HPF121-130

Chapter 121

Turning back to the now stunned assembled,

Harry said, "We gave this information to

Minister Fudge, that very night. We also

escorted, not under wand point as he came

willingly, Sirius Black back to the castle -

except for a minor detour in which he and I

were set upon by a horde of dementors.

"Minister Fudge refused to listen to us. He

accused us of heinous acts and of being

confounded. And, with Sirius locked within a

room in one of the towers in the castle,

ordered the dementors be brought in to

immediately Kiss him. Sirius, of course,

escaped yet again.

"Therefore, I flatly accuse the Minister,

Cornelius Fudge, of the attempt to commit

murder most foul of Sirius Black. Even if he

was guilty of any of the crimes he was...

supposedly... accused of, he was captured.

There was no reason for the 'Kiss on Sight'

order to remain. That's why I state its

attempted murder.

"Harry..." tried Ackerman.

"At this time, I am prepared to both offer my

memories of the events, and swear a magical

oath as to the truth of those memories,"

continued Harry, riding over Ackerman's

protests. "I will offer up my magic, my life

and my very soul to make that oath."

Hermione suddenly stood in place and firmly

stated, "As will I!"

Further pandemonium erupted. While

Hermione calmly stood there the noise in the

visitors' gallery surged around her. The

assembled weren't quiet, either.

The Chief Interrogator had to repeatedly

bang his gavel quite a few times before

Madam Bones set off a cannon blast with her

wand.

"Silence!" she snapped, when the noise level

dropped enough for her to be heard. That

stilled most of the rest.

She swivelled her eyes on Hermione and

asked, "And you are?"

"Hermione Granger, Ma'am," Hermione

firmly replied. "As he has told you, I was with

Harry for the entire evening on the night this

all happened."

"Take a seat, for now, Miss Granger," Madam

Bones ordered. Hermione sat down as

Madam Bones turned her eyes upon one of

the other aurors on the floor and ordered,

"Bring out the court pensieve."

Fudge surged to his feet and cried, "There is

no need for this. This hearing is about the

issues surrounding the story in the Daily

Prophet..."

The Chief banged his gavel and snapped back.

"Sit down, Minister Fudge! Interrogator

Bones has the floor and you will remain

silent!"

Fudge, albeit reluctantly, resumed his seat.

He looked panicky, but Umbridge just looked

furious and was staring daggers at Harry.

As the Chief was berating Fudge, the auror

sent for the records re-entered carrying a file.

He took it directly to Madam Bones.

She flicked through it and looked back at the

auror, who stood waiting. "Is this all of it?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the auror replied.

She turned back to the Chief and said, "Chief

Interrogator Fitzwilliam, I have the relevant

file relating to the incarceration of Sirius

Orion Black."

Harry finally had a name for the wizard with

the gavel.

"And is Mister Potter's testimony relating to

Black's incarceration confirmed?" Fitzwilliam

asked.

With a second scan of the file, Madam Bones

clearly said, "I have the record relating to the

incarceration of Sirius Orion Black in Azkaban.

I have the order for transfer of same from the

DMLE holding cells to Azkaban prison. It is

signed by then Minister Millicent Bagnold,

then Head of the DMLE Bartemius Crouch,

and Chief Warlock Dumbledore."

Harry immediately swivelled his eyes to

Dumbledore and glared with hate-filled eyes

at the man. Dumbledore sat there with his

eyes closed and a pained expression on his

face.

"I have a record of the arrest," she continued,

"dutifully filled and signed out by Aurors

Preedy and Watkins."

Looking back at Fitzwilliam she firmly stated,

"There are no other records."

That created a lot of noise from the visitors'

gallery and from among the assembled.

With a pained sigh, Fitzwilliam clarified, "So,

from the records, Sirius Black was arrested,

brought to the DMLE holding cells, and then

transferred to Azkaban where he remained

until he escaped?"

"Yes, Chief Interrogator," she replied.

"Further, the dates and times on the

documentation show that Black was brought

in to the DMLE holding cells at 11:05am on

the 3rd of November 1981, and then sent to

Azkaban at 2:15pm on the same day. There is

no possible way he could have received a

trial, let alone was properly interviewed

within a three hour, ten minute window."

She then turned to look at Percy. "Mister

Weasley," she asked. "Can you please turn

your pages to the day of the 3rd of

November 1981 and inform us of the trial of

Sirius Orion Black."

Percy looked at her for moment before

turning back to his massive ledger. He rapidly

flicked back through the pages until he

reached the day in question. He sat reading

down through the page until he finally

looked back at Madam Bones. "There is no

record of a trial for Sirius Orion, or any other

Black, on that day," he reported. "As a

matter of record, there was no sitting on that

day; Tuesday, the 3rd of November 1981."

Everyone was stunned for the moment,

including the Chief Interrogator. The first to

recover, he demanded, "Do you mean to tell

me that the Minister, Head of the DMLE and

Chief Warlock just decided to skip the whole

trial and threw the man into Azkaban

without even a by-your-leave?!

"Bloody Hell! Even all the supposed Death

Eaters received a trial; even when they

flat-out admitted their guilt!"

"By my order," Madam Bones smoothly cut

in and ordered. "The 'Kiss on Sight' order

against Sirius Orion Black is hereby revoked."

Looking down at one of her aurors she

indicated her and said, "Go directly to the

Department for the Regulation and Control

of Magical Creatures, and remove that order.

Come back when it's done!"

Harry said, "Excuse me, Ma'am." When she

turned her eyes to him he said, "When you

see my memory of the evening of the 9th of

June last year... which will be sworn to by

both myself and Miss Granger as to its truth...

you may be doing a lot more revoking, yet."

With a firm nod back, she turned to

Fitzwilliam and asked, "With your permission,

Chief Interrogator?"

He nodded back and turned to Harry, "Are

you aware of how to extract a memory,

Mister Potter?"

"I am, Sir," he replied.

Chapter 122

An auror came over and extracted the

memory before dropping it into the stone

basin of the pensieve, and waited.

"Play it," demanded Fitzwilliam.

Almost larger than life, the memory played

out in the empty air directly above the

pensieve. Everyone could see it quite clearly.

It started from when Harry and Hermione ran

through the tunnel from the Whomping

Willow chasing after Ron - who was being

dragged by the ankle by Padfoot - and

entered the Shrieking Shack from the

trapdoor, the confrontation between Sirius

and the three students, the arrival of Moony,

the 'unveiling' of Pettigrew, his pleading for

leniency, the arrival of Snape leading to the

escape of Pettigrew, and the chase back

down the tunnel.

Harry did not give them the memory of

Remus in werewolf form.

As soon as it finished, Harry said, "Next

important memory of that night."

While most sat there in stunned silence

thinking about what they'd just witnessed,

the auror returned the memory to Harry.

Harry then thought of the next one. With a

nod to the auror the auror removed it.

This time, it showed Harry and Sirius's arrival

on the banks of the pond running from

dementors, the dementors then circling in,

Sirius's almost Kiss, and the arrival of the

powerful stag patronus.

"There's a second part from another point of

view for that," he said.

A quick switch of memories and the memory

replayed, this time from the opposite bank. It

showed Harry and Hermione hiding behind

the tree, their argument, and Harry suddenly

ducking out and casting the patronus, forcing

the dementors to flee.

"One final memory, Ma'am," Harry stated.

Another memory switch, and this time they

were in the hospital wing. Dumbledore was

arguing with Fudge, Fudge telling Snape

there was an Order of Merlin in it for him,

Fudge not listening to Harry and Hermione

trying to explain to Fudge, before he stormed

out, refusing to listen."

Harry popped his wand out and, before

anyone could stop him, stated, "I, Harry

James Potter, swear on my magic, my life and

my very soul, that the four memories that

were shown here in the past hour are a true

and correct recollection. As I say, so I swear!"

There was a slight flash come from Harry.

Hermione was already on her feet and stated,

"I, Hermione Jean Granger, swear on my

magic, my life and my soul that the

memories of Harry James Potter shown here

in the last hour are a true and correct

recollection. As I say, so I swear!"

A slight flash also came from Hermione.

While Hermione was making her vow, Harry

was pulling up a loving memory. As soon as

she flashed, Harry pointed his wand and,

with a muttered Patronus incantation, cast.

Prongs leapt forth from the tip of his wand

almost glowing gold.

Hermione's patronus, to the shock of them

both, came out as a doe, and joined Harry's

on the floor. Obviously, the bonding had

caused her patronus to change from an otter

to a doe.

Both held them for a moment before

cancelling them.

When both put their wands away, Hermione

retook her seat and Harry accepted his

memory back before he turned back to

Madam Bones and Mister Fitzwilliam.

Madam Bones, not slow on the uptake, again

ordered, "By my order as Head of the DMLE,

the arrest warrant for Sirius Orion Black is

hereby rescinded. Further, by my order as

Head of the DMLE, I declare Sirius Orion

Black exonerated on all charges relating to

the events surrounding the death of James

and Lily Potter and Peter Pettigrew; and of

the thirteen muggles in the London street

when it was believed Peter Pettigrew was

killed.

"Further again, on my order as Head of the

DMLE, Sirius Orion Black's criminal record is

to be expunged of any wrongdoing related to

this matter." With a sigh, she went on, "It

appears all that we know of the events

surrounding the life of Mister Harry James

Potter is not the only lies we thought to be

true."

Harry snorted in amusement and said, "Oh,

you don't know the half of it."

"Pardon, Mister Potter?" asked the lady, a

little confused.

"Madam Bones," he started, "This all came

about because we were here to discuss the

article in the Daily Prophet. That led to the

discussion concerning my rightful guardian.

That person is Sirius Orion Black. First, may I

ask that my guardianship be returned to

Sirius Black? And that he also be recognised

as my rightful magical guardian, and it

be stripped from the man I believe usurped it

from him; Albus Dumbledore?"

Ackerman again glanced at Harry. Only, this

time, he gave him a nod and smile to say he

was pleased with him.

"Now, see here!" Dumbledore spluttered,

surging to his feet. "I did not usurp your

guardianship. I applied for, and was granted,

your magical guardianship, legally."

"Thank you for admitting

that, Mister Dumbledore," Harry cut back.

"Now, did you do it using your office of Chief

Warlock?"

More gavel banging by Fitzwilliam before he

scolded both Harry and Dumbledore. "That's

enough; the both of you!"

When Harry subsided and Dumbledore

retook his seat, Fitzwilliam said, "Now,

concerning your guardianship, both magical

and otherwise; by my authority I return them

to Sirius Orion Black. When he resurfaces he

can file the proper documentation.

"Returning to the matters of the article," he

sighed. "Is there anything within that article

that is untrue, to the best of your

knowledge?"

Harry thought for a moment and replied,

"Not untrue, so much as misleading."

"And what would that be?" asked

Fitzwilliam.

"In the first paragraph it said something

about how, except for what they knew

happened that night, everything else is a lie.

That statement is misleading."

"How so?"

"It implies that what happened 'that night',

as the article put it, is not also a lie," replied

Harry. "That is incorrect."

"Of course," sighed Fitzwilliam. "Sirius Black

was not the one who led

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to your

parent's cottage in Godric's Hollow."

Harry frowned and snapped back, "Sir! This is

a court of enquiry. Use the man's real name,

not that He-Who nonsense."

"I will not say his name!" Fitzwilliam snapped

back. "Everyone knows who I mean."

Chapter 123

"Fine," replied Harry. "Then, I'll use his real

name so the record is straight on this - Tom

Marvolo Riddle."

"Mister Potter!" roared Dumbledore surging

back to his feet again. "I forbid this!"

Fitzwilliam banged his gavel again and

barked back at Dumbledore, "Chief Warlock,

return to your seat and remain silent. You are

not a named Interrogator, here!"

Turning back to Harry after Dumbledore

grumped and planted his bum back in his

seat, sulking, Fitzwilliam said, "I believe it

was Vol-... him... who attacked your parent's

cottage."

"It was," replied Harry. "But, everyone calls

him that silly name that means 'Flight from

death' in French. Vol-de-mort. His real name

is Tom Marvolo Riddle; not that silly French

nonsense everyone calls him."

A lot of shocked and excited whispers had

broken out during the past minute or so.

However, Fitzwilliam sat there just as

dumbfounded as everyone else. Most were

just staring at Harry in shock.

"H-how do you know this?" Fitzwilliam

finally asked.

"He told me," replied Harry. "At least, a

memory of him did. In second year. In the

Chamber of Secrets at Hogwarts."

"That's... unbelievable, Mister Potter," the

man half-gasped. "Everyone knows that

You-Know-Who is dead."

"Really?" asked Harry right back. "Would

these be the same 'everyone' who knew that

Sirius Black led Riddle to my parent's cottage

in Godric's Hollow? The same 'everyone' who

knew that Pettigrew was dead? The same

'everyone' who believed I was growing up in

a loving, wizarding home?

"Really, Sir," smirked Harry. "How much

more information do you need to understand

that everything about me you thought true is

mostly lies?"

Harry turned to Madam Bones and happily

exclaimed, "Memory time!"

Madam Bones sighed, nodded and indicated

one of her aurors; the same one that took

Harry's memories before, to retrieve another.

"Everybody knows that there were students

being attacked at Hogwarts during the school

year of nineteen ninety two ninety three,"

explained Harry. "The Headmaster kept the

school open during that entire time. Minister

Fudge, accompanied by Mister Lucius Malfoy,

turned up at the school and arrested Rubeus

Hagrid for doing it.

"Minister Fudge's reasoning for doing so was

that, the last time the Chamber was opened,

Rubeus Hagrid was accused of doing so; and

killing the Ravenclaw student, Myrtle

Cummings. It did not matter to Minister

Fudge that there was no evidence Rubeus

Hagrid had done anything wrong. According

to Minister Fudge's own words... spoken in

the presence of Lucius Malfoy, Albus

Dumbledore, Rubeus Hagrid, Ron Weasley,

Hermione Granger and myself... he had to

be seen to be doing something. It was

yet another situation where an innocent man

was simply tossed into Azkaban without first

being tried.

"What my memory will show you is

the truth of the Dork Lard's identity, who was

really responsible, and what was really

petrifying students in the school, that year."

Harry thought hard about the event and

nodded. The auror drew the memory forth

and moved it to the stone basin.

Not even waiting for the go-ahead, he

activated it.

The memory then played from Harry and Ron

forcing Lockhart into the bathroom, Harry

activating the hidden entrance, their slide

down into the cave tunnel, Lockhart getting

Ron's wand and the Obliviate curse

backfiring on him bringing the roof down...

which had many watching scandalised at

Flophart's actions... Harry going on and

opening the main door, and his finding

Ginny's unconscious form.

Then to his chat with 'Memory-Riddle' with

the truth about his name and heritage, the

calling forth of the basilisk, the arrival of

Fawkes with the Sorting Hat, the fight with

the basilisk, getting bitten, Fawkes crying into

the wound in Harry's right forearm, and him

using the broken fang to destroy the diary.

Memory-Riddle's destruction, Ginny waking

up, Harry leading her back to the cave-in,

Ron's helping both of them through the small

gap he'd finally been able to make, Fawkes

gathering them all up and flying them back

up the pipe, and their arrival back in the

bathroom at the feet of Professor

McGonagall.

During the playing of the memory, Harry

heard gasps, the odd shriek at the relevant

moments, cheers at the end of the battle,

and mumbled chatter.

When the memory finished Harry had to ask

the stunned auror for its return.

Everyone else, except for Harry, Hermione,

Daphne and Matthias, sat there in shock. The

aforementioned had, of course, seen it

before.

Finally coming back to his senses, Fitzwilliam

turned to Fudge and said, "Minister,

you give this boy a bloody Order of Merlin,

First Class. You hear me?"

The Minister, sitting pale and trembling

slightly, just nodded back.

Turning back to Harry, Fitzwilliam asked, "Are

there any more exploding cauldrons you

want to drop on us, Mister Potter?"

"What?" asked Harry. "You haven't had

enough, yet? Gee, you people are hard to

please."

"Mister Potter," Fitzwilliam half-sighed

half-growled.

"Alright," soothed Harry. "How about this

one. Why does everyone think I was hit by

the killing curse, that night?"

"Because you were?" he asked a little

plaintively.

"Really?" asked Harry. "How do you know?

Think about this. For those we know to be

there on that night when

Riddle supposedly turned up: We know

Riddle may have been there; of course, we

now know Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper,

so he was likely there. However, we also

know he was a bit of a coward; as you saw of

the memory in the Shrieking Shack. So, we

don't know where he was in relation to the...

action, shall we say.

"We know my father was killed by the killing

curse after it was determined he duelled

with someone. Riddle may or may not have

been the one he was duelling with and who

cast the killing curse that killed him. We

know someone soon thereafter went up into

my nursery, and that my mother was hit by

the killing curse. Was it Riddle? Again, we

don't know.

"At that point, we only know that

Riddle... probably... and myself are the only

two people left alive in the cottage. There

were... possibly... other Death Eaters around,

including Pettigrew. However, we don't know

where they were in relation to what

happened next.

"At that point... supposedly... Riddle cast the

killing curse at me. The curse... supposedly...

rebounded destroying Riddle, utterly.

There's nothing left; not even his robes or

wand. It also brought down the upper storey

whole front wall and some of the ceiling and

roof of the nursery.

Chapter 124

"So, here's what I have issue with. If Riddle

was supposed to have cast the killing curse at

me... and the killing curse is supposed to

leave no mark other than a look of surprised

horror on the faces of its victims... how did it

leave a mark on me?" Harry showed what

was left of his scar. "How did it then utterly

destroy Riddle's body? How did it blast a big

hole in the wall, ceiling and roof of my

nursery?

"And all this is supposed to have happened

from a curse that 'everyone knows' doesn't

leave a mark. That, in and of itself, should

have anyone with a lick of sense when they

heard of that, saying, 'Bullshit! I don't believe

you'.

"Further, if Riddle's wand was supposedly

destroyed, there was no wand on which to

cast the prior incantation charm to

determine what Riddle, if it actually was him,

actually cast. That is, whether or not it was

actually the killing curse. And, finally, how

does a relatively normal fifteen month old

wizarding infant survive a supposedly

unsurvivable curse?"

"Then, since I was the only one apparently

left alive in the cottage, how is it that all

those books supposedly written as fact about

that night, actually have said facts? Since I

was the only one there left alive, I was the

only one who could have said anything. That

I was only fifteen months old at the time,

and my vocabulary was very limited, I believe

I can state for the record I wasn't the one

who told them."

"Do you have answers to those questions,

Mister Chief Interrogator?" Harry softly

asked, not expecting an answer.

Fitzwilliam sat there for long few moments,

chewing over that information. He eventually

started looking around to see if anyone had

the answers. Finally, still looking around, he

asked to everyone, "Anyone?"

"Spell residue," someone called.

"My mother was apparently killed by the

killing curse, within a baby's arm reach,

directly in front of me," Harry replied.

"There's your residue."

"Then what else could have happened?"

someone else blurted out.

"Unlike authors of books trying to pass off

their speculation as fact, I won't do so,"

replied Harry. "However, I'll leave you with

this thought. Unless you can categorically

state that someone was there and has

admitted to seeing the whole thing, how do

you know Riddle, the person you all refer to

by those silly hyphenated names...

You-Know-Who, et cetera... is dead? That he

hasn't since been seen or attacked anyone

else is naught but circumstantial evidence of

his demise. Someone has been selling you all

a bill of defective cauldrons. And, you folks

lapped it all up and asked for more.

"No. I think someone set me up to be seen as

the hero of magical Britain. Someone, for

whatever vile purpose, wants everyone to

see me as their hero; their saviour. And it has

to be someone who, when they say

something that everyone should have

immediately scoffed at as nonsense, you all

believed. So, you've either all been

confounded, or you trust that person's words

utterly, in the face of and directly refutable

by evidence."

Many people looked back at Harry in horror,

from both the assembled and the visitors.

"But, you killed him!" exclaimed one

horrified spectator.

"Rubbish!" Harry shot right back. "Where's

your proof?

"Think also about this, if I really did kill

Riddle that night... well, Albus Dumbledore

received an Order of Merlin, First Class, for

defeating his Dark Lord, Grindelwald... the

Ministry must not have thought I'd killed

Riddle; or, I'd have received one, too. Right?

"It really surprises me that the wizarding

public were so ready to accept Riddle was

dead. Clearly, based on the

evidence, someone stood up and intoned,

'Voldemort is dead!' and everyone went,

'Yay!' Didn't anyone bother to ask, 'Where's

your evidence? Where're his remains?

Where's his wand? Where is one skerrick of

proof that shows Voldemort is truly dead?'

Hmm?

"Yes, my nursery was blown up. And it may

very well have been shrapnel from the

structure, walls, ceiling or roof of the cottage

that gave me my scar. That's a far more likely

scenario, isn't it?

"Then, I'm taken from my nursery by either

Albus Dumbledore or someone operating

under his instructions. Now, at that point,

its two days before my godfather, Sirius Black

was supposed to have killed Pettigrew and

thirteen muggles. At that point, my

godmother, Alice Longbottom, is with her

husband, Frank; mother-in-law, Augustus

Longbottom; and her son, Neville. They

weren't attacked for a further three days. By

rights, I should have been with young Neville,

by then.

"However, is that where Albus Dumbledore

takes me? Does he hold onto me and

properly... and rightfully... hand me over to

either my godfather or godmother? Merlin,

no! Doing the right thing is clearly against

Albus Dumbledore's idea of what he believes

is right. To Hell with the wishes of baby

Harry's parents, James and Lily Potter. I'll just

kidnap the brat and go dump him at his

all-things-wizarding-hating muggle aunt and

uncle's place in Surrey."

"Mister Potter!" roared Dumbledore, again

rising to his feet. "Stop this nonsense, at

once!"

With a few bangs of his gavel, Fitzwilliam

almost shouted back, "Sit down, Chief

Warlock. You're clearly in enough trouble, as

it is! It is for this enquiry to determine what

it will and will not hear. And, we're quite

eager to hear more from Mister Potter.

"Mister Potter is speaking to matters relating

to the article that appeared in the Daily

Prophet. He is on topic. You

will not interrupt!"

Turning back to Harry, Fitzwilliam called,

"Mister Potter."

Harry went for broke, at that point. "I can

easily picture Mister Dumbledore's actions of

that night and the next. 'I'm Albus flippin'

Dumbledore, and I don't give a

flying toss what his parent's last wishes were.

I'm just going to dump the brat at

the last place he should have gone. Except, of

course, directly into the arms of Riddle's little

band of blood bigots.

"And... if anyone asks why I did it... I'll just

tell them it's for the greater good. Then,

they'll all bow to my greatness. After all, if

anyone does question my motives... not that

they really will... I'll just clam up and say

something like, 'I cannot answer that

question as it relates to the security of the

wizarding world'; or some other such

nonsense. They wouldn't dare question me

after I tell them that."

With a snort and shake of his head showing

supreme disappointment, he continued,

"Albus Dumbledore is the one who dumped

me at my wizard-hating relatives where I was

systematically abused for the next ten years.

Albus Dumbledore is the one

who immediately claimed magical

guardianship of me, with the aid of you

people in the Wizengamot. A guardianship,

mind, that should have rightfully gone to

Alice Longbottom, since Sirius Black was

hunting down Death Eater Peter Pettigrew at

the time. It was then Albus Dumbledore's

responsibility to check up on my welfare... as

was his now and wrongfully claimed duty...

and didn't!

"It was Albus Dumbledore, after I finally

arrived at Hogwarts, who received reports

from the school nurse as to my

malnourishment, poor health, and physical

evidence of abuse; and did not act. It is Albus

Dumbledore, who continues to demand I

return to the abuse of my aunt and uncle

every summer; though he knows I am abused

there; and no matter how many times I have

told him of the abuse I receive there.

Chapter 125

"By my testimony, Albus Dumbledore

is guilty of being an accessory to child abuse

during and after the fact on multiple

counts, guilty of negligence in the care of a

minor under his direct and deliberate

claimed care on multiple counts, guilty of

child endangerment by being the one who

deliberately and directly placed me into the

hands of child abusers, and guilty of violating

the Last Will and Testament of James and Lily

Potter as to the dispensation of their estate

and the care of their only son.

"You want to know who is to blame for the

treatment of your..." he snorted,

"Boy-Who-Lived hero?" He raised his hand

and pointed right at Dumbledore. "He sits

among you as your Chief Warlock, and he

claims the name of Albus Percival Wulfric

Brian Dumbledore!"

Pandemonium. Many in the visitors' gallery

wanted Dumbledore tried right then and

there. Some among the assembled were of

the same opinion. However, the final act of

the enquiry was the arrest and charges laid

on Dumbledore by Madam Bones. Harry was

then free to go, but advised he'd likely be

called as a witness for the prosecution in the

case against the old man.

Harry just nodded back. However, he did not

think such a trial would even come to pass.

Both the Ministry and the Wizengamot were

far too corrupt for such a scenario to actually

play out.

No, Harry's and his bondmates' aim was just

to have Dumbledore well and truly shown to

be incapable of holding the magical

guardianship of anyone; let alone Harry. And,

that people would now recognise he actually

was fallible. He was also sure to be further

pilloried in the media.

Anything that kept Dumbledore hopping,

trying to put out little spot fires against his

great plans, was good value in Harry's mind.

Harry was not reluctant to toss more petrol

onto the flames.

He wondered how long it would be before

Dumbledore called him to his office, once he

was back in the school.

Before they left, Stewart pulled them aside.

"Well," he said. "It appears you no longer

need me to organise a trial for your godfather.

However, you'll need me again if this matter

with Dumbledore goes to trial."

"I see you're just as doubtful of that coming

to pass as I am," said Harry, wryly. "I think

Dumbledore's somehow going to use every

contact and favour he's got to ensure it

doesn't."

"My sentiments, precisely," replied Stewart.

"As Madam Bones has already notified me

that I may be called in as a witness for the

prosecution, what are your views on

Dumbledore, as Headmaster, summoning me

to his office between now and when this

matter goes to court; or doesn't?" asked

Harry.

The solicitor thought about it for a while

before he replied. "A difficult to determine

situation. One the one hand, he'll do it... and

can only do it... in his role as Headmaster.

Further, as the court has not yet been called,

and as you cannot actually be called as a

material witness until it has, you are not yet

actually a witness for the prosecution.

"On the other hand however, as things

currently stand, you will be called as such a

witness. Plus, irrespective of Dumbledore

being the Headmaster, he's still the man who

will face trial. As such, it would still be

improper for him to directly interact with you.

And, as Headmaster, there really is no need

for him to do so."

He looked at Harry in a rather direct manner.

"Do you expect to be called to his office?"

"I think you can bank on it," Harry firmly

replied.

"Hmm," Stewart verbally nodded. "My legal

advice is to inform him you cannot directly

interact with him until the legal issues he

faces are resolved."

"Thank you," Harry breathed in relief. "That's

all I needed to hear."

Matthias took the three bondmates directly

back to Hogwarts, escorting them all the way

to the Entrance Hall.

After thanking the man, Harry quickly

escorted the girls directly back to their

apartment so they could change into

something more befitting a school day

evening meal at the school.

After quickly changing, he grabbed

parchment, ink and quill and quickly drafted

a letter to hand off to whatever Professor

would pass him a note from the Headmaster

summoning him to the his office.

With a few minor alterations from the girls,

he was done; and wrote out the actual note.

* # *

Headmaster,

I have been notified by the Head of the DMLE,

Madam Amelia Bones, to hold myself as if

being formally called as material witness for

the prosecution in a matter being raised

against you relating to myself. As such, I have

been advised by retained legal counsel not to

meet with you, or otherwise interact with

you, in any manner other than normal

Headmaster / student relations, as such

would be improper. And, that such

interactions not ever take place out of the

public sphere, lest it appear you are

attempting to pervert the course of justice

through what is known as 'witness

tampering'.

Acceding to that advice, I will not be meeting

with you in your office, or anywhere else

private, for the foreseeable future; and until

such time as the legal issues between us

have been resolved within a court of law.

Any and all such attempts to force the issue

will be met with my direct refusal and

immediate notification of my legal counsel. I

feel confident any issues that the senior staff

need raise with me can be handled by either

the Deputy Headmistress, Professor Minerva

McGonagall, or by my Head of House,

Professor Filius Flitwick.

Yours,

Harry J Potter.

* # *

Happy with the document, he immediately

created a copy of it using the copying

charm, Gemino; and had just finished as the

girls returned to their living room from their

bedrooms.

Chapter 126

As the three entered the Great Hall for dinner,

Harry had the note folded and tucked into an

inside robe breast pocket. He expected to be

using it before the meal ended.

The three, again, sat opposite Luna. However,

there were now others within her year; and

years either side, who were paying her at

least some attention. Harry's bollicking of

them seemed to have gotten through to at

least a few, at last.

Hermione was telling Luna all about what

happened during the enquiry while they

were eating dessert when Professor

McGonagall dropped by attempting to hand

Harry a note.

Instead of taking it, Harry asked, "Let me

guess; the Headmaster would like to see me

in his office immediately after dinner?"

With a frown of displeasure, the Professor

replied, "It is not for you or me to ask, Mister

Potter."

"I see," said Harry. He reached into his

pocket, drew forth his prepared note and

handed that back to the Professor. "It is for

me to ask, Professor. And it is explained in

that note right back to the Headmaster. I

will not be attending his office, this evening...

or, any other evening... for the foreseeable

future; until such time as the legal difficulties

between us are resolved. I have been so

advised by legal counsel."

With her lips firmly pursed in anger, or

simple displeasure, the Professor took the

note and left again. Harry and the others

continued their meal in peace.

The three had just returned to their

apartment after the meal when there was a

knock on the door by the stone Professor.

Hermione rose from where she was sitting

and said, "I'll get it." Before walking over and

opening the door.

From where the other two were sitting, they

heard Hermione ask, "Headmaster?"

"Miss Granger, I must speak with Mister

Potter, immediately," they heard the old man

say, just before he practically forced his way

inside.

Both Harry and Daphne rose from the

couches as the old man walked in.

"Mister Potter," said Dumbledore, clearly

angry. "I am not in the habit of having my

summonses refused by students."

"Headmaster, as my note back to you clearly

stated, I have been advised by legal counsel

not to meet with you in private," Harry firmly

replied. "Now, please leave!"

"I am the Headmaster of this school, Mister

Potter," glared Dumbledore. "You will not

refuse my summons when I want to speak

with you."

Harry glared back. "Certainly, Headmaster. I

completely understand. I shall go speak with

Professor Flitwick immediately after you

leave about transferring to another school.

After all, I have been advised by legal counsel

not to speak with you in private, as you have

been advised. Since my being a student at

this school obviously causes a conflict, I shall

organise to transfer to another school."

Turning to Daphne, he said, "Daphne, please

take note of the date and time of this...

conflict. We will need to advise Mister

Ackerman of exactly what is going on here,

right now. I believe he will want to let

Madam Bones know." Turning back to the

Headmaster, he said, "Please hold your

comments until Miss Greengrass is ready to

write down exactly what you say."

Quickly gathering to herself parchment, ink

and a quill, Daphne said, "Ready, love."

"Now, Headmaster, what is it you wish to

speak with me about?" asked Harry. "And

please speak clearly so Miss Greengrass is

sure to properly write down what you say."

Dumbledore continued to try to look angry.

However, Harry could see the man was also

afraid. He knew that fear resolved around

Harry leaving Hogwarts; or, worse, magical

Britain.

"Harry," Dumbledore tried, "I need you to

reconsider."

"Reconsider what, Headmaster

Dumbledore?" Harry asked right back.

With an almost force of will, Dumbledore

replied, "I need you to reconsider pursuing

this... vendetta... against me. I consider you

the grandson I was never fortunate enough

to have. I consider you my successor, as the

'Leader of the Light'. I was hoping to offer

you my guidance to take over my role when I

eventually step down."

Harry stared back for a few moments before

he finally began to reply. "First, Headmaster,

none of that has one iota of relevance to do

with you forcing your way in here as

Headmaster. None of that has any relevance

to this school. As such, you are abusing your

authority. Secondly, I am not pursuing a

vendetta against you, as you state. I am

clearing the air of the many and varied

misconceptions about me. If that causes you

personal harm to your reputation, so be it. I

spoke only the truth, without obfuscation or

vacillation. It could only cause you harm if

your reputation is based on other than the

truth.

"Through your deliberate and pre conceived

actions you placed me in a home... no, not a

home... you placed me in an

abusive environment, and did not bother to

even consider it important enough to check

up on my welfare; not even once. You did

this to someone who you... through your

own words, just then... consider the

grandson you were never fortunate to have.

Thanks, but no thanks!

"You are the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW,

you are the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot,

you are the Headmaster of Hogwarts School

of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and you

were supposed to be my magical guardian

after you deliberately and with forethought

claimed it from my rightful guardians.

Clearly... clearly... you have spread yourself

way too thin. Through my own research I

have discovered those first three roles are all

supposed to be fulltime positions. Either you

are breaking the fundamental laws of time,

you are not putting in the proper and

responsible hours to each of the positions

you currently hold, or you are delegating the

work to others while claiming the full pay

and privileges of each. If it's the

last, Mister Dumbledore, it's nothing less

than fraud.

"As for the last role, by rights, I

should sue your arse! Through our legal

system I should seek financial recompense

from you for your neglect. Where would your

precious reputation be if I was to do that?

However, I'm willing to forgo doing that if...

and only if... you cease any and all attempts

to control me... either directly or indirectly...

through deed, word or agency.

"And, I'm only willing to do that, because it

means I would have to spend

even more time interacting with you if I was

to pursue the matter through our courts. I

don't like you, I don't trust you, and... frankly,

Sir... I feel you have a most unhealthy

obsession with me. It scares me how much

you seem to be focussing on me.

"Now, Headmaster, Supreme Mugwump,

Chief Warlock or Mister Dumbledore...

whatever title it is you're currently using or

abusing while you stand here... have I made

my views on this matter completely clear to

you?"

The Headmaster stood there for a few

moments with his head slightly bowed but

anger still in his eyes. "Yes, Mister Potter; you

have. However, there is much you don't

know that only I can tell you. That is why it is

important you must remain at Hogwarts

under my tutelage."

Chapter 127

"Ah, yes," said Harry, with a slight growl.

"Information control. It's just another form

of control you're trying to place upon me.

I'm supposed to need information you have;

yet, you're not willing to give it to me. And,

when I ask, you brush me off with some...

frankly... inane comment about how my

childhood is too important to enjoy with

such weighty information. Well Mister

Supreme Mugwump Headmaster Chief

Warlock Leader of the Light Dumbledore,

I'm not interested. I'm not buying it. If the

information is important for me to have,

then give it to me. However, if

you're not willing to give it to me, shove it! I

will no longer allow you to use it to have

power over me. I will find some other way to

get it if I actually need it.

"To the second part of your... reasoning...

your tutelage, I put to you it is quite difficult

to remain under your tutelage when I've not

been under it at all! In case you've not

figured it out, Headmaster, you've taught me

nothing here except for the following facts:

One, you refuse to answer very important

questions relating to me when I ask them of

you; and two, when I complain about your

teaching staff... Snape, in particular... you

utter some nonsense or other inanity about

how he has your complete faith and trust;

which, in turn, demonstrates your complete

ignorance of the teaching qualities of your

staff, or that you really don't give a shit.

There are, of course, other matters, but

those are the big two. Anything else?"

With a returned angry glare, Dumbledore

tried, "I assure you, Harry; when the time is

right, I will give you both the information and

tutelage you need. However, the time is

not yet right."

"Then, Headmaster, when it is, seek me out,"

returned Harry. "I have no idea where in the

world I'll be, at that time; but, I've been

giving a heap of consideration to transferring

the three of us to either Salem in the US, or

Dundee in Australia. I had originally thought

to transfer to Beauxbatons in France, until I

remembered I speak very little French other

than a few words. At least both the US and

Australia speak English, even if it's with an

accent. It's a decision my rightful guardian,

Sirius Black, the Grangers and the

Greengrasses will make. Anything else?"

"No matter how unworthy of the title of hero

of magical Britain you feel you are," tried

Dumbledore, "you are considered a hero. If

you leave Britain, it could cause such a furore

it may likely bring down the government and

lay ruin to our way of life. Do you think so

little of your friends and their families that

you'd do such a thing to them?"

"Ah, control method number two; guilt

tripping," replied Harry. "That won't work,

either. First, I am not responsible for me

being placed on that hero pedestal. If

anything, you are when you refused to act in

my best interests and put a stop to it as soon

as it started. Second, I'm now doing my best

to correct that misconception about me.

That's what those articles you don't want me

causing to be printed are all about. And,

three, the only friends I have are in this room.

And, the only other people I care about,

should be caring more about me than

magical Britain; and should, therefore,

support my desire to leave. The other

students of this school, with the notable

exceptions of a very

few, amply demonstrated to me in my

second year how little they really care for me.

Does the term 'Heir of Slytherin' ring any

bells for you, Headmaster? That's yet

another thing you and your staff should have

put a stop to as soon as it began. Next?"

"What about the wishes of your parents,

Harry?" asked the old man, scrambling for

ideas. "They'd have wanted you to attend

Hogwarts, as they did."

"Sadly, we'll never know what my parents

wanted, Headmaster; as I've never seen the

Will they should have left behind," reasoned

Harry. "As such, we have no way of

knowing what my parents wanted of, or for,

me. I suspect I'll probably learn more once

I'm able to sit down and discuss the matter

more fully with my godfather."

Harry knew a Will should exist, considering

the size of the Potter fortune, but had no

idea where it could be found. That the goblin

Sharpclaw did not tell him of its existence

implied a copy was not within their

possession. He had the distinct feeling

Dumbledore either had it, or had destroyed

it.

"Will that be all, Headmaster?" asked Harry,

allowing a hint of frustration to colour his

voice.

With an exaggerated sigh, Dumbledore

replied, "I see you are in no mood to listen to

reason, Harry. We shall speak of this at

another time."

As Dumbledore turned to leave, Harry shot

back, "And, when we do, Headmaster, it will

be in the company of my solicitors. My return

missive to you stands! I will NOT meet with

you, in private, nor for any reason not

directly related to my schooling, without the

attendance of my legal counsel. I expect my

solicitors will soon visit you to remind you of

that."

Dumbledore left without further

acknowledgement.

The articles concerning Harry's appearance

before the Wizengamot hearing, specifically

what he caused to be made known, created

both a morning and evening edition of

the Daily Prophet to be distributed the next

day. It appeared there was so much

information to cover that the senior staff of

the newspaper decided to spread it across

two editions, with most of what appeared in

the evening being led by teasers in the

morning.

Harry and his bondmates decided to simply

stick together for the entire day and

weathered the clamour that occurred in the

school from the articles. Of course, it was the

blood bigots in Slytherin, and a couple from

Ravenclaw, that were the most upset. None

of them liked to learn that Voldemort...

Riddle... was actually only a half-blood.

What annoyed Harry and his bondmates the

most wasn't what was being said by other

students. It was the remarks of the Minister

that appeared in the papers along with the

articles. The Minister was being adamant

that Voldemort was truly dead and gone, and

refused to entertain the idea he wasn't.

Umbridge even used the opportunity to call

him a 'delusional attention seeking liar'. Only

this time it occurred about nine months

earlier than the previous timeline. He did not

need to even bother contacting his solicitors

as Miss Pentridge had immediately written

him to let him know she was already seeking

legal redress for the remarks.

"Idiot man!" snarled Harry, after reading the

Minister's remarks. "He was an idiot then,

just as he's an idiot now."

"Uh-hmm," murmured Hermione, still

reading. "This time, though; we'll have to

take him down, earlier. He is as much

responsible for all the deaths that occurred

as Riddle, himself. He gave Riddle that entire

year, last time, to rebuild his forces."

Chapter 128

From then onwards, the weeks began to flow

by.

Ackerman had been to visit the Headmaster

and given him a bollicking. It was

immediately followed by a formal 'cease and

desist' order delivered by hand from Madam

Bones; with further threats of arrest should

he even consider breaching the order.

However, a criminal trial against Dumbledore

had, as predicted, stalled. Nothing further

occurred.

To try and get things moving again, the

bondmates then caused for the whole story

of the Philosopher's Stone to be released to

the Prophet. This time there were many

angry questions over how Dumbledore could

place the students of Hogwarts lives' at risk

by having such an artefact stored at the

school.

However, though it caused even more angry

letters from concerned parents to be sent to

the Editor of the Prophet, it was still not

enough to see Dumbledore brought in for

trial. It was merely seen as a separate

incident, unrelated to his initial problems.

For strengthening their bonds the three

bondmates, by unspoken agreement,

decided not to progress matters beyond

what they were already doing. All three

decided they had no reason to rush anything,

with Luna easily able to see the bond and

ensure no harm occurred.

However, during their latest visit to Madam

Pomfrey for an 'official' bond health check,

the medi-witch gave them a 'what for'

lecture.

Sitting them all on one bed, she stood before

them and demanded, "Why am I not seeing

any progression in the bonds? Everything

appears to have stalled!"

"Because there truly is no need to rush,

Madam Pomfrey," Harry calmly replied. "And,

with Luna's assistance, we know we're not

causing any harm to it."

"And, how would you know that?" she

snapped.

"How would anyone know either way?" he

countered. With a sigh, he said, "Madam

Pomfrey, please consider our ages. Please

consider the way we were each raised!"

Pomfrey appeared to visibly sag at Harry's

words. And appeared to have recognised the

verbal slap for what it was. "I understand,

Mister Potter," she softly replied. "However,

we do not know if there is a finite time

period we need... you need... to consider

here."

"But, the books we've read have already

provided prior evidence it can take a lot

longer than we're currently giving it," replied

Hermione. "Harry's right; there's no rush."

Daphne, who'd been sitting with her head

bowed, softly said, "It's my fault."

"What? No!" exclaimed Harry, barely beating

Hermione to the same response.

"And, just why do you believe it's your fault,

Miss Greengrass?" asked Madam Pomfrey.

"If anything, it's the fault of the three of you,

equally combined."

"There is no fault!" exclaimed Hermione, a

little shrill for being affronted.

"Alright, we're not puritans," sighed Harry.

"We aren't too held back by the mores of

society, either magical or muggle. But none

of the three of us see a need to rush anything,

here. We've read the available literature and

there were no specifics as to how long this is

supposed to take. Merlin, madam! Even then,

none of them cover three-way bonds.

"The bond could be stronger if we take our

time, or dissolve. If we rush it, we could do

more harm than good. There's no way to

know. All we can do is go with our gut

feelings, supported by what you and Luna are

telling us. Neither of you have steered us

wrong, yet. Yet!"

"All three of us are agreed we see no need to

push things, Madam," tried Hermione. "You

cannot state... without doubt... that the

bond won't be harmed by us pushing things

too fast, or will be harmed by us taking it

slow."

With a sigh of near surrender, Madam

Pomfrey replied, "No, I cannot. However, the

literature does go into detail concerning

two-way bonds, and that the bonds need to

be constantly improved until they reach

finalisation."

"And those mentioned in the literature did

not also include someone with mage sight or

Ravenclaw's Gift being able to constantly

monitor the bond on behalf of the

bondmates," Hermione shot right back.

"Hermione, stop it," said Daphne firmly but

quietly. Looking at the medi-witch, she

sighed with an almost pained look and said,

"There's another factor of which you're

unaware."

"Daphne," both Harry and Hermione warned.

"You don't need to tell her."

With a look of apology at her bondmates,

Daphne looked back towards Madam

Pomfrey with her eyes downcast, and quietly

said, "What you don't know is that, before

the bonds were established, I was... sexually

molested."

"What?" gasped Pomfrey. "Oh,

you poor dear!"

As the medi-witch stepped forward to cast

more scans, Daphne held up her hand and

firmly said, "You won't find any evidence of it.

The... physical... side of things has been

rectified."

"But, you still have the psychological trauma

associated with it," finished the medi-witch,

understanding as she lowered her wand

again.

As Harry was the only one sitting next to her

- Hermione was on his other side - he twisted

on the bed and wrapped the girl in his arms,

not saying a word.

"And, that's why things are being taken

slow," explained Hermione in a furious

mutter to the medi-witch while Harry just

glared.

"Yes, yes," said Madam Pomfrey, almost

distractedly. "It all makes perfect sense,

now."

Thinking furiously for a few moments, she

turned once more to Daphne and said, "If

you ever need to talk of it, my door is always

open to you. You need to know that. And,

never fear; this will not go into my medical

files on you. I trust my security to hold up to

the best, but... I'll not risk it."

"Thank you," Daphne quietly said in a small

voice.

"I think that's enough for today," Harry firmly

declared, hopping off the bed and helping

Daphne off. Hermione followed.

The three then made their way back out of

the infirmary without a backward glance.

They immediately headed directly to their

apartment whereupon Daphne broke down,

sobbing. Her bondmates put her to bed with

a calming draught and lay cuddling into her

as she fell asleep.

Both Harry and Hermione realised it was

something Daphne needed to do as part of

recovering from that awful experience.

The girls, who had firmly taken control of the

project of getting Harry's back-mail sorted,

had organised students who were eager for

the added pocket money to start sorting

through everything.

Chapter 129

After the first couple of days, they took Harry

to the old classroom and proudly showed

him what they were doing. Inside, he saw

about a dozen students from the various

houses diligently working away. He was

stunned by the amount of activity going on.

Daphne introduced him to a pair of senior

year Slytherins and a Ravenclaw, who were

carefully scanning each and every item for

malicious traps, enchantments and the like.

That was all being set aside, unopened, into

a set of what looked like plastic tubs.

The 'enchantment checkers' were then

passing on the clean mail to a pair of younger

years - two Hufflepuffs - who were opening

each item and cataloguing each into a pair of

ledgers. They were sorting the mail into

suspected age groups of the sender for

suitable responses. They also had a large bin

with anti-odour shields around it that was

being filled by rotting perishables and the

like.

The mail was then passed on to the next

station where four students - two

Ravenclaws a Hufflepuff and a Gryffindor -

were organising and writing responses using

Muffliato charms and dicta-quills.

The mail then went to the next station where

the responses were checked and the

non-perishable gifts were separated out. The

gifts went to a young Slytherin who was

making decisions as to what to do with them,

while the responses went to a pair of

Gryffindors. The Gryffindors then organised

the responses into what to send and when.

Being led from station to station, his two

bondmates described to him what was

happening; and introduced Harry to each and

every one of those working. When he was

finished they showed him the various gifts,

where they were being stacked onto a

separate set of shelving, plus all the formal

documents that had been sorted out,

separately.

"This is..." he tried. "Wow!"

Looking to his bondmates, full of emotion, he

said, "Thank you. Thank you, both, very

much."

That earned him a double-hug and kisses to

his cheeks.

The girls led him over to a table where a

stack of letters was sitting in an 'In' tray with

an empty 'Out' tray sitting alongside it.

"This stack represents all the letters where a

gift was sent that requires you to actually

sign the response in your own hand,"

showed Hermione.

With a frown, Harry asked, "There are letters

being sent out that I'm not signing?"

"Yes," she replied. "There's so much there's

no way you can possibly just sign everything,

let alone actually write the actual letters. So,

instead, letters are being written that are not

signed. Instead, the name 'Harry' is simply

being written at the bottom on your behalf."

Taking another look at the racks loaded with

mail, Harry sighed and said, "You're right. I

couldn't possibly even just sign each and

every letter. I'd still be at it for far too long."

With a look of relief, Hermione accepted the

statement, happy Harry hadn't needed to be

fought over it.

"Whose owls are we using?" he suddenly

asked.

"They're hired," replied Daphne. "There's a

service you can contract owls from to take

care of major mailings. They're the owls

often used by those businesses that have

mailing lists and want to send out updates or

new catalogues. We have them for the time

being. We lose them for two days in a week

to another contract, then they come back

here."

"You can bulk hire owls?" asked Harry,

surprised.

"Yes," replied Daphne. "How else did you

think bulk mailings were sent out?"

"I thought the Owl Mail Office handled those

sorts of things," he replied.

"They do," she returned. "The company we

hired these from is a commercial arm of the

Owl Mail Office."

"Ah," he exclaimed. "I wondered."

"All you'll need to do, at the end, is decide

what to do with all the gifts that you

received over the years," advised Hermione.

"A great many of them are age appropriate

to the age you were when the gifts were

originally sent. I doubt you'd want to keep,

for instance, a stuffed toy dragon that'll fly

around your bed for you."

Harry laughed and replied, "No. However, I

may want to keep some pretty odd things...

Actually, have our handy little industrious

beavers sort the gifts into two separate piles

of what is shop bought... manufactured...

and what is hand made. For instance, any

handmade cards by children I'd like to keep. I

think I'd like to put them into an album, or

something."

"You want to keep the hand made gifts?"

asked Daphne, curious. "Why?"

With a shrug, Harry replied, "Anyone can go

and hand over anything from a few knuts to

a heap of galleons for a gift for someone. It

may take gold, but it also takes little effort.

However, taking the time to make a

handmade gift shows true commitment.

That's the sort of thing I'd be more likely to

cherish."

The two girls thought about that for a few

moments before Hermione sniffled and said,

"He's right. My parents still have finger

paintings and similar I made for them while

in early primary school stuck to the fridge.

My very first finger painting, my very first

drawing with crayons and my very first with

pencils my parents had framed and now

adorn the walls in their dental surgery.

"I used to be embarrassed when I went in

there and saw them. Now, though, I know it's

a symbol of their love for me; for their pride

in me."

"You want to frame them and display them

on your walls?" asked Daphne.

"No," he replied. "I want to... put them on

display, somewhere. At first, that may be in

my home. Later, that may be in a museum

concerning the war... wars. I may detest my

fame; but, that doesn't mean it cannot be

used to create a museum. It also means I do

not... dislike... that small children look up to

me. Of that, I'm grateful. It's the adults who

should know better.

"A museum is a wonderful way to force

people to remember their history. And,

hopefully, help them come to understand

what leads to war; what leads to the creation

of dark lords. And, in turn, what has led

magical Britain to have such an extremely

low population right now."

Deep in thought, both girls nodded at Harry's

explanation. Hermione said, "That's actually

a brilliant idea. Those who fail to learn from

history's mistakes are doomed to repeat

them. Or, something like that... I think."

"Exactly," smiled Harry. "That's what makes

museums so valuable. It's not the art within

them; it's the knowledge they retain and give

to successor generations."

"A worthy goal," mused Daphne. "So, you

want to build and house a museum. That'll

be expensive."

Chapter 130

"Maybe," shrugged Harry. "But, I also want

to create a foundation to fund it. I also want

to see it recognised as a worthy charity; to

see it as a worthy beneficiary of

bequeathments. In that way, funding for it

will eventually become self-sustaining. In the

intervening years, House Potter can be its

main contributor."

"Well, that's for another day," said Hermione.

"For now, we have homework and study."

Harry groaned as Daphne grinned. Only

Harry's reaction made Hermione frown and

respond. "Harry James Potter; just because

we've done this before does not mean you

don't have to complete assignments and

study. This time, at least, you can put in the

effort to succeed at more than just Dah-dah."

"Yes, dear," he muttered. That earned him a

smack to the back of the head from both

witches. He was about to complain when he

realised he didn't really have the right to.

He did come across as moody and somewhat

belligerent in the tone of his response.

For the next few nights both girls slept in

their own beds. When Harry pouted a little

about it they both blushed, got angry and

told him they had 'women's issues' to deal

with and didn't want to share a bed with

him.

After three days of dealing with two irritable

witches who got angry with him at the drop

of a hat, he decided to go and talk to Luna

about it. He knew she arrived very early for

breakfast, so rose early to join her for his

own breakfast in the Great Hall.

"Luna, you've got to help me," he begged,

after telling her of what he felt was their

estrangement. "I've clearly done something

wrong and don't know what it is."

Luna heard him out without comment. When

he finally wound down, she looked at him

directly and quietly said, "Harry, it's not your

fault. Both of your ladies are currently

experiencing the time of month known as

menses. It will pass within the next day or

so."

Harry looked back with confusion until his

eyes widened in dawning comprehension.

"Oh, God!" he moaned. "I'm an idiot."

"No, you're not," she disagreed. "They really

should have told you. However, we witches

know it's something most wizards don't want

to know anything about. That they're both

going through it at the same time is quite

unusual; but not unheard of. Wait until

they're not so irritable and talk to them

about it. Let them both know it's something

you recognise as being natural; and that you

understand."

Harry nodded and gratefully said, "Thanks,

Luna."

She nodded back and said, "Either that, or

the wrackspurts are confusing them."

Harry smiled back.

That evening, once the three were back in

their apartment with him sitting on one

couch opposite the two girls, he said, "I've

finally come to understand what you two

ladies have been going through for the past

few days. I hope you both can forgive me for

not realising it earlier."

With all three blushing, Hermione replied,

"Harry... i-it's kind of an unwritten rule that

girls don't talk about 'female issues'...

especially about that time of the month...

with boys."

Thinking hard, Harry posited, "Well, while I

understand they wouldn't talk about it with

just any boy, wouldn't wives have to talk

about that sort of thing with their husbands

'slash' partners? I mean, wouldn't it create

problems in their relationship if they didn't?

"You and Daphne... and I understand it's

through no real fault of your own, as I

understand women can become short

tempered then... but, you and Daphne

actually had me worried and upset. The way

the two of you were acting these past few

days, I thought I'd done something wrong.

A-and that it was up to me to figure out what

it was and fix it."

Hermione moved first, quickly followed by

Daphne, as they both quickly rose from their

couch and, coming at him from either side of

the coffee table, sat on the couch either side

of him. Both enveloped him in a hug.

"Harry, it's not your fault!" murmured

Hermione. "You're right in that... as we're so

close, now, and considering our usual

sleeping arrangements... we should have

been at least a little upfront with you about

what was going on. But, we thought you

knew!"

Harry, blushing, just shook his head.

"Sorry, Harry," apologised Daphne, moving in

for a second hug.

While Daphne hugged Harry, Hermione - in

her usual scheduling mode - explained,

"Alright. What you need to know. My cycle is

almost exactly twenty-eight days long. In

other words, I'm average. My... flow... is

generally for four days. So, for your

information, I'm pretty much finished. So, for

twenty-four days, I'm fine; and, for the other

four days, I'm not.

"Let's see. I'm lucky in that my... cramping...

isn't too severe. For your information, it's the

cramping that makes us women irritable;

plus, the 'unclean' feeling we get

during that time. A good pain relief at night is

often a hot water bottle placed on the lower

abdomen. And, don't worry, Winky takes

care of that for me."

Turning to Daphne, she asked, "Daphne? Are

you willing to share?"

Blushing, Daphne pulled away from Harry

and looked away a little. "Let's see," she

stammered a bit in embarrassment. "My

cycle is the witch's cycle. Purebloods are,

more often than not, tied to the lunar cycle.

So, my cycle runs for about twenty-nine and

a half days. The... messy... part of that lasts

almost five days. And, like Hermione, I get

cramps, but Madam Pomfrey has potions for

that."

"She does?" interrupted Hermione.

"Yes," nodded Daphne, looking at her

bond-sister. "You need to ask her for a

witch's monthly pain relief. You take it as

soon as the cramps start, and it'll last for the

entire time. It won't affect your thoughts or

make you tired like a general pain relief

potion, either. It's specifically targeted to

the... you know... the womb. However, it

doesn't stop the irritability."

"Thank you," sighed Hermione. "I'll

remember to ask her about it for next

month."

"If Hermione's cycle is a little shorter than

mine," continued Daphne, "We will steadily

start to have... that... time further and

further apart. That we're having the cycles at

the same time, now, is very unusual but is, of

course, also mathematically feasible. It will

occur about once every... eighteen months?

Or, thereabouts. But, there will also be a few

months, either side, where our days will only

partially overlap.

"We know you understand, Harry," blushed

Daphne. "However, we still apologise for

how we've... shunned... you these past few

days."

"That's alright, Daphne," he replied. "As I

said, I understand. And, thank you, both, for

letting me know what was going on. At

least now I understand I'd done nothing

wrong."

With a kiss to each cheek from the girls, they

returned to the other couch. And the girls

decided to again tutor Harry on third year

Ancient Runes for the rest of the evening."

The next evening Hermione returned to

sleeping in Harry's bed. Daphne returned the

next night.