A Much Deadlier Tournament Chapter 12 (Patreon)

Chapter 12:

***

Severus sat across from Albus. That morning’s copy of the Prophet splayed on the desk between them.

The front page article made Severus’ hangover all the worse. Albus picked up the newspaper and read it.

“Five Slain in Oban. Dark Mark appearing above site of the massacre.” His headmaster read off. “Of the five slain, three were seemingly by a werewolf. The appearance of the dark mark indicates that former followers of You-Know-Who are reuniting under a new banner. It is pure conjecture at this point, but some experts believe Sirius Black is putting together the old crew and has already recruited Fenrir Greyback and one other assailant.”

He hummed and looked at Severus curiously.

“Terrible news. To think that mass murderer may be collecting followers.” Albus said without a hint of irony.

“Well, if you were to finish reading the article you would find that all five of those slain were foreigners. And one was killed by an unknown cutting curse.” Severus explained.

Albus hummed again.

“No doubt a dark curse invented by a Death Eater.” He said.

Severus actually struggled to keep his own straight face at that remark.

“To compound the issue, I have memories of last night. And am suffering the side effects of an amnesia inducing potion. And happen to be missing one from my stock.” Severus goaded further.

“That is certainly strange, but nothing suspicious enough to have you connected to any crimes.” Said Albus. “In fact, it could never be proven that you took such a potion. Your suspicions aside.”

He was right. As obvious as it was to him what happened the night before.

He, Remus Lupin under the effects of Wolvesbane, and Sirius Black had hunted down the death cultists who attacked Harry and his little girlfriend and put an end to them. Sirius was likely the brains behind the strike, already being a convicted mass murderer he could plan it out and carry it out without an amnesia potion with no worries. And Remus wouldn’t remember anything from while he was transformed anyways.

It was the perfect crime. He wondered at how little Albus actually knew about it and how much plausible deniability he had. Probably just as much as Severus and Remus. Sirius really did take the brunt of the risk on this one.

But then again, what were they going to do? Have the dementors kiss him twice? He really ought to make a suicide pill and false tooth for the man. Just in case he was ever captured he could avoid implicating anybody else and avoid getting the dementors kiss. He was sure he could come up with a concoction that even a mountain of bezoars couldn’t cure.

But those fuckers tried to murder the son of Lily and James. So they had to die.

“What of Potter?” He asked.

“He has stolen from me my defense against the dark arts teacher, hiring him as a personal bodyguard. I hope to find a new one by the end of the weekend.” Albus said. “If only I had a member of staff willing to volunteer for it, one in a role much more easily replaced.”

Severus smiled a genuine smile at the offer. There was no point in discussing things further. They both knew his answer. He had to admit though, he was curious who would be taking over potions from him.

“And is Potter staying out of trouble?” He asked. “Or has he gone off to have a fist fight with ogres while I was going on the bend last night?”

Everyone knew he was a responsible drinker, which made the cover story all the more amusing.

“He had decided that he wants to be emancipated. And is working diligently to that goal.” Albus explained.

Severus groaned.

“He’s doing it the hard and long way, isn’t he?” Severus asked rhetorically.

“Indeed. He came to me once intent on asking for my help, but I was busy with a meeting at the time. He did not try again.” Albus explained.

Of course. As always the moment he meets a single bit of resistance or delay he goes straight to taking things into his own hands. No matter how minor.

“And he didn’t think to ask anybody else? I all but invited him to ask me during our chat.” he said.

“Chat?” Albus asked, giving him appraising look he didn’t appreciated one bit. “And I think his experiences in asking for help have trained him to seldom do so.”

“He’s asked for help before?” Severus asked, nonbelieving.

“Oh yes. All the way back in his first year at this institution. He and two other first years pleaded with Minerva about the imminent theft of the stone. Only to then be sent away. We all know how that turned out and what would have happened had that trio not taken matters into their own hands.” Albus explained.

Right. That incident. They were all still mad at Minerva for that one.

“And then in his second year, they went to seek help from a teacher after discovering the location of the chamber and the identity of Salazar’s weapon, an identity we already suspected.” Albus went on.

How that utter psychopath had been allowed into Hogwarts was beyond him.

“And I don’t think I need to remind you of your own conduct last year.”

No. No he did not.

“Needless to say, few of our staff have inspired confidence in the young man. Either in our ability or willingness to help him.” Albus concluded.

“Indeed. And so it may be wise to continue helping him without being asked. Call on Remus and Snuffles for me.” Severus requested.

***

Harry sat across from the Goblin lawyer.

“With that out of the way, you now have access to all of your family holdings. It is not exactly a fortune.” Said Schmicklehook. “In Muggle denominations, it is roughly seventy five thousand pounds. Enough to live off of for a good long while, or at least purchase a home.”

An average home at that. Not that Harry was complaining. Sure, it would have been nice to have enough money on hand to purchase a private army to fight Voldemort and these Death Cultists, but buying a house was cool too.

“I understand it is your intention to emancipate?” Schmicklehook prodded. “well, the good news is you now have proof of financial independence. And your participation in this forsaken tournament amounts to an admission of your abilities with magic being that of an adult. The only problem is your education.”

“My grades aren’t that bad, are they?” Harry asked.

“No. They are excellent, particularly charms and defense against the dark arts. But your grades are not the issue. In order to emancipate yourself you must sit your owls. As such you have not demonstrated an ability to function as an adult wizard magically.” Schmicklehook explained.

He grumbled something about slaying dragons and killing Death Eaters not being legally recognized proofs of ability.

“Oh. Can I just pay to sit them early?” He asked.

“But of course.” Said the goblin.

“And how many do I have to pass?” He asked.

“Technically? Only one. But the more you pass the better.” He explained.

“Well okay then. I’ll sit one owl exam and secure my emancipation.” Harry decided.

“I see. You sound rather confident that you can pass one. I may be able to secure you a licensed examiner as early as tomorrow morning, and if not then Sunday morning. Which exam do you wish to take?” He asked.

***

“For your final question, what exactly is the function of a rubber duck.” The examiner, a Mister Burbage, asked.

“A rubber duck is a bathtub toy used by children and infants. It can soak up water like a turkey baster and then spray it out. It can also make a squeaking noise when squeezed.” Harry explained.

The tiny office devoted to this Muggle Studies tester was hidden in the absolute bowels of the Ministry of Magic building. Harry was positive he glimpsed the boiler room a floor above as he descended down here. He was willing to bet plenty of ministry workers would have killed for this kind of isolation and privacy against the usual chaos, business and forced socialization of their jobs.

“Well then, mister Potter. I will have to send this off to another examiner to grade to prevent me from being biased. But I think I can safely say congratulations on earning your first owl.” He said.

He then stood up and offered his hand, which Harry shook.

“I’m sure your two bodyguards can safely escort you back up to the Atrium and from there back to Hogwarts.” Mr Burbage advised. “By the way, my wife never mentioned the famous Harry Potter taking her class.”

“That’s because I don’t. I viewed it as something of a lazy class from somebody raised by Muggles to take.” Harry explained.

“But not too lazy to take the owl for?” Mr Burbage asked with a judgmental eyebrow.

“No sir, I think it’s exactly lazy enough for my owl.” Harry said cheekily. “Also, could you direct me to whatever office I have to go to in order to file for my own emancipation?”

The man’s mouth turned to an ‘o’ before he smiled knowingly.

“Right down the hall to your left. They receive fewer visitors than I do.” He said almost proudly.

If Harry ever had the chance at a normal life, he would specifically request that job.

He exited the testing room to find Moody and Shacklebolt waiting for him.

“Off to the emancipation office.” Said Harry. “By the time my test is graded they might finally be finished filing my emancipation request.”

“You overestimate the speed by which the ministry functions.” Said Moody.

Kingsley agreed with a nod.

They proceeded down the hall to an office door labeled “Emancipation of Minors.” Harry knocked.

“Whoa! Busy day! Come in.” A voice inside called out.

Harry shared a glance with his bodyguards. A lot of people were emancipating today? That didn’t make sense.

He opened the door to find a positively ancient and diminutive man sitting at a desk. Said desk was barren save for a single stack of documents. The man blinked in confusion at his guests.

“Here I was thinking I had two whole applicants in one day. I’m still surprised to see you mister Potter. Did you have something to add?” The man asked.

“Add?” Harry asked.

“Yes. Add.” he said, picking up a filled out application form and accompanying documents. “To the application for your emancipation.”

***

The doorbell rang.

Petunia answered the door to find the last person she ever expected to meet again

“Snake?!” Petunia asked in a squeaked.

“Good to see you too, Tuni.” The greasy-haired man who had stolen her sister so many years ago said by way of greeting. “I think you know there’s supposed to be a ‘P’ in there. Now are you going to invite us in?”

Us?

She glanced behind Severus to see a big, black, shaggy dog led on a leash by somebody else she never wanted to see again. She barely recognized him, but it was definitely one of James’ friend. The werewolf, not the rat.

“Harry better be dead or dying for the three of you to come here uninvited.” She said, giving Sirius Black a pointed glare.

He tilted his head sideways in confusion as if surprised she recognized him in his dog form. These guys were still as big a bunch of morons as ever, huh? Did they not know that sisters told each-other things? Even sisters who hate each-other.

“It’s the latter, as usual.” Severus told her.

Ah. she could expect some interesting reading when Hogwash sent her this years report card and accompanying medical documents from Madame Pumpey healing the boy’s injuries. She couldn’t wait to see how they one-upped a basilisk bite and repeated dementor exposure this year.

“By all means. Come in. And Siri, knock it off with the dog routine.” Petunia invited them in.

They entered her abode and, after Severus flicked his wand to close all of the curtains, Sirius returned to his human form. He looked both great and terrible at the same time. Far too pale and thin, but with an edge to his look to compliment the clothes worthy of royalty. Prison had done him some favors, a marked improvement from the pretty boy he used to be.

She motioned them into the living room to take a seat while she marched to the kitchen and started a pot of tea.

“The rat isn’t joining us?” She called out to the other room.

The silence which answered her question was a strange one. She didn’t know why but said silence ‘sounded’ like they were sitting their slack-jawed at her question. For the life of her she couldn’t imagine why it would have that effect on them.

“By rat, do you mean…” She heard the werewolf try and ask.

She rolled her eyes.

“Peter. The guy you nicknamed Wormtail. You know, short chubby guy? Always looked like he was scheming and judging people? That rat.” Petunia clarified in exhaustive detail.

There was another long silence, before Severus broke it.

“No. He will not be joining us.” He said.

Pity. She was worried that current company wouldn’t be skeevy enough to make her skin crawl. He would have been the cherry on top of the skin-crawling posse in her living room.

The pot soon whistled to announce it was done and she poured four cups for all of them. Placing them on a tray she brought out the cuppa for her and her guests, placing them on the living room table. She took her seat at her favored hard-backed chair and took up her cuppa.

“So, what do you need from me to save the boy’s life?” She asked, getting straight to the point. “You wouldn’t come here unless I was the only person capable of the job.”

She didn’t know if she liked being the last resort or not. On one hand, it was more peaceful than having wizards come into her house whenever Harry got in trouble. Which would be a daily occurrence. On the other hand, she felt out of the loop. As interesting as the local gossip around the going ons of Little Whinging were, she imagined the craziness of the wizarding world would make better talking points. She should start hanging out with Arabella now that she didn’t do the babysitting for Harry. Her being the only witch in the neighborhood was the only reason they left Harry with her, now that she had the free time she might as well keep Petunia entertained.

“You are correct, of course.” Said the werewolf. “All we need from you is to sign Harry’s emancipation form.”

She choked on her drinks.

“I beg your pardon? He’s fourteen!” Petunia reminded them.

They shared glances.

“I figured you’d be ecstatic to be free of him.” Said Severus.

“Oh, you figured correct. That doesn’t mean I’m willing to sign a form affirming he’s an adult in order to achieve that freedom.” She said.

They shared a series of looks. It must now be clear to them that they better provide her with a dammed good reason to emancipate her nephew.

They proceeded to provide her with fifty. She never even guessed at how bad things really were.