The War for Souls

Chapter 12--The Council of State

The thing that amazed Harry the most was how quickly it all happened. The moment one vote was finished, another was called. He barely had time to sit down after voting to remove Fudge before Dumbledore announced the removal of the Minister by a wide margin, opening the nominations for his successor. Mr. Weasley instantly nominated Madam Bones, and Giles Macmillan seconded. Baddock and Moore nominated a creature of theirs named Stephen Higgs, but the margin was even greater than the no confidence vote.

As soon as the final aye was cast, Dumbledore asked the new Minister for a few words. Harry noted the sternness and resolve in her voice as she began. "It was well over a year ago that Lord Voldemort was reborn." She paused for the gasp at Voldemort's name, then continued. "In that time, we have made little or no progress in defeating him and bringing his followers to justice. In many cases, the operations of law enforcement have been hindered by the Ministry itself. During the last war, spies within these very halls passed information to our enemies almost unabated. I do not believe this has ceased, and I do not intend to turn a blind eye to it, for any price."

"As you know, I have had the honor, for the last six years, of serving as Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Prior to that, I spent over a decade as Chief Auror, and have nearly thirty years experience in law enforcement. I tell you now; negotiation and diplomacy are empty, worthless weapons against Voldemort. War is here, and I will accept the challenge to fight it." The hall rocked with applause, and Harry saw that most of their opponents had quietly left.

"Over the next several days, I will be issuing a series of decrees intended to curb the potential for Death Eater activity, particularly attacks aimed at students." She looked at Harry and Susan as she said this. "Changes in personnel are necessary. Those who have been effective in peace are not always effective in war. And those who permit evil to survive to ensure their own positions never deserve to keep them." She paused, and cast about the room, her eyes alighting on a bearded man with sad, hollow eyes and an egg-shaped face.

"Fourteen months ago, just before Voldemort regained his body, he ordered the murder of a brave, talented, promising young man. He was murdered not because he was fighting against Voldemort, but because he had honorably shared a prize with a worthy competitor." Harry felt tears well up in his eyes, and fought them down. There would be time to cry later. "For a year now, that young man's father has tirelessly fought the paralyzing inertia that has crippled this Ministry. I can think of no better memorial for his son's sacrifice, and his own courage, than to nominate Amos Diggory as Senior Undersecretary."

Harry listened with only mild interest as she rattled off many more appointees. He took notice briefly when she mentioned an Undersecretary for Wales, and momentarily feared she would light on him, knowing his status. She did not, however, choosing an elderly witch named Margaret Bowen. As she seemed to be winding down, she mentioned a replacement for herself as Head of Magical Law Enforcement. "Perhaps no individual, other than me, will be more involved in the war effort. Therefore, I can only choose a man who was more instrumental than nearly any other in the successful prosecution of the last war and its aftermath. As Head of Magical Law Enforcement, I nominate Alastor Moody."

"The last person I will name is for the post of Chief Auror. Mr. Dawlish informed me last week that he would not continue in his position if Minister Fudge were removed. I regret this decision of his, but it has been made. The Deputy Chief, Mr. Shacklebolt, is a man I deeply respect, and his day will come. For now, however, I hope he will forgive me for leaving him as the Deputy Chief. For now, it is time to right many years of wrong."

"By all rights, this nominee should be giving this speech. He served with distinction for nearly twenty years in the Auror Corps, six of them as Deputy Chief. He has earned this job many times over, and would have had it six years ago had some in the Ministry not used their undue influence to sway the Minister against him. His principles have brought him into conflict with some in the Ministry, but his courage and commitment are examples to us all. I would like to ask to serve as the new Chief Auror, Arthur Weasley."

Harry's shock was lost in the uproar of applause. He had no idea Mr. Weasley had been an Auror. He knew he was well liked, but he had no idea his support was this broad. Maybe Ron was right, and Mr. Weasley had only been held back under Fudge because of his love of Muggles.

There was a celebration at the Leaky Cauldron that night. Madam Bones had hired the back banquet room, and Susan insisted that all six of her new housemates make an appearance. He actually enjoyed himself, making small talk, until the Minister cornered he and Susan. "You and you, come with me."

"Auntie--"

"No, listen. I know about both of you. Albus told me about Harry, and I've had an inkling about our line for years. I can't prove anything, mind you, but I think if you dig hard enough, what you need is there."

"Thanks," said Harry.

"There's something else: a bit of lore that went down in our family, although I never was a victim myself. You know the enchantments that keep the lines going forever?"

"I do now," said Susan.

"They're powerful," said Madam Bones. "They'll be stronger on Harry, because he doesn't have any heir, and you do. But watch out."

"Watch out for what?" asked Harry.

"The magic that will force you to have an heir." The Minister nodded her head to them, and turned away. "Oh, Mr. Potter," she said, turning back quickly, "Tomorrow, I will arrange for the transfer of those individuals to your custody."

*****

Harry was really, really not looking forward to passing judgment on his prisoners. Hermione had sprung this on him without even asking--although it was partly Sirius' fault, too--and now he had to fulfill the obligations. Truth be told, he had no idea what he was to charge them with, what the standards for guilt or innocence were, or even how a trial really functioned. He had seen three trials--well, two trials and a hearing--in his life, and none of them really gave him a clue as to what to expect. At the trials in Dumbledore's pensieve, and at his own hearing, the court had voted on convicting the defendant--but he didn't have a court to vote, did he? The only other trial he had seen was in a Muggle movie he had watched while the Dursleys were out years ago. He didn't really think, based on the magical trials he'd seen, that that would work.

His friends weren't much help either. Ron and Ginny knew less than he did, never having been to one at all. Hermione's only experience was with Muggle trials as well, but she did begin digging through the library looking for information. Luna offered many rather vague suggestions, from divining a verdict to assembling an entire town to vote on guilt or innocence, but they ranged from the impractical to the downright absurd. Neville was the worst of all. His only comment on trials was, "Gran went to one of those once."

He held out a slight glimmer of hope when he asked Susan. After all, her Aunt had been Head of Magical Law Enforcement for six years. She had presided over his own trial. She had to know something. "Oh, Harry," was her first reaction. "You can't possibly have only seen those old trials from the first war."

"No," he bit back rather sharply, "I had my own, you know."

"Yes, I know," she said softly. "I told Aunt Amelia to believe you, but Fudge went over her head. No, you need to know the procedures are different now than they used to be. And that mockery Fudge called a hearing wasn't a good example." She went on to explain the different functionaries needed for a trial. "An interrogator questions the witnesses, Harry. Councillors represent the defendant. There really isn't a prosecutor like in Muggle trials. The defendant--we usually call him the accused--can call witnesses to support him. The interrogator asks all the questions, the Councillor is only there to make sure the finer points of the law are understood. The magistrate is the person presiding over the trial. He makes all the decisions except the verdict. There's a jury of nine selected by the magistrate to render the verdict."

"Who do I select? I assume I'm the magistrate here, right?"

"Yeah, you're the magistrate. Usually that's either the Minister, or the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, but I suppose an Ambrosius will do, too." They shared a chuckle, and Susan went on. "For the jury, there are three requirements. The jurors can't be relatives of the accused or the victim, the victim himself can't be a juror, and they have to have passed their O.W.L.s."

"Not seventeen?"

"No, jury code is older than that. It goes back to when most people left school after their O.W.L.s."

"Oh. Well, then, to start with, would you be on the jury?"

"I will for everyone on this list but one. I'm not eligible to pass judgment on Dolohov."

"Why?"

"He's the one who killed my parents."

"Oh, Susan, I'm sorry, I had no idea..."

"You have a better idea than anyone else. And besides, at least my Aunt wasn't a Dursley. I haven't had it that rough, until all the questions started pouring in last term."

"Yeah, that wasn't much fun."

"You know what you should do?"

"No, what?"

"Call a meeting of your Council--Aunt Amelia told me you named one--and get their advice before the trial. Whenever she'd preside over a trial, she'd always talk to people she trusted first."

"Good idea. Now how do I do that? Hedwig and Pig are at--well, they were at The Burrow. I don't know where they are now."

"Let me talk to Hermione," she said. "I have an idea."

*****

Arthur saw the messages flutter down the chimney, and glide through the air over towards several people. One came in his direction, and settled on his eggs. "What have we here?" he asked, mostly to himself. It was a parchment envelope, not unlike the kind Hogwarts letters were mailed in, addressed in a hand he recognized as Hermione's.

Arthur Weasley

The Great Hall

Morag Castle, Argyllshire

Arthur looked at it puzzled for a moment, and turned it over. Instead of the Hogwarts seal, or the usual blank circle of wax used by most people these days, it was sealed with an intricate coat of arms. A Welsh Green dragon curled around a quartered shield, with a design in each of the quarters. A gryffin and a round tower were in the top two, and the bottom contained nine ships and a giant stag. Superimposed on the shield was a blank circle. A ribbon ran across the bottom of the seal, bearing a motto: Anrhydedda 'n Flaen. Arthur recognized Welsh, but had no idea what it meant. He cracked open the seal, and unfolded the letter. There was a seal at the top, a stag, dog, and a wolf running through a field of lilies. In the band around the insignia were a set of initials, and the motto from the front. H.a.I.P, B.c.C., it read.

Harry, son of James Potter, Ambrosius of Wales, requires your presence at a meeting of the Council of State on tenth August, at midday. The meeting will take place at the cottage of the Ambrosius known as "Padfoot's." This meeting is secret, and may not be revealed.

For the Ambrosius,

Hermione Jane Granger

Arthur looked around the room to see who else had gotten the message. Moody was holding one in his hand, Remus was opening his. Tonks' was just floating into her outstretched hand, and it looked as though Bill was getting one as well. Oh, well, he thought, just as well not to talk about it.

*****

"That's all of them," said Hermione, as the last note left her hands and flew out over the Irish Sea.

"Excellent," said Luna. "I hope we can solve this tomorrow."

"Well, we already know you two are out as jurors," said Hermione, indicating Luna and Ginny. "You haven't sat your O.W.L.s. And Susan and I can't serve for Dolohov, because we're victims."

"Moody, Dumbledore, people like that," said Luna. "We shouldn't worry too much about it." She stared very hard at the wall of the cottage. "They're playing chess," she said. "Ginevra, let's take a walk. I'd like to show you something."

"Oh...uh, okay." Luna began to skip down the path toward the beach. "What is it?"

"You haven't had much of a break, have you?"

"What do you mean? None of us have."

"No, I mean Harry. It's difficult."

"Yeah, I guess. I shouldn't have overreacted yesterday when he did that. I should've known he was nervous about Baddock finding out."

"He loves you, Ginny. I don't know whether or not he's in love with you, but he does love you."

"I know. And I should be happy with what he can give. Merlin, I mean, he's got some stuff to deal with."

"Are you jealous of Susan?"

"What? No, she's not interested in him."

"Hermione thinks she's interested in Ronald."

"That's absurd." They had reached the beach, and Luna sank down on a large rock stuck into the sand.

"I didn't say I thought so. But she does."

"Why would she think that?"

"But the important thing is that you two spend some time together. Get away from the pressure and be yourselves."

"What? Wait, I thought we were talking about Hermione being jealous of Susan."

"She is. She's very insecure, Hermione. Doesn't know how to go out and get what she wants."

"But who needs to spend time together?"

"You and Harry. I'll send him down." She stood up, and skipped back the path to the safe house, humming Weasley is Our King.

A few minutes later, Harry came down to the beach. "What's up Gin? Luna said you wanted to see me?"

"Well, sort of," she said. "She was being very Luna, and I was awfully confused, and she just said, 'I'll send him down,' so I don't know if I wanted to see you or not." He got a sad and confused look on his face. "No, I always want to see you, I just don't remember if I asked Luna to send you down or not."

"Oh, well, okay."

She let him pull her up, and put her arms around his middle. "I'm sorry I reacted that way at the Ministry yesterday."

"I understand why you did. I'm sorry I couldn't explain it more." He took her hand, and led her into the soft sand on the seaward side of the rock, and sat with his back against it. Taking a cue, she curled under his arm, and laid her head on his chest.

For a few minutes, they just sat there, taking in the steel-gray beauty of the sea, the cries of the gulls, and the comfort of each other's arms. Finally, Ginny spoke. "Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you think about Susan?"

"Susan? She's awesome. She's been a big help, and a good friend, why?"

"You don't...well, you don't...um..."

"No, Ginny, I don't. I told you all the girls I've ever fancied, and Susan was never on that list."

"I know. But she's so pretty, and she's smart, and tough, and ..." Ginny was cut off by Harry's lips meeting hers. She sputtered for a moment before kissing him back, hard and deep.

"Oh my God," she said as she pulled away.

"Does that answer your question?" he said, a mischievous grin in his eye.

"I think so," she said. She got a similar look on her face. "But I'm still not sure."

Ginny wasn't sure exactly how long they'd stayed down at the beach. Between the soft touches that sent shivers down her spine, and the tender, insistent kisses, her whole sense of time and space was totally distorted. She only finally looked up when she saw the sun sinking into the Irish Sea. Harry had the same thought at the same time. "We'd better head back up," he said.

"Yeah," she said, reluctance in her voice. "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Um...d'you love me?" She said it hurriedly, but she could tell he caught the words.

"Yes," he said, without hesitation.

"You do?" she said incredulously.

"Do you think I would have spent the last, oh, three hours snogging on the beach with someone I didn't love?"

"No, I don't guess so."

"I love you, Ginny. Honestly."

"I know you do. And I love you, too."

*****

Harry couldn't sleep. The enormity of the responsibility on his shoulders weighed down on him until he felt crushed. He was sitting up on the couch in the sitting room when he heard soft footsteps behind him. "I know. I can't sleep," he said. "I've got too much to think about."

Harry didn't know why he expected to hear Hermione's voice. But he did, and it came as a surprise to hear Ginny's response as she laid her hand on his shoulder. "Tell me about it," she said gently.

She walked around to sit next to him as he spoke, and motioned for him to lean against her. "Can I do this, Gin?"

"Do what? The trial?"

"Exactly," he said. "I just don't feel like I should be passing judgment on these people. I mean, who am I? I'm a sixth-year student at Hogwarts. Why me?"

"Because it's your job. You were born to do this."

"You know what Dumbledore told me after I pulled you out of the Chamber? He said it isn't our qualities, but our choices that our important."

"Which simply proves my point," she said. "If anyone ever rose above where you came from, it's you."

"But how can I go up there and judge them? I don't want to kill them, but I can't think of anything else to do."

"I don't think you should kill them. First of all, the jury has to decide guilt, but even if they do--and I have no doubt that any of these people are guilty--you can do a lot of things besides kill them. You can--"

"Anything I do, Voldemort can counter. If I put them in prison, I'm simply giving him a target. I can't bring myself to have them Kissed, and even if I could, I don't imagine I could find a dementor to do the job right now--"

"Look, we've got the council tomorrow. Maybe Dad or Moody will have an idea. They were both part of the big trials years ago."

"Yeah, maybe. I'm tired of it, Gin."

"Tired of what?" she asked, shifting slightly as he looked at her.

"War. Fighting. But I've finally found something worth fighting for." He looked pointedly at her as he said it. "And I just want to win and be done with it. But I know I can't. So I keep fighting, killing time, strategizing...but it doesn't mean I like it."

"Which makes you the opposite of Tom. He likes it. He enjoys fighting; he wants that even more than he wants the power. You just want it to end--but you want it to end right."

"For you," he said. "For you, and for Ron and Hermione, and Neville and Luna, and Susan, and everyone. We all deserve to live without fear."

"Yes," she said, her eyes shining. "Did I mention how much I love you?"

"In many different ways," he said.

Ginny laughed. "Do you have any idea how corny we just sounded?"

"That bad, huh?"

"That bad. But I love you anyway." The small talk continued. They shared their plans for life after Hogwarts, little stories from their childhood, jokes about their friends and classmates. Slowly, both of them grew tired, and without moving much, drifted off to sleep.

*****

"Harry?" Harry heard a voice calling his name into a very pleasant dream. "Harry! Ginny! What on earth are you doing?"

It didn't take long for the very pleasant dream to end, and a very uncomfortable reality to set it. Harry had fallen asleep on the couch in the sitting room, cuddled with Ginny, and her father had walked in to find them that way when he arrived for the Council.

"Um..."

"I take it," said Mr. Weasley, still rather red in the face, "that you two are...an item?"

"You could say that," said Ginny, wiping the sleep from her eyes. "Would you say that, love?"

"Um..."

"He's not very good with these awkward situations."

"Something tells me," said her father, "that I don't really want to ask about that."

"There's a reason Hermione put a gender-specific sign on the bedroom door."

"There's only one bedroom?" asked Mr. Weasley incredulously.

"Well, there are two, technically, but none of us really felt like sharing a room with Remus."

"Breakfast?" croaked Harry. "I think I'll make breakfast."

"Nonsense," said Mr. Weasley. "Here, let me sit and we can chat. I'm sure Molly will make something up when she arrives."

"Or Hermione can," said Ginny. Her father looked puzzled. "She's been cooking since we got here. We're doing quite well, you know."

"I think I won't ask any more about the sleeping arrangements, except to trust that Remus gave each of you your own bed."

"Of course," she said. "Harry, talk please?"

"Hullo, Mr. Weasley," he said weakly.

"Now, no need to be frightened," he said, acting as though he was really enjoying Harry's discomfort. He suddenly realized he knew how Dudley felt when faced with Mr. Weasley before the Quidditch World Cup. "You two at least like each other."

"Love," said Ginny softly. Harry heard it, but he wasn't sure if Mr. Weasley did.

"You should both know by now that all I want is for you to be happy--both of you. If you make each other happy, by all means, do so." Ginny laughed as Harry blushed as hard as he ever had. "Er...that is to say...well..."

"We know what you mean, Dad."

Breakfast was a rapid affair, as the members of the Council kept arriving throughout. When everyone was there, Hermione ushered them all into the basement library, the largest room in the house. There was a long table running through the rectangular room, and Harry took a seat at the head. His Council sat around him, the adults on one side, and his classmates on the other. "First," he began, "thanks for coming." He felt like he was back in the Room of Requirement, ready to lead the first D.A. meeting.

"Susan tells me that I have to name a jury for the trials. She volunteered for it, except the jury to judge Dolohov, since he killed her parents. Ginny and Luna aren't eligible. Hermione can't serve on the jury for Dolohov either. So, for everyone but Dolohov, the jury is Professor Moody, Remus, Mrs. Weasley, Professor Dumbledore, Tonks, Hermione, Susan, Ron, and Neville."

"I would rather not serve on the jury, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I have a role to play, particularly in the Wizengamot, and this might compromise my ability to do so."

"Oh, all right," said Harry. "Professor McGonagall?"

"Of course, Potter," she said.

"Harry, dear," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'm afraid I can't serve for the two Lestranges."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Gideon and Fabian," she said. "My brothers. They killed them."

"Ah. Than maybe...um...I wonder if Kingsley or Snape?"

"Kingsley," said Ron. "Don't put Snape out there for a Death Eater trial."

"Good point," said Harry.

"So, for the Lestranges, it'll be Moody, Remus, Kingsley, Tonks, Professor McGonagall, Hermione, Susan, Ron, and--oh, bugger!"

"Harry!" said Mrs. Weasley and Hermione as one.

"Sorry. Ron couldn't serve for them either. They were his uncles. So how about...um...well how about Mr. Weasley. He wasn't related to them."

"That would work," said Dumbledore. "For Dolohov, may I suggest you substitute Mrs. Weasley and Ron for Hermione and Susan?"

"Of course," said Harry. "Good, now one more question I had."

"Ask away," said the headmaster.

"What should the sentence be? I've thought of death, the Dementor's Kiss, and life in Azkaban or similar, but none of them seem to be a good idea."

"Death only taints the judge and executioner," said Moody. "Never kill unless you have no choice."

"The dementors," added McGonagall, "have defected to Voldemort. Consider that option impractical."

"And life imprisonment," finished Harry, "only invites escape or attack."

"I have an idea," said Mr. Weasley. "Alastor, do you still remember the Obliviata Totalus charm?"

"Of course I do," he said. "Haven't done it in a while, of course, but I could still do it. You want to use that?"

"What's that?" asked Harry.

"Total memory loss," said Hermione.

"Lockhart," said Ginny.

"Bloody brilliant," said Ron.

"It's an idea," concluded Harry.

"It was used all the time in the last war," said Mr. Weasley. "We didn't want to give anyone the Kiss, and before Crouch authorized the death penalty, there was a lot of total obliviation going on--not all of it authorized, mind you," he added.

"They'll end up vegetables," said Luna. "Mindless, wandering shells. Not much better than being Kissed."

"Sorry, Luna," said Hermione, "but it's much better. They can recover. They can learn again. They probably won't have their memories back, but they can rebuild a life. And they can function."

"All in favor," said Neville. "Oh, sorry, Harry."

"No," he replied. "Go ahead."

"All in favor?" Most everyone raised their hands. The only holdouts were Luna and Bill. Luna favored something less drastic, and Bill thought he and a few curse-breaker friends could build a prison even Voldemort couldn't get into.

"Be my guest," was Harry's reply. "But it couldn't be ready in time to use tomorrow, and I plan on trying them then."

"Who, if I may ask," said Dumbledore, "will be your interrogator?"

"Well," he said. "I was thinking about maybe Percy."

"Excellent," said Dumbledore. "Arthur, do ask him if he would serve." Mr. Weasley nodded. "And, to refresh an old man's memory, who are the prisoners?"

Harry was certain Dumbledore had no need to be reminded who the prisoners were, but he also realized that most people in the room didn't know. "Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, Dolohov, MacNair, Avery, and three whose names I don't know."

"Brendan Jugson," said Moody. "Phillip Unicoi, and a fat lout by the name of Crabbe."

Harry smiled at the last name. "Anything else?"

"No, not really," said Dumbledore. "Did you have something else to ask, Harry? Something about an elf?"

"Oh, I didn't remember until now," he blurted. "Can you send Dobby over, please?"

"Certainly. I will do so right away." He stood and left; and the Council broke up.

Harry was the last up the stairs, as he was asking Mr. Weasley to bring Percy to Morag, at least, so that he could persuade him to serve as interrogator. "Make it quick," he added, and went in to get some lunch.

"Have you seen this, Harry?" asked Hermione as came into the kitchen. She and Ron were already eating, and Ginny was making sandwiches.

"Seen what?"

"The book Sirius gave us." She held up a loosely bound collection of parchment. It was a stretch to call it a book.

"What's in it?"

"Cool stuff," said Ginny. "Hey, want a sandwich?"

"I'll get it, Gin."

"No, I'm here. Let me get it for you. You look at that book."

"Look at this part here," said Hermione, opening it to a tattered parchment in the middle. It was written in a scrawl that Harry knew very, very well. It was Sirius' handwriting.

The Animagus Transformation

Below that were various instructions on potions, spells, and wandless magic that went into becoming an Animagus. At the end of it all, the wizard could transform at will.

"You think we should do this?" asked Ron.

"I think it's obvious," said Hermione. "This is what Sirius meant us to find. This, and the front part, about duplicating the map."

"This could be really dangerous, Hermione," said Harry.

"This could be really cool, Harry," said Ginny, setting a plate in front of him, and sliding onto the bench beside him.

"This could be valuable," said Hermione. "Imagine what we could do with these powers. We would be so much better equipped to fight Voldemort."

"Yeah...I dunno. Well, we'll ask Remus after the . But, we can start on these potions to begin with anyway. Can you do them, Hermione?"

"We'll never get any of these ingredients. Milkweed sap, Ioreth root...well, that one's easy, Stinksap...unless Neville has all this, we're in trouble for the first potion."

"I think I can convince Remus to take us to Diagon Alley before the school year starts. We need to do some shopping, and I suppose Neville needs a new wand."

"Too right," he said. "This old thing Gran dug up for me is pretty useless."

"Does she have a problem with you getting your own?" asked Luna.

"Not per se. She just wants me to do my family proud, and she thinks by using my mum's old school trunk, and my dad's old wand, and this thing belonged to Aunt Enid, who passed on..."

"You need you own," she said.

"Do you really think you can get us to Diagon Alley?" asked Ginny softly

"Yeah."

"When?"

"Not till after tomorrow. Why?"

"Um...look, I know you didn't know, so I'm not upset, or anything, but tomorrow's my birthday."

"Oh. Well, I'll get us there as soon as we can. And happy birthday."

"Thanks," she whispered, adding a kiss on the cheek.

After lunch, Mr. Weasley called Harry to Morag, where he had a long and extraordinarily boring discussion with Percy on the possibility of the younger Weasley serving as interrogator. It took some work to convince him, but after it was done, Harry couldn't have asked for more enthusiasm. He had to practically pry himself away to return to the safe house and talk to Dobby.

Harry had no sooner stepped out of the fireplace back in Wales, in fact, when the house-elf hit him with a hug that nearly knocked him clear back to Morag. "Dobby is so pleased to see Harry Potter, sir. Professor Dumbledore came to Dobby this morning, and says, 'Dobby, Harry Potter needs you!' And here Dobby is, sir!"

"It's good to see you too, Dobby. Listen, I need your help with something."

"Anything, sir. What can Dobby do?"

"Well...I have this problem with another elf." And Harry proceeded to tell the house-elf the entire story of Kreacher and his betrayal of Sirius, not to mention the various insults he hurled at the Order, and finally his obstinate refusal to obey Sirius.

"Wicked, nasty house-elf," said Dobby, his eyes shining with a rage Harry had not thought possible for an elf. "Dobby will take care of him, Harry Potter, sir. Should Dobby return here when he is done?"

"Please, Dobby. And I'll ask Ginny or Hermione to whip you up some food."

"Oh, Harry Potter is too kind to Dobby. Dobby must go now. Dobby will not let this Kreacher escape." And with that, Dobby disappeared.

Who is Susan's heir? She is an only child, and has no children.