Chapter 22 by Kinsfire
Harry stepped out of the room with Hermione on his arm. They were immediately besieged by quite a large crowd of
people, as most of the teaching staff seemed to have taken up vigil in the Hospital Wing, and Ron, Ginny, and Neville
had apparently managed to wangle their way in. Harry and Hermione both flushed as they realized how long they had
been in there, and thanked Merlin for silencing charms. "Miss Granger!" Flitwick said happily. "How do you feel?"
"Isn't that Madame Pomfrey's question?" Harry asked no one in particular, drawing a slight chuckle from the woman
in question as she bustled up to them. Hermione sat on one of the hospital beds while the mediwitch ran a quick series
of tests. "Everything seems to be in order, blood sugar a little low, and you're a tad dehydrated, dear, make sure you
eat and drink something soon ... oh, yes, and the little visitor is doing just fine, too!" Hermione blushed as a golden
glow shone momentarily around her lower abdomen. Helen sniffled against Doug's shirtfront, and Ginny gave a glad
noise that sounded a lot like "squeeee!" as she hugged Hermione. Ron punched Harry jovially in the arm while Neville
shook his hand in congratulations.
"You seem to be feeling better as well, Mister Potter," Madame Pomfrey said with a smile. "I don't need to do a
diagnostic spell to tell me how you're feeling. That smile says it all."
"My wife is back," he said simply. He suddenly grinned widely. "She's back!" he yelled, and quickly picked up
Madame Pomfrey and spun her around quickly. "The love of my life is alive, awake, and doesn't hate me for what I
had to tell her. How do you think I feel?" He laughed brightly, and he could feel tears of happiness springing to
Hermione's eyes, that she made him so ecstatic.
"Now then ... excuse me, Mr. Potter, would you mind putting me down? Thank you. As I was saying ... I hate to
remind you of earlier unpleasantness, but I would like to begin the process of regenerating Professor Snape's injuries.
Your stasis is still preventing that. Could I convince you to remove it now?"
Harry snorted. "I suppose so. He really ought to be awake and potentially as whole as possible for when the Aurors
come to pick him up. Let's go wake up Sleeping Ugly." He followed her around the screen that shielded the bed of his
long-time tormentor, followed by Hermione, who gasped as she saw the ravaged form.
Was it really necessary to do that? she asked him.
He was calling you a whore, and intimating that you sleep with everyone in the castle, not to mention the fact that he
severed our bond. He paused. You need to get used to the fact that I will deal with those who go after you, Hermione. I
said it earlier in the summer, and I say it again. Your friendship is that pearl beyond price, and your love is more than I
deserve. But since you feel I am worth such a gift, then I consider myself your Champion. I will deal with those who
demean and belittle my lady.
As long as I am permitted to be your Champion, Harry. I don't like it when they go after you any more than you like
them attacking me. She paused. Which means Malfoy is going to be hurt sometime soon.
Harry couldn't help it r11; he laughed out loud. "You don't know the half of it, Hermione. Did you know that, at the
very least, one quarter of the Malfoy fortune is going to be yours, because Draco Malfoy attempted line theft of the
Potter line?"
Hermione was puzzled. "What's line theft?"
"By making you pregnant with his son, he would have stolen the Potter inheritance for his own child ... it's an old-
fashioned thing, but I'm told it's still a valid law. But since he got caught at it, one-quarter of his fortune is forfeit to
the person whose line he intended to steal."
Her hand shot to her mouth, and then she began to giggle. "You're going to be rich, Harry! The Malfoys aren't exactly
a poor family, you know. And Draco will be so annoyed, knowing that he's the reason!"
"You didn't catch what I said, Hermione. The law may say that it comes to me, but it will be yours to disburse as you
see fit. It was your body he attempted to defile, after all."
She shook her head. "Where is he? Under house arrest in his quarters?"
Helen laughed. "No, apparently this school still has cells from over a thousand years ago. He's in one of those, being
taken care of by a house elf named Dobby."
She looked at Harry, unblinking, for a very long moment. The moment shattered when she snorted several times before
collapsing in laughter against Harry. "Dobby? In charge of Malfoy? Doesn't that define poetic justice?"
"I certainly believe so," Albus Dumbledore said quietly. "However, delightful as catching up is, Madame Pomfrey is
becoming impatient, and dinner awaits the rest of us. Harry, if you would?" He gestured at the still form of Severus
Snape. Harry nodded and removed his stasis spell. The Potions Master groaned and shuddered, and for one horrifying
second seemed on the verge of screaming his way to consciousness, before Madame Pomfrey spelled him comatose
again.
Dumbledore was attempting to shepherd everyone towards the wide double doors when they were flung open and
Cornelius Fudge breezed into the room, Percy Weasley and a pair of Aurors in tow behind him.
Who invited him to this party? Harry wondered.
How long before he threatens you with Azkaban or the like? he heard Hermione ask in his head.
I give him about five minutes. I have really just about had it with him.
"Professor Dumbledore!" the Minister for Magic said. "What's this I hear about a duel happening on Hogwarts
grounds? And why did I have to find out about it from the front page of the Prophet this morning?"
"It was a perfectly legal duel, Minister Fudge," Dumbledore said quietly. "The challenge and the duel were both
witnessed by four separate members of the instructional staff, as well as myself, and it was carried out in accordance
with all laws governing such matters. As for notification, there was simply neither the time, nor, quite frankly, the
need, to advise anyone outside the school, as it was strictly an internal matter."
"Nothing involving Potter is simply an internal matter," growled the Minister. "The boy's a menace, and if he were
anyone else he'd be in the juvenile wing of Azkaban!"
Less than three minutes. I'm impressed, thought Harry.
Azkaban has a juvenile wing? queried Hermione.
Probably had it renovated just for me, Harry replied darkly.
Unaware of the telepathic conversation, and contemptuously ignoring the thunderous looks on the faces of his
audience, Fudge continued, "And it leads me to question the judgment of the staff who allow such a thing not only to
happen but to be witnessed by children of tender years! What kind of message does it give the student body?" Fudge
harumphed.
Harry cleared his throat. "Maybe that there are times when justice simply must be served, sir? I do not believe that the
duel made anyone think that it would be a good idea to go running around duelling everyone else. The end result was a
gory, messy thing that I'd imagine most would rather not have seen. I know that feel that way. If nothing else, it may
have impressed some of the students with the need to find another way to solve their problems instead of leading with
their wands."
"Yes, well," Fudge muttered, realizing somehow that he'd lost control of the situation the moment he'd entered into the
room. "Still, an investigation must be made. Verification. Steps taken to rectify ..."
"Cornelius, I think we should take this into my office," Dumbledore said calmly, trying to lead Fudge away from the
Hospital Wing.
"On the contrary, Headmaster, I'm on to your machinations. If you want this in private, it can't be on the up and up.
We will have this out here and now," Fudge demanded, digging in his heels. "We're not going anywhere until I am
made aware of the duel's particulars!"
"Then you shall be told, and I shall be the one doing the telling," Dumbledore said, stopping Harry and Flitwick from
saying anything. "Both Filius and Harry would put more of a spin on things than perhaps is good."
Fudge glared at Harry, who returned the favour. Dumbledore did his best to ignore the byplay.
"As was reported in the Prophet, the duel was between Professor Severus Snape and Mister Harry Potter. Before you
say anything, Minister," Dumbledore said, interrupting Fudge before he could speak, "you need to understand the
situation that led up to the challenge being issued." Once Fudge made obvious his intention to remain silent pending
further information, the headmaster continued. "During the summer, a spell was performed to protect Hermione
Granger's parents. It had the rather unusual side effect of forming a soul bond between Miss Granger and Mister
Potter."
"A Muggleborn?" Fudge interjected. "How? Soul bondings are rare enough as it is, but with a Muggleborn?"
"And here we see the biggest problem with the wizarding world," Harry said softly, but loud enough for everyone to
hear. "When the Minister for Magic can say something so patently asinine and bigoted, and believe it." He turned to
face the Minister. "I hate to tell you this, sir, but my wi ... fiancée is not some highly trained animal. She is a thinking,
breathing woman who is a better spell-caster than most of the students in this school, myself included. She studied
O.W.L. level potions when she was a second year student. Yet purebloods such as yourself seem to think that she's
worthless because her parents weren't from a pureblood family. And none of you see the inherent bigotry in the
statement. r16;How could Potter have bonded with something that doesn't qualify as human?' That's what you're really
saying." He stopped and inhaled deeply, a sharp sound that worried everyone. "The man who was our Potions
professor had similar feelings, and took it upon himself to break our soul bond with a spell that Professor Flitwick
apparently thinks should be an Unforgivable. That, and his choosing to call my wife ... sorry, fiancée r11; we're getting
married in a week ... a whore r11; that was just a little too much for me, so I challenged him to a duel. He lies in that
bed over there."
The crowd obligingly parted to give Fudge a clear view of Snape's bed, where Madame Pomfrey was still working.
His eyes widened. "What in Merlin's name did you do to him, Potter? He's missing his left arm, and part of his ribs!"
"I noticed that, sir," Harry said sarcastically. "He was attempting to disfigure me with a storm of gravel, and I cast a
Reducto to get rid of it. Since I couldn't see clearly, I wasn't aiming at him, and it was just his bad luck that he was in
the path of that spell."
"Mister Potter was within the bounds of the duel, Minister," Dumbledore quickly said, injecting himself back into the
conversation. "It was obvious to the witnesses that Mister Potter was merely dealing with the centre of the gravel
storm, and if Professor Snape had simply moved to either side after casting the spell, as is standard duelling practice,
he would have been quite safe. Since he did not perform that common sense step, he suffered the consequences. The
terms were to the first wound that required magic to heal it, so Mister Potter, by default, won."
"Well, I'm glad someone had the good sense to stabilise Snape before he died," Fudge said, looking daggers at Harry.
"Throwing spells like that around without thought for who may be in its path is inherently stupid, not to mention
criminally negligent."
"Well, you'd know everything about being inherently stupid, wouldn't you?" Harry muttered. Unfortunately, he was
louder than he intended. "As for the person who put Snape in stasis to keep him from bleeding to death, well, that
would be me. Being closest, and all."
"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "When he saw what had happened, Mister Potter immediately cast a stasis upon Professor
Snape." He looked sharply at the Minister. "It is because Mister Potter is the person that he is that Severus Snape is
alive, and will eventually have an arm again, if regeneration is successful."
Madame Pomfrey turned to face them, her hands and arms streaked with blood. "I don't see why it shouldn't be. With
as powerful a stasis as Mister Potter cast, I was able to remove the damaged tissue without risking shock or extreme
loss of blood. When he took the stasis off, it was as if the injury had just happened. St. Mungo's will have no problems
with regenerating the damaged bits r11; although it may be the better part of a year before Professor Snape can safely
work with a cauldron again."
"Well, it shouldn't be a problem," Fudge said. "Mister Potter can pay for the regeneration r11; and the lost wages - out
of his considerable fortune, considering he caused the damage."
"Considerable fortune?" Harry asked. "And just what would you know about my finances? Hell, even I didn't know
until my emancipation, and then ... Wait a minute. Even I know that banks don't keep all of the money just sitting
around. They invest it. Especially with an amount as large as my parents had. Headmaster? Who would have been
administering the investments in the trusts after my parents died?"
Dumbledore stroked his beard as he thought. "Well, the executor of James' Will would have been Sirius Black r11; and
under the circumstances, Sirius was obviously deemed disqualified. The successors would have been Peter Pettigrew
and Remus Lupin."
"Lupin is a werewolf. He was ineligible."
"At the time, his lycanthropy was not commonly known, Minister. It only became general knowledge a few years ago.
By rights, those accounts should have been handed over to him to administer. How is it they were not?"
"Now see here, Dumbledore, this is hardly the time or the place for financial questions. Those can be discussed at a
more convenient time in private."
"You said yourself that if you want it discussed in private, it can't be on the up and up, Minister. If Mister Potter
doesn't mind discussing this under these circumstances, I don't think you have any grounds to object."
"Well obviously I don't have the facts immediately to hand. Nor am I the right person to address in any case. Mister
Potter needs to take this up with the Trusts Administration Office ..." his voice trailed off uncertainly.
"... at the Ministry. That explains it right there," said Harry, grimly. "With the Ministry in control of my parents' estate,
Fudge and his cronies could skim anything they wanted."
Fudge puffed up in outrage. "How dare you accuse me of such a thing? I'm the Minister for Magic!"
"And one of your closest friends and advisors not on the payroll was a Death Eater," Harry said dangerously. "Lucius
Malfoy was often seen around you, and found it easy to get certain things passed through the Ministry. I wonder how
that happened."
He stepped closer to Fudge, and the two Aurors with him obviously saw this as threatening. They pulled their wands
and aimed them at Harry. He wasn't sure what it was that welled up inside him, but he looked at the two Aurors and
shoved at the air in their direction. They lifted off the ground, and it was only Professor Flitwick's quick thinking and
rapid casting of a cushioning charm that kept them from serious hurt when they impacted with the wall. "I want
answers, Minister, and I'm going to get them." He spun to face the teachers. "Could I convince one of you to go to
Gringott's for me and request, in my name, a complete accounting of my parents' accounts? With particular attention to
special transactions ordered by the Ministry administrative people? I trust the goblins to have handled the routine work
correctly, but I have a sneaking suspicion that things are not entirely on the up and up with our dear Minister and my
money."
MacGonagall looked to Dumbledore, who nodded. Harry murmured, "Accio key," and a moment later, two separate
cracking noises were heard r11; once as something whirred into the room, and the second as it impacted with the wall.
He walked over to the small dust cloud and carefully pulled the key from the wall. He was impressed to discover that
the key was undamaged. The wall, however, was another matter. A rather impressive chunk of stone was missing from
the wall. "Reparo!" he cried out in shock, and a moment later, the entire wall nearly sparkled.
He stared at his handiwork as he blankly handed the key to his Transfiguration professor. "I think, ma'am, that I shall
be needing a refresher course in my magics. Wandless magic, magic more powerful than when Hermione and I first
bonded, a Reparo spell that powerful? This is a problem. I just hoping no one was killed on the key's flight to me."
"It wouldn't have been moving faster than sound if it had," Helen said with a smile, surprise at the incident quite
obvious on her face. "That's what that first crack we heard was, after all."
He shook his head. "Wow," was all he could say. Minerva MacGonagall smiled and left the room, but not without
Fudge looking as if he wished to stop her. Harry shook his head and looked at the Minister, and then the Aurors. "I'm
sorry about that, by the way. I had no intention of actually hurting you. I'm not stupid enough to attack the Minister for
Magic, even though he annoys me to no end with his attempts to discredit me and call me insane. Some of the
problems caused by his cronies, such as Dolores Umbridge," he paused as the name made Fudge wince slightly, "were
actually a greater disservice to the Wizarding world r11; setting Dementors on me is one thing, but she abused the
entire rest of the student body here as well."
The Aurors started. One of them stepped forward. "Excuse me. Do you have proof of what you just said?"
"Depends on what you describe as proof. I can prove the usage of a Blood Quill on students r11; at least one of them."
He held up his hand to show the white lines from the scars of her detentions. In a few spots, the words r16;I will not
tell lies' were still readable. "And I can give you the names of a couple of others, too. You can go ask them. There
were several students who heard her admission , including six members of her Inquisitorial Squad, although I seriously
doubt that they'll admit to hearing it. But if you interview Ms. Lovegood, Miss Weasley, her brother Ronald Weasley,
and Neville Longbottom, as well as my wife ... sorry, fiancée ... you'll hear it from them. Under rules of evidence,
what with our soul bonding, Hermione's testimony might be considered suspect, but I'm thinking that the other four, if
interviewed separately, should give you plenty of evidence against her."
Fudge was the colour Malfoy had been just prior to fainting. "You know something?" Harry said, having just thought
of something. "I believe that I shall need to swear out a complaint upon our ex-headmistress. I am, after all, legally an
adult."
The Auror that had stepped forward spoke again. "I may be forced to withdraw myself from this investigation. My
youngest brother is a third year Hufflepuff, and I'm less than pleased to discover that we had a woman teaching at this
school who had easy access to Dementors."
"Given the way the trial I was subjected to was handled last year, I do wonder if any other officials in the government
knew about what she had done." As Harry said this, his eyes bored into Fudge's.
"I know nothing about this!" blustered Fudge. "Umbridge obviously overstepped her authority ... I never intended ... a
full investigation will be made, you can be sure ..."
"Then the Improper Use for Magic Office should be on that list. Those wonderful people who threatened to break my
wand at the drop of a hat, and couldn't tell the difference between house-elf magic and mine. Mafalda Hopkirk has a
lot to answer for, too. And you, Minister, might not have been specifically aware of what they were doing, but you
were certainly willing to use their accusations to support your own agenda. And you've used your position to poison
the public, even members of my own friends' families against me." Here he shot an absolutely poisonous glare at
Percy. "You might want to head back to your office, Minister. I'm sure you have some people to hang out to dry
before they can find out your part in all this."
Fudge stood before Harry for a moment before emulating the younger Malfoy by fainting. Dumbledore eased his
passage to the floor before looking at Harry. "I must say that you do seem to live in interesting times, Harry," he
finished with a smile.
Fudge was carried to a bed by the Aurors, with Percy fussing over him. Nobody else seemed to be terribly concerned,
and it didn't occur even to Percy that the Minister should be revived.
"Now, then," said Dumbledore, assuming the mantle that said he was In Charge Here, and to which the Aurors
automatically responded, "I believe you gentlemen have some work to do. Ms. Bones will need to be notified of all
this, so that she can start the inquiries into Minister Fudge's conduct, and the Minister's office secured to prevent
destruction of evidence. As Supreme Warlock of the Wizengamot, I have authority to order those inquiries, but she
should properly supervise them. Then we shall be needing extra Aurors here, as I regret that it will be necessary to take
Professor Snape and Mister Draco Malfoy into custody."
"A Malfoy?" said the lead Auror. "What for?"
"Ah, I forgot it hadn't been mentioned so far. Mister Malfoy attempted to commit criminal assault on another student."
"Call it what it is, sir," Hermione said. "He sexually assaulted me in class, physically and magically, then later tried to
rape me and commit line theft." She had a stern look on her face.
"Line theft? But that's ... but he ..."
"Exactly," said Dumbledore. "We have eyewitnesses and magical evidence in the form of the spell cast upon Miss
Granger to ensure the conception. And since two of the great houses, Malfoy and Potter, are involved, that's a matter
for the Wizengamot, over and above the personal insult offered to Miss Granger. Mister Malfoy's mother must be
notified as well, immediately, since he is, after all, still underage."
The Auror who spoke headed over to the fireplace in the infirmary and pulled a small jar from his cloak. Activating
the Floo, he spoke to someone for a short time before standing up and announcing, "They'll be sending more teams,
and Director Bones is on her way. I warned them that we have at least two arrests to make here, and the Minister was
likely to put up a fight when we tell him he can't go back to the office." He chuckled. "I think a few people are going
to be happy to be able to arrest the Minister if he's difficult. There may be fights to see who gets to come here."
"Very well, then. Poppy, may I ask you to make sure that Minister Fudge is not disturbed? He seemed quite r11;
distraught r11; and no doubt needs his rest."
Madame Pomfrey nodded briskly. "I'll make sure he rests comfortably for the next few hours, Headmaster, if you'll get
all these people out of my Infirmary. Now that Miss Granger is back on her feet, there's no need for her or anyone else
to be here. Out! Out!"
Dinner had already started when the teachers, students, Aurors, and Percy entered the Great Hall. Since none of the
students had seen Harry, Hermione, or Draco Malfoy after the duel ended, rumour had been running even more
rampant than usual, and the arrival of the Minister in high dudgeon had only added fuel to the fire. Harry made sure
that his explanations to the Gryffindors were just loud enough to be heard at the neighbouring Hufflepuff table; he was
sure that the story would make it across the room to the Slytherin table by the time the meal ended. It turned out that
the Prefects of the various houses, plus whatever D.A. members were available, had been dragooned into keeping
order among the students before and after the Duel, which had given Ron and Ginny excellent views of the action,
which they described from their point of view. Ron, as usual, suitably embellished his narrative, until Harry wondered
if he'd been watching the same fight Harry had been in.
By the end of the meal, things had begun to calm down, when the arrival of Minerva McGonagall, carrying a thick
book and accompanied by Amelia Bones and twelve Aurors, stirred them up again. Dumbledore descended from the
high table to greet Ms. Bones, and the two of them swept out of the Hall at the head of the column of Aurors, Percy
trailing along uncertainly in their wake. Professor McGonagall did not follow immediately, but went to the Gryffindor
table. "Mister Potter, Miss Granger, when you are done with your dinner, you will be wanted in the Headmaster's
office. I have what you needed, and while I did not look at the contents, I was informed by the goblins that you would
likely find it to be interesting reading."
With a glance at each other and a shared thought, Harry and Hermione abandoned the pudding course and
accompanied Professor McGonagall up to Dumbledore's office, which seemed to have been expanded a bit to
accommodate the large number of people in it. Professor Flitwick and Doug and Helen Granger arrived just behind
Harry and Hermione.
Harry took the book from Professor McGonagall and staggered theatrically over to the writing desk that stood under
the main window. He began to look at it, then looked up at Hermione. "You're the brains of the outfit, love. I need
your help with this." Looking to Helen and Doug, he added, hesitantly, "Mum? Dad? Wouldn't mind your help either."
He wasn't surprised to find all four of them blinking tears away for a moment before they settled into the ledger that
the goblins had sent. Not five minutes had gone by before Helen asked softly, but somehow loud enough to be heard
by everyone in the room, "Harry, is it safe to assume that you didn't authorise these short term loans? There seem to be
an awful lot of them, and they don't bring back much income."
"It's safe to assume I didn't authorize anything. What were they?"
Doug Granger turned the book to see the lists of figures better. "Looks like you've been making short-term loans to
these other entities ... you've been getting interest on them, but in small percentages ... as soon as one loan is paid off,
another one is made ... hmm, a couple of losses here, not much compared to the total, but enough to notice ... looks
like a lot of extra fees attached to these, too ... do these wizards do nothing in round numbers? It's all multiples of
seventeen and twenty-nine. Oh, for a calculator ..."
While Doug was bemoaning the conditions of Wizarding accounting, the fireplace roared green, and Narcissa Malfoy's
head appeared in the flames. "Headmaster Dumbledore, may I come to your office? There are Aurors here at my home
and they're telling me the most ridiculous things about my son."
"Of course you may, Mrs. Malfoy. We've been expecting your call."
Mrs. Malfoy's head disappeared from the flames, and a moment later she spun into the capacious fireplace, followed
by two more Aurors. Harry was mildly envious of her ability to just stop and step over the grate without being dumped
out as he always was. There must be a trick to it, and one of these days he was going to find out.
Mrs. Malfoy flicked the soot from her clothing and sat regally at a chair in front of Dumbledore's desk, obviously
deeming the crowd of Aurors and others beneath her notice. "Now then, Headmaster. I came home from an afternoon
spent with friends to find these ... gentlemen ... waiting in my Floo Parlor. They tell me my Draco's in some sort of
difficulty? Some nonsense about a girl making accusations about him?"
"Nonsense!" Hermione cried, shooting to her feet. "Your son tried to rape me!"
Draco's mother looked down her aristocratic nose at Hermione. "Oh, did he indeed? I'm surprised at his lack of taste.
Or is it that he refused your advances and now you want to make him pay for it? I assure you, Miss ... whatever your
name is, Malfoys do not respond to that sort of cheap blackmail. Though you do seem to have set the stage well, with
all these Aurors. And these would be the parents and the outraged boyfriend? How predictable," she drawled,
acknowledging the Grangers and Harry, who had risen to support Hermione.
"I assure you, Mrs. Malfoy, that this is no unfounded accusation," said Dumbledore sharply. "Your son was caught in
flagrante, as it were, having removed his own trousers and in the process of removing Miss Granger's clothing while
she lay unconscious in the infirmary, unable to defend herself. Additionally, he had cast the conception spell upon her
to guarantee that a son would be born of his assault. This last supports a further charge of line theft against him before
the Wizengamot."
"Line theft?!" Mrs. Malfoy almost squeaked in outrage as she rose abruptly to face Hermione. "With this little
nothing? What possible line ...?"
"Mine," said Harry, stepping to the fore. "You may not remember me, Mrs. Malfoy, but we met once before, at the
Quidditch World Cup. I'm Harry Potter, and this is my betrothed, Hermione Granger. We are to be married in less than
a week, and your son was attempting to make sure that a son of his blood would be my heir. That is the definition of
line theft, isn't it?"
Mrs. Malfoy paled in shock and dropped back into her chair. "Yes, yes it ... you said there were witnesses?"
"Our Care of Magical Creatures Professor, Rubeus Hagrid, was the one who apprehended him in the act," said
Dumbledore. "Mister Potter, Professors Flitwick, Granger and Granger, and I arrived barely a moment later, and
observed Mister Malfoy being held against the wall by Professor Hagrid. Miss Granger's clothing had been cut, and
your son's pocket knife was also found on the scene. Mister Potter, in the process of setting his betrothed's clothing to
rights, detected a spell upon her, which I determined, and Professor Flitwick confirmed, to be Conceptigenus Puer.
Professor Hagrid and I have already placed our memories of the event in a Penseive for the Wizengamot's review.
Professor Flitwick has been occupied with other matters, but shall add his memories this evening, and the whole
turned over to Director Bones as part of her investigation." Dumbledore nodded in the direction of Ms. Bones, who
was sitting quietly in an overstuffed chair near the fireplace.
"Regardless of what the Wizengamot decides, Mister Malfoy's actions are more than sufficient to require his expulsion
from Hogwarts. He is currently being held under house arrest in secure quarters, and I have requested the house elves
to pack up his belongings to return them to your home. Do you have any questions?"
Mrs. Malfoy hid her face with her hands. "Oh, that stupid, stupid boy! What was he thinking?"
"He probably wasn't," said Harry candidly. "It's not something he seems to be familiar with."
"He's just like his father. Always thinking he's entitled to anything he wants."
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Unfortunately, in addition to everything else, there's the issue of a possible challenge
for the insult to your daughter's honour. Mister Potter opted not to challenge, but it is left open for Miss Granger or her
parents to do so. Have you made a decision in that regard?" he asked.
"Duelling isn't part of our traditions," said Doug. "I understand there are criminal penalties for his actions?"
"If found guilty of the attempted rape, he will spend time in Azkaban or whatever other facility is designated to hold
criminals. If found guilty of the line theft, he will pay the appropriate financial penalties. And, of course, the social
consequences will be enormous, since he has disgraced his entire family."
"Can we be assured that he will be found guilty? So far, I haven't heard much about the Wizarding justice system that
fills me with confidence."
"I shall personally oversee the prosecution of this case, Professor Granger," said Ms. Bones. "If the evidence is as
Professor Dumbledore says it is, then I am confident of obtaining a guilty verdict. Mind you, it won't be a show trial.
We've had enough of those, and there will be no more on my watch. But if you're willing to give us the opportunity,
we'll do our best to do the job right."
Hermione and her parents conferred briefly, and agreed that it was best to turn Draco over to the Ministry. A team of
Aurors were sent down to remove him from his cell and bring him up.
"Miss Granger ... Mister Potter. I would like to apologize for my earlier comments. There had been an earlier incident
... a young girl who tried to blackmail my son ... I thought this was more of the same. I beg your forgiveness," she
finished, formally.
Hermione and Harry exchanged glances. "Apology accepted," said Harry. "Although you might want to look into that
earlier incident to check out the facts."
"I will do so," she answered, and then returned her attention to the Headmaster and Ms. Bones, to arrange the removal
of her son from his cell and his transfer to the Ministry.
Harry and Hermione quietly returned to the writing desk, to find that Percy Weasley was leaning over Doug's
shoulder, looking at the ledger of transactions. "Percy, what are you doing looking at my financial statements?"
Doug looked puzzled. "Mr. Weasley offered to help, and since he's your friend Ron's brother ... I thought ..."
"Of all Ron's brothers, he's the last one ..."
"Excuse me, Harry, but I really did just want to help," cut in Percy. "And I think I can. I recognize some of these other
firms, and I can assure you that they're just short term investment houses. Minister Fudge recommended them to me
and I have some of my own money in them. They're good solid investments, and they provide a dependable return.
Not large, but dependable, and that's something in these troubled times. This one, LXM Holdings, in particular ..."
"What!" snapped Narcissa Malfoy, interrupting. "Did you just say LXM?"
"Yes. Do you know it?" asked Percy.
"LXM is Lucius Xavier Malfoy. It's owned by my husband."
"It's WHAT!" Harry and Percy cried in unison.
"It's an investment company owned by my husband. Have you been investing through it?"
"Not knowingly. Someone at the Ministry Administration Office has been putting trust funds from my parents' estate
through it. Looks like now we're going to have to get their records. If the goblins will release them," Harry said.
Mrs. Malfoy paused for a moment, obviously thinking things over before coming to a decision. "I will arrange for the
books to be produced," she said. "You'll find it's not entirely on the up and up, I regret to say. He takes in money in the
form of investments or short-term loans from other individuals, makes high-risk, high-profit investments with it, then
returns a low rate to his investors and pockets the rest. His own personal investing is much more conservative. May I
see those ledgers?"
Harry did his own moment of consideration, and then allowed Mrs. Malfoy to look at the documents. "LXM, LXM,
Fabrikant Investments ... that's not Lucius, but I know who it is."
"Will you tell us voluntarily," put in Amelia Bones, "or are we going to have to charge you and bring you in for
interrogation?"
"I just ... I'll tell you everything I know as long as I'm granted immunity. I wasn't a direct participant in this, but I did
know about it."
"I think that can be arranged."
"Fabrikant is owned by Cornelius Fudge. Lucius showed him how to set up the investments and skim the profits."
Percy emitted a strangled gasp. "I can't believe ... the Minister?"
"He's as corrupt as they come, Mister Weasley. Let's see, Mister Potter, there are two open loans to Fabrikant, and ...
eight? To LXM. All in the past few months ... and I'll bet those extra funds are going ... Ms. Bones, under what
conditions is my husband being held? He's not currently in Azkaban, is he?"
"No, it was decided not to send anyone there after the Dementors went walkabout. He's being held at the Ministry."
"In a standard holding cell?"
"Of course not. Wealthy prisoners have always been able to pay for better accommodations, food, a few luxuries. It's
been a standard practice for centuries."
"I've been keeping the household records since my husband was arrested, and no funds are coming out of the family
money for that. I'm afraid, Mister Potter ..."
"You mean I've been paying for Lucius fucking Malfoy's cushy quarters?!" Harry practically screamed. Dumbledore
winced at Harry's language, but nobody called him on it.
"It's worse than that," admitted Mrs. Malfoy. "Surely you know that my husband has other associates ... with whom he
shares his political leanings. Quite a lot of this money has been going to fund ..." She broke off, unwilling to say it.
"Has been going to fund the Death Eaters." Harry went pale, and Hermione shoved a chair behind him just as his
knees gave out. "He's been using my money to bankroll the damned Death Eaters."
"You and whoever else he could con into it," said Mrs. Malfoy. "Cornelius convinced quite a few Ministry employees
to put their own money into LXM and Fabrikant both. I don't know if he knew the ultimate beneficiaries of the funds
Lucius took, but he was perfectly willing to take a cut for himself. Lucius considered it one of the costs of doing
business. Additionally, he's set things up so if an audit reveals these transactions, he will take you down with him. To
the financially unsophisticated r11; which is to say, most of the Wizarding community r11; these transfers are
damning." She considered the page of the ledger that showed the outstanding r16;loans'. "Given the amounts he's
currently r16;borrowed', I'd say he's gone beyond cautious embezzling and money laundering. He probably realized
over the summer that he was going to be found out soon, and has been siphoning largish chunks out with no intention
of investing or covering up. Most likely he's been providing it directly to the Dark Lord."
"What ... what can I do?" asked Harry helplessly.
"I already told Gringott's to put a lock on your accounts and not allow further transfers," said McGonagall. "You'll
have to call them to confirm that."
"That's something, anyway."
"We'll be needing those books from you as soon as possible, Mrs. Malfoy," said Director Bones. "We'll be able to find
out from them exactly how much money we're talking about. We'll also have to get the Minister's records and find out
how much he's taken out of this scheme. Then you'll be entitled to restitution and interest on those amounts, as will
any others who have been defrauded."
"And how many years will that take?" asked Doug, who was familiar with how long government reimbursements took
in the Muggle world.
"About a week," answered the steely-haired witch. "Once set on the track of fraud, the goblins will be ruthless about
rectifying it." She smiled, but it had no humour in it. "Lucius Malfoy will be thankful he's in a nice safe prison, and
Fudge may yet be demanding the cell right next to his. The goblins can be pitiless r11; and literal r11; in demanding
their pounds of flesh. Then once that's done, there will be the transfer of one-quarter of whatever is left of the Malfoy
funds to Mr. Potter, here."
"To Miss Granger, you mean."
"If that's how you want it," said Ms. Bones, making a note on her parchments.
"No, that's not how I want it," said Narcissa Malfoy, abruptly. "As Draco's mother and the de facto head of the Malfoy
family, I hereby acknowledge his guilt in the matter of line theft and request that the payment of one-quarter of the
family assets be made immediately r11; before my husband's criminal penalties are levied."
"But ... but that will result in much more ..."
"Yes. It will result in a larger payment and means that the reimbursements may very well bankrupt my soon-to-be-ex-
husband."
"You're going to ..." Harry seemed suddenly unable to finish his sentences.
"Lucius and I will remain married only until the necessary financial transactions r11; and the total disinheritance of my
son r11; are complete." Narcissa looked at Harry and Hermione for a moment before closing her eyes. "Such
marvellous men in my life," she said in a tone dripping venom. "One is a Death Eater, and the other follows blindly in
his father's footsteps. I regret that these are the only steps I can take to mitigate the damage they have caused."
"Will you be all right?"
"Oh, yes, there were settlements made when we married. My own money has been invested safely. I won't be living
quite in the same style, but I think an extended trip to the Continent might be good for my health after this anyway. I
doubt that my husband's associates will be pleased with what I have done. Now then," she said briskly, "if the Aurors
can produce my son so that little matter can be dealt with, I think all of this can be wrapped up fairly shortly."
The Aurors in question having been cooling their heels outside Dumbledore's office for the past several minutes,
producing Malfoy was quite rapid. Malfoy himself seemed to be glad to be out of the hallway, which had suddenly
become the single most popular route from anywhere in the castle to anywhere else as everyone found a reason to pass
by and gawk at him and his guards.
"Mother! I am so glad to see you!" Malfoy said, stumbling towards his mother with his hands dramatically covering
his face. "You won't believe what they did! They imprisoned me! And tortured me! It was terrible!"
"Really, Albus. Torture?" asked Director Bones.
"We put him in a safe cell in the dungeons. He has received food and water, and even had his own house-elf to wait
on him. He was perfectly comfortable."
"Comfortable?!" screeched Malfoy. "You have no idea what that house-elf did to me ... the things it thought passed as
food ... drink ... it insisted on ... on talking to me. All the time! And singing! Oh, the horror!" Realizing that his mother
had for some inexplicable reason not taken him into her arms and assured him that all would be well and that she had
ordered his tormentors killed, Malfoy risked a peek between his fingers. His mother was just standing there, her arms
crossed and her lips pressed into a thin line. "Mother?"
"Draco Malfoy! I have never been so disappointed in my life! I'd ask what you were thinking, except that I'm sure you
weren't! A more empty-headed stunt I've never heard of, you little cretin! You are a disgrace to your family!" And
Mrs. Malfoy proved that she would probably be the equal of Mrs. Weasley with a Howler, except that she wasn't
restricted to the amount she could write on a parchment. Draco backed away from her in shock until he bumped into
his Auror escort, who pushed him forwards again to face his irate mother until she wound down. When she stopped,
she abruptly reverted to her normal icy cold demeanour. "On your behalf, Draco, I have admitted to the charge of line
theft based on your attempt against Miss Granger, and the appropriate penalties are being paid to the injured parties. I
have agreed to your expulsion from Hogwarts, effective immediately. And as your parent and the head of the family, I
hereby formally disown, disinherit and dispossess you of any claim to the Malfoy name, property or estates. From this
point forward, you are none of ours. I will be filing the appropriate papers with the Ministry first thing in the morning."
She turned crisply toward Director Bones. "After that business is taken care of, I will come to your office to discuss
our other business. And after that, I shall make the Manor open to such Aurors as you wish to send to remove certain
... artefacts ... that I do not care to have in my home any longer."
Draco sputtered in outrage. "Mother, those are Father's ... you can't do ..."
"Can't I?" She looked at him coldly. "I have the perfect right to do what I wish with whatever objects are in my home.
You, on the other hand, have no right to anything in that house any more, nor any say as to how I wish to dispose of it.
If you are very, very polite to the Aurors, I may see fit to send you some clothes. Otherwise, I am afraid you will be
limited to the contents of your trunk. Now, Director, Headmaster, I believe we are finished here? Very well, then.
Until tomorrow." She turned her back on her son, took a handful of Floo powder from the jar on the mantel, and
vanished into roaring green flames.
Director Bones shook her head. "Surprising backbone in that one. Never thought I'd see the day. Now as to this one,
Cunningham, McCoy, you take him down to the Apparation point and back to the Ministry."
Manacles were snapped on the ashen-faced Malfoy's wrists and he was hustled with little ceremony out the door.
Harry waggled his fingers at him and Hermione blew him a cheerful kiss good-bye, and they could hear the
beginnings of a cheer from the students in the hall as the Aurors escorted him from the school.
"Headmaster, if you don't mind, the other Aurors and I will go down to the Hospital Wing and take custody of the
Minister and the Professor, and deal with them appropriately. Mr. Weasley, you will accompany us to the Ministry and
provide my men with complete access to the Minister's office and files."
"Of course, Director. Any help I can give ... anything you need at all ..." He gave her a little bow and began gathering
up his things.
Harry rolled his eyes. Percy would never change.
In a surprisingly short time, it was all done. The Aurors were gone, Fudge and Snape were gone, and Harry,
Hermione, the Grangers and the teachers were the only ones remaining.
Harry collapsed into an overstuffed armchair. "Wow. I really did not ever expect to have anything like that happen. I'm
not dreaming, am I?"
"No, my boy, you're not," said Dumbledore, relaxing into his own chair and steepling his fingers. "But you probably
should be. I'd imagine the last two days are going to catch up with you quite shortly, and it would really be advisable
for you to be in your bed when that happened, instead of in some random hallway somewhere."
The very suggestion seemed to summon up a yawn, which Hermione echoed. "You may just be right, Professor. I'm
looking forward to having the weekend to recover and then just getting back into the regular flow of things, you
know?"
"That won't be happening for a while, Harry," Helen said, laughing. "There's going to be a wedding on Thursday,
remember?"
"Well, yeah, I remembered that, but that's all set up, right? I just have to show up and stand there and say the stuff,
right?"
Helen and Hermione looked at each other and shook their heads sadly. "He has no idea, does he?"
Harry looked to Doug for support, but received none. "Harry, my boy ... you're doomed. Just go along with them if you
know what's good for you."
---
By Tuesday, Harry understood exactly what Doug meant. He had no idea there were so many details still to work on
for the wedding, or that every single one of them would require his input. He really had no preference as to mock
orange or jasmine, or whether to use plain white ribbons or ribbons in the Gryffindor house colours for the seat
decorations, and he had taken to hiding in unused classrooms or broom closets whenever he saw Hermione, Helen,
Minerva McGonnagal, or Ginny (who seemed to have appointed herself to the Wedding Committee) coming towards
him with a purposeful stride. The Marauder's Map and Invisibility Cloak were his new best friends, and he never went
anywhere without them.
Finally, Thursday morning dawned. Hermione had been whisked off to spend the night in her parents' apartment, and
Harry had not slept well without her. He rose unnaturally early for him, dressed quickly, and went out to sit on the
castle steps and watch the sun come up. The mist slowly dissipated from the lawn, but shreds of it still hung in the
shadows of the woods when Harry decided to go back in and see if the house-elves had breakfast on yet. He reached
down to pick up the Map from the step where he had placed it, and froze. There were dots, many of them, moving
through the mass of stylized trees that marked the Forbidden Forest. The little labels that bore the names overlapped
each other and the trees too much to be clear, but Harry's heart started pounding nonetheless. He leaped to his feet and
ran to Dumbledore's office, meeting the aged wizard just as he left to go to breakfast. He waved the Map under
Dumbledore's nose. "Headmaster, in the Forest," he gasped. "They're coming! The Forbidden Forest is full of Death
Eaters!"