Hermione Granger rubbed her eyes tiredly as she shut the book she
was reading with a snap. It was past six in the evening and she was
in the Hogwarts library, studying for her N.E.W.T.s that were
scheduled in two days. The stress of the exams was really getting to
her and she found herself snapping at several people over the past
few weeks.
Seven years ... it had been nearly seven years since she had
entered the magical world, and Hermione's life had taken a complete
turn since the day she found out about being a witch. Throughout her
childhood, there were instances and situations that happened that
she could never explain. Her parents were quite worried, but the
doctors could never find anything wrong with her. Finally, a few
weeks before her eleventh birthday, a woman named Professor
McGonagall had come to her house and informed her that she was a
witch.
Naturally, she had been ecstatic with the information she was given.
Her parents were leery about the concept of magic and about
sending their only daughter to an unknown place for ten months a
year, but Hermione had managed to convince them. After all,
Hogwarts was the best magical school in all of Magical Britain,
according to the good professor. Also, since she was born in
September 1989, she would have to wait a full year to attend
Hogwarts and that gave her enough time to buy books on magic and
be prepared for school. Her parents had been awed by what they
had seen in Diagon Alley too, and fully supported her decision in
studying magic before school started.
Her favourite book of all had been Hogwarts, A History. Professor
McGonagall had explained to her about the magical world, but
Hermione wanted to learn more. She was quite thrilled to read
stories about great wizards such as Godric Gryffindor and Albus
Dumbledore who fought for Muggle rights and defeated evil wizards
like Salazar Slytherin and Gellert Grindelwald. However, the more
she read, the more she thought that the magical world was very
backward. So much of what they did was so idiotic, in her opinion.
The concept of using birds for mail, quills and parchment for writing,
and gold coins for currency was archaic, while in comparison, the
Muggle world was so much more advanced.
Of course, she realised later that a few of her theories were wrong.
The magical form of parchment was used because paper would
dissolve quickly due to potion fumes (she had learnt that lesson the
hard way in her first year of school). But the very concept of blood
purity infuriated her! Hermione had been determined to get sorted
into Gryffindor when she arrived at Hogwarts because she looked up
to Albus Dumbledore and the founder of the house of lions, and thus
wanted to be like them. Gryffindor House seemed like the best of
them all, with their values of bravery and standing up to dark wizards
who wanted to harm Muggles. It was natural that she would be
drawn there.
When she first met Harry Potter, the famed Boy-Who-Lived,
Hermione had thought that he was a very cold person. The way he
contradicted her during the train ride only served to reinforce that
fact. She didn't bother talking to him after that incident because of
the jittery nerves of the sorting ceremony. Hermione remembered
that the Sorting Hat was quite convinced that she would do well in
Ravenclaw, but she had persisted, forcing the Hat to put her in
Gryffindor instead. Unfortunately, everything was not rosy in the
lion's den. She quickly realized that just like in primary school, she
had managed to alienate herself with her attitude. She had been
growing distressed as the weeks passed by, and Ron Weasley's
words on Halloween had only embarrassed her more.
Hermione didn't want to think about what might have happened had
the prefects not arrived in time to save her from the troll. She
probably would have died.
She was determined more than ever to study hard after that incident.
After Ron Weasley had tentatively apologised to her after the attack
by the troll, the two of them had become friends. She would help him
with his homework most of the time, but it was still friendship. At the
end of the year, she had been elated to find out that she had stood
first among all the students in Gryffindor, only for her happiness to
evaporate when she found out that she was not the first among her
batch in the school.
No, that title had gone to Daphne Greengrass. Harry Potter, the Boy-
Who-Lived, had never returned to their class after the Christmas
holidays. He had been accepted into the accelerated program at the
school. Hermione knew that the boy must have done it only through
his fame, for how could he have been offered that chance while she
hadn't? She was one of the top students in her year! She could
practically recite her textbook word for word! And yet, she had not
been offered the chance to be enrolled in the accelerated program. It
frustrated her to no end when she stood third in their year. In her
Muggle school, she was always first, and she hadn't been able to
digest this fact.
As the years passed, her irritation at Harry Potter only grew. No
matter what she tried, she could never beat him. He had swiftly
proved her wrong to show that he did indeed qualify for the
accelerated program by standing first in every exam. Even those
who were most vocal about their displeasure in him being in the
program had quieted down as Potter had won the respect of the
older students. By the time she was a fourth year, the boy who was
younger by ten months was a seventh-year student.
However, that was when the two of them began scraping shields.
When Hermione found out about the existence of house-elves, she
had been horrified. Never had she realised that Hogwarts was home
to more than a hundred slaves! She had gone to the library and read
about house-elves and realised that such slavery had existed for
centuries! Wanting to help those poor creatures, she began hiding
clothes in various parts of Gryffindor Tower, hoping that the abused
creatures would be set free due to her actions.
That was when Harry Potter had decided to show what a bigoted
person he really was. She had actually made progress, freeing a few
of the Hogwarts house-elves, and Potter had revealed to her that he
had re-bonded the elves back to the castle. She had been
apoplectic, and the situation only went downhill. Hermione couldn't
understand how Potter could ever think the magical world was as
advanced as the Muggle world. From her perspective, everything
was so backward! Their culture was barbaric, and they never wanted
to accept the new changes that Muggles were coming up with! She
had passionately spoken about Muggle-borns, only for Potter to
contradict her with names of famous Muggle-borns who had
achieved greatness. For everything she said, he had countered with
another claim about the so-called magnificence of the magical world.
Her annoyance with Potter never stopped. When You-Know-Who
had returned, Ron and Ginny's mother had invited her to stay with
the Weasleys for the summer for protection. Her parents had gone
abroad during the holidays, so she had happily accepted the offer.
She was ecstatic when she found out that the headquarters of the
Order of the Phoenix was in one of the Black family properties with a
library inside. Unfortunately, she had been unable to get in, despite
trying repeatedly. She had been annoyed by Dylan Lestrange's
statement about only family members being able to enter, but that
was not what drove her over the edge.
How was it that purebloods could perform magic during the holidays
while Muggle-borns like her could not? It was fundamentally wrong!
The law couldn't be selective, could it? Naturally, Potter being the
pureblood bigot that he was, had been quick to point out that the law
only existed for the protection of witches and wizards, and that it only
applied to children living in Muggle areas. Hermione was not
convinced. It sounded like a sham to her. Who else other than
Muggle-borns would live in Muggle areas? The law essentially forced
the Muggle-borns to remain downtrodden while purebloods could
perform magic at their leisure. What annoyed her most was that
Potter would convince everyone who was listening that he was
always right and that whatever he spouted had absolutely nothing to
do with blood purity at all!
She knew that it was a lie.
The Dark Arts ... that was when Hermione saw the true face of Harry
Potter. While she had grudgingly admitted that Daphne Greengrass'
move had been smart in creating the Defence Association, she had
been appalled when Potter taught them the Blood-Boiling Curse and
the Organ-Liquefying Curse. Those curses were never taught in
class. She found Potter very irresponsible in teaching so many
students how to cast it. Those curses were classified as the Dark
Arts for a reason, and it could have consequences in the future.
With that in mind, Hermione decided that she had to do something
about it, and as a responsible student and prefect, she had informed
Professor McGonagall about the D.A. Unfortunately, Greengrass
had, without the permission of any of the members, jinxed the
parchment, so that what she wanted to say did not register. Instead,
she had painted a target on Professor Snape's back. That had been
an unmitigated disaster. She had been questioned by Ministry
wizards who found the jinx in minutes. However, none of them
wanted to get rid of it.
Hermione personally felt that the Minister of Magic did not want his
godson in trouble. It infuriated her when Minister Black chewed out
Professor Dumbledore and had finally managed to get Professor
Snape sacked.
She had been horrified.
But that was not the tragedy ... You-Know-Who had apparently been
furious at his spy's dismissal from the Hogwarts staff. Less than a
week after Snape had been fired, Hermione was called to Professor
McGonagall's office where she was informed about her parents'
deaths. She had never been more grief-stricken in her life. Hermione
had taken an extended leave of absence from the school after the
attack. The tortured bodies of her parents still gave her nightmares.
She had cried for her mother and father, but it was no use. They
were dead, killed by the Death Eaters, and were not coming back.
She had returned to Hogwarts a month later, having completely
missed the Battle of Hogsmeade. Hermione was shocked to find out
that the war was over, and that Harry Potter had defeated You-Know-
Who, and that Professor Dumbledore had been bed-ridden.
For two years, Hermione had watched Potter and Greengrass from
the shadows. While she knew that the Death Eaters were
responsible for her parents' demise, that didn't mean those two
weren't culpable either! Had Greengrass not jinxed that sheet of
parchment, Professor Snape would never have been sacked, and
her parents wouldn't have been attacked because of it. Her anger
had increased slowly as time passed. When her sixth year started,
she was determined more than ever to make her parents proud and
to beat Greengrass in all her exams.
It was during her sixth year that Hermione also experienced the
pleasures of love. She had met Percy Weasley during her stay at
Grimmauld Place the previous year, and the two of them had got
along extremely well. Both of them had spoken about a variety of
topics then, bonding over their trust in those of authority and their
great ambition for their careers. That had continued in her sixth year,
and the two had become a couple. Percy helped her slowly get out
of the depression she had seeped into after her parents' deaths,
sharing his own experiences of how he dealt with his father's death.
As the end of year exams approached, Hermione had tried her level
best to beat Greengrass, only to find out that the Slytherin was not
writing her sixth-year exams, but instead, was writing her N.E.W.T.s.
She had immediately gone to Professor Flitwick, the deputy
headmaster, to demand an explanation, only to be told that
Greengrass had already passed the sixth year exams and after her
teachers had agreed, had been allowed to take her N.E.W.T.s one
year in advance.
Hermione had been bitter about that, not to mention very jealous and
angry. The girl who had essentially created a scenario that caused
her parents to be murdered had been allowed to skip a year? It was
pureblood propaganda all over again! Hermione was sure that the
only reason the Slytherin had been given that privilege was because
she was a pureblood with parents who were wealthy.
She had tried to take her N.E.W.T.s as well, but her teachers had
refused. While she could no doubt pass her Transfiguration, Charms
and Potions exams, there were several other subjects that were new
to her. She had taken the maximum possible subjects, even going so
far as to study others on her own. She hadn't been able to cram a
year's education in one week. Hermione had been forced to watch
as she topped the exams. The only problem was that Greengrass
wasn't even on the list of the sixth-year students anymore.
Furious tears pricked Hermione's eyes when she glared hatefully at
the couple she had just been thinking about. Those two had directly
or indirectly, intentionally or unintentionally, rendered her an orphan.
And this time, she wouldn't stew in the shadows. She would demand
an answer from them!
"Miss me?" whispered Harry, nibbling on her earlobe delicately.
"You have no idea," replied Daphne softly. She turned around and
threw her arms around his neck, giving him a tight hug. Harry smiled
as he lifted her off her feet, lighting twirling her about as he captured
her lips in a searing kiss.
"Congratulations, egghead," she smirked. "Six Master's degrees, I'm
impressed."
Harry simply rolled his eyes at the 'nickname' that Dylan had come
up with. How that brat convinced Daphne to use it, Harry had no
idea. "How has it been around here?"
"Nothing new, really, though Granger looks like she's going to burst
due to the stress."
He raised an eyebrow. "I guess she didn't like the fact that you took
your N.E.W.T.s early?"
"No," confessed Daphne softly. "She never confronted me, but I did
hear rumours that she didn't like it. Apparently, she went to Professor
Flitwick and asked if she could take the exams early too. Flitwick
spoke to her teachers, and many of them felt that Granger wasn't
ready to take them yet. While she is quite talented in magic, the new
subjects in the curriculum are not something she is familiar with.
That didn't stop her from taking as many subjects as possible,
though."
"I heard that she's even taking a few without attending classes."
"Yes. She's running herself ragged, and I can't help but feel bad for
her; I know how I've slogged over the past year for these two
Master's degrees, it certainly wasn't easy. It must be hard, losing her
parents so suddenly. I heard that she's trying for a position in the
Ministry, but not sure which department."
Harry hummed as they headed towards the door. "Come on," he
muttered. "Let's head back to our suite."
She laughed. "You might not what to go there just yet ... not unless
you want to catch Dylan and Astoria having sex in our common
room."
Harry's lips curved into an amused smile. "Well then, my Lady, will
you please accompany me to the Room of Requirement? I have a lot
to tell you about my meeting with our esteemed Minister of Magic."
Daphne's eyes lit up. "You spoke to your father about Camelot?" she
whispered excitedly.
"Yes, and he's on board. Stage one has begun."
Daphne's face turned serious immediately. "Are you going to venture
out later tonight?" she asked.
"Yes," replied Harry, his face darkening. "I need to know, Daph. We
can't proceed with stage two unless we know the real-life scenario.
Will you come with me?"
"You know I will. Dylan has finished compiling the list. He – hello,
Granger, is there something we can do for you?"
The couple stopped at the entrance of the Restricted Section of the
library as they spotted Hermione Granger standing in front of them.
They looked at her with their faces devoid of emotion. The two of
them hadn't spoken to the girl since the day the secret of the
Defence Association had nearly been ousted.
Hermione's red-rimmed eyes glared furiously at the couple in front of
her. "I've tried to bury my anger at you both for two years," she said
waspishly, her eyes filled with tears. "But we'll all be leaving school
soon and I wanted to get this out of the way. I want you to know that
I will never forgive you for your actions."
Daphne frowned as she casually cast a silencing charm around them
with just a hand gesture. Harry simply raised an eyebrow at the
bushy-haired girl.
"And what exactly did we do?"
"Your actions caused the deaths of my parents!" yelled Hermione
angrily, tears streaming down her face.
Both Harry and Daphne's expressions hardened. "You have our
condolences for the deaths of your parents, Granger," said Harry
quietly. "But please, tell me, how were we at fault?"
Hermione's parents had died two years ago, just a couple of days
before the Battle of Hogsmeade. Voldemort had not been pleased
that his trusted spy had been forced to leave Hogwarts and had his
displeasure shown – Hermione's parents had been targeted. The
Ministry hadn't known about it because no flashy spells were used
and no Dark Mark was cast over the sky until after the incident. By
the time the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol had arrived at the
scene, it was already over. Hermione's parents had been tortured
and killed.
"It was you who made us sign on that blasted sheet of parchment!"
spat Hermione. "Why did you have to enchant it like that? You could
have jinxed it another way! You could have caused pimples to sprout
on the face of the person, you could have made their hair turn
purple, you could have –"
"None of those measures would have kept the existence of the DA a
secret," said Daphne sharply. "I only cared about efficiency, Granger,
not embarrassment. Voldemort was doing his best to stamp out
every source of rebellion, and that meant poorly educated students
graduating from Hogwarts. We formed the DA that year only so that
people could defend themselves, and it certainly helped! For your
information, many of the teachers here also suspected that there
was something going on. Two hundred students cannot disappear
without raising suspicion, but they too didn't interfere because they
wanted us to learn. My goal was to keep the knowledge of the DA
away from Dumbledore, Snape and Voldemort. Had Harry not taught
so many people, the Battle of Hogsmeade would have been a
massacre! I warned everyone that they couldn't tell the teachers
about it. I said couldn't , not shouldn't . It's not my fault that you
chose to betray us!"
"I would never have spoken to Professor McGonagall had Potter not
taught us the Dark Arts! Those curses were lethal and are
considered dark for a reason!"
"I distinctly remember giving a lecture about the concept of light and
dark," replied Harry, his eyes narrowed. "I never forced the theory
down your throat, Granger, nor did I force anyone to cast those
spells. I don't believe in the concept of magic being branded like
that."
Hermione snorted. "If great wizards like Albus Dumbledore believed
that the Dark Arts were bad, who are you to protest against it?"
The couple stilled and their auras lashed out of their bodies at the
very mention of the deceased headmaster. The air thickened with
raw magic and their eyes began glowing with suppressed rage.
Hermione actually shuddered involuntarily as their presence
enveloped the room.
Albus Dumbledore was a topic neither of them wanted to talk about.
"Leave that bastard's name out of this discussion," said Daphne in a
low voice, squeezing her fiancé's hand comfortingly to calm him
down. "We don't care about Dumbledore; never have, never will. I'm
sorry that your parents were attacked by the Death Eaters, Granger,
but you were not the only one who was targeted. Dylan and I were
held hostage by Voldemort for a month before we broke ourselves
out. Bellatrix Lestrange tortured us every day , and trust me, it was
not an experience I would recommend to anyone. Don't blame us
just because you see everything in black and white. Harry and I did
not force you to attend the DA meetings; you chose to do that on
your own. You had no right to stop others from learning just because
you felt it isn't right."
"It's the Dark Arts!" shrieked Hermione.
"No, I never taught you the Dark Arts," said Harry, his voice very soft.
Daphne grimaced. Unlike her, Harry never raised his voice when he
was angry. The calmer he appeared to the naked eye, the softer his
voice, the angrier he was. Harry's eyes were jet black, and that
meant he was furious. She didn't blame him. He was very protective
of her, and Granger blaming Daphne for her parents' deaths was no
doubt annoying the hell out of him. Her left eye was twitching in
irritation too. Unknown to Daphne, her deep blue eyes were glowing
an eerie white.
"What I taught you was magic that is considered grey. Most of it is
included in the current Offensive Magic curriculum. The curses I
demonstrated are not taught at school, but I assure you, they are
very much a part of the training that Aurors and Hit-Wizards go
through before they reach professional level. You can never defend
yourself unless you know what you're up against. We were at war .
Just because you wanted to continue living in a bubble didn't mean
that everyone else did. Had you been at home when your parents
were attacked, and the Death Eaters were throwing curses
everywhere, how would you have defended yourself against them?
Could you have identified the Blood-Boiling Curse or would you have
mistaken it for a stunner? Would you have been able to reserve the
Sectumsempra curse? I taught them for a reason! I wanted you all to
survive! "
"Grow up, Granger," said Daphne, her upper lip curling in distaste.
"You're a smart girl, but if there is one thing I have observed about
you over the years is that you're painfully limited. Narrow. Close
minded. If you want to blame someone for the deaths of your
parents, blame the Death Eaters. Don't you dare point your finger at
us. It was your fault for being such a tattletale. Now if you'll excuse
us, we have some business to attend to. Have a nice life, Granger."
Harry's blackish-green eyes loomed over the bushy-haired girl as he
followed his fiancée out of the Restricted Section. He was still
seething. Her fingers intertwined with his.
"Forget about her, Harry," Daphne said quietly. "She's not worth our
time. We have bigger fish to fry."
Harry took a deep breath as he nodded. Hermione was still glaring at
them hatefully, her cheeks stained with tears. She clenched her fists
angrily.
No matter what they claimed, Potter and Greengrass had blood on
their hands – the blood of Hermione's parents. Those two were up to
something. And Hermione vowed to herself that she would do her
utmost best to make her parents proud. She would rise above Potter
and Greengrass and drag the wizarding world out of the middle ages
to the enlightened and developed age of the Muggles.
With her intelligence and dedication, nothing was impossible.
Two figures quietly made their way out of Hogwarts using the secret
passageway that the Shrieking Shack offered. Covering their heads
with their hoods, masking their faces with a glamour charm, the
figures stealthily walked towards the end of the village. It was just
past eight, and the village was bustling with activity. Even the Hog's
Head was surprisingly full.
"Can you imagine how this village would turn out if it's converted into
a magnificent city?" whispered Harry.
Daphne hummed in agreement. They reached the Apparition point
and with barely a whisper, they disappeared. When they reappeared,
they were in a dark alley.
"Come on," muttered Harry. "Which is the first orphanage we're
going to visit here?"
"Looks like Dylan was quite sentimental when he made the list,"
replied Daphne, gazing at a sheet of parchment. "Our first stop is
David's orphanage for children."
Harry's eyes darkened at the very mention of the place that his
beloved little brother had grown up in. Night had crept up on the city
of Edinburgh. The couple silently walked towards the old building,
the exterior doing nothing to hinder their anger and despair.
"I can't believe that he grew up in such filthy conditions," whispered
Daphne furiously. Harry silently nodded, memories of his cupboard
under the stairs at Number Four, Privet Drive, flashing before his
eyes.
The two of them were quick to cast Disillusionment Charms on
themselves as they entered the building. For nearly fifteen minutes,
they silently watched the children interact. Daphne finally snapped
her fingers, wandlessly scanning the building for magical activity.
They found five children. Five abused children.
"It looks like they haven't learnt their lesson after what happened to
Dylan," spat Daphne angrily.
Harry's upper lip curled in distaste. While he hated Voldemort with a
passion, he never lost the sympathy he had felt for the boy Tom
Riddle. Harry had seen nearly all of Tom's memories and combined
with his own experiences and Dylan's, he had decided to check if
there were indeed magical children out there in Muggle orphanages.
They wouldn't allow magical children to be abused like this.
Memories of the exorcism that he had undergone, that Tom had
undergone, that Dylan had undergone flooded into his mind.
All three boys had been scarred permanently due to that horrifying
incident, and he was not stupid enough to believe that other magical
children raised by intolerant and illogical Muggles did not have to go
through the same.
They quietly walked up the stairs and kept a keen eye on where the
magical children were being held. The door to their left opened with
a bang, and the matron was bodily thrown out of the room.
The Banishing Charm. Accidental magic.
The woman got up, spluttering, her face writ with anger. "How dare
you?" she shrieked. "How dare you attack me, you little brats? First,
you pull that stunt at school this morning, and now you do this? I'll
put an end to your – your unnaturalness – if it's the last thing I do!
You're just like that freakish Lestrange boy!"
Harry's eyes were black as the cosmos, and he was completely still.
His blood was boiling. No matter what these people claimed to the
outside world, the children in orphanages were never treated well.
The state of the building was enough to let him know that. Dylan had
confided in him that they had always been short of funds. The air
was stale, the floor filthy, and the bathrooms were in the worst
conditions possible. The beds were also old and not replaced. They
stank badly due to repeated bedwetting caused by little children,
never thoroughly cleaned or dried by the caregivers in the
orphanage.
Neglect was commonplace. Since there were hundreds of children
and so few adults to care for them, bullying was rampant. Infants
were quiet because there was no adult to give them any sort of
attention. Dylan had survived in such a place for eleven years, with
people constantly tormenting him and beating him up. Due to lack of
personal possessions, anything the children owned was treasured
jealously. It was human nature, and Harry remembered his own
instances of such when he was at the Dursleys. Unknown to anyone
other than Daphne and Dylan, he still had his old baby blanket in his
closet at Potter Castle. Tom Riddle had been the same. The
caregivers were overworked and irritable and took their frustration
out on the children. There were too few adults to care for too many
children. That led to more problems.
But the problem was much worse when it came to Muggle-born
orphans. Dylan had researched thoroughly over the past several
months and had been startled to realise that nearly ninety per cent of
children living in orphanages were not true orphans. They were
mostly abandoned by single parents ... or in the case of Muggleborns,
due to their freakish powers.
No matter how much Harry despised them, he could understand that
the Dursleys had been scared of magic. According to his mother's
journal, Petunia had been terrified ever since Snape, in his emotional
state when he was a boy, had accidentally caused a branch to fall
very close to Petunia's head. Muggles couldn't understand or deal
with accidental magic because they didn't know what it was. They
thought there was something strange going on with their children,
but no doctor could ever find anything wrong, physically or mentally.
How could they? Because there was nothing truly abnormal with the
children – they were behaving normally by performing accidental
magic.
Such unexplainable behaviour usually terrified Muggle parents, and
as an extension, Muggle-born children as well. Like most of the
country's population, only a select few Muggle-borns too were invited
to study at Hogwarts. The rest, like the other purebloods and halfbloods,
joined the other smaller schools of Magical Britain. While
there were some rare cases like Lily Potter's parents who were
ecstatic at the fact that their daughter was magical, that was a
minority. Majority of the Muggle parents were very leery or downright
hateful of magic. 'Freakish' was a word that was not invented by
Vernon Dursley. It was used by several others as well. Being away
for ten months a year, without much contact caused a rift between
Muggle-borns and their parents.
Serena Miller was not the first, nor was she the last to be ostracised
by her family for being magical.
While some parents continued to raise their magical children due to
their love for them, others just couldn't handle the unnatural
behaviour their offspring exhibited. Such magical children were
usually abandoned in orphanages. Harry wondered if there were
other magical children abandoned on the streets as well.
The situation was chronic , ignored by the magical government for so
long because of their bigoted pureblood ways.
Not anymore , Harry vowed to himself. Muggle-borns would never be
mistreated and the children would never be abused, by both
Muggles as well as wizards. These people had suffered enough.
He snapped out of his musings when Daphne Confunded the
matron. The powers of the Deathly Hallows were truly spectacular.
He, Daphne and Dylan did not truly need a wand to wield magic.
Their fingers acted as magical foci and they were more powerful
than anyone in recorded or unrecorded history. However, they still
did use wands in public. There was no need to attract unwanted
attention.
Daphne swiftly altered the woman's memories and sent her back
downstairs. The couple slowly removed their glamour and
Disillusionment Charms and entered the room. They grimaced when
they saw a boy and girl shivering in fright.
Harry stood back in silence as Daphne moved forward to introduce
herself, her magic slowly engulfing the orphans in order to calm them
down. While he got along swimmingly with Rigel, he still was not
comfortable dealing with children, so he let his fiancée handle them.
Had the situation not been this grave, he would have smiled at the
way Daphne soothingly spoke to the little witch and wizard. She was
a lot better at handling children than he was.
The couple walked out of the orphanage nearly an hour later, having
spoken to all five magical children – after Daphne healed their
injuries, of course, and given them food to eat. The two had assured
them all that they would be rescued from the orphanage soon. Dylan
had been right. Out of the five children here, three of them had been
abandoned by their Muggle parents. The six-year-old girl had still
been crying for her mummy and daddy, leading to more cases of
accidental magic that no one at the orphanage could explain. The
children had been very hesitant and leery of the two strangers, but
Harry and Daphne had managed to give them something that would
sustain them for a few more weeks – hope .
And they were determined not to shatter that hope.
"Why doesn't anyone keep tabs on these orphanages?" asked
Daphne through gritted teeth as they walked out of the building.
"They're malnourished and traumatized!"
He snorted. "The Muggle government doesn't care because they're
lowly orphans and the Ministry of Magic doesn't care because they're
lowly Muggle-borns. Bloody selfish bastards. Can you imagine the
plight of such children? They're abandoned in the Muggle world, and
once they're brought to the magical world, they're shown that they're
inferior as compared to arrogant purebloods who blindly follow
Voldemort's propaganda. Then there are others like Dolores
Umbridge who would literally massacre these Muggle-borns because
of her own hatred and self-importance. We cannot let this continue,
Daph. I won't let other children grow up the way I did, the way Dylan
did."
Daphne took a deep breath to reign in her anger. Magic was swirling
around both of them and the concrete road beneath their feet
actually cracked due to their rage. "One down," she muttered, "one
hundred and twenty-seven to go."
The couple walked back to the dark alley and Disapparated to their
next destination.
They didn't return to Hogwarts for the next five days.
Harry Potter opened his eyes groggily. He blinked, trying to decipher
his dark surroundings. With just a thought, he activated the lightning
charms to a dim setting and immediately recognized the Slytherin
colours and the crest that on the wall behind the expansive bed at
the far end of the room.
He was in his bedroom at Black Manor, sitting on one of the reclining
leather armchairs by the fireplace. A fond smile formed on his lips
when he saw the little boy that was curled up on his lap, the familiar
mop of wavy blue hair quite familiar. He chuckled as he placed a
gentle kiss on his youngest brother's head, enjoying the warmth and
comfort of the embrace of the five-year-old Metamorphmagus.
Gently carrying Rigel to the bedroom that was next to his, Harry
placed the child on his bed and tucked him in. Kissing his brother on
the forehead once more, he walked out of the room. He checked his
wristwatch and realised that it was dinnertime. He must have drifted
off to sleep after talking to Rigel for so long.
"Had a nice nap?" asked Amelia, smiling fondly at him. "You both
looked too adorable for me to wake you, so I decided to simply take
a picture instead."
Harry chuckled as he took a seat at the dining table, piling his plate
with food. Sirius had gone to Japan for a diplomatic meeting so it
was just him, Amelia and Rigel at the manor. Dylan was still not
home because his O.W.L.s were going on at Hogwarts, and Daphne
was in New York City, presenting her papers to acquire her Masters'
in Charms and Arithmancy.
"Sirius informed me about your plans for the cities," said Amelia,
after swallowing her food. She laughed. "Why do you want to name it
Camelot , anyway?"
Harry shrugged. "The ancient city has been lost due to war. So much
of our culture emerged from the original Camelot millennia ago, so it
is fitting that if we were to build another city that looks after the
affairs of Magical Britain – Avalon – it would be named after King
Arthur's capital."
Amelia hummed. "I'm impressed with your plan, Harry. Convincing
witches and wizards to relocate from Diagon Alley and other Muggle
populated areas will not be a problem, but I do believe that the
goblins will throw a stink."
Harry cringed slightly. He knew that too. While he was on good terms
with Ragnok, the bank manager of Gringotts London, he knew that
wizard-goblin history was not pretty. Relocating Gringotts would not
be easy and convincing them would be harder than trying to tame a
Nundu!
"One step at a time, Mum," he replied grimly. "We can deal with
goblins later. But I have something else for you that needs
immediate attention."
"Oh?"
Harry took a deep breath. "I've found out something you're not going
to like. What do you know about Muggle-borns living in Muggle
orphanages?"
"Not much," frowned Amelia. "It doesn't fall under the purview of my
department. Wizarding Children Services handle such matters, and
they're an independent office. Why?"
"Daphne and I spent the last five days touring the various Muggle
orphanages all over the British Isles," Harry answered softly. "And
what we found wasn't pretty. There are over a thousand abused
magical children living there, unnoticed by the Ministry."
Amelia did not miss the raw anger that Harry was displaying. Was
such a situation really overlooked?
"Go on," she said slowly. Amelia listened to Harry's report for the
next hour. They finished dinner and adjourned to her study, and by
the end of his tale, she too was furious.
"Why hasn't this been reported?"
"Do you think people like Cornelius Fudge or his predecessors
cared?" he shot back. "Look what happened to Tom Riddle. He
begged Dumbledore to let him stay at Hogwarts during the holidays,
but the sanctimonious old goat believed that Riddle had to get over
his hatred for Muggles and sent him back to the orphanage! The
same orphanage where Riddle had been raised during the Muggle
Second World War! When the city was being bombed! Maybe
Dumbledore was not aware of the extent of the abuse, but he should
have at least done something ! He was the deputy headmaster; it
was his duty to act when his students come to him for help.
Unfortunately, he didn't. He never trusted Tom Riddle and didn't want
him at Hogwarts during the summer months, which is
understandable, but that inaction led to the rise of Lord Voldemort.
Tell me, what did Dumbledore do later when he was elected as Chief
Warlock? When he knew of the problem and didn't do anything, do
you honestly think the bigoted purebloods who dominated the
Wizengamot at the time would lift a finger?"
Amelia took deep breaths to calm herself. Her son was right. She
grabbed a sheet of parchment and a self-inking quill. "You and
Daphne spoke to those children, didn't you?" she asked curiously.
"What did you tell them?"
He paused. "We told them that we would get them out of the
clutches of those Muggle caregivers in a few weeks. Is it possible to
push a bill through in that short time?"
"A few years ago, it would have been impossible, but today, that's
not the case. We do pull quite a few strings in the Wizengamot,
Harry. Let's get the salient points of this bill out of the way. I'll get the
D.M.L.E. lawmakers to draft the bill that can be tabled before the
Wizengamot next week."
Harry mentally smiled as the two of them discussed the provisions of
the new bill pertaining to magical orphans.
Stage two of his plan was underway