Wherein Harry learns the extent of his likely inheritance from Sirius, finds out considerably more about the Malfoys, uses Occlumency, gets angry and embarrasses himself, is introduced to classical music, sees his first movie, eats his first restaurant meal, acquires a new love interest, faces the music, gets in quite a spot of bother, and has his world explode.
Disclaimer: I neither own nor claim any other rights in the characters and other concepts created by J.K. Rowling. I make no money, nor do I seek any commercial advantage from this work. As such it constitutes "fair use" as defined in 17 U.S.C. §107.
Chapter 10 - Truth and Consequences
For several seconds, Harry simply stared in silence at the woman sitting across the table from him. He could not remember the last time he had been asked such an open-ended and honestly put question. When Dumbledore told him things, the discussion was always on the Headmaster's terms, not his. Even when Hermione helped him figure things out, it was in a much more limited and focussed way. Eliza, on the other hand, was inviting him to ask her anything he wanted.
"At least close your mouth before flies get in," Eliza snickered, giving him a sideways glance.
"Er.… Okay, what does Draco bloody Malfoy have to do with Sirius Black's will?" Harry asked. "That's a truly odd combination if I've ever heard one."
Eliza explained the situation in small steps, starting with what Harry did know - that Draco Malfoy's mother's maiden name was Narcissa Black, and that she was Sirius Black's cousin. That placed Narcissa's male offspring squarely in the line of succession to the Black fortune because the direct line, through Orion and Walburga Black, had died without children of their own.
Eliza explained, with visible disgust, that in the wizarding world women could not inherit as long as there were male heirs, so the male lines were essentially all that mattered. "Witches come with dowries, so they are forbidden to inherit." Thus, there had been no legal need to disown Andromeda Black; since she was disowned by operation of law for marrying outside the Wizard community. Conveniently, however, the action also avoided the need to provide her with the substantial dowry that a Black daughter ordinarily cost her kin.
Eliza recounted that in 1979, Regulus Black had died, and less than two years later Sirius had been imprisoned on thirteen counts of murder. These developments, together with Andromeda Black's marriage to the Muggle and the involvement of Bellatrix Black with Death Eaters were too much for old Orion Black. In a fit of rage, he had amended his will to leave the entire Black fortune to his first heir that reached majority without becoming either a Death Eater or a common criminal. Only three days later, the elder Black had suffered an apoplectic stroke, which had left him in a persistent vegetative state.
Orion Black died in December 1981, not long after being stricken. There was some suspicion that his wife Walburga had poisoned him to put him out of his misery, but nothing was ever proven. By operation of law, Mrs. Black received a life estate (property rights for the rest of her life) in Number Twelve Grimmauld Place - the city home that the elderly Blacks had been occupying at the time of Mr. Black's death.
Harry commented about his unpleasant posthumous encounters with Walburga Black's portrait - but he found himself uncomfortably unable to answer Eliza's resulting questions. Number Twelve Grimmauld Place had been the headquarters of the Order, and he did not want to involve her with anything having to do with the Order. Finally, he settled on telling Eliza that her safety could be endangered if she knew more than he wanted to tell her. She sighed and responded, "That's quite alright, Harry. You asked me for information; I didn't ask you."
Eliza continued with the saga of the end of the Black line after a run of almost a millennium. After Walburga Black's death, the succession of the Black Estate was uncertain because of the conditional nature Orion's bequest. Draco Malfoy was the heir apparent, because he was the only male heir of any of the surviving Blacks, but he could not inherit until his seventeenth birthday. Unless Malfoy became a Death Eater, or was convicted of a crime, the Black Estate was for all intents and purposes his - as long as Sirius' conviction remained in place. However, because Sirius had never had a trial, only the Ministry, but not the Wizengamot, recorded his conviction. These questionable circumstances left a cloud over the inheritance, and provided an avenue for a collateral attack upon the "conviction."
Because there was no definite heir to the Black Estate until Malfoy reached his seventeenth birthday and attained majority, management of the estate property fell to the Office of Escheats and Inheritances in the in the Ministry's Law Enforcement department. Theoretically, a Ministry employee administered each uncertain estate. In practice, because the Office of Escheats and Inheritances was something of a bureaucratic backwater and was grossly understaffed, estates of this sort were almost invariably run by whomever had been in charge before the inheritance problem arose. Thus, holdover employees of Walburga Black and her husband had conducted the estate's affairs since her death, subject only to the loosest oversight by the Ministry.
Harry asked how the legal proceedings had begun. Eliza explained that, about three years before she first became involved in the matter, Lucius Malfoy had filed an action for an accounting of the Black Estate's assets on behalf of his son as heir apparent. There was good reason for such an action. The commercial affairs of the Black family had been closed to outsiders for centuries and, as one might expect, the books and accounts were in a state of utter disarray. Many property deeds were missing or long out of date.
There being no rush, the accounting proceedings had stretched Bleak-House-style out for years, to the great emolument of barristers, solicitors, accountants, title searchers, and assorted other legal hangers on. The books of account were by now largely straightened out, but there were issues regarding real property - particularly real property located outside of the British Isles - that might never be resolved. With some trepidation, Harry asked how much money and property were involved.
"You've asked that question to the right person," Eliza smiled weakly as she fidgeted with a Muggle pencil. "My first job out of Hogwarts, after six weeks of vocational training in wizard and Muggle court reporting, was to organise the asset information of the Black case. It was a very dull, tedious, and time-consuming job, so the least senior person - me - got stuck with it. That was my introduction to the case."
Ploughing on, she described how she had found accounts at a half-dozen wizard banks, as well as Muggle banks in Switzerland, Portugal, Liechtenstein, the Cayman Islands, and Barbados. Those accounts were all closed and the assets centralised at Gringotts. After consolidation the Black Estate account at Gringotts contained approximately 185 million Galleons on deposit. At present, it was the largest individual Gringotts account. Aside from money, about seven metric tonnes of gold bullion were transferred to Gringotts, mostly from overseas accounts in Switzerland. Even after deducting about fifty years of bank storage fees, the bullion added another approximately 14 million Galleons to the Black balance sheet, at prevailing conversion rates.
Eliza also told Harry that the Black vault at Gringotts contained the most valuable pieces of the Black family jewellery. The jewellery had not been completely inventoried, due to problems with various and sundry curses. After handling one particularly nasty piece, an accountant died when her brain became a mass of spun gold. Another accountant ended up in the permanent curse damage ward at St. Mungo's, when a curse, believed to be ancient Egyptian in origin, transfigured his head into that of an ibis.
After that, Eliza mentioned that the Black Estate held a variety of stock certificates, many quite ancient and of questionable value. The Blacks originally made their fortune as privateers, and military outfitters, mostly involved in Muggle warfare. As privateers, they sent out ships to sail against Turks, Arabs, and Spaniards under letters of marque and reprisal. As outfitters, the Blacks used magic to make the purest "salt of the rock" in England. The result was "Black's powder" the highest quality explosive then available in Europe. Its purity was such that ultimately the family name and the product itself became synonymous.
She also told the story how the Black family's breach with Muggle society involved them in some historical events. In 1589, at the height of the Armada scare, the Muggles seized the Black family mill in order to create a government gunpowder monopoly. For some fifteen years the Blacks tried, through accepted means of bribery and influence peddling at Court, to obtain either return of their property or compensation. The first King James' repudiation of a solemn promise to compensate the Blacks was the last straw.
Seeking revenge, some Black family members transferred most of their residual stock to some rather dubious Muggles. To further their own agenda, the Muggles promised the Blacks compensation from a new government. Unfortunately for the Blacks (and even more unfortunately for the Muggles), the plot failed in November 1605. The Blacks covered their tracks too skillfully to be directly implicated, but the quality of the powder in the almost two-score barrels discovered beneath the Lord's chamber of Parliament left little doubt of its origin. The Blacks' powerful magic prevented any direct retribution, but thereafter the Black family's disrepute saw them excluded from any direct dealings with the Muggle government in England.
For hundreds of years thereafter, the Blacks largely confined themselves to the maritime trade, so the Black Estate included hundreds of ownership certificates for ships and shipping companies, most of which undoubtedly no longer existed. Under pseudonyms, a couple of Blacks became charter adventurers of the Royal African Company in 1672. There were also assorted gold mining stocks, particularly Brazil and South Africa.
As far as Eliza could determine, after the turn of the Nineteenth Century, the Blacks briefly involved themselves in whaling, but then diversified from the maritime trade into banking and finance. The Black Estate currently owned four of the 23 wizard shares in Gringotts, each share worth about ten million Galleons. She ticked off about 25 million Galleons of additional banking investments in Muggle banks in London, Liverpool and New Castle on Tyne, as well as in Switzerland, America, and Brazil. Harry's brain was swimming at that point, and he asked her to please change the subject.
She switched to real estate. "The Black Estate involves quite a variety of real estate. I assume even you know about the city estate at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place…."
Harry nodded.
Eliza added, "…There is considerable waterfront property along the Thames in London as well. Some of that's been redeveloped into a theme park not far from here."
"What's a theme park?" Harry responded.
"A fancy amusement park," Eliza replied easily, almost before she heard what he had asked.
Harry showed little sign of comprehension. Eliza was surprised, but tried to explain further. "A theme park is a place where there are rides like roller coasters, water slides and Ferris wheels, usually all grouped around some kind of common theme like Walt Disney characters or Legos."
Harry looked thoughtful. Then his brow furrowed, and he remarked in a low voice. "Before I came to Hogwarts, my cousin had a birthday party at one of those."
"You weren't invited, were you?" Eliza asked.
"How did you know?" responded Harry dully.
"You're expression was a dead giveaway," Eliza pointed out. "You looked like I felt when I was four years old, and my friend got a puppy when I didn't."
Somehow, that information failed to cheer him up very much, so she continued discussing the Black fortune. "Anyway, Harry, in the future you will probably be able to buy your own amusement park if that's what you want. As far as other real estate, the Blacks own about seven kilometres of shorefront in the northwest, around Blackpool - which used to be known as `Black's Pool' when it was their own private harbour for several hundred years. There is other maritime property in New Castle and Liverpool…."
"There's considerable foreign real estate as well. On the Mediterranean, there's the wizard side of Monte Carlo."
"What's that?" Harry asked blankly.
"A rather large casino," Eliza told him.
"What's that?" Harry asked again.
"A fancy gambling house," she explained briefly, as Harry pursed his lips in distaste. "And there are properties in America - in New Orleans the Blacks still own most of the land on either side of Poy… Pod…" Eliza stumbled over the pronunciation, "They told me it was spelled P-O-Y-D-R-A-S Street. Anyway, it has all been commercially developed, and the rent revenues are considerable. There's also property in Charleston, South Carolina and some arrangement known as `Brown and Black' in Newport, Rhode Island. In South America there's ranch land near Pernambuco, Brazil, and in Paraguay. Once there was a large estate in Ireland, too, but we determined that it was seized at the time of the establishment of the Irish Free State. Oh, and some abandoned whaling stations on rather inaccessible islands."
"Then there are a strange lot of property deeds that nobody's been able to locate, I think it's because the places no longer exist. I only remember some of those names. There was a dreadful sounding castle in Elmina - good riddance to that one - some kind of estate in a place called Sainte-Domingue - sounds vaguely French - and what the solicitors described as livestock operations in a number of now lost places such as Old Calabar."
"But more important than chasing real estate will-o-wisps, there's the ancestral Black country estate near New Castle - Château Blackwalls - perhaps you've heard of it?"
"No," said Harry, his mind reeling at the description of assets he could well soon own.
"Château Blackwalls is located partly in Lancashire and partly in Yorkshire. I believe it consists of just a bit under 35,000 contiguous hectares. It is one of the largest landed estates left in Britain, and has been in Black hands since the War of the Roses. The Château is the largest British producer of magical herbs and other plants. I'm willing to bet that most of what Professor Sprout doesn't grow herself comes from the place, as well as most of Professor Snape's herbologically related Potions supplies. The Château grows just about everything, from asphodel to wolfsbane. It is also known for magical wine making, both ordinary wines and champagne," helped Eliza.
"Sorry, I've never drunk wine," said Harry. "Don't know the first thing about it."
"Well, that's probably one thing you're probably keen on learning," she told him, ever so slightly frivolously. "The Château's wines are quite famous, and the vintners have mastered magical techniques that allow them to create practically any kind of mental effect you could imagine."
"I dunno," said Harry warily, thinking of his Aunt Marge. "In my experience, those kinds of drinks don't seem to make people very pleasant. I much prefer these smoothies." He took another long sip.
A teenage boy not interested in getting drunk - Eliza smiled and watched Harry for a bit, still pinching herself that somehow here was HARRY POTTER, sitting at her dining room table. She considered following up with the rather odd statements about wine, but thought better of it. Instead she chose to continue describing the Black property. "In addition to agriculture and viniculture, the Château is also known for its elves. Château Blackwalls is the largest breeder of both house-elves and field-elves in…. Eek…!"
Eliza threw up her hands in a largely unsuccessful attempt to shield herself from the fine spray of smoothie bits that filled the air as Harry spat out the contents of what he had been drinking.
"HOUSE ELF BREEDING!?!" sputtered Harry. "Oh, Sweet Merlin, no! It's bad enough that I have to own them, but breeding?"
"Where did you think house-elves came from?" responded Eliza stiffly as she reached for a serviette to try to tidy herself up.
"I don't know what I thought," he replied. "Maybe that they had wives and kids like the rest of us…. I suppose I ought to have known better. One thing I know for sure - Hermione is definitely not going to like this, and she won't let it rest."
"Hermione?" asked Eliza. "You mean Hermione Granger? I remember her vaguely. She was the girl petrified along with my housemate Penny Clearwater in my Sixth Year. She has a reputation as being extraordinarily intelligent. We wondered why she wasn't in Ravenclaw…."
"I can tell you why Hermione isn't in Ravenclaw," Harry said, warming to the subject. "She was petrified just after she figured out that a Basilisk was responsible for the attacks that year - but when she worked that out, she didn't just tell a teacher or anything. No, she had to go out looking for the Basilisk straight away. And she found it, too. That's Gryffindor behaviour."
"Yes, I suppose it is," she said thoughtfully. "And you, I gather, killed the Basilisk. Then the Mandragora restored her…. She nearly tackled you at the feast."
"That's her alright," Harry confirmed. What else he had done, a secret, he had never revealed to anyone - and he did not reveal it now.
Eliza rose to get more smoothies from the refrigerator. "I recently met her, by the way," she commented in a too calm voice. "Just like I did with you, I had to go over her testimony. Is this Hermione your girlfriend like they say in the newspapers?"
"She's my best friend, and she's the most clever person I know, witch or wizard," answered Harry softly. "But she's not my girlfriend - although not for want of my trying," he added in a low monotone. "She's afraid I'd overshadow her own accomplishments. As a result, I don't have any girlfriend…, and the way things are going, it's probably best that I never do."
That statement, and the look on Harry's face, startled Eliza. "That's a horrible thing to say, Harry. You've had so much placed on your shoulders - and at so young an age. Certainly you would like someone to help ease that burden?"
"Only if somebody wants to court death on a regular basis," he muttered, his face clouding further. "Anyway, enough of that…. Oh…!"
He staggered and started talking to himself, suddenly only vaguely aware of where he was or whom he was with. "Must concentrate…. OK, who is it this time…? Not Voldemort…. Scar's not hurting…. Only a couple of others could even attempt over this distance…."
"Harry, what's going on?" Eliza was positively alarmed now. Her guest seemed to be blinking in and out of consciousness. Worse, he had mentioned the name of the Dark Lord. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Through gritted teeth, Harry hissed, "My mind's under attack, must practice Occlumency…. I need to relax…." He sank into a lotus position in the middle of her living/dining room, closed his eyes and concentrated. He opted for a new defensive strategy he had invented following his last visit to Lao Kung. The trick was to envision the sky - a partly sunny, partly cloudy day - and in particular the random white and blue patterns of passing clouds. He intended that, over time, the clouds would gradually become thicker and darker until he would try to end the intrusion forcibly by mentally bringing forth a lightning bolt….
Eliza knew none of this. With one of the most famous wizards in the world suddenly virtually immobilised on the floor in her flat, she was beside herself. Desperate to help him in some way, but having next to no idea what he was doing - all she knew about Occlumency is that it was a N.E.W.T.-level specialised subject she had not dreamed of taking - she considered his plea for calm. From her Muggle CD collection, she selected Beethoven's Ninth Symphony and set it to playing on her stereo. Then she waited, as patiently as she could, for Harry to exorcise whatever mental demon he was facing.
The symphony was midway through its fourth movement when Eliza saw him jerk several times - almost as if having a seizure - and collapse onto the floor. Terrified, she rushed to his side and gathered his heaving frame into her arms. As Harry regained consciousness, she was relieved to see that he was smiling.
"What is that music?" he choked out, slightly glassy-eyed. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard…." Harry's voice trailed off. "I … I guess I've died and gone to heaven. You're … you're an angel … you have to be."
"I'm sure I'm no angel, Harry," Eliza spoke in a wavering voice. "I'm Eliza, and you're still in my flat. Please tell me what's going on. What you're hearing is the Ode to Joy. It's by Beethoven, and I hope you found it sufficiently relaxing to help you with whatever it is you have been doing."
Except for Dudley's interest in classic rock and roll, Harry's relatives had never bothered with music. Nor had there been much music at Hogwarts. "I've never heard music like that. Thank you, Eliza. The music helped inspire me to repel the attack."
"Attack…?" she gasped. "What kind of attack, Harry? Do you need to leave? Do you need me to contact anyone?"
"No," Harry said firmly. "The attack was Legilimency - an invasion of my mind - almost certainly by the same people I would have to tell you to contact. I'm an escapee right now, don't forget. I'm supposed to be under 24-hour watch…, for my own bloody protection they say…, and I've evaded my guard to come here. It wasn't Voldemort, because my scar never hurt. There are only a couple of other people I know who are powerful enough to have a go at long-range Legilimency like that, Dumbledore and maybe Snape. Whoever it was just got a nasty surprise. I imagined a lightning strike and drove the intruder from my mind. I'll be surprised if the person on the receiving end of that will try again anytime soon."
Eliza was shocked. He was discussing Lord Voldemort - the most feared wizard in her lifetime - almost casually, as if he were just another Quidditch adversary. Equally casually Harry had just mentioned the likelihood that he had repulsed some other extremely powerful wizard, either the famous Headmaster Dumbledore or Professor Snape, the scariest member of the Hogwarts staff (with the possible exception of Professor McGonagall on a bad day). Evidently Harry did not think it extraordinary to have repelled either of their magic or possibly to have inflicted considerable magical harm upon either of them. Nor did he seem the least bit upset about that prospect.
"I don't know what to make of you, Harry," Eliza sighed. "On one hand, your magical power and talents are almost inconceivable to me. But on the other, you've never heard of Beethoven…."
"I've never been allowed to be normal, and I probably never will be," he spat in an agitated reply. "Get used to it."
Eliza was somewhat offended by Harry's curt retort. Irritation crept into her voice as she said, "Is there anything more you want to know? I don't think there's much more I can tell you about the Black fortune. I don't know any more about how the Blacks acquired it - something dodgy, I'd reckon."
"That would seem to go with the territory," he sighed dispiritedly. "Can you tell me anything more about the Malfoys and what's going on with the legal proceeding? After that, I should be able to let you live in peace once more," Harry was upset with himself. Once again he had started to lose his temper, and he was embarrassed by it.
"Well, it's all a lot of legal manœuvering that I don't fully understand," Eliza tried to explain. "It started as an action for an accounting of Black Estate assets prosecuted by Lucius Malfoy on behalf of his son. Then, maybe a year ago, Albus Dumbledore as Chief Warlock…. He filed a petition concerning Sirius Black. They got consolidated, since both of the actions implicated the Black inheritance. Then there was a lot of legal jockeying back and forth…. Petitions and counter petitions; writs and præcipes."
Harry's eyebrows skyrocketed. "Dumbledore? He filed a petition about Sirius…? Whatever for?"
"It was a petition seeking Wizengamot intervention to bring about Black's exoneration from the original criminal charges. Why he needed to file a private action to get action from a body he supposedly led, I've never figured out," Eliza remarked with a puzzled expression. "All I know is that Dumbledore's petition alleged that Sirius was innocent; and that his conviction for the murder of Peter Pettigrew was invalid. The averments appeared quite barmy then - that Pettigrew was still alive after all these years; that he was really an unregistered Animagus with a rat form; and that he was responsible for not only the deaths of … er … your parents, but also of all the people Sirius supposedly killed…."
As Harry was hearing this, it seemed like the room started to spin. Blood rushed to his head and he began to sense a roaring in his ears, although he still heard every word she said - as clear as day. He was simply amazed at what he was hearing. To avoid another outburst in front of Eliza, he had to bite his tongue until it practically bled.
Dumbledore? He did that? The implications were staggering.
This was the same Dumbledore who, during Third Year, had told him that without evidence, what he, Ron, and Hermione had discovered about all the injustices visited upon Sirius would never be believed. Yet Dumbledore himself quite evidently had done one thing whilst saying quite the opposite. Not only had he believed their story, but the Headmaster had felt sufficiently strongly about it that he had started his own legal action to try to uncover proof.
Harry fumed. Dumbledore was hiding from him even things of which he would have heartily approved - had he but known. And he had a right to know!
"What went on was all hush-hush," Eliza explained. "Once Dumbledore filed his action, the Ministry summarily sealed the entire proceeding. There was no good reason for it - only that Dumbledore's position conflicted with Fudge's public stance. After that, things stretched out for years, as the Ministry dragged its feet…. That wasn't hard for Fudge to do. Everyone, even me, thought initially that the whole thing was a crock, a cock and bull story…. I'm sure you saw the press reports last year with the implication, if not the outright accusation, that Dumbledore was losing touch with reality…."
"Yeah, that I saw," Harry allowed. "I almost agreed with them - although never about Sirius…. It was about then that everyone, not just at the Ministry, but a fair number at the Castle too, started to abandon Dumbledore. I'll bet that this suit was a big reason that so many of those in the Ministry were thinking that Dumbledore had lost his touch…."
"There sure was a lot of that…," Eliza agreed.
"I'm sure Fudge was behind it - the berk," Harry mumbled. At last some of the pieces of this huge puzzle were starting to fit together.
"He undoubtedly was," Eliza agreed sympathetically. "Dumbledore took on a lot of water at first, but the suit allowed him to demand the production and interrogation of Sirius' wand. He turned out to be right; after all … the most important piece of any Wizard's defense to charges of that sort is always his wand…. Both the Ministry and the Malfoys put up every procedural roadblock known to man, but because Dumbledore pressed on, nothing worked for them in the end. Finally, after many months of delay, the Ministry was forced to admit that Black's … Sirius' … wand had gone missing since shortly after his arrest…."
"That, I knew about," Harry said, trying but failing to sound casual. "Please go on."
"Well," Eliza continued, "they had to bring back old Bartemius Crouch himself to testify about the disappearance of that wand. That happened maybe eighteen months ago, maybe less … I'm not good with dates - just before he disappeared. I'm not sure anybody ever saw him after that…."
Harry knew she was wrong about that - but he had no desire to revisit that part of his life - especially when he was learning really useful information. So he kept quiet.
She described Crouch's testimony. "In his view, the wand's disappearance was one more piece of evidence that Sirius Black had been in league with Death Eaters … and that there were still spies in the Ministry. They were trying to conceal what Black had done by making off with his wand…. For that reason, Crouch said that he had ordered Black sent straight to Azkaban without a trial."
Harry was trying hard not to embarrass himself by losing his temper again. But he knew one thing. It was a good thing that Barty Crouch was dead, because it kept him, Harry, out of trouble … the trouble of maybe killing the man himself….
Not noticing the hard look that had come - and gone - from Harry's face, Eliza continued her narrative. "Then, and for most of the time that these lawsuits were pending, the Malfoys hadn't really had to do anything, save throw an occasional procedural spanner in the works. They were content to be spectators whilst the Ministry stonewalled Dumbledore's action and tied everything up in legalistic knots. But you changed that, Harry…."
"I-I did?" he asked skeptically. "I didn't even know about any of this…."
"It doesn't matter, Harry," she said. "Have you ever heard of the law of unintended consequences?"
The blank look on his face was enough to tell her that he had not.
"You see, the whole situation with the litigation was knocked into a cocked hat when your trip to the Ministry resulted in Lucius Malfoy's arrest," she told him. "Arthur Weasley led a Ministry raid on Malfoy Manor followed almost immediately after his Death Eater status was revealed. Somehow the Aurors had got wind that there was a hidden chamber beneath the drawing room in the manor…."
"Er … You can credit me for that - me and Ron Weasley, that is," Harry admitted. "That's how Ron's dad knew…. We learnt about that chamber from… Umm…, I probably shouldn't tell you more about that, either. Again, it's something that could endanger you. But anyway, I'm glad that information finally came in handy…."
"Dead useful it was," replied Eliza, frowning slightly at this encounter with yet another of Harry's mysteries. "The Ministry apparently found quite a few things in that chamber. Rumour has it that the raid uncovered evidence that He Who Must Not Be Named himself had been living there…."
"I wouldn't put anything past Lucius Malfoy," the boy commented.
"…But the biggest effect on the Black proceeding was that Sirius Black's original wand turned up," Eliza revealed. "Either Lucius Malfoy had stolen it himself or gotten somebody to do it for him."
Harry gritted his teeth, hard. That was something even he had not considered … that the elder Malfoy was behind the disappearance of Sirius' wand. But there it was - yet another reason for him to hate the Malfoys with even more passion than before.
"Well," Eliza continued, "Dumbledore demanded possession, custody, and control of Black's wand. I know he's had it tested. Various writs that were filed describe how his people had to scour the whole continent, until recently a brother wand turned up. I gather from the most recent papers that the testing's now complete and that Dumbledore's pleased with the outcome. The final results aren't in yet, but…. I think he's saving them for the end…."
"Do you know anything about what they've found out?" Harry asked. Fortune or no, he wanted to help Sirius clear his name, if there was anything he could do.
Eliza sighed. She was disclosing more and more confidential information, even a bit of which could get her sacked. "The offer of proof Dumbledore recently submitted stated that, with the brother wand, they ran a Priori incantatem inquiry of Black's wand…."
"Please," Harry requested, "call him Sirius…. It's strange and unsettling for me to hear him referred to by his last name … like that…."
"I'm sorry, Harry," Eliza apologised, "but he's almost always called `Black' in the hearings…. And he's thought of as a fugitive killer."
"Well, he's not," Harry grunted. "He's a good man who was framed."
"That's what's been coming out recently," Eliza hastened to add. "Dumbledore's camp is claiming that Priori incantatem proves that … er … Sirius … never cast the spell that killed all the Muggles. And there's more … Lucius testified under Veritaserum that Peter Pettigrew was still alive, so obviously he couldn't have been murdered…."
"Him, you can call by his surname," Harry instructed.
"I'll try," Eliza agreed. "Again, it's been just the opposite at the hearings. Anyway, Malfoy said that Pettigrew had recovered Voldemort's wand after whatever it was you did to him back in 1981 - and almost immediately gave it to him for safekeeping…."
"I want to kill him," Harry said grimly.
"Harry, it's not your place to be judge, jury, and executioner," Eliza reproached him. "Even for someone so foul as Lucius Malfoy…."
Harry bit his tongue and said nothing, even though he had meant Pettigrew rather than Malfoy (although both were outstanding candidates). Truthfully, he had been rather over the top - but she sounded so … so Hermione-ish … when she scolded him like that.
"Anyway, after that, Malfoy said that he assumes Pettigrew must have faked his own death. All those Muggles that … Sirius was blamed for killing died … I have to believe now … as cover for Pettigrew's escape. At some later point, Pettigrew must have retrieved Voldemort's wand - but not even Malfoy knows how…."
"I can guess," growled Harry, getting up to pace about.
"So could Malfoy," Eliza replied. "Malfoy didn't know how or when, but he suspected that Pettigrew had broken into Malfoy Manor as a rat…. I guess the remarkable conclusion is that every crazy thing that Dumbledore had alleged in his petition has either proven true or is well on its way toward being proven."
"Whatever else anyone can say about Dumbledore," Harry observed, "barmy, he's not."
"So we've all been reminded," Eliza agreed heartily. "But you should know that the collapse of the criminal case against … Sirius … caused an abrupt change in the Malfoys' legal tactics. With the defense of Sirius' conviction falling apart, they could no longer count on winning the case at that stage. Recently they've been filing papers that specifically attack your fitness as an heir to the Black fortune."
"And I don't know anything about this?" he angrily asked nobody. "I'm being dragged through the mud without my knowledge…?"
"I'm afraid so, Harry," Eliza conceded. "This attack has several prongs. The Malfoys' latest motion claims that Orion Black was temporarily insane - what they call non compos mentis - and thus not legally competent when he had revised his will. There've also been papers filed claiming that you, personally, should be held incompetent to inherit because you're prone to sudden attacks and fainting spells. I'm sure you're familiar with at least some of this, as the basis for this claim is what that Rita Skeeter wrote in those nasty Daily Prophet articles … which are all attached as exhibits, by the way…."
"If it weren't that it would all go to Malfoy, being thought crazy wouldn't be that bad - if it could get rid of that money," Harry wished.
"I don't know that you should think that way," Eliza contradicted him. "Because it only gets worse. The Malfoys are also claiming that the Black will can't be enforced the way it was written because that would create a situation that's prima facie … on its face … against the presumed intent of the testator, Orion Black. You see, the Blacks' devotion to purity of blood was notorious…."
"Yeah, I know," Harry broke in, "Toujours pur and all that…."
"Precisely," Eliza agreed. "So the Malfoys are arguing that to allow you to inherit the Black fortune would likely place it under the influence of non-purebloods. That's one of the reasons I asked about Hermione Granger earlier…. The Malfoys are now alleging that you're romantically involved with her. They claim that for any half-blood offspring of your supposed union to inherit the Black Estate would be anathema to everything that the Orion, Walburga, and the rest of the Black family have represented for generations."
At the mention of Hermione being dragged into all this, Harry pinched his thigh and bit down so hard that his clenched jaw muscles created a high-pitched ringing in his ears. Eliza paused and looked askance at him, so he inhaled and said, "Please continue," in an unnaturally even voice.
"All right," Eliza uncomfortably agreed, "but I warn you that even blood libel has not been the most controversial allegation in the Malfoy papers. The last claim they have made has caused a positive uproar…. At the mere mention of it, the magistrate threw everyone out and had immediately convened a Star Chamber proceeding. The upshot was that part of that Malfoy motion was immediately stricken from the official record of the case…. But more than that, the magistrate ordered it burned on the spot…. Something I've never seen, or even heard of, being done."
"What the Hell was that about, then," Harry asked, girding himself mentally for the worst.
"The Malfoys have claimed that joining the Black assets with your own `extraordinary and dangerous' magical abilities will create a combination too powerful for wizarding society to tolerate…. Er.…" She looked like she was not sure she should even say this. "…Because of your claimed questionable sanity and your supposedly Dark propensities."
"What did he say about me exactly?" Harry asked deliberately.
"I don't understand the magical significance," Eliza confessed. "But what I remember is that the motion claimed you were something like a Fifth-Element elemental, whatever that is. I had no idea what was going on, but as soon as that claim was made everybody started shouting at once. Some bloke from the Department of Mysteries was screaming about state security. The Aurors closed the courtroom and all non-essential personnel were ordered out. Even I had to leave, and my notes of transcription were confiscated. That's all I know, I'm sorry…."
Harry was nonplussed. He had no idea what a Fifth-Element elemental might be. He did not even know that there was a Fifth Element. Snape had taught them about magical elements in Potions, and Harry understood that there were four - earth, water, air and fire. Whilst they were studying for O.W.L.s, Hermione had told him that the concept of four elements dated back to the ancient Greeks. Whatever the Malfoys' claim was, though, it sounded very important and very controversial. The more he thought, the more annoyed Harry became because, once again, Dumbledore had not breathed a word about any of this to him.
Harry got up and went to the window with the breathtaking view. He was running out of questions to ask, but at the same time was not ready to face the reception he knew would be awaiting him upon his return to Privet Drive….
"Where are Surrey and Knightsbridge from here?" he asked.
"Surrey's that way, and fairly far away," Eliza told him. "Knightsbridge is a little further to the right, and not nearly so far." She also pointed out her directions.
Harry took off his ring, placed it on his wand, and whispered an incantation that she could not hear.
"What are you doing now?" she asked. Harry's magic was far more complex than she had ever seen done by anybody other than Hogwarts professors.
"I'm locating Hermione," Harry said blankly. "Good, at least she's still at home. They haven't come for her yet."
"Who's coming for her?" asked Eliza, getting a little worried again.
"My keepers - Dumbledore and his supporters," said Harry matter-of-factly. "She has the same kind of ring, and what I just did to locate her, she could do to locate me. But I have her promise that she won't help them."
"Are you sure there's nothing going on between you and Hermione Granger?" asked Eliza. "That's the second time you've mentioned her of your own accord in the last hour. She seems to be the only girl you think about."
"I'm sure there's nothing romantic. I would know that, at least," Harry replied. "I'm not very good at relationships, but even I'm not that daft."
"There's just so much feeling there," Eliza commented. "I can sense it. You're sure she doesn't see you that way? You did ask her, didn't you?"
Harry blanched, but hoped he had kept it hidden from Eliza. Truth be told, he never had exactly asked her, although in his opinion her response to his unasked question could not have been clearer. "Of course," he lied.
"If you say so," Eliza remarked, airily. "You'll be getting your chance to testify about it under oath soon enough, I'm sure."
"WHAT!?!" Harry squeaked. The pinched look on his face amply matched his voice, which abruptly rose by an octave. "I'll be damned if I'm going to explain myself and Hermione to anyone. That's very complicated - and personal."
"I'm sure you'll be asked when you testify," Eliza warned, "since it's now one of the main points of Malfoy's opposition papers. Most of Draco Malfoy's recent testimony was on this subject, although it's all his speculation of course."
"Son of a biscuit," Harry shuddered. "What did he say about me - about us?"
Eliza revealed, "Well, after that Draco Malfoy briefly went through how he had satisfied the conditions of Orion Black's will - that he was neither a Death Eater nor a common criminal - practically all the rest of his several hours of testimony were about you, and about you and Granger, mostly. Not only did he restate all of the horrible things that Skeeter witch had ever said about you two, but he also offered his informed opinion that you and she had been romantically involved off and on since the end of your Third Year…."
"That's … That's just … not true!" Harry spluttered.
"Harry, I believe you," Eliza pointed out. "I'm just telling you what he said," she protested, "and I should know, since I've only just finished transcribing it. Draco Malfoy testified that during the final task of the Triwizard Tournament, you hexed Viktor Krum because you were jealous that he was dating Hermione…."
"I did hex Krum, but not for that reason," Harry couldn't help but saying. "Er … I can't tell you what the real reason was, though; that's private too…."
"Well, you had best think of some way to describe what happened that's better than that, Harry," she said sharply. "Or you could lose…."
"I'll try," he stated.
"And it had better be the truth, too," she challenged him. "Because you'll most likely be under Veritaserum," she warned.
"And Malfoy won't be?" Harry replied, still upset.
"No, he won't be," Eliza answered. "He's got bloody Pureblood Privilege - which gives him carte blanche to lie if he wants to."
"Anyway," she continued. "That Draco claimed that you and Hermione had … er … become intimate … during the previous year. You were having some sort of unauthorised defence meetings that you two supposedly organised as a ruse. He says that after those meetings the two of you trysted in something called the Room of Requirement. I've never heard of that, but that doesn't mean much…. Malfoy told the proceeding that Hermione had hexed Marietta Edgecombe because Marietta had caught the pair of you en flagrante … er … in the act. He claimed that she told Professor Umbridge what was going on, and one or the other of you put some kind of curse…."
Harry's temper had been flaring throughout Eliza's description of Draco's graphically mendacious testimony. Eventually, his anger was white hot and scarcely concealed. Eliza, however, became so involved in telling this part of the story that she failed to notice Harry's state - until all six glasses, two plates, and one serving tray that had been on the table between them simultaneously shattered with great force. Half of her flat was now covered in sharp shards of glass, bits of residual smoothie, and pizza crumbs.
"Harry! Stop that this instant!!" Eliza screamed, half angered and half frightened by his impressive display of spontaneous, wandless magic. "I will not have you trashing my apartment because you asked for the truth but can't handle it! I should think you'd be thankful to be hearing about this ahead of time, rather than be ambushed with it when it comes your turn to testify. If you can't control yourself, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
Eliza's emphatic rebuke deflated Harry's temper straight away. He was now embarrassed almost beyond words. Once again he had lost control of himself, and now he was on the verge of driving away a very rare person - someone who not only had been truthful, but who had gone out of her way to help him when she had absolutely no reason to make that effort.
"I'm so sorry. I'm nothing but a git. I just can't seem to help myself." Words of abject apology poured out of Harry's mouth, almost tripping over one another. "Let me clean it up. Reparo. Reparo."
He pointed his wand where each of the unfortunate glasses had once stood. Unfortunately all the broken glass was so intermingled that his very nervously performed repairing spells left quite a bit to be desired.
"Scourgify." His cleaning spell was less complicated and therefore performed better. "I'm so sorry about your glassware." Harry fumbled with his wallet and laid two £50 notes on the table. "Here, this should cover it."
Eliza glared at him. "Stop being foolish, Harry. One hundred pounds for that crockery is so extravagant that it feels like a bribe. I don't want your money … I've got enough. What I want is for you to control yourself. You're just too powerful to be going on like this. This is a recipe for tragedy. One day you're really going to hurt someone when you don't intend it. At best, you'll suffer a personal loss. At worst, you could face Azkaban. You have to be careful with your magic. You don't know your own strength."
She continued. "Now, do you have any more questions?"
Harry dreaded that moment, because he knew he couldn't think of anything more to ask. The clock on Eliza's wall told him it was only a little past three in the afternoon yet. He was not at all ready to go back to his not-so-gilded cage.
"Truthfully, I can't think of any more," Harry confessed. "I'm sure you're keen on chucking me out and getting on with your day, but I'm still not ready to face the consequences of what I did to get here. Could you show me a map of how to get back to where I was? I think I'd just like to walk. I've never been on my own in London before. And you've given me a lot to think about while I walk - for which I'll always be grateful - even if I don't seem to…."
Eliza had trouble believing what she was seeing and hearing. Harry Potter - the Boy Who Lived, the toast of the wizard community, and very likely a soon-to-be multimillionaire - seemed as alone and forlorn as anyone she had ever met. "Harry, I'm not keen to chuck you out. I just thought that you must have so many things to do, now that I've told you all I can."
"Not today," he sighed. "All I've got to look forward to today is being punished for escaping from my handlers. But whatever they do to me, I'm going to give them a piece of my mind. I still can't believe how much they've never told me."
They sat in silence whilst Eliza considered the situation. Then she had an idea. Harry had loved the music. She would play some more - and he could watch as well. "I know," she said. She strode purposefully to her considerable collection of videos. She selected the American classic Fantasia. Not only did it contain an entire concert of classical music, but the music was animated as well. "I think you'll like this," she said, smiling at him.
He did. Indeed, he was enthralled. He had never seen - or (before today) heard anything like that before. "I'm sorry I missed the images that went with the Beethoven."
"Don't be silly, Harry, the Beethoven music wasn't illustrated like this," Eliza chided.
"Why not?" He said guilelessly. "I think this is smashing."
"Because the Beethoven was simply for listening to," Eliza said, trying to avoid sounding too patronising. "This is not only music but also a movie - from the cinema."
Harry nodded rotely and turned his focus back to the intriguing animation. Eliza was getting restless so she decided to make them a snack in the microwave. A few minutes after she got back, Harry heard a faint pop, like a house-elf arriving. He tensed, and when he heard several more pops, his wand was almost instantly in his hand. "Impedimenta!" Harry roared, pointing the wand over his shoulder. The spell flashed as his wand danced. He pushed her down below the top of the davenport and spun around, wand at ready.
"Harry! What…? How…? Why did you do that?" Eliza sputtered. He had forced her face-first into the cushions.
"I heard what sounded like something Apparating into your kitchen," Harry whispered. "I still hear it, but I don't see anything."
"Harry," said Eliza, sounding both annoyed and relieved. "All you heard was the sound of Muggle popcorn popping in my microwave. I like eating popcorn when I watch movies. Now, do you like butter on your popcorn or not?"
Harry was abashed. He quickly removed the useless restraining spell and stowed his wand. "I don't know," he answered truthfully.
"Where did your wand go?" she asked softly, almost as if she were talking to herself.
"Auror wrist wand holster - it's invisible too," he replied casually. "Can't be too careful. I can't be fumbling in my robes for my wand when facing Death Eaters."
"Harry, you're full of surprises, most of them unsettling." She shuddered as she got up to check the popcorn.
Fortunately Harry had not hexed or otherwise ruined the Muggle popcorn. Eliza preferred butter, so she made it that way. Soon she and Harry were sitting on the davenport giggling over Mickey Mouse's totally inept attempts to perform magic - until the Dumbledore figure had to come to the rescue. He was much more relaxed and happy now, munching away at popcorn and watching a rare video from beginning to end. "So, is this what it's like at the cinema?" he asked Eliza casually, his mouth full of hot buttered popcorn, and bits of popcorn spilling down his shirt.
"Oh no, Harry," Eliza began. "In the cinema, you sit in the dark and watch on a big… Harry, you've never been to the cinema, have you?"
"No I haven't," he said a little more tensely.
Eliza mumbled softly as she processed this last bit of information. "No cinema, no amusement parks, no pizza - obviously never been on a motorbike before…."
"Harry, have you ever gone to the seaside?"
"No."
"Have you ever skipped rocks?"
"No, what's that?"
"Have you ever been to a restaurant?"
"Not inside. My Aunt and Uncle always made me stay in the car."
"Have you ever thrown a Frisbee?"
"No. Fanged Frisbees are on Filch's forbidden list at Hogwarts."
"Have you ever been to the circus?"
"No."
"Have you ever been to a play - or to a concert?"
"No," Harry said a little more sharply. He was getting uncomfortable with this line of inquiry. It made him feel like an inexperienced fool, and that struck a little too close to home.
"Have you ever climbed a tree?"
"Once, when I was being chased by my Aunt Marge's dog."
"Have you ever watched the sky for shooting stars?"
"Again, no. What are you on about all of a sudden?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry," Eliza said reluctantly. "It's just… It's just that I'm surprised that the Boy Who Lived never really has."
"And what's that supposed to mean?" he snapped. "I've never been normal. I'm sorry but I've had Voldemort out to kill me since before I could walk. I never knew my parents. I spent most of my childhood locked up in a cupboard beneath the stairs with only spiders for company. My relatives would prefer that I not exist. And the few people who ever actually loved me keep having this nasty habit of getting killed…. Don't look at me that way. I don't want and don't need your pity."
Such pity as Eliza had started to feel for Harry's circumstances vanished with that last comment. "I'm not offering you any pity," she replied waspishly. "You don't need mine. You seem to have more than enough of that for yourself." In a much softer tone she added, "I was thinking of maybe something a little more practical."
"Like what," Harry grunted.
"How about companionship?" Eliza responded, smiling at him now.
"Wha…?"
"It's just…. I don't have anyone to go places with at the moment, and you…. You have never had a chance to do normal things, even Muggle things." Eliza started talking faster now, in stream of consciousness style. "Harry, my best guess is that you're going to win your case. The Minister has switched sides now, and you're a lot more popular than you were. That means that you've only got a few months before you become a slave to all that money and property. I was thinking, maybe you'd like to … you know … spend that time doing some normal things with me."
She had done it. She had gotten all of that out before losing her nerve.
Harry paused and looked at her like he had never seen her before. Her offer was not only unexpected, it was practically incomprehensible to him. Here was a chance - at least for a while - to be just plain Harry rather than a hero, a symbol, a target, or a weapon. That prospect was very attractive to him, and come to think of it, so was Eliza. "Yes, I'd like that. I'd like that very much."
"Great," she beamed. She swept into her bedroom. "I'll just be a minute. Then we can go."
"Go where?" Harry asked.
"Out."
Eliza quickly reappeared, dressed in lighter and more practical clothes than the ones she wore for riding her motorbike. "Come on, let's go." She spotted an ordinary red plastic Frisbee lying in the corner near the door. She picked it up. "Catch." She threw it at Harry.
He dropped it.
The unusually hot and hazy day had progressed into a hot and muggy late afternoon, with a touch of thunder in the air. Eliza got a Daily Mail from a news agency and perused it. "Harry, would you prefer a serious movie or…." Her voice trailed off as she looked at the ads. "Don't bother answering, Harry. I'll pick this first time. I don't feel like doing anything serious today. And for that, there's nothing better than a rip roaring Yank shoot-em-up. You can sit back and watch somebody else try to save the world for a change."
For about a half an hour, the two of them tossed the Frisbee back and forth on the greensward across the street from Eliza's flat. Harry quickly got better at throwing the disc, although she rather suspected that he was, consciously or unconsciously, using magic to direct it. It was asking too much of coincidence to believe that one of Harry's wild throws simply bounced off a moving artic lorry, a tree branch, and an electrical wire before landing safely in her hands.
They walked about four blocks to a cinema playing "Independence Day." They loaded themselves with theatre junk food, and spent the next two or so hours in fantasy land watching the Yanks battle some nasty aliens. Eliza did not really like the newer cinemas in Canary Wharf very much. They had too much air conditioning, and she was cold in her light summer clothes. She leaned closer to Harry. Eliza smiled to herself when she felt his arm tentatively inching across the top of her chair. She reached her right hand around back of her, grabbed Harry's hand, and decisively brought his arm down around her.
Harry was relieved beyond words. He wasn't going to "do a Dudley" and end up with his hand in her drink.
"That was really amazing," he enthused as they were leaving. "Don't American wizards have laws like we do that forbid performing magic in front of the Muggles?"
Eliza gave him an affectionate shove. "That wasn't magic, silly. Those were Hollywood special effects."
Next, she took Harry a couple of blocks down a side street, where they had dinner at an Indian restaurant. After gorging themselves on keema and curry, they walked hand in hand to the Canary Wharf Underground. With the sun now setting, it really was time for him to go home and face the music.
"I hope you got what you wanted - and what you needed," she said as they separated.
"I did, and…. And you are," Harry replied. Eliza leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "Ring me up when you've got some free time," she whispered, "and we'll get together for some more `normal' activities."
As he left, Harry felt very confused, conflicted, and euphoric all at the same time.
* * * *
The closer Harry came to Privet Drive, the more the joy of his last few hours with Eliza evaporated. It was hardly the first time that he had dreaded going to his relatives' house - indeed he had scarcely felt otherwise for several years. However, tonight was the first time that the Dursleys themselves did not factor into his dread. As he changed from the Tube to the rail to the bus (no Knights Bus ride for a fugitive from the Order), Harry thought less and less of Eliza and more and more about what she had told him. His fury at being kept in the dark, after two promises from Dumbledore, returned and smouldered.
He was in no hurry. He used no magic whatever on his return trip. The heavy, damp, muggy air that surrounded Harry during the twenty or so minutes he trudged home from the bus stop fit his mood perfectly. He went over his newfound knowledge again and again: the Malfoy connection, Draco Malfoy's libel, the litigation to clear Sirius, the almost incomprehensible value of the Black inheritance, breeding house-elves, the Fifth Element….
Harry spotted the contingent waiting on the ordinarily immaculate front garden at Number Four Privet Drive before anyone there paid any attention to the lone figure trudging along the pavement on the opposite side of the street. In the questionable illumination cast by one street light and the Dursleys' garden lamp were Dumbledore and McGonagall, who were having what appeared to be a heated discussion with Hermione. Remus and Bill Weasley were chatting together, but warily watching Hermione. Kingsley was standing in his maroon Auror's robes deep in discussion with Moody and a several other Aurors whom Harry could not identify in the poor lighting. Tonks was by herself pacing with her head down. Professor Snape - (Snape!) - was sitting in a lawn chair with Madam Pomfrey leaning over him. There were no lights on in the Dursley house itself.
Hermione was the first to recognise Harry. She shouted and pointed in his direction as everyone's head started to turn. An instant later, Moody, wand out, Apparated just in front of him. But the old man was not quick enough. Before Mad Eye could bring his own wand to ready, he found himself staring straight at Harry's glowing wandpoint. "I wouldn't if I were you," Harry intoned in a measured, but deadly, voice.
"Wouldn't dream of it, Potter," Moody replied, his ravaged face twisted into an odd half-smile. "Yeh've right well learned how ta use that Auror's holster, I see. The others will have plenty of questions, I'm sure, but I've only one. What's the first principle of elementary wand safety I taught yeh?"
Harry relaxed just a bit as he realised that, even in this situation, Mad Eye was following proper Auror identification techniques. "Don't carry my wand in my back pocket," he replied, adding, "As you can see, I don't."
Moody pocketed his wand and shouted to the others, "It's him."
Harry kept his wand out, and furtively muttered "Protego reversis" to cast a special protection spell on himself. He still was not sure what kind of reception to expect. Everybody started talking at once -
"Mister Potter, thank Merlin you are safe…."
"…it's about time you got back. I tried to tell them…."
"…Harry, I demand to know where you've.…"
"…This has been most irresponsible, Potter.…"
"Quiet!!" Harry yelled. "I've been out, OK. Now I'm back. I'm going inside, and I really don't want to talk about it."
Bill stepped forward, "Harry, it's not that simple. You've committed a serious breach, running off like this without telling anyone anything. As your guardian, I have to know what you've done and why."
Harry's eyes reflexively narrowed, but he had to admit that Bill had a point. After all, he had personally agreed to place himself under Bill's supervision. "Like I said, I've been out. I haven't gotten into any duels or used magic in front of any Muggles. I spent some time at a library. In short, I've been a good boy. There's no law that says I have to allow myself to be followed every minute of every day - and I'm not going to!"
"Harry, it's not your say that governs, it's mine," said Bill in a slightly raised voice of his own. "I don't believe that I was unclear before, but if I was, I'm going to make myself perfectly clear now. You are not to be going off unsupervised. It's dangerous; you know it; and I won't permit it."
Dumbledore spoke up, "Mister Potter, you know Voldemort is after you, and I have told you why. That is why you are getting all this extra training and all these extra privileges…."
"You bloody well tell me only what you want me to know!" he angrily shot back. "And that's all! I'm just a tool to you, like every other person here! Anything inconvenient you just keep to yourself - even though you've promised me twice to tell me everything!" Harry pointed to Hermione whilst continuing to scream at the Headmaster. "You're quite content to let the effing Malfoys drag Hermione's name through the mud aren't you? To let me testify without having the slightest idea what slime I'm going to be hit with!" Harry advanced upon Dumbledore.
"Harry, what on earth are you talking about?" Hermione shrieked. "Harry!!!…"
"Stupefy!" A bolt of red light soared towards Harry from his left and slightly behind him. It bounced of Harry's protective shield and rebounded on its caster. A maroon robed Auror toppled over.
"Bad move, Scrimgeour," Mad Eye muttered. "Harry's been in training a hell of a lot more recently than yeh. Blimey…."
The instant the stunner hit his shield, Harry had flung himself to the grass and rolled to his right. Whilst rolling he aimed a volley of spells at the other Aurors who had been standing with their boss, Rufus Scrimgeour. In a few seconds, it was over. Four other uniformed Aurors were scattered across the Dursleys' garden. One was on his hands and knees, retching uncontrollably. Another was on the ground with the Dursleys' letterbox on her head. A third was planted headfirst among the Dursleys' begonias, his legs in the air with his robes in a heap on the ground, baring his unmentionables. In his case, the question "boxers or briefs" was definitively answered.
Kingsley Shacklebolt, the fourth Auror, was completely unharmed, but surrounded by the snake-like coils of a live power line ripped from the poles that ran down the street. The line hovered inches away from his body, spitting sparks from its severed end.
With a shriek, Madam Pomfrey left Professor Snape and rushed to the shattered Aurors.
Power to the entire neighbourhood had been interrupted. All the lights in the area went out. No moon or stars were visible in the cloudy sky. The only light came from Harry's glowing wandtip. It was no longer glowing white, but was changing colours prismatically with the movements of his arm, which was shaking ever so slightly.
Kingsley could not see anything. Still he boomed in his best command voice, "Everyone, hold your fire! That's a direct order. Harry, please stop. I know it may not seem like it right now, but we are on your side…."
Hermione chimed in, "Harry, for the love of Merlin restrain yourself. This is only making things harder…."
Harry slowly got to his feet, breathing hard and his wand at the ready. He backed away deliberately; until he was sure he had everyone in his field of vision. He slowly pointed his wand at the writhing mass of cable that surrounded Kingsley. "Finite," he said. The power line flew back to the poles, reconnected, and the outdoor lights came back on.
"On my side?" Harry spat. "Bloody well doesn't look like it! Attacked from behind, Death Eater style. Why even the Death Eaters - some of them - have more ethics than that. That dolt deserves to be turned into a bouncing ferret. I'd do it myself, except I don't know how - yet." In the shadows, Professor McGonagall blushed.
"Can you please revive my colleagues?" Kingsley asked with urgency in his voice. Everything had happened so fast that he did not know exactly what spells Harry had used.
"Only if you get them the bloody Hell out of here!" Harry shouted. "I'm not in the mood for another attack."
"I'll do my best, Harry, I promise," pleaded Kingsley.
Harry uttered several Finites. The remaining Aurors began staggering to their feet, still significantly worse for wear. Shacklebolt addressed Scrimgeour, who was Chief Auror. "Request permission to speak freely, sir."
"Granted," mumbled Scrimgeour, still shaking the cobwebs from his brain.
"Sir, things are now under control. Potter has been found. I suggest that it would be a good idea - a very good idea - if you took your men and returned to headquarters, so that we can restore the anti-Apparition wards here," Shak pleaded. "The Code Red needs to be cancelled, and there are quite a few persons who need to be notified. If you move quickly, perhaps you can catch Minister Fudge before he leaves for Chequers and Sandringham…. Summer, you know."
"Scrimgeour, get yer bloody arse out of here before yeh make a bad situation even worse," Moody growled. "Yeh saw what happened at the Ministry. Yeh should have known that Dumbledore can take care of himself."
"Too right," Scrimgeour grunted. "Men, let's be off. Carry on Captain Shacklebolt." With that, the squad of Aurors Disapparated and were gone.
When they left, Harry flicked his hand and his wand returned to its wrist holster. He addressed himself to the one person he was certain was entirely on his side. "Hermione, you've been lied to just like me. You've no idea what bloody Malfoy is trying to do to you. He's going to make you out as some sort of gold digging slag. And all of them" - Harry made a sweeping gesture at the various adults present - "were just going to let it happen without telling either of us. We didn't even knew that we had to defend ourselves."
Hermione gasped, not sure what to say. She was quite aware that he had switched from second person singular to first person plural in the middle of his statement. This was surely significant, but she lacked time to consider it. Before she could speak, Bill cut in.
"Harry, I don't know what you think you've learnt, or from where - but right now you and I have to settle this serious breach of your responsibilities. You have to promise me that this is the last time that you'll ever go off unannounced and unguarded.…"
"And if I don't feel like promising…?" Harry sneered.
"Then you'll be grounded," Bill snapped. "Not allowed to leave your house, period."
"You can't ground me!" Harry yelled. "You don't have the power. I know how to Apparate now!"
"You are grounded until further notice!" Bill yelled right back at Harry. "I'll have Dumbledore reinforce the anti-Apparition wards around your house. If you continue, I'll have to ask the Ministry to revoke your special dispensations!"
"You wouldn't dare!" Harry screamed; his temper ready to explode. "It would interfere with my bloody training. I can't be the Order's damned weapon against Voldemort unless I train!"
"Then you're grounded except for going to and from your Auror training," spluttered Bill, trying rather poorly to improvise. "Other than that, you can sit here and stew until you come to your senses and agree to reasonable limits on your actions!"
"Well I'm just chuffed," growled Harry. "You're worse than the damned Dursleys, you know that…!" Then he stopped. He got a gleam in his eye, and smiled nastily. "Alright, I'm grounded! Nothing but training, and my cell here. You can go tell your frigging goblin friends to sod off then! I've bloody well had it with doing things for other people who turn around and do nothing for me but treat me like a mushroom!"
"A mushroom?" said Bill, nonplussed.
"Kept in the dark and fed shit!" Harry retorted. One of Dudley's sayings had finally come in handy. He started stomping towards the door of Number Four Privet Drive. "I'll just go in now and start my sentence! Good night!"
Worried about the treaty with the goblins and trying to keep matters from spinning entirely out of control, Dumbledore addressed Harry's retreating form. "Mister Potter, please wait. About the goblins. About the Malfoys. If you will let me explain…"
The atmosphere was electric. Harry whirled around and stared for a moment at the man who, more than anyone else, was responsible for the situation in which he found himself. A rush of anger rushed over him, followed by a rush of words - all shouted at maximum volume. "SO YOU'RE GOING TO `EXPLAIN' TO ME AGAIN ARE YOU?! WHAT ARE YOU TRYING FOR? STRIKE THREE AND YOU'RE OUT? YOU DON'T CARE ANYWAY - NONE OF YOU DO!"
Hermione yelped, but Harry was too busy yelling to hear.
"I'M JUST A BLOODY TOOL TO YOU - A TOOL FOR THE ORDER. NEED A WEAPON TO FIGHT VOLDEMORT? CALL HARRY! NEED A CONVENIENT PLACE TO STASH A BILLION POUNDS? A BILLION PROBABLY DODGY POUNDS? JUST SLIP IT TO HARRY! WHAT WERE THE BLACKS ANYWAY? A BUNCH OF BLEEDING PIRATES? NEED TO SEAL A DEAL WITH THE GOBLINS? HARRY WLL DO IT! NEED A SYMBOL TO KEEP UP MORALE? DRAFT HARRY! WELL I'M SICK AND TIRED OF BEING DRAFTED! FIGHT YOUR OWN BATTLES! ALL I WANT TO BE IS…."
Dumbledore struggled to get a word in edgewise. "Mister Potter, Harry, if you will just listen.… About the Blacks - they were not pirates. I am sure what they did was perfectly legal, but…."
Harry was past screaming now. His eyes were wild and his hair was even more unkempt that usual. Hermione thought she saw his wand tip still glowing crazily even though it had been stowed.
"I'LL BET IT WAS! WHAT ELSE ARE YOU PLANNING TO LEAVE OUT OF YOUR EXPLANATION? YOU NEVER TOLD ME THAT DRACO MALFOY WAS MY RIVAL FOR SIRIUS' INHERITANCE! YOU NEVER TOLD ME THAT HIS FATHER STOLE SIRIUS' WAND AND DAMNED HIM TO AZKABAN! YOU NEVER TOLD ME ABOUT BEING A FIFTH ELEMENT ELEMENTAL! APPARENTLY I'M NOT SUPPOSED EVEN TO KNOW WHAT I MIGHT BE!"
Eliza had described the pandemonium that had broken out in the Magistrate's Court when the "F word" had been mentioned. It happened again on the Dursleys' now considerably less than immaculate front garden. Some onlookers gasped in incomprehension. Those who knew what Harry was talking about did more than gasp.
"Mister Potter!"
"If you would just let me explain, that is precisely why…"
"Can't we take this inside?"
"Potter, I would think the even someone with your notable lack of common sense and discretion would know better than to…."
Harry whirled and glared at Professor Snape, who was struggling to his feet. This was his first encounter with his number one tormentor at Hogwarts since Sirius had died. "YOU SHOULD BLOODY WELL TALK ABOUT COMMON SENSE AND DISCRETION! YOU DIDN'T TEACH ME OCCLUMENCY - YOU JUST GOT YOUR JOLLIES RAPING MY MIND, WHILST TELLING ME HOW WORTHLESS I AM! YOU LEFT ME WIDE OPEN FOR VOLDEMORT! YOU WANTED THAT TO HAPPEN, DIDN'T YOU? YOU WANTED SOMETHING TO HAPPEN! YOU WANTED AN INCIDENT!! YOU GOADED SIRIUS FOR MONTHS, HOPING THAT HE WOULD DO SOMETHING BRAVE, RASH AND FATAL!!!"
"YOU LOOK LIKE YOU WERE THE ONE WHO TRIED TO SNEAK INTO MY MIND THIS AFTERNOON!! YOU DID, DIDN'T YOU?! WELL YOU'VE FOUND OUT THAT I HAVE BEEN ABLE TO LEARN OCCLUMENCY WHEN I WAS TAUGHT BY SOMEONE WHO ACTUALLY WANTED ME TO LEARN!! DO YOU WANT TO TRY AGAIN? I'M READY - RIGHT NOW!!!"
Harry was now beside himself with fury. The encounter with Snape was pushing him over the edge. The others could feel the magic pouring off him into the muggy night air. Harry's eyes were wild and his hair, if anything, was even wilder. Hermione was staring at him in disbelief - he was at once so powerful and so powerfully enraged. It looked like static electricity was crackling between Harry's fingers.
Mad Eye took a couple of steps toward Harry. "Harry - STOP. Yeh need ta calm down…."
Just as Harry turned to face Moody, he caught a glance of someone pelting towards him at full speed from his left-hand side.
"HARRY!!!" Hermione screamed at the top of her lungs as she ran at him. She had no idea what would happen when she collided with the Protego shield that still surrounded him, but she no longer cared.
Harry turned towards Hermione just as she collided with him full tilt. Apparently the Protego charm only worked against magic. "Hermione, what the Hell…? Oof…." Hermione tackled Harry and roughly knocked him down to the grass.
The two of them had not even stopped rolling when they were both blinded and deafened.
It seemed to Harry that the world had just exploded.
* * * *
Author's notes: Black family names now conform to new canon
The description of a life estate is accurate. Property rights do exist in this form, although they are no longer common
Bleak House is a Dickens novel about the cost of endless litigation
Dumbledore detests imprisonment without trial, hence the Wizengamot action
Lax management by the Office of Escheats and Inheritances figures later
Muggle banks in Switzerland, Liechtenstein and the Caymans are notorious flight capital havens, - but Portugal and Barbados have other connotations
Gold sitting in a Swiss bank for fifty years. Wait till Hermione gets a look
The Egyptian god Thoth has the head of an ibis
Turks Arabs and Spaniards - from Emerson, Lake & Palmer's "Pirates," to which privateers are akin. Letters of marque and reprisal are government piracy permits mentioned in the U.S. Constitution
Saltpeter was once called "Salt of the rock." "Peter" is Latin for "rock" - hence the stone city of Petra and "upon this rock I shall build my church"
The events involving the Blacks in the 1589-1605 period are actual history
After the Gunpowder Plot, what did the Blacks do? There are clues for any independent researcher. It will strain the H/Hr relationship even further - as fire tempers fine steel
One of the whaling sites will figure later
Hints here plus what is already revealed (do the math), explain the Goblins' interest in Harry
Liverpool and New Castle on Tyne are also clues
Blackpool - the Black name allows many plays on words. The same with black powder
Poydras is a major commercial street in New Orleans. Several of my lawyer friends have offices in high rises there
New Orleans, Charleston, Newport (& Brown), Brazil - all clues
The old property deeds are from real places; Château Blackwalls is fictional, but proper geographically
The War of the Roses involved a Black Prince
Compared to other issues, Hermione can much more easily stomach house-elf breeding
The Ode to Joy is the fourth movement of Beethoven's Ninth, and the EU anthem. Classical music figures in upcoming events
Eliza as an angel is a recurrent theme
This is my theory about Voldemort's wand and how he got it back: Pettigrew took it on 10/31/81, and gave it to Malfoy. After the end of PoA, Pettigrew recovered the wand and went to find his Master. When Voldemort and Pettigrew returned from Albania, they stayed at in Malfoy's hidden chamber until moving to Crouch. I believe this is consistent with canon
Non compos mentis is legal Latin for incompetent
A Star Chamber proceeding is conducted irregularly. The Star Chamber saw notorious abuse in the Middle Ages
The Fifth Element. The four Greek elements correspond to the four states of matter. The fifth can be considered another state of matter
En flagrante is short for en flagrante delito or "in the act"
The "Sorcerer's Apprentice" sequence in Fantasia starred Mickey Mouse and a Dumbledore figure
Independence Day was released in summer 1996. The movie is accurately described
Harry can flirt a little bit too
Permission to speak freely is a military term for wanting to criticize a superior
Chequers and Sandringham are real places
A bit of a cliff-hanger at the end. Plenty of clues about to figure out what happened
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