amelia huffed. "I've already had it from Alastor."
"So he noticed too?" Edgar returned amusedly. "Now you have got my attention. Come on, out with it."
"There's nothing to tell."
Edgar quirked an eyebrow at her, and Amelia failed to prevent herself from smiling.
Instead of answering her brother, however, she stood and rolled her eyes.
"Mind your own business," she said airily.
Edgar grinned in response.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Out."
"Out?"
"Out," Amelia confirmed. "I will be back tomorrow."
"She'll be going to see our recently returned Mr Jameson," Eliza commented as she entered the room. "Do behave yourself, Amelia," she added with a wink.
Edgar grimaced.
"She doesn't even have the decency to deny it," he groaned. "My own sister, staying with a man."
"Oh, shut up," Amelia sighed, fighting the urge to blush, and wanting nothing more than to escape their presence.
"I'll be having words with Jameson," Edgar called after her teasingly.
Amelia ignored him and stepped through the floo.
Arriving at Jameson's place, she felt a sudden sense of nervous excitement come over her.
She'd not seen or heard from him since she was last here, and it wasn't as though the dynamic of their relationship hadn't changed.
Nonetheless, she made her way to the kitchen where he greeted her with a tired smile.
"Hard day?" she asked.
"You could say that," he chuckled. "You?"
Amelia shook her head.
"Not really. I've been given a rookie to mentor."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"No," Amelia assured him. "I thought it would be harder than it is, but it's okay. I'll miss working with Moody so closely, but it had to change eventually."
Jameson nodded as he approached and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, eliciting a shy smile from Amelia.
She didn't know why, but he'd always managed to make her feel shy.
Maybe it was that she wasn't used to such affection, or perhaps it was just him.
"What made your day so rough?" she asked.
"Purebloods, mostly," Harry grumbled. "Some of them didn't like that I'm teaching the duelling club and decided they wanted to see it for themselves. I ended up duelling Stebbins and made an example of him."
"Good," Amelia declared. "Stebbins always was a prat. Did you know he's tried three times to be granted a seat on the Wizengamot, and even his own friends won't endorse him?"
"I can't say I'm surprised," Harry chuckled, frowning as he was startled by something.
He reached into his pocket and removed a leather wallet. With a breath of exasperation, he replaced it.
"I have to go," he grumbled.
"Go?" Amelia asked with a frown. "Go where?"
"It's one of those things I can't say any more about," he replied apologetically. "I'll probably be late, but Helga is already making dinner."
Amelia was taken aback and thrown off by the affectionate kiss he placed on her lips.
By the time she'd recovered, Harry was gone, and she wondered what was so urgent that he'd had to leave immediately.
It wasn't like him to do so, and especially with such a vague explanation.
"Dinner is ready, Miss Amelia," Helga announced, placing a plate of pasta on the table.
"Helga, where has Harry gone?" she asked worriedly.
"Helga cannot say, Miss," the elf replied guiltily.
It was evident she wanted to tell Amelia, but she had spoken truthfully.
The little elf couldn't tell Amelia, and the woman couldn't deny that her worry only increased.
She knew Harry had lived a life of secrecy, but she thought he'd left it behind when he'd purchased the restaurant and then the farm.
It was as concerning as it was curious, and all but took away what appetite she'd had.
Instead, Amelia knew she'd be unable to think of anything else until Harry returned, and though she knew she'd get no answers from him, she would know that he was safe.