Dudley Dursley and the Knights of Walpurgis

Monday, August 13, 2018

Irene walked into Draco's office, her shoulders hunched. "What's wrong, Irene?" Draco asked.

"Mr. Potter is here to see you," she said. "He didn't say it was official."

Draco took a deep breath; he'd been expecting this. "Please show him in," he said, "and offer him refreshments."

Irene stood a little straighter and nodded, her professional demeanour back in place. "Of course, Mr. Malfoy," she said, "right away.

Potter walked in a moment later. "Malfoy," he said, holding his hand out for Draco to shake. "I expect you know why I'm here.

Draco nodded. "Of course. You do know he has every legal right to do so."

"Yes, however, the DMLE has both the right and the responsibility to ensure that this is not a prelude to the Death Eaters rising again. Can he assure us of that?" Potter's body language was doubtful at best.

"It's very hard to prove a negative," Draco said. "Did you read the announcement?"

Frowning, Potter said, "Yes."

"Well, then," Draco said, shrugging. When Potter didn't appear to understand, he said, "It's open to all wizards within the United Kingdom. That includes you and, for that matter, the entire Auror Department."

"Are you denying he's up to something?" Potter asked.

Before Draco could answer, Irene came in with a fresh cup of tea for him, another for Potter, and a plate of biscuits. When she'd left, he said, "No, I know he is. His stated purpose is to reform an old organization dedicated to family and community."

"That became the Death Eaters," Potter said.

"Not exactly," Draco said. Before Potter could interrupt, he said, "The Knights of Walpurgis were dissolved, by those who became the Death Eaters, so that it would be harder to fight the Dark Lord."

Potter didn't look convinced. Draco didn't blame him; the relationship between the two organizations was why the Knights weren't reformed after Voldemort's defeat. "You said 'his stated purpose,'" Potter said.

"He claims that's all he's interested in," Draco said. "I don't think he's trying to reform the Death Eaters, no Dark Lord to begin with, but I do think he's interested in regaining some of the power he's lost."

"Then why now?" Potter asked. To Draco's relief, his body language had relaxed.

"Because there's a cause he can claim is the motive," Draco said. "Potter, I won't pretend that my father's motives are pure, largely because I doubt they are, but the best way to handle the problem is for you and others you trust to get involved. That way, you're right in the middle of things. That's what I'm doing, because I won't let him hurt my family or our position in our community." He scowled. "I've worked too damn hard to let him destroy it."

Potter's smile was wry. "That, I can believe. So, if I round up Ron, Teddy, George, Arthur--"

"Kingsley Shacklebolt," Draco added.

"Mm, I think I'll wait to see how things go," Potter said, with more cunning than Draco'd realized he had. "At any rate, you think he won't give us trouble."

"That's exactly what I think." Draco took a large sip of his tea and started choking.

"Malfoy?" Potter started to stand.

Draco waved him to sit back down. "It's nothing. My secretary apparently thinks I need calming. It's chamomile."

Potter made a face and stood. "Thanks for your time. I have some owls to send, including one to your father. Good day, Malfoy."

Draco stood, ushered him out and went to get a better cup of tea.

Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Sophie let Dudley make himself comfortable in his favourite chair before she brought the day's post.

Dudley eyed the two letters she was holding suspiciously. "What's gone wrong now?"

"Nothing's wrong," Sophie said. "This," she held up the larger of the two envelopes, "is an invitation for all of us to attend a professional Quidditch match, hosted by the Malfoys, to introduce us as the family of a witch to the Wizarding world." She glared at it. "Tom was reading over my shoulder and he and Rich have already written James about what they can expect to see. If we're not accepting, you'd better be prepared for a fight."

Dudley shrugged. "To be honest, I'm glad they could arrange it," he said. "It sounds like a great game, a lot of fun. So, what's the second one about?"

Sophie shook her head. "I'm really just not sure. It's from Ginny Potter and . . . Here, just read it."

Dudley took the letter and read,

Dear Sophie,

There are some things happening here. I hope they won't affect you, but I thought I'd give you a warning, just in case.

There's a child, a Muggleborn child, who was being mistreated at home. Since no charges are being filed, I don't think they can call it abuse, but it could be argued either way.

The issue is being addressed, and the mistreatment seems to have stopped. Unfortunately, it's brought to mind some of the things that happened to Harry as a child. All of the Muggleborn children are being watched closely this year, and Daphne will be watched even more carefully.

Harry has said to anyone who asks that he's sure Daphne's well cared for; in fact, he's said that Dudley's opinions and attitudes had clearly been changing before Harry left the Dursleys. Some people, though, love to cause trouble.

Just keep it in mind and be careful.

Ginny

Dudley sighed. "I suppose it could be worse," he said.

"Should we not go Saturday?" Sophie asked.

Dudley shook his head. "Worst thing we could do." He thought for a moment. "We take all three kids, make sure to stuff them silly and have a good time. I think that's our best defence." After another moment, he said, "We make sure all their clothes fit and are in good shape."

"I'll need to go shopping," Sophie said with a sigh. "Rich is growing faster than I can get new clothes for him." She smiled, although Dudley could see it was an effort, and stood straighter. "We'll have a great time on Saturday."

Dudley smiled at her. She really was marvellous. "However shall I thank you?" he asked, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her closer.

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Later."

Wednesday, August 15, 2018

Dear Rose,

Are you going to the Quidditch match Saturday? Do you enjoy Quidditch? I'm not very sporty; is that going to be a problem? Should I bring a book for the boring bits?

Daphne

Dear Daphne,

I don't know if we'll be there. Daddy's trying to convince Mr. Malfoy that he needs to be there to explain Quidditch to the Muggles and Muggleborns. He was Keeper on the Gryffindor team when he was in school. They even had a song Weasley Is Our King!

Quidditch is great! There are no boring bits. Well, most of the time. Every once in a while, the Snitch disappears and it takes forever for the Seekers to find it, but usually you sit there on the edge of your seat screaming yourself hoarse. Even Mum cheers for Quidditch and she's not sporty at all.

Who are you rooting for? I'm rooting for the Harpies because Aunt Ginny played for them.

Dear Rose,

I'd forgotten Aunt Ginny played Quidditch! Are the Harpies one of the teams playing on Saturday? Are they a good team? (I mean besides being smart enough to let Aunt Ginny play for them.)

Daphne

Thursday, August 16, 2018

Looking up, Judith snapped, "Watch where you're walking, Matt! Get your nose out of that book." She tried to see the front. "Which one do you have?"

"Quidditch Through the Ages," he said. "It's a classic; that's what Mr. Malfoy said."

Judith was getting very tired of the phrase, "Mr. Malfoy said".

Matt looked up with a worried expression. "We are going Saturday, aren't we?"

From his expression, Judith knew that if she said they weren't, he'd start pleading. "Yes," she said, grateful that decision had already been made. "Violet and her son, Ned, are going with us, so you be on your best behaviour. And don't go pestering me for stuff when we're there; things are always so expensive at games. I'll pack us sandwiches and I'll let you get a treat, but that's it."

Matt's eyes were as huge as his smile. "Cool. We're rooting for the Falcons."

"OK, why?" Judith asked, hoping she'd understand the answer. She hated that more and more of Matt's answers didn't make sense without lots of explanation.

"'Cause the Harpies are all girls," he said. "Who wants to watch girls?"

"Sounds good," Judith answered, thinking that that answer was going to change way too fast for her taste.

Friday, August 17, 2018

Scorpius knocked on the door to his father's study. "Come in," his father said. When Scorpius was standing in front of Father's desk, posture straight and head high as was proper, he nodded and asked, "What can I do for you?"

"For the Quidditch match tomorrow..." He trailed off. "I am going tomorrow, aren't I?"

His father's face was stern. "Yes, you'll be coming. I expect you to answer all the questions you're asked tomorrow, even the silly ones, and I expect you to be a good example to the other children." Then he smiled. "What was your original question?"

Trying not to sigh in relief, Scorpius asked, "Must I root for the Falcons?"

Scowling, his father asked, "Why wouldn't you?"

Scorpius looked down at his feet for a moment before remembering that a Malfoy always held his head high. "Asp and Rose will be there, too."

"Yes," his father answered. "I hope they'll help with the questions; their parents have promised to do so." He smirked. "Even Rose's mother, who isn't much of a fan."

"She likes it all right," Scorpius said, "Rose says. She just doesn't like flying much." He thought for a moment about everything Rose had told him about her mum. "At all. Anyway, Asp's mother will be there and, well..." Don't stammer around; get to the point, he reminded himself. A Malfoy is always confident, even if they're proven wrong. "None of our family has ever played professional Quidditch, but Asp's mother has and it seems disloyal to root against her team."

His father leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. He wasn't angry, to Scorpius's relief. "You're right, of course, that none of our family has played professional Quidditch. We do invest in the teams," Scorpius commanded his spine to stay straight, "but those decisions are made for purely business reasons. We frequently invest in teams we don't support." His father pursed his lips for another minute. Finally, looking Scorpius straight in the eye, he said, "Your loyalty is yours to give; you're too old for me to command it of you. Asp is a fine young man of a good family, as Rose is a fine young woman of an equally good family. You may root for whom you please." Then he grinned. "But the Falcons are going to win!"

"As you say, sir," Scorpius tried to put a smug expression on his face as he turned to go.

"Just a minute," his father said, rummaging in one of the desk drawers. He pulled out a money pouch and handed it to Scorpius. "If you're going to be mature enough to think through the social implications of the team you're rooting for, you're mature enough to handle your spending money for the match yourself. There's a little extra in there if you want to treat your friends as well." His father then gave Scorpius a smile of approval that made him feel warm inside. "You make me proud, son; never doubt it."

Just as Scorpius left the room, he turned and said, "But you're wrong, sir. The Harpies will win."

He closed the door on his father's laughter.

Saturday, August 18, 2018

The Quidditch pitch was covered in Muggle-repelling charms; Mr. Malfoy had provided all of the Muggle families with charms to prevent problems and Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny were there if any cropped up anyway. Daphne sat next to Rose and Lily. "Don't forget; you promised to explain everything to me."

Both girls kept their promise, but most of the explanations slipped right out of Daphne's head. She cheered for the Harpies, booed the Falcons, and spent most of her time watching the fascinating Wizarding world at play.

Uncle Ron was passing a pair of binoculars around that he called 'Omnioculars'. "These are so cool," Rich said. "It's like having instant replay without the telly."

The instant replay was pretty cool--it made it easier to follow what was happening--but even better was how easy it was to look at everything else. Since no Muggles could get in without help, no one was worrying about how visible magic was. Spells filled the air with adverts, messages and cheers and Omnioculars were the most normal magical device she could see.

Mum and Aunt Hermione went down for food and came back with another woman. She was clearly a witch, but she reminded Daphne of the nastiest of her primary school teachers. "I've been paired with the Mitchells, such delightful people, but I thought I'd make sure that there weren't any other families that might need assistance. It's so easy for things to slip through the cracks."

"We have no complaints here," Mum said, her voice sounding strained. "Of course, with Dudley having family in the Wizarding world, it's been a little easier on us than on most of the Muggleborns' families. Daphne," Mum's smile was strained as well, "come and meet Mrs. Norman. She's working with the Malfoys to help get families adjusted." Mum's expression made it clear that Daphne had better be on her best behaviour.

"Hello, Mrs. Norman," she said, holding out her hand for a shake. "It's nice to meet you. I hope it hasn't been too much trouble."

"Not at all," Mrs. Norman said, shaking Daphne's hand. "You must be so proud of her," she said to Mum, "such beautiful manners."

"Very proud," Daddy agreed with a big smile. "She's top of her class, too. She'll take Hogwarts by storm, won't you, sweetheart?"

"You bet," Daphne said. The grown-ups all looked worried for no good reason. "Do you have any kids at Hogwarts?" she asked. "Maybe I'll meet them."

"Maybe," Mrs. Norman agreed. "Ned, my youngest, is a seventh year. Ravenclaw, of course. You'll be a Gryffindor, I expect."

"Ravenclaw," Daphne said, her chin high, "is what I'm expecting."

"Daphne's very interested in what makes magic work," Aunt Hermione said. "She's hoping to do some experiments once she gets to Hogwarts."

"Well, fancy that," Mrs. Norman said, blinking. "I always thought magic just worked. Why would you need to know how?"

"Oh, that's the interesting part," Daphne said, and happily went on to explain all the wonders that could be done once the hows and whys were understood.

After a little bit, Mrs. Norman excused herself. "I need to be getting back to Judith and Matthew," she said. "I just wanted to be certain you're all right, dear." Her smile was a little vacant as she left.

Daphne turned to her mum. "I didn't do anything wrong, did I?" Driving a grown-up like that away would get her into trouble, but she'd been trying to be nice.

"Not even a little," Daddy said, and asked Uncle Ron where he could buy a pair of Omnioculars for Daphne. "But you're not to be taking them apart!" he told her sternly.

Sunday, August 19, 2018

Matt woke up slowly, but when his brain had really started working, he ran downstairs. The game yesterday had run long; it had been after nine when the Harpies' Seeker had finally caught the Snitch, ending the game 660 to 390 in the Harpies' favour. Matt still had a hard time believing that girls could play that well.

Although watching breakfast being cooked was totally wicked, Matt groaned to himself when he walked into the kitchen. Both Mum and Mrs. Norman were dressed in their "going-to-church" clothes. He'd hoped that by getting more involved in the Wizarding world he'd get out of going to church, but it didn't look like that was the case.

"I'm glad to see you up and about," Mum said, smiling at him. "Run and put your good clothes on; we're going to church."

"Yes, ma'am," Matt said, trying not to sigh. Breakfast smelled so good.

"Where are you going?" Ned asked as he walked into the kitchen. "Aren't you hungry? I'm starving!"

"I'm getting dressed for church," Matt said.

"We've got loads of time," Ned said, grinning as he grabbed Matt and dragged him to the table. "Plus there's no way you can listen to the minister on an empty stomach. You need to fortify yourself."

"Ned!" Mrs. Norman snapped. Matt noticed Mum was trying to suppress a smile, so he thought it was all right to let Ned plop him down in a chair and take a plate piled with food. Somehow, Ned's plate had even more. "Edward Norman, that's too much food for your plate."

Ned shrugged and jammed two sausages and a large spoonful of eggs between two slices of toast and began eating, ignoring his mother when she began to scold him for his manners. Matt concentrated on using his best table manners so Mum wouldn't scold him. Instead, to his delight, she beamed at him.

"It's not the regular minister today anyway," Mrs. Norman finally said. "He's on holiday. I don't know who it'll be."

Ned shrugged, seeming uninterested, while Mum asked a thousand questions about the Normans' church. Matt let it all wash through him. Mum was happy and she seemed happy with Matt as well. Maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be good.