Chapter Five - Hermione's Wake-up

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to the proverbial Duchess of Magic, JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. No matter how much I whine about not owning anything related to the HP universe, other than a few fanfic plots, I do not profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world... Damn it!

Chapter Five - Hermione's Wake-up

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―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Amelia Bones was only about a third of the way through writing down the headings on what would become a written record of notes relating to each memory when there was a knock on her door.

"Come!" she barked.

Marching in and coming to a halt almost exactly five feet in front of her ultimate boss's desk, Nymphadora Tonks quickly snapped off a salute and almost barked, "Auror Second Class Nymphadora Tonks reporting as ordered, Ma'am!"

"Sit down and relax, Auror," said Amelia, barely glancing up.

Auror Tonks hesitated a moment before she stepped forward and sat on one of the two office chairs sitting before Bones's desk.

As she did so, Amelia rose and walked to her office credenza. Opening a hidden draw in what looked like fixed wainscotting she drew out a pensieve and returned with it to her desk, placing it in the middle but to one side.

Once it was placed she returned to her seat and looked to the young auror.

"Auror Tonks, I've been informed you've the best short-term memory and observational skills in our current cadre," she said. "I have need of those skills, right now."

When Tonks attempted to sit up even straighter than she already did, Amelia had to bury her desire to smirk back. She knew the promising young auror before her knew it was a compliment.

"You and I, Auror Tonks, are going to go through all these memories, one by one," she explained. "Then, after each memory is completed, we're going to come out of the pensieve and write down everything we saw of note; especially all the crimes that have been committed. Understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Tonks instantly replied. "It's similar to one of the exercises we did in the Academy, when memories were taken of crime scenes."

Amelia had forgotten they did that. And that they did that just for this sort of thing. But, she wasn't going to let the young auror sitting before her know that.

Nodding, she said, "Yes; this is going to be just like that. And you also need to know that some of these are going to include incidences of child abuse, including vicious beatings. Do you think you have the stomach for that?"

With a firm and resolute countenance, Tonks immediately replied, "Yes, Ma'am."

"If you need a break at any time, let me know," instructed Amelia. "I won't think any less of you if you do. I daresay I'll be looking for breaks, too. And I've been at this a lot longer than you."

Tonks stayed resolute and replied, "Yes, Ma'am."

Nodding once in recognition she'd heard her, Amelia started with the vials that began one month before the start of the school year in 1991. She thought she'd get to all the beatings and the like once she and her young auror became comfortable working so close to each other and within the pensieve.

She had no idea there were also beatings between Hogwarts' years. That would come as a shock.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

As soon as Hermione found the abandoned classroom they'd been using to ready Harry for the first task - or, at least that's what she thought they were doing - she almost forcefully shoved Harry into a chair before beginning to pace in front of it while ranting away.

She never noticed the two aurors followed them in and, again, stood either side of the door.

"I can't believe those two... two... witches!" she snarled. Spinning about to stare at Harry she asked, "Do you know what they did and said to me as soon as they caught up with me in our room?"

"Of course not, Hermione," he calmly replied. "I was―"

"You weren't there!" she interrupted. "That cow, Brown, had the audacity... the sheer gall... to demand I tell her everything about you and what you'd done.

"When I refused, she and Patil drew their wands on me and... and... threatened me!"

As soon as the senior auror heard that he glanced to his junior female partner, who was now looking back, and flicked his chin in the direction of the door. The junior auror gave a curt nod and ducked back out of the room.

Hermione didn't notice, but Harry did. He just didn't let on he did as he knew what that suddenly disappearing auror was about to do. He felt Hermione might react very badly if she heard about it before it was all over and done.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

That afternoon the staff of Hogwarts who had been taken away by aurors of the DMLE, began to return. First back was Filius Flitwick, soon followed by Pomona Sprout and Minerva McGonagall together, with a very morose Rubeus Hagrid following not too far behind.

Those who did not return were Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Barty Crouch Junior, the real Alastor Moody and Poppy Pomfrey. The first three were being held in cells within the DMLE while Alastor Moody and Poppy Pomfrey were sent to Saint Mungo's.

At dinner that evening, those who'd returned except Minerva McGonagall, joined the student body and other staff in the Great Hall for their evening meal.

Just before the meal commenced, however, Filius Flitwick rose to stand on his chair and called for silence to make an announcement. The aurors who stood at the wall seemed unable to make a decision on whether or not to stop him; but, in the end, did not interfere.

"Students," he quietly began. When the noise dropped right down he continued to quietly speak. The nature of the magics of the Hall ensured his voice flowed right to the other end.

"I have an apology to make to you all," he said. "For those of you who were at the first task, specifically Lord Potter's task, you witnessed a great deal of his memories played in that projector pensieve he used. To the best of my own memory and irrespective of his own oath to its truth, it was the truth.

"I... currently face charges relating to my part in setting up those so-called traps in the third floor corridor back in 1991; that is, from the memory Lord Potter played where he and his two friends had to get past them to save the Stone from being stolen by a possessed Professor Quirrell."

That had a few students, especially in Ravenclaw, gasp in surprise and begin muttering between themselves.

"I'm also facing charges for not protecting students, as I'm required to do as a professor, from the dangers and treatment they faced or underwent," he continued, "To that end... I have learned that young Miss Lovegood of my own House - or, what was my House as I do not believe I'll ever have the honour of being the Head of it again - has been horribly mistreated by, especially, her own housemates. That ends right now.

"One thousand points from Ravenclaw for the bullying behaviour of the entire House!" he firmly declared.

That caused the House, as a whole, to gasp in shock. The same surprised gasps were coming from many others. Those blue gems that had somewhat filled the Ravenclaw House point counter immediately emptied out, leaving it completely bereft of points.

"Any and all things that have been taken without authorisation from Miss Lovegood - and, indeed, any other student - are to be returned by no later than 8.00am tomorrow morning. If Miss Lovegood does not report to me that all... all... of her personal possessions have been returned to her, then the DMLE will begin their own investigations. This is the decision of the current Acting Headmistress and Director of the DMLE, Madam Director Amelia Bones.

"Once that happens I have been informed the thieves will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Anyone then caught having stolen anything from anyone will be immediately suspended. If they are then found guilty of thievery, they will also be immediately expelled on the spot. They will not be permitted to return to Hogwarts - ever. You have been warned."

Then, without allowing the matter to be discussed, he called for the house elves to serve the meal.

Hearing the professor specifically ask the house elves to serve, Harry wondered, 'How long will it be until―'

"What did he mean by 'house elves'?" Hermione suddenly asked.

Harry mentally groaned and berated himself for tempting fate, like that. He already had to calm his best friend down once when she learned both Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were put through an interrogation by the aurors into what they thought they were doing making demands of her at wand point to provide information about him.

After being taken away for a period of time, both young witches returned to the Gryffindor tower shaken and in tears. Both then warned their housemates that questioning either Harry or Hermione about anything would be at their peril. The aurors did not lie.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

That evening, though she and Tonks were not able to get through all the memories Harry supplied her, Amelia believed she already had enough evidence to call for the trials of all of the individuals arrested. And, using her authority as Director of the DMLE, put out the official call for an emergency sitting of the Wizengamot in judicial, trial, form. It was for one of the few reasons she could put out the official call.

It was from those memories, especially the first ones, where she figured out just how Harry had made it look like the pensieve memories were interactive. They weren't, of course; he'd just set up the memories to appear as if they were.

'Clever boy!' she thought, with a smirk. "That was a nice bit of 'theatre'."

Of course, having now arrested the sitting Minister of Magic and outlining the charges he would face, she had to include that information in the call. She knew, though, that the call would only come as a shock to a small minority of the sitting members, as she doubted there would be many who had not actually been at the task to see it for themselves, had not already heard the news either directly off the WWN or through other means - such as personal spies within the Ministry, including her own department.

A clear example of that was when, during a short break when Amelia and Tonks stopped to take stock, the Minister's dumpy little 'pet' Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge, barged into her office. Before Amelia could even begin to ask her what she wanted the little woman began making demands and issuing threats. She demanded the immediate dropping of all charges and the immediate release of 'Cornelius', or those aurors who had 'overstepped the bounds of their authority' would soon be 'taking his place in that cell'.

Amelia heard out her first lengthy demand before she decided to ignore her, turned to look at her now open door and barked out, "Will someone please get in here and get this bitch out of my office?"

While Umbridge gaped back, utterly stunned that someone publicly spoke of her like that in her presence, it took a few moments before an auror finally, though tentatively, stepped through her door. It was Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Before Shacklebolt even got a chance to ask a question, Amelia fired an order at him. "Shack; get that..." she said, indicating Umbridge with a short 'point' of her chin, "... the Hell out of my office! If she so much as makes a single sound before you throw her arse out the door, you are to immediately throw said arse into a cell and charge her with deliberate interference of a DMLE investigation!"

"Yes, Ma'am!" Shacklebolt snapped back before marching the couple of steps to Umbridge, gripping her wand arm tightly with his off hand and forcibly dragging her from the office.

Umbridge, still too stunned to adversely react, was dragged out of the office without uttering another sound. She did not return.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Also released that day, but in the early evening, was Cornelius Fudge. He was given the same warnings about trying to flee the country and ordered to go home and remain there until he was called for trial. He was under house arrest.

Mentally beaten he did not try to argue against it. Instead, he did as he was told and went directly home; using the auror's floo in the auror bullpen once given leave to do so. He had no desire to go out into the 'public' areas of the Ministry building, just yet.

He'd just flooed into the welcoming parlour at the Minister's Official Residence - one of the major perks of the job - when he was confronted by Umbridge, who was apparently waiting for him.

"Oh, Cornelius!" she simpered, waddling towards him with her hands fluttering about. "I tried to beg that horrid Bones woman to release you―"

At first, Fudge was shocked to find the woman there. But, as she spoke, he began to lose his temper. Interrupting her, he barked,"Why are you in my home?"

Stuttering to a shuddering halt Umbridge gaped at him. "But, Cornelius!"

"How dare you let yourself in without my permission! Get out!" He roared, "Get out of my home!"

With only a long second of hesitation, due to the shock her 'beloved' Minister yelled at her, she finally hurried around him to the fireplace while giving him a wide berth. A quick dash of floo powder, a last look of surprise back at a still furious Fudge, and she was away.

Almost as soon as she was gone, Fudge appeared to almost deflate on the spot.

He knew he really shouldn't have yelled at her like that, but her standing in his home uninvited really annoyed him. It was as if she really didn't care about his privacy.

He stood ruminating on that for a few seconds longer before he went to the ward book and scratched her name off the list of those automatically permitted through the wards.

Before then putting the book away he decided to clean the entire book out of allowed witches and wizards. And removed quite a few other names, including Lucius Malfoy and Albus Dumbledore.

No one would be automatically allowed through, except for himself. He had no idea that, by doing so, he'd just saved his own life.

Once he returned the ward book to its secret niche he then returned to his desk, drew forth a fresh sheet of parchment, quill and ink, sighed and began to write his resignation from the office of Minister of Magic. It was either that, or wait a mere day or two before he'd be tossed out of the job. He had no doubt of that.

As soon as he finished writing the resignation letter and sending it to his own - now 'ex' - office staff, he ordered the Ministerial Residence elves to begin packing his personal effects and moving them to his secret 'bolt hole' escape home on the Isle of Mann.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Harry had taken time to explain to Hermione the symbiotic relationship between witches and wizards and house elves, but she still leapt to the false conclusion they were slaves, as he expected.

Once the earnest debate between the two of them wound down for the moment they were soon joined by Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons' champion and - Harry had learned - Veela.

"Monsieur Potier," she said, to gain Harry and Hermione's attention.

Looking up, Harry, pleased to have been interrupted, asked, "Yes, Mademoiselle Delacour?"

She gestured to the seat opposite and asked, "May I?"

"Of course," he immediately replied. "It was rude of me not to have offered you a seat already."

As the Beauxbatons witch stepped over the bench opposite, to then sit daintily thereon, he asked, "What can I do for you, Mademoiselle Delacour?"

"Well," she smirked, "Can you first introduce your friend?" And gestured to a slightly scowling Hermione.

"My apologies," he immediately returned. "Mademoiselle Delacour, this is Miss Hermione Granger." Then turning to Hermione, he said, "Hermione, this is Mademoiselle Fleur Delacour."

Reaching over with her hand held for a woman's handshake, Fleur said, "Please, call me Fleur."

"Hermione," said Hermione, taking the hand and giving it a curt shake. Hermione barely masked her irritation her discussion with Harry was interrupted.

Recognising and used to how other non-Veela witches would sometimes interact with her, Fleur chose to ignore it. "Thank you," she said.

Turning to Harry, she said, "Now, Mister Potier―"

"Harry," Harry firmly interrupted.

"'Arry, then," she said, with a slight nod back. "And, please, call me Fleur."

Harry gave a nod back.

"'Arry, I came to offer you an apologee," she said. "Actually, two apologies."

"Oh?" he warily asked.

"Oui," she replied. "I owe you an apologee from the night your name came out of zee Goblet of Fy-air. I made a... disparaging? - yes, disparaging - remark about 'ow you were just a leetle boy. Zat was both rude of me and uncalled for. For zat, I apologize.

"And, secondlee," she said, cutting Harry off before he could respond. "I also owe you an apologee for today. It was my oreeginal belief zat your way to... acqui-air your egg and complete your task was a direct... beleettling of we ozzer champions. I now know zat was not zee case. For zat, too, I apologize."

Harry heard her out and thought about how to respond before he actually did. The real Harry was not as 'knee-jerk' as the Harry he had been playing until today. And he now had to remember not to be that 'false' Harry he'd been playing for so long as a role.

Eventually, he gave a nod and said, "Both apologies are accepted in the spirit in which they were given, Miss Delacour."

She hesitated a moment, expecting Harry to say more. But, when he didn't, she gave a slight nod and said, "Zank you."

Again, she hesitated before she added, "I hope zat you would now considair me a friend."

"If you wish," he replied.

She again hesitated before she said, "I shall leaf you to your meal." Then rose, stepped back over the bench seat and made her way back to the Ravenclaw table.

Once she'd left hearing range, Hermione quietly said, "You could have invited her to join us, you know."

"I could have, yes," he replied. "However, just because she apologised does not mean I've yet forgiven her for her remarks. Give me at least a day to come to terms with that, alright?"

Hermione nodded and said, "Alright, Harry. Now, about these house elves―"

"Hermione," he firmly cut her off. "Clearly, me explaining the relationship between house elves and wizard kind is not getting through to you. You must either accept what I've told you and drop it, or you adopt your normal modus operandi, go to the library and check out a book or two on the subject. No matter how much you try to convince me that house elves are slaves, you will not succeed; because I know they are not. Therefore, I believe I'm done with this subject."

Though she initially recoiled in shock that Harry had cut her off, she rallied and said, "Alright, Harry. I can do that. And when I learn that house elves are, indeed, slaves?"

With a frustrated sigh, he said, "As I know you will not discover that, your question is moot. Will you drop it when you learn I'm right?"

Sadly, she said, "I don't know."

"Then I'll make it easier for you to understand, Hermione," he firmly said. "I will not allow you to continue to 'brow beat' me about any subject. And that includes about your erroneous opinion on the status of house elves.

"If you harp on about it any more, you will be putting our friendship at risk."

When Hermione appeared shocked by what he said, he continued, "Remember, Hermione; the Harry you thought you knew was only a role I was playing to hide who I truly am. As there is no longer a need to, I will no longer be playing that role. You need to understand and accept that.

"I - that is, the real Harry - likes you when you're not trying to force me to comply with your oft-times unreasonable demands. You need to figure out whether or not you like the real Harry. And you need to come to terms with that if you don't."

Hermione thought hard about that before she quietly, even meekly, asked, "Do you think I'm going to like the real Harry?"

"If you're able to somewhat curb your demands of him; yes," he replied. "It's up to you."

She sighed and gave a nod back. She just hoped the real Harry was someone she really liked. She had no idea what she'd do if he wasn't. She knew Hogwarts would become a lonely existence if she didn't.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Also returning home that evening was Molly Weasley. She was brought back by her husband, Arthur.

As soon as they had both stepped through into the living room at The Burrow, the Weasley family home in Ottery St Catchpole, Arthur was straight into asking his wife his own questions.

"Alright, Molly," he began. "First, I'm invoking Head of Family privileges and command."

Molly turned to him in shock. "Arthur?" she worriedly asked.

"I know the gist of what you told the aurors when they interrogated you, this afternoon. But I want the truth out of you, without any dissembling."

When he saw she understood he asked, "Were you on the muggle side of Platform nine and three-quarters at Kings Cross for Ron's first year at Hogwarts waiting for young Harry Potter to arrive?"

"Arthur, what a horrid thing to say," she tried.

"Answer me!" he barked. "Were you on the muggle side of Platform nine and three-quarters that year waiting for young Harry Potter to arrive?"

"Yes," she fearfully exclaimed. "Dumbledore alerted me to how young Harry might not know how to get onto the platform and asked me to keep an eye out for him," she replied, somewhat fearful.

"Has he ever asked you to wait there for any other student?" he demanded.

"No, just young Harry," she immediately replied.

"And that hasn't rung any ward-alarms for you? That he's only ever asked you to assist young Harry?

"No," she replied.

"And why did you break the Statute of Secrecy in the process?" he asked.

"I thought, if he heard me mention muggles and have Ginny mention Platform nine and three-quarters, it would attract him to us."

"And why didn't you cast a muggle Notice-Me-Not charm on yourself and the kids before you did that?" he pushed.

"I didn't think it would work!" she cried.

"It would have," he snapped back. "So, because Albus Bloody Dumbledore asked you to, you just decided to go ahead and breach the Statute of Secrecy, is that it?" he demanded.

"Albus said it would be alright and no harm would be done!" she wailed.

"He lied, you stupid woman!" he snapped. "No one, not even Albus Dumbledore, has the right to breach the Statute of Secrecy for something so inane as making it easy to have a little boy find them on a busy muggle train platform!"

He gave that a moment to sink in while his wife dropped into a kitchen chair and sobbed.

"It's not as if members of the Obliviation Squad could be brought in and fix it all up easy-peasy, either," he continued. "You were on a train station and trains are coming and going with great regularity. By the time Obliviators could get there to Obliviate everyone, hundreds would have already left either out the doors and away on foot, or in cars, buses or cabs, or on anywhere up to half a dozen different trains going in different directions. There is no possible way the Obliviators would have found them all!"

"That means, Molly, you are damned bloody lucky that nothing about you yelling about 'all these muggles', or having Ginny yelling about 'Platform nine and three-quarters', made it out into the wider muggle world. If it had you would now not have a clue as to your real identity as you would have had your wand snapped, your magic bound, been obliviated of all knowledge of the magical world and been tossed out into the streets of muggle London!

"You know this! It's one of the founding laws of our world! There are not that many crimes that are more heavily dealt with; and that includes the Unforgivables!

"If word had gotten out from that station into the muggle world because of your actions, the kids would now not have a mother, Ginny would have been sent to Muriel's because I wouldn't have been able to look after her and a host of other things I don't want to think about.

"You should consider yourself damned lucky the only punishment leveled against you is a hefty fine. A fine of such... volume... I'm going to have to approach as many family and friends as possible to accumulate enough money to pay it!"

"We don't take charity!" she wailed.

"Fine!" he glared back. "Then you'd best start showing me where everything is in this house for me to keep it clean and running. Because, if we don't seek help in paying your fine, we won't have enough. And that means... you are going to Azkaban for five years."

Molly burst into fresh wails and sobs. Arthur left her to it, not in the least interested at that time in providing her comfort.

"Next," he firmly said, "Tell me about the money that was being transferred from Lord Potter's vaults to one in your maiden name."

"I thought it was coming from Albus," she sobbed. "I had no idea it was coming from young Harry's vaults."

"You just got through telling me we don't accept charity," he said. "So, what was he paying you for?"

"He told me the money was from a scholarship fund specifically set up for pureblood families," she explained. "However, it had to go into a vault under my maiden name because House Weasley due to House Weasley's... status... was not eligible to receive the funds."

"uh-huh!" he said, not sounding convinced. "I thought you just got through telling me we don't accept charity."

"It's not charity, it's a scholarship," she immediately disagreed.

"It's not a scholarship, it's theft!" he yelled.

That had Molly sobbing again. Whether it was because she was truly sorry about what she'd done or because she was unhappy she'd been caught, Arthur did not know and also found himself not to care.

Not willing to belabour the point, Arthur dropped it and moved on. "The aurors have also ordered you... and, by extension, the rest of us Weasleys... not to have anything to do with Harry Potter, until further notice," he growled. "That means there will be no inviting him to stay with us, here; there will be no sending him Christmas or birthday presents; there will be no having the children do it for you; and, above all else but not limited to it, there will be no sending him any Howlers! Have I made myself perfectly clear to you, Molly Weasley?"

"Y-yes, Arthur," she sobbed.

"Now," he said much more calmly, "I have to go and write the children to let them know they are to stay away from Harry Potter, or else, for the foreseeable future. And that 'or else' will include being disowned from this family.

"We'll wait until he deigns to contact us! That is, of course, if he ever does."

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

The day was not a short one for Amelia. Though she often worked back, just to get all the parchmentwork that would pile up completed while the department was otherwise cleared down to a skeleton watch crew, this would be one day when she would have to work back and day-to-day parchmentwork wasn't going to get done.

The interrogations and interviews were held and completed. Those interviewed and not facing charges were released. Those interrogated and charged, but weren't considered flight risks, were conditionally released. But Dumbledore and Snape, due to the severity of the crimes they were facing, were taken down to the cells and incarcerated. So, too, were both Vernon and Petunia Dursley.

Once that was dealt with, aurors were sent out to confirm information the department had collected as a result of those interrogations and interviews. This would mean further interviews, but of people who would not necessarily be facing charges.

As they wanted to interview the rest of the staff of Hogwarts and there was quite a few of them, a small team of aurors went to the school with a couple of Dicta-quills. They then pulled each staff member not previously interviewed or interrogated aside and interviewed them as to what they knew of what Lord Potter had shared. Those interviews then led to a few more charges being filed against especially Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape.

The new problem was the 'clamouring' of the media. Within hours of starting the interrogations and interviews the number of journalists all wanting to know the latest information began to build right outside the auror bullpen. Amelia had already had to detail two aurors off to ride shepherd on them to ensure they did not interfere in the work the rest of her aurors were madly working through. Just a little while ago, she had to detail yet another onto the task.

However, she was finally ready to deal with them.

Walking out to the bullpen, as soon as the journalists saw her they began yelling questions at her. Used to the effect, she calmly walked to her podium she had aurors set up for her earlier and waited until the noise died down again.

Those journalists experienced with dealing with her knew she would say nothing until the questions and shouting died off; and quickly let their younger and newer fellows know it.

Once the noise died off she began. "Good evening," she said. "At approximately ten a.m. this morning, Mister Harry Potter stepped into the arena of the first task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was the fourth and final competitor to do so.

"It was expected he would simply complete the task, irrespective of how difficult it was, just as the competitors before him did. However, Lord Potter entered the arena with his own intentions in mind."

She then covered exactly what Harry did and how he did it. And then told them why.

Then she explained the actions she and her aurors took based on the information Harry had provided, together with who was taken into custody and who was, eventually, released.

And, finally, she told them the information relating to the charges and against whom they were filed was now subject to an information blackout 'to protect the reputations of both the witnesses and the accused'.

"Then what information can you tell us?" demanded one miffed reporter.

"I've just spent half an hour providing you that information," she snapped back. "Were you not listening?"

The journalist looked away and scowled as the next quickly got their question in. "Madam Bones, is it fair to target Albus Dumbledore when he helped rid us of the Dark Lord?"

"We are a society of law," she replied. "And no one, no matter what they've accomplished in the past, is excused from obeying those laws.

"I allege that Albus Dumbledore has broken so many laws that Lord Potter helped bring to light, I have no choice but to hold him in custody until he faces justice in the form of a full sitting of the Wizengamot. It will then be up to the Wizengamot on what penalty or penalties he shall face. It is not for anyone bar the full sitting of the Wizengamot to determine whether or not he is guilty of some or all of the charges he faces."

"As you've arrested both the Chief Warlock and the Minister," called another, "Are you looking to clear the way for your own ascension into the top tiers of our government?"

"That question is so stupid it does not even deserve a response," she flatly retorted. "However, I know you'd take that as affirmation.

"I have already told you that we are a society of law that not even Albus Dumbledore, no matter what hat he's currently wearing, job he's currently doing or his history is exempt from. The same also applies to the Minister.

"Further, I am the Regent of the Noble and Ancient House of Bones and the Director of the DMLE. That's more than enough of a job for anyone, including me."

Another journalist immediately piped up. "Madam Bones, do you believe you'll successfully prosecute these cases?"

"The prosecutor will likely be Rufus Scrimgeour," she replied. "And, before you ask, I will not be adjudicating the trials. The Chief Adjudicator has already been notified of the cases that will be brought before her. And preparatory documents for all the trials will be sent to her in advance."

"And what will your role be?" he immediately asked.

"Whatever the Chief Adjudicator tasks of me," she replied. "If and when necessary I will otherwise provide aid to Prosecutor Scrimgeour."

"Can you give us any specifics on the charges filed against any of them?" asked a rather earnest appearing female journalist.

Instead of shooting the young woman down, as was her first instinct, Amelia instead thought about it and replied, "It is both against DMLE policy and a breach of privacy to tell you specifics. However, if you were at the first task of the Tournament you'd have a pretty good idea what many of those charges will be."

Shifting her attention from the one young woman to the gaggle at large she said, "Now, you'll need to excuse me. While my aurors and I have completed the initial interviews and interrogations there is still a great deal more work to do. And I need to get back to it."

Without waiting to see if the journalists would allow her to leave, and knowing they otherwise wouldn't, she turned and walked back to her office. Those who hadn't had time to get in their questions tried shouting them to her as she left, without success.

They knew they wouldn't get their answers, as she never answered any question once she determined the doorstop 'interview' was over, but they always tried anyway.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

At Hogwarts, Hermione Granger was having her own issues. The first was discovering that her favourite professor, Minerva McGonagall, and the man she near-idolised, Albus Dumbledore, were not deserving of her favouritism or idolisation after all. And the second was being forcefully informed, by the boy himself, that he, Harry Potter, was not the boy she thought he was, either. It had all been a carefully crafted persona the boy wore to hide the truth about himself.

That he did it, not to hide from her but from Albus Dumbledore, was beside the point. She knew she shouldn't take it as a personal affront as she fully understood why he did it, but it still hurt a little. The Harry Potter she thought she knew wasn't real; just as the Harry Potter that was supposedly written about in those fanciful tales about his childhood wasn't real either.

That had been well-driven home when she tried to convince him that house elves were, in fact, slaves. That he then coldly informed her that she had no idea what she was talking about and then directed her to go to the library to learn the truth for herself, had also hurt. When she then tried to trick him into freeing the elves he'd bound into slavery once she read the truth and would inform him of such, he dismissively told her she would find no such thing and, therefore, her demand was pointless.

Of course, she immediately went to her 'haven', the library, and used her research knowledge to find all the information the library contained on the little creatures. She was determined to prove Harry wrong.

However, what she found astounded her. Harry was right. The elves weren't so much slaves as they were a symbiotic creature that shared of a witch's or wizard's magic to sustain themselves and, in return, provided services to the witch or wizard. And, further, the house elves could not take that magic unless a minor bonding ritual was completed first. If Harry, as she had demanded, released the elf, the elf would be unable to access that life sustaining magic and would slowly wither away and die after first going insane. She was horrified to realise she'd practically ordered Harry to kill the elf, Dobby.

"He was right!" she whispered to herself, appalled. "Oh, Gods! He was right!"

She needed to track him down and immediately apologise.

Once she'd reached her decision she quickly put all the books she'd taken off the shelves back in their rightful places on those shelves before hurrying off. She was in a hurry to apologise, but that did not mean she would not see to the rightful re-shelving of 'her' precious books first.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

What Hermione didn't know was that Harry was under his invisibility cloak and was watching her. He even heard her whisper to herself before she hurriedly starting putting books back onto their rightful places on the shelves.

As the cloak was able to be folded up into a very small package, Harry kept it on his person at all times ever since he'd once caught Weasley going into his trunk and taking things.

He'd also figured out that the cloak was also the third Deathly Hallow and knew the story. As Death was unable to find the third brother until he'd removed the cloak from himself, he knew Dumbledore had to have done something to it to allow the old man to see through it; as he clearly did the night he was under it in Hagrid's cabin when Fudge and Malfoy turned up to arrest the big oaf.

As soon as he'd figured that out, and after binding Dobby to himself, he'd had the elf inspect it. Dobby had found a few charms on it anchored to new stitching.

Having the little elf unravel the stitching, Harry had taken to carrying that thread around, so the old man would not know it had been discovered.

Once he'd discovered, or Dobby had discovered, that particular tracker-come-beacon, he had the little elf scan the rest of his property. And what a veritable panoply of charms the little elf found. Mail redirection, anti-scry, listening, confounding and anti-muggle notice-me-not jinxes; trackers; beacons; blood-based magics and others even Dobby did not recognise. After having Dobby muffle the listening charms, Harry then explained what he needed the elf to do.

Everything, except the anti-scry charm, was removed from Harry's personal property and transferred to a few inanimate objects Harry had then taken to carrying about on himself. He'd already figured out that, if he appeared to be free of them, the Headmaster would both want to try and figure out why and replace them. However, moving them to inanimate objects, meant he was able to leave them behind when he wanted to accomplish something without the old man knowing he had 'slipped his leash'.

One of those occasions was when Harry visited the goblins between second and third year. He'd left those objects back in his room in the Leaky Cauldron to ensure Dumbledore thought he'd not been in to see them.

Now he'd done the 'Big Reveal', as he called it, he'd watched Hermione head for the library and, while she was otherwise busy, headed out to the lake edge and banished those objects as far out into the water as he could. The only one he'd retained was the anti-scry ward; as Dobby had assured him it stopped everyone, including Dumbledore, from scrying his location. He wondered if the old man had stopped to think if it would or not.

It wasn't until a few moments after tossing them into the lake he realised he should have kept them and handed them over to Madam Bones. They were, after all, evidence of one of the 'crimes' of which he believed the old man guilty.

'Oh, well,' he had thought to himself with a mental sigh. 'She has more than enough to convict the old bastard, as it is.'

Now he watched as Hermione, his real best friend, discovered he was right and began to pack up. Knowing she would immediately seek him out, he beat a hasty but silent retreat back to the Gryffindor common room. He also knew the aurors would have already figured out he hadn't gone for a 'lie down' as he'd told them and were currently scouring the castle looking for him. He needed to get back to the common room and give them time to tell him off for disappearing on them before Hermione returned.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Making it back to the common room, and getting told off by the aurors as he thought he would, it was less than ten seconds later that Hermione entered and, as soon as she saw him on 'their' couch, headed to join him.

Sitting down she only glanced at him before averting her eyes downward and saying, "Sorry, Harry."

"Alright," he said. "What are you sorry for?"

"You were right about the house elves. They're not slaves," she quietly replied.

"Uh-huh," he quietly agreed.

"No 'I told you so's?" she asked.

"Nope," he replied. "No need."

She seemed to think for a long few moments before she almost plaintively asked, "Have I always been that bad?"

"Yes," he immediately replied.

When she winced he added, "You have this bad habit of accepting things as fact based on what you know from the muggle world. The magical world is not the muggle world, Hermione. There are many things in the wizarding world that have no contemporary in the muggle world. The issue of house elves and how they're symbiotic creatures is just one of those."

"But, it just seems so wrong!" she practically whined.

"It would be, if it weren't for the need of house elves to bond to stay alive," he said. "Plus, you also need to stop thinking of house elves as people. They're not."

"They might not be human, Harry," she argued; "But they are people. They're just a different sort of people to humans."

"Yes; different," he shot back. "As in not the same."

"But, they are a people," she said. "They're intelligent. They can speak. We can speak with them. They're capable of higher thought."

"And where do you draw the line regarding intelligence, Hermione?" he asked. "If not at house elves, what about: goblins, trolls, giants, centaurs, chimpanzees, bears or even dolphins? Where do you draw the line at what constitutes 'speak'?"

"I..." she stuttered, "I - don't know."

"Look," he said, trying to explain. "You were raised with wholesome Christian values in a modern British society - a modern muggle British society. In that society the next creature down on the list of intelligence is dolphins, followed by chimpanzees. And no one considers them people."

With a sigh he added, "This is not modern muggle British society; this is wizarding Britain. And it is effectively ruled by those whose understanding of muggle British Society is what they've seen out the front windows of the Leaky Cauldron, or what they've seen at Kings Cross Station, or what they've seen out the windows of the Hogwarts Express. Even then there are a great many who've not even seen that.

"Wizarding Britain, as a society, is closer to... say... Iran. Except, instead of it being a theocracy, as it is there, it's a... magi-ocracy. At least, that's the closest I could come to as an example. Those who have had magic in their families the longest, rule. Understand?"

Though she looked almost stunned at Harry's explanation, she replied, "Errr... yes; I think so."

"Good," he firmly stated with a short nod of his head. "Because, your oft-times negative attitude to certain 'traditions' of the magical world offends those raised in this world. And, it's not that they don't know any better, either. It's that they detest someone, like you, coming into their world and trying to force them to change. That attitude is no different than Muslims coming to Britain and trying to force everyone to start obeying Sharia law."

She thought about that for a few long seconds before she adopted a glum expression and asked, "Is that why some, like Malfoy, treat me so horribly?"

"That's part of it, yes," he replied. "But, Malfoy would still hate you, anyway. They've been raised on stories of muggleborns having somehow figured out how to steal magic from purebloods. Losing their magic scares the Hell out of them, so they hate muggleborns."

"But, that's just stupid," she frowned. "Where's their evidence?"

"No one ever said it was logical," he shrugged. "People hate what they fear, Hermione. The only way to fight that is to prove that muggles can't steal magic."

"That's impossible," she firmly stated. "You can't prove a negative."

"I know," he smiled. "That's why the issue has never been resolved."

She thought about that for a few moments before she sighed, "But, still... I almost forced you to kill Dobby by accident."

"No, you didn't," he disagreed.

She frowned and said, "But, Harry; you just got through convincing me that, if you'd freed Dobby, it would have led to him dying. And I almost forced you to free him."

"Yes, to the first part; no to the second," he replied. "You would have tried to force me to free to Dobby. But, there's no way I'd have done that."

Turning more fully to her he continued, "I knew the truth, Hermione. You might have continued to try to force me to release him; however, you'd have not succeeded. Actually, the only thing you would have succeeded in doing is, by pushing too hard, leading me to decide our friendship wasn't worth it and immediately terminating it."

Hermione looked back in near heart-stricken shock, unable to verbally form a word in response.

More softly he added, "I know it's going to take you a little while to come to grips with the new reality of just who 'Harry Potter' is, Hermione. And, I'm prepared to give you that little while. However... once again... I am not the Harry Potter you thought me to be. The quicker you come to an understanding of that the less problems you're going to face coming to an acceptance of that."

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

It was while Fudge was ordering the last of the packing during the early hours of the morning he was alerted by ward alarm to the attempted unauthorised entry of one Walden MacNair. Knowing the man was both a 'reformed' Death Eater and also on the 'payroll' of one Lucius Malfoy, Fudge was fully aware of what the very likely reason was of MacNair attempting to enter his, for the moment, home; especially during the early hours of the morning.

Against DMLE orders to remain under house arrest he immediately grabbed his secret and illegal portkey to his bolt hole, and portkeyed away. He'd much rather be a wanted man than a dead man.

Once he was at his bolt-hole home he'd owl 'that blasted Bones woman' why he took what action he did and hoped by Merlin she'd not charge him any further for it. At least, if she accepted his excuse, he'd at least not get the 'Wanted' tag applied to his name. He knew his order to have any escaped prisoners of Azkaban 'Kissed on Sight' was still on the books and he didn't want it to apply to him.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Dumbledore had spent the night in the DMLE holding cells 'knowing' he'd lost everything. He was so depressed over the whole incident he hadn't even thought to call his 'friend', Fawkes, to rescue him. He also had no idea his 'resident' spy and potions master was in the cell two down from him and also bemoaning his fate.

From what the boy had caused to be made public, besides him losing everything, apparently the goblins had discovered the truth about the monies and artefacts he'd removed from the boy's vault and had already recovered it all. His 'retirement fund' would have been stripped bare, as he knew there was less in it than the total he'd taken from the boy. It took a lot of money to bribe members of the School Board and the Wizengamot to make sure he stayed on as Headmaster, Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump. Through Fudge, Malfoy had been trying to wrestle those positions out of his grasp since that man ascended to the Head of House Malfoy on the (very suspicious) death of his father.

Now, even if he still had the gold available to him, he knew he'd not be keeping those positions. He'd now be Mister Dumbledore, once more. He'd not been Mister Dumbledore since well before the war with Grindelwald. Since the late 1920s he'd been at least Professor Dumbledore. And that was seventy years ago.

There was nothing he could do about that. Young Harry had well and truly fooled him these past few years and, as attested by the questions the Bones woman had asked him during his second interrogation, had provided her even more evidence of his illegal acts through those blasted memories of his. He'd used his best skills at dissembling interlocution and she'd fallen for none of it. Every time he tried to lead her away from the truth by leading her to make false assumptions, his usual method, she'd simply demanded he directly answer her question or be ready to be dosed with Veritaserum. She allowed him no 'wiggle' room, whatsoever.

He'd miscalculated when he'd demanded to be released or charged, because she did just that - charged him. It was only a couple hours earlier when she'd informed him his trial was already being arranged and he would not be released until that trial and, even then, only if they somehow found him innocent of all charges. Even he knew the chances of that currently rated at 'highly unlikely'.

In order to try and get some level of control of 'the message', he needed out and to be in contact with the media. That, though, was not going to happen. While he was being held in isolation people, especially the media, were in control of the information and were acting both without his guidance and ability to get ahead of things. As such he could not offer rebuttal.

It was maddening!

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Over at Riddle Manor, the current hiding place of the recently 'partially reborn' Dark Lord Voldemort, said Dark Lord was trying to use his very undersized and weak arms to read that morning's copy of the Daily Prophet.

He had seen what was reported about the Potter boy's 'play' of the first task and couldn't make heads or tails of why he did it. It confused him as to the boy's motives and that was a situation he was uncomfortable with.

From the articles, the way Potter went about it demonstrated a very cunning Slytherin mindset. He had a firmly captive audience and, apparently, no time limit. And then used both that captive audience and unlimited time to utterly destroy the reputations of the senior staff of Hogwarts - especially that of that muggle-loving fool, Dumbledore - the Minister of Magic himself, plus two Directors of Ministry departments.

The only thing he couldn't figure out was why. Nor did he know what the boy's actions would mean for his plan to have him at the graveyard the following June. For now, he'd wait and see what the fallout was going to be from the boy's actions; then make what changes to his plans he needed.

The paper already told him he'd lost young Barty as his on-the-scene spy. That meant Barty would also not be in a position to replace the portkey on the Cup to whisk the boy away from under the very crooked nose of Dumbledore, let alone organise for the boy to be the first to reach the cup. However, the end result did not actually need the boy to be taken at the completion of the third task; he just found the almost poetic justice of the concept had appealed to him.

Barty wasn't that much of a loss as, due to the inherent danger of his task, the information about why he was at Hogwarts was protected by both a Fidelius and a compulsion charm. No, young Barty would not be 'tattle-telling' anyone his true mission. Instead, he'd be telling them about how he was the sole planner and instigator of the Potter boy's name being submitted. He'd be telling anyone who pressed him for information he'd done it in order to see the boy killed through not being skilled or powerful enough to survive.

However, if they forced on him Veritaserum or some other truth telling potion or compulsion charm, the Fidelius and Veritaserum would conflict and cause young Barty to lose his life. They might suspect more to the story, but would not have the evidence to act. Instead, how he managed to get free of the prison in the first place would be promoted. In that way, Voldemort hoped the DMLE would be... misdirected... into investigating only that and not the plan for Potter now they had a 'red herring' to follow.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

At Hogwarts Minerva McGonagall had spent the time since her return to the castle, including deep into the night, in personal reflection.

After taking her breakfast in her rooms the next morning she finally decided she now needed to speak to someone and used her floo to contact her best friend and fellow professor, Filius Flitwick.

Taking a deep breath to steel her fortitude she dashed a pinch of floo powder into the fireplace. "Hogwarts, Charms Office," she firmly called.

Kneeling as soon the flames turned green and sticking her head within, she tentatively called, "Filius? Are you there?"

Stepping into sight from the side, Flitwick quietly but firmly said, "Step through, Minerva." The way he worded it sound almost like an order. However, with her mind elsewhere, McGonagall didn't recognise it and simply stepped through.

Almost relieved she stepped in and almost immediately stepped out into her friend's office. "Thank you for seeing me, Filius," she said.

As she was talking, Flitwick was walking around his desk to sit in his elevated office chair. Then gestured to one of the chairs opposite and said, "Take a seat, Minerva." Again, he used that flat commanding voice.

As she was already moving in that direction, unconsciously led by Flitwick heading for his desk chair, McGonagall again didn't recognise the lack of warmth in her friend's voice.

"I need... we need... to apologise to Mister Potter, Filius," she began. "I hadn't seen just how bad we've let that boy down until it was all laid in front of me by Amelia's aurors―"

"Stop, Minerva!" Flitwick snapped out, raising his off hand in the international accepted stop gesture of a flat hand with fingers together raised vertically with the palm facing out.

It immediately silenced McGonagall, who stared back in shock.

Knowing he now had her full attention, Flitwick continued to stare at her for a moment longer before, still using the same quiet but firm voice, said, "You do not need to apologise to Mister Potter, Minerva; you just want to apologise to Lord Potter. And, even then, it's for selfish reasons."

When McGonagall looked to be about to respond in defiance with hackles almost visibly raised, Flitwick's expression hardened and almost appeared as if he was going to growl back. Finally recognising the expression for what it was, McGonagall's whole attitude immediately changed and she almost cowered back into her seat in fear. "F-Filius?" she plaintively asked.

"The entire staff of this school have failed that boy, Minerva," he said, returning to the same flat commanding voice. It was a voice McGonagall now recognised as issuing from someone who had their occlumency shields at maximum in order to control their emotions. Once she recognised it, it was then easy to deduce that the emotion her long-time friend was trying to control was anger.

Continuing, he said, "For some - such as Bat and Septima, who have no direct contact with the boy - it was because they weren't carefully watching. And no one could, or should, expect them to given that there were other staff in more direct contact.

"For others - such as me, who does interact with the boy as one of his teachers - we weren't watching and were not alert for anything wrong, as we bloody well should have been.

"Then there's you," he snapped, with his anger starting to again bleed through his barriers. "You were supposed to be the boy's Head of House. Let alone also being the Deputy Headmistress it was your responsibility to ensure the boy, as with all other students, was safe. You failed!

"From the boy's memories I also came to the realisation you were partially responsible for the boy being placed into the supposed care of abusive muggles. That makes you guilty of child endangerment and child abuse by proxy. That you did it in collusion with Albus Dumbledore and Rubeus Hagrid adds the charge of conspiracy. And that was all within hours of the boy becoming an orphan.

"That you did it while Deputy Headmistress, irrespective of whether you were acting in that role at the time or not and that it was crimes against a child, makes you now ineligible to hold a position of authority over any child, let alone as a professor over students at this school.

"Until I was made aware of the level of abuse that's been hurled at the boy, even before he entered Hogwarts and was systematically abused here, I held both you and Dumbledore in high trust. Obviously, I was a fool to do so. My trust in either of you became less than floating dust in the shaft as of the moment I learned of it."

Lifting a finger into the air and pointing it at her to highlight his point, he continued, "Have no doubt, Minerva McGonagall, you failed that boy and, in the process, failed yourself. From that I firmly believe you're going to lose your job because of it. Then, because of my clearly misplaced trust in you and the old man, I believe I'll be losing my position as well.

"At the very least we're both going to be reduced to only professors. I already know I'm going to be losing Head of House status; and you're going to be losing both your Head of House status and Deputy Head positions."

Dropping her eyes as they began to moisten with unshed tears, McGonagall softly asked, "Perhaps if I can talk to him and apologise?"

Flitwick immediately replied, "Before you managed to say more than one word you'd be arrested again and charged with witness tampering. Then you'd lose your professorship, as well... if that's still on the table."

As McGonagall hung her head further in shame, Flitwick sighed and more softly said, "Actually, Minerva, I don't know if you're going to survive this, let alone remain a teacher.

"From what I've learned you were with Dumbledore and Hagrid when young Harry was pretty much literally dumped on the doorstep of his muggle magic-hating relatives. That, on the death of his father only a few hours earlier, he became the titular Head of a Noble and Most Ancient House at the time... as Dumbledore had no right to take the boy away from his rightful guardian... means you were an accomplice in the kidnapping of such a Head. And that could easily mean - should you be found guilty, of course - you're bound for a trip through the Veil or a kissing date with a dementor."

That she hadn't even twitched at mention of being executed, though she did squirm a little, meant McGonagall also realised the chance of her being executed was quite possible.

Finally, she looked back at her old friend with an almost pleading look on her face. She was wearing her heart on her sleeve.

"What do I need to do?" she practically begged. "What can I do? I'd hoped that... by at least apologising to the boy... it probably won't stop me being sentenced... but, it's still the right thing to do."

"That may be," he replied with a single nod back. "However, this has all now become an ongoing DMLE investigation. And that means you are not permitted to approach him in any way, shape or form. I've no doubt that, like me, you were warned not to do that by the aurors."

She nodded back.

"Then you cannot approach him to even apologise," the half-goblin firmly stated. "If you do, you harm your own defence. And that means any possibility of you escaping execution is reduced."

"I need him to know," she softly but just as firmly stated.

"Then, we shall raise it with the aurors and ask them first," he returned. "We will not, however, approach him directly."

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

A/N: Okay... That's five chapters to start things off. I wanted to get the First Task and the beginning of investigations out of the way. I'll be looking to post each successive chapter no further apart than once a week. Sinyk