Chapter 022
"You'll also recall I told you about how Dumbledore has been stealing from my inheritance.
"What I've already told you, though, wasn't all of it.
"When I went to Gringotts and explained the situation to them, the goblins immediately wanted to go after Dumbledore for everything he had. However, I begged them to hold off. At first, this surprised them; and they thought me weak. However, once I explained why, they were all for it and just as willing to go along with my plan.
"You see, I like to read muggle crime fiction. I'm a big fan of that genre. And one of the things I learned from reading those books is that, if you want to find out what happened to evidence, you 'follow the money trail'. I had the goblins hold off from acting by suggesting they wait for the next time Dumbledore accessed my accounts and made moves to steal yet more gold from me. And the goblins, through use of their own magics, placed tracking charms on the gold before it left their lands.
"From that they were able to track it. The monies went into quite a number of different accounts, both in the wizarding world and the muggle world. Most of it went into Dumbledore's private accounts he had set up using others to set them up for him. A very small amount went into the account of one Molly Weasley under her maiden name of Margaret Prewett. Another small amount went into a Barclays account - that's a muggle bank - under the name Vernon Dursley - that's my Uncle, who always claims I'm a financial burden on them. But, most of the rest of it goes to the same bank under the name 'White Bumblebee Enterprises'; 'Albus' is Latin for 'White' and 'Dumbledore' is an old-fashioned term for what is today known as a bumblebee. Therefore, 'White Bumblebee Enterprises' easily translates to 'Albus Dumbledore Enterprises'.
"While Harry, down there," said memory-Harry, gesturing to where real-Harry was still lounging, "Is trying to come up with ideas how to complete his task, the Goblins are currently in the process of recovering all the gold that has been stolen by Dumbledore from the Potter vaults. By the time they're finished, they assure me, Albus Dumbledore will be close to being completely broke and bankrupt. Plus, they're also recovering the money from both Vernon Dursley and Molly Weasley."
That had quite a few of the audience shocked to their very magical cores, and they could already tell Harry wasn't done yet.
"However, gold is not all Albus Dumbledore has stolen from the House of Potter," he continued. "He's also stolen family heirlooms and artefacts. These, too, the goblins are tracking down.
"And, finally, should Albus Dumbledore venture onto goblin soil before matters between he, the House of Potter and the goblins are resolved, he shall consider his life forfeit. The goblins are very much hoping to introduce old Albus to one of their security dragons - up close and personal like."
He laughed; cackled, really.
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―==(oIo)==―
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Again, Dumbledore groaned. That money was meant to be his retirement fund. He was planning on retiring as soon as he had vanquished Tom, for good.
He also knew that, once the goblins recovered all the money from his accounts he'd been carefully taking from the boy's, he'd be close to flat broke. His robes cost quite a lot. And that, once Molly learned of the money missing from her own maiden family account, she'd be coming after him with that screech she called a voice.
He really didn't know which would be worse.
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―==(oIo)==―
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"Moving on to third year. Dumbledore knew Sirius Black was innocent, he knew the school wards in his standard configuration for them would not keep the dementors out but did know he could easily adjust said wards so they couldn't come in, he knew Black knew about at least one of the secret tunnels under the wards and he knew Black would use at least one of them to come into the school. But, I do not know for sure if he knew Ron Weasley's pet rat, Scabbers, was actually the animagus form of Peter Pettigrew, or not," continued Memory-Harry, not in the least bit interested in Dumbledore's thoughts. "That's something for the DMLE to ask him.
"Now, for this year. The intent wards of Hogwarts are such that Albus Dumbledore is completely aware that the person pretending to be Professor Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody is, in fact, not. That person is actually Barty Crouch Junior under the effects of Polyjuice Potion. The reason why he is not dead is because his own father, who was Director of the DMLE at the time and is currently sitting among the judges, switched his son with his terminally-ill wife using - you might have guessed it, but I very much doubt it - Polyjuice Potion, to smuggle said son out of Azkaban."
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―==(oIo)==―
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From where she was sitting, Amelia heard the gasp and look of shocked terror that suddenly broke out on Barty Crouch Senior's face, and immediately stunned him as the man suddenly shot to his feet looking to flee.
Before she could say anything, Rufus Scrimgeour, who had returned to standing at her shoulder, said, "Magical suppression 'cuffs and portkeyed to a nice cell at the DMLE; yes, Ma'am."
Bones gave a slightly amused snort that her imminent order was quoted to her before she could utter it. She added, "And send someone to stun and arrest the fake Moody."
"Yes, Ma'am," nodded Scrimgeour as he sent another auror off to go and do just that as he moved towards Senior.
Her rising to extraordinary heights trust in the young Potter boy now had her not even questioning if he was wrong or not. Senior's reaction was more than enough to confirm it for her.
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―==(oIo)==―
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"Dumbledore was also aware my name was very likely to come out of the Goblet as a fourth competitor, or just as the representative competitor for Hogwarts," continued memory-Harry. "He knew it, because he knew Barty Junior, Polyjuiced as Alastor Moody, was very likely going to confound the Goblet to spit my name out. That's why he put up nothing more than a simple age line as the security for the Goblet.
"And, yes, Madam Bones, I have copies of each and every memory of those events," he said.
From in the stands, Madam Bones gave an almost snort-like grunt of acknowledgement.
Memory-Harry then seemed to give a sigh before he stood up straight and practically barked, "Right! That's the history lesson complete.
"And... it also marks the end of the entertainment."
Memory-Harry then turned to 'look' to where Real-Harry was still lounging back on the banana-lounge. "Alright, Harry..."
When Real-Harry didn't seem to notice Memory-Harry was supposedly now addressing him, Memory-Harry tried to 'gain his attention'. "Harry."
No response.
"Harry!"
Still no response.
"HARRY!"
Real-Harry almost jumped off the lounge in surprise before his head snapped to look at Memory-Harry. "Hunh?"
Memory-Harry smirked and said, "Your turn."
As if suddenly understanding, Real-Harry suddenly said, "Ah!"
The final memory winked out.
He quickly stood, tossing his novel into the ex-Army echelon bag. Then folded up the portable lounge, also stuffing that into the bag.
Once he was done, he then pulled the rack of empty vials out, deactivated the pensieve and began pulling the strands of memory out, dropping them into vials one at a time.
That took a few minutes.
Meanwhile, the audience - who still hadn't broken up and left - quietly sat and talked among themselves while keeping one eye on Harry as he worked.
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