Stormseeker: Borrowed Destiny

Chapter 60: Dirty Purity

---

A week later, Fudge and his Ministry goons burst into the Great Hall during lunchtime. I look up in alarm and set aside my fork. This is never a good sign, I think.

"Good day, Minister," Dumbledore says, getting up and approaching them. "What brings you to Hogwarts today?"

"Dumbledore!" Fudge says indignantly. "Sirius Black is still hiding out in this castle, there's still a werewolf threatening the students, and you still haven't done anything about this!"

"I assure you, Mr. Fudge, we're doing everything we can--" Dumbledore says.

"I don't believe you!" Fudge snaps.

I have to wonder if Fudge is really trying to make a spectacle out of all of this. If he'd wanted a private conversation with Dumbledore, he could have just sent an owl, or Flooed directly to the Headmaster's office. But instead he storms right in the front gates, in the middle of lunch, no less. He wants an audience, clearly.

"Mr. Fudge..." Dumbledore says with more patience than I would be able to display.

"I've had enough of your excuses," Fudge says. "The children are in danger here, and even now, they're starting to withdraw and hide away for their own safety. I will not stand for this."

"Mr. Fudge--" McGonagall says, coming up to stand next to Dumbledore.

Lupin interrupts her. "I believe I can shed some light on things here," he says. "This entire situation has been blown out of proportion by excessive and wild rumors."

No, no, no. Don't do this, Moony. Please don't do this.

"I am the werewolf in question," Lupin says.

The room is so quiet you could hear a pixie fluttering.

Snape steps up to stand beside Lupin. "I have been diligently preparing wolfsbane potion for him every month. I have taken all the necessary precautions. If he's foolish enough to forget to drink it, that's not my business."

"And I assure you that Remus Lupin is anything but foolish," Dumbledore says.

"You!" Fudge exclaims. "You are the one who has been rampaging about at night, mauling students? And Dumbledore dares to have you teaching students? This is atrocious!"

"He has most certainly not been rampaging--" McGonagall begins.

"I will have you out of this school immediately!" Fudge declares. "And I will have you in Azkaban before you know what hits you!"

"You can't--" Dumbledore tries to protest.

But Fudge isn't listening. He directs his lackeys forward to apprehend Lupin. They confiscate his wand and bind him with spells, and start to take him away. He's not even fighting back. Damn it, why does he just surrender like this?

I can't just stand by watching and letting this happen. I stumble over the table, wand in hand and spells on my tongue to protect my friend.

"Expelliarmus!" I cry. "Flipendo! Mimble Wimble!

I take them by surprise and manage to disarm one of the wizards and disable another, but I don't think I have much hope against more experienced adult wizards here. Even with the help of my friends, who are coming up behind me and backing me up. Rage is boiling in my blood, however, and I don't really care what happens next.

"Potter!" Fudge growls. "You dare attack servants of the Ministry of Magic?"

"I dare protect my friend!" I scream. "Fulgoris!"

My friends and I hail curses upon the enemy wizards, but they're too good for us, and most of us can't even cast a proper Shield Charm. I think I might have even killed one of them. And then a curse hits me full on, and I stagger, vision blurring. I'm not entirely certain what hit me, but I'm down, flat on the floor in pain.

People are yelling my name, but it sounds like they're a thousand miles away, and underwater. I think I'm bleeding. My life is quickly leaving me, and death takes me in moments.

---

I wake in the Gryffindor dormitory, still shaking a little. Perhaps, in retrospect, that was not the smartest way I could have handled that.

I have Potions this morning, and don't really care to repeat that class period, although I suppose I could use the practice. My Potions scores are still barely acceptable, after all. But I'd much rather be spending the time trying to figure out a way to deal with this encroaching problem.

I go to see Moony before breakfast. This had better not be the last time I ever see him in this life. I don't want to lose him now, not after everything we've been through.

"Good morning, Stormseeker," Moony says. "Is there a problem?"

I mutter a few quick privacy spells. "The Ministry's coming at lunchtime," I say. "Fudge is pretty damned pissed."

"What?" Moony says, frowning. "How did you... What happened?"

"They were going to take you away," I say. "They wanted to haul you off to Azkaban."

"There's no way that they could justify that," Moony says.

"You're talking about the assholes who didn't even give Padfoot a trial," I say.

"What did you do?" Moony asks.

"Stupidly got myself killed trying to protect you," I say, smirking.

"Oh, Harry," Moony says, shaking his head.

"Don't you dare go up and surrender to them, Moony," I say.

"Harry, don't do this," Moony says. "Don't sacrifice yourself for my sake."

"And don't you sacrifice yourself for mine!" I snap. "And I swear to you, if you wind up in Azkaban, I will tear down the walls of that place with my bare hands if need be to get you out!"

Moony sighs. "I'm sure it won't come to that, Harry," he says. "I'd really prefer that you didn't go attacking Ministry employees for my sake, please."

I rub my eyes. This is getting nowhere. "Alright, Moony. I've given you my warning. What you do with it is up to you."

I go to eat breakfast, then obligatorily practice at Potions some more, and then lunch comes along again. Just as before, Fudge comes storming in again along with his lackeys. He starts blustering and fuming, flinging accusations left and right. And then Moony goes to confess and offer to resign again, despite my warning.

"You will be out of this school at once!" Fudge declares. "And you will be in Azkaban before you can blink!"

I sigh inwardly. I still can't let this happen. I dart across the room to stand next to Moony. "I won't let you do this," I say. "I stand with Remus Lupin."

"Nor will I," Draco says, taking a position next to me.

"Nor I," Neville says, joining us.

First the inner circle proclaims their support. Then the rest of Storm Army, and a number of other students.

"He's the best Defense teacher I've ever had," Gemma says.

"Remus Lupin is great!" Ginny exclaims. "You won't take him from us."

"Ginny, what are you doing?" Ron says, looking scandalized. "He supports the Stormseeker!"

"Ron, don't be a prat," Ginny tells him. "Not everything is about Harry Potter!"

"I appreciate the support, kids," Lupin says. "But--"

"But nothing!" Draco snaps. "The rumors are false and you know it."

"I won't stand by and let you ruin the reputation of a good man," Neville says.

"Dumbledore!" Fudge exclaims furiously. "What have you been teaching these children to think that it's acceptable to speak to the Minister of Magic in such a way?"

"That," Dumbledore says, "is Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Stormseeker. He has a way about him, you could say. You or I can no more control him than you could a storm."

I can't take these people on in a straight-up fight. Perhaps I should try diplomacy. Theodore's book suggested that the best way to get what you want is to first figure out what the other person wants. What is Fudge's stake in all this? I would imagine that it isn't just to protect the children, much as he claims. I make a guess that what he really wants is power and control, and he fears that he's rapidly losing his control here.

I go up to Fudge and say quietly, "Minister, no offense, but I don't think that fighting this battle like this will be in your best interest."

"Is that a threat, boy?" Fudge hisses.

"No," I say. "Just an observation. When is the next election?"

"Hmph," Fudge says, looking about the room with eyes moving rapidly across the students standing in support of Lupin.

"Mr. Fudge, there is no need for this," Lupin says. "I'll resign, I won't be any danger to the children--"

"No way," I snap at him to be quiet, then turn back to Fudge to continue more quietly. "Wouldn't you rather have my support than my antagonism? Perhaps we can come to a reasonable compromise instead."

"I am not an unreasonable man," Fudge says, straightening his clothes deliberately. "The children clearly love this beast, for whatever deluded reason that might be. What do you propose, Mr. Potter?"

"Allow him to teach the remainder of the term," I say. "Let him resign of his own accord at the end of the year. Don't arrest him or send him to Azkaban. And in exchange, you will have... my gratitude and support."

"Hmm..." Fudge says thoughtfully, looking at me calculatingly. I have to wonder if he was in Slytherin when he was in school. "Your support could indeed be a valuable thing... Very well. Your terms are acceptable." He holds out his hand, and I look at it for half a moment before taking it to shake it. I'm used to bowing to people. Shaking hands still seems weird. But this is clearly a gesture of sealing a deal, rather than a respectful greeting.

"Thank you, Mr. Fudge," I say. "I look forward to doing business with you."

Fudge speaks up and addresses the room. "Carry on, students. I apologize for the interruption. I'll be on my way now." He turns and leaves the room, taking his lackeys with him.

Draco is staring at the doors as he goes. "Did you just talk down the Minister of Magic?"

"I feel dirty," I say, shoulders slumping a little. "And Theodore, I could kiss you."

"Aw, how sweet," Theodore says. "But don't say things like that and not follow through."

I snicker softly, and then go over to plant a wet one smack on Theodore's lips. So far as first kisses go, it's nothing impressive. I don't understand why some of the girls seem to obsess over them.

---

I have no idea how or why a picture of me snogging Theodore winds up on the front page of the Daily Prophet the next morning. At least the picture of me shaking hands with Fudge also appears, and is bigger. I just roll my eyes at that, chuck the paper over to Theodore, and go back to eating breakfast.

With the Ministry off of Moony's back for the moment, I can hope for a bit of a breather, at least. Aside from the fact that now the entire wizarding world seems to think that Theodore Nott is my boyfriend.

"I always knew there was something queer about you," Ron says during one Dueling Club. "You better not be ogling me while I'm changing!"

"Ron, quit being a prat," Ginny says.

"Mimble Wimble," I cast to make Ron shut up about it already.

"I'd say he's just jealous he hasn't got a boyfriend yet," Blaise says.

I think this is one rumor I can safely ignore, however. Neither I nor Theodore is the least bit serious about anything, and Storm Army doesn't care, so what does it really matter? I'm not about to insult Theodore by denying it, but I don't particularly care to acknowledge it either, especially when it's not true anyway. So I just let it go.

It takes about a month for the rumor to die, but it does eventually get forgotten.

---

"Sirius, I trust you have been well?" Dumbledore asks.

"Well enough," Sirius says. "The boys have been taking good care of me." He chuckles in amusement. "They've been watching my back and letting me get some practice in, too. I never thought that I'd be reliving third year vicariously in the Slytherin dorms!"

"Don't tell me you're actually starting to like the Slytherins, Sirius?" I jab him teasingly.

"Of course not," Sirius says, a little too quickly.

I grin at him. "Sure you're not."

"Sirius, I'll need you to come with me to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place for a bit," Dumbledore says. "I'm going to be setting things up and checking the wards, and since the house will only recognize you as its proper owner, you'll need to be there. I'd also like to cast the Fidelius Charm over it. Who would you like to be the Secret-Keeper?"

"Harry, of course," Sirius replies immediately.

"Are you absolutely certain on that?" Dumbledore asks.

Sirius looks at him as though he's just said something stupid. "Harry's not Peter," he says, and then snorts in amusement. "And considering his... unique circumstances, I know quite well that he would rather die than betray me."

"And what do you think of this, Harry?" Dumbledore asks.

I nod. "I'll do it," I say. "I don't know that I'd fully trust my judgment, but my paranoia factor has increased consirably over this past term."

"Well, I trust your judgment," Sirius says. "You couldn't have predicted what Dean would do. But after watching your friends stand up to the Minister of Magic at your side without hesitation like that, I think you've chosen well."

"Very well," Dumbledore says. "Let's go and take care of it. This may take a little while."

"Good to have it done before Easter holiday, though," Sirius says. "It'll be nice to have someplace I can go where I don't have to pretend to be a dog."

Dumbledore, Sirius, Moony, and I head over to Grimmauld Place by portkey. I've totally got to learn that spell sometime, but it's probably way above my level right now.

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place is a big, old pureblood house that doesn't look like anyone has actually lived in it for years. Which is an observation of the obvious, really. Perhaps it's just that it's an overcast, dreary day, but the place seems more than a little dark.

"Never thought I'd be coming back here again," Sirius says. "But I suppose that's just as well, as then people might not suspect that I'd ever come back here!"

"It will be safe enough, I believe," Dumbledore says as we head inside.

The doorway opens into a hallway, and along the way, a portrait of a woman catches sight of us. "Filth! Mudbloods! Blood traitors!" she screams. "Sirius, how dare you return to the house of my fathers after I cast you out!"

"Hello, mother," Sirius groans.

"That's your mother?" I wonder.

"You have the distinct pleasure of meeting Walburga Black," Sirius drawls.

"And who is this brat you have brought into this sacred house?" Walburga demands. "Some half-blood offspring you got off a Mudblood witch?"

"I'm Harry Potter," I say. "I'm pleased to meet you, Lady Black." I give a polite bow toward the portrait.

"Polite half-blood scum is still half-blood scum," Walburga says. "You should know your place!"

"I assure you, Lady Black, I am a pureblood," I say.

"Nonsense!" Walburga retorts. "Your mother was that filthy Mudblood that the Potter boy, James, ran after, wasn't she?"

"That was a mistake," I say. "As it turns out, my mother is actually the descendant of an ancient pureblood line."

"Hmph," Walburga says. "Well, I have no way to dispute that claim. But Sirius! Dirty blood traitor! Muggle lover!"

"Is this the way you treat your beloved, repentent son returning home after spending over a decade in Azkaban?" I say.

"I-- what?" Sirius says. "I'm not--"

I step on his foot. "He's long since seen the error of his former ways. Haven't you, Sirius?"

"Uh..." Sirius says. "Oh, yes, quite, quite. It was all merely the foolishness of youth."

Walburga peers at him appraisingly, and then glances at Moony. "And what of this mangy creature?"

"Um... a housepet?" I venture.

"And what is Albus Dumbledore doing here?" she demands.

"I'm merely here to perform some advanced spellwork and make certain that the wards are still intact," Dumbledore says. "That is all."

Walburga snorts softly. "I'm still not convinced that you're truly repentent, Sirius. Why couldn't you have been more like your brother?"

"Come now," I say. "He's had a rough time of it. I've been hiding him out in the Slytherin dorms, but this is his home! He's still a fugitive from the law, a murderer, and will need the protection of this place as a safe haven. Would you deny that to your long lost wayward son, returning home to his rightful place?"

Walburga grumbles a little. "Fine. Welcome home, Sirius. And for your sake, the boy better be telling the truth. If I see anyone in here that I don't approve of, you'll never get a moment's rest in this house!" She goes back to glaring at Moony.

Moony bows graciously to the painting and says, "Pay me no mind, Lady Black. I am merely a humble manservant and bodyguard."

Walburga grumbles a bit more. "Go on, then. And Sirius! You'd better find a good pureblood witch to marry! You might not have been my ideal son, but I'll be quite cross with you if the Ancient and Noble House of Black dies with you!"

Sirius groans a little. "Yes, mother. I'll be sure to look into getting an heir."

We continue on past the painting and out of the hallway. Sadly, the portrait isn't the last of our potential problems. While we're inspecting the kitchen, a bedraggled house-elf comes out an accosts us.

"You!" the house-elf screams. "You dare return to the noble house of Black? What would my old mistress think if she saw you here?"

Sirius groans again. "Kreacher," he mutters. "I would have hoped you'd died by now."

"Now, now, Sirius," I say. "You should always be kind to house-elves. After all, Lucius Malfoy says so."

Sirius stares at me like I'm insane. "Lucius said that? What the hell did you do, put him under the Imperius Curse or something?"

"Although I kind of have to wonder why he hasn't gone back on that despite what happened..." I murmur.

"Never mind," Sirius says. "I'm starting to think that you must have the entire damned wizarding world under the Imperius Curse. You're insane."

Kreacher is staring at both of us like we're insane. I've apparently successfully stricken a house-elf speechless.

"Anyway," I say. "Hello, Kreacher. I'm Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you. We've already had a little talk with Walburga's portrait in the hallway and explained the situation to her. Your loyalty is quite commendable."

"Harry, do I have to be nice to the house-elf?" Sirius whines.

"Yes, you have to be nice to the house-elf," I say. "If you don't, you can sleep in the doghouse."

Sirius smirks. "But he was always miserable to me when I was younger."

"If Lucius Malfoy can be nice to house-elves, so can you," I retort. "Or do you want to be more of a dick than Lucius Malfoy?"

"Oh, now that's a low blow," Sirius says. "Fine! Kreacher! I'm glad to see you! This place really looks like it could use a lot of work! I just escaped from Azkaban, you know, and I'm feeling quite repentent about my foolish former youthful, uh, foolishness. So, can you start getting this place cleaned up? I'm hoping to spend Easter here with my beloved godson, who is totally actually a pureblood."

Kreacher stares at Sirius in disbelief. "Oh, mistress would be so pleased!" Kreacher exclaims. "I'll get to work immediately!" He vanishes with a pop.

"It's always good to be kind to house-elves," Dumbledore says. "They can cause no end of trouble for a master that they dislike."

"You're both insane," Sirius says with a snort.

"September 19th is House-Elf Appreciation Day," I say brightly.

"Completely barmy," Sirius adds.

"Let's get this charm taken care of," Dumbledore says.

"Will I need to do anything?" I ask.

"Come with me," Dumbledore says.

We make preparations for the spell. It seems very complex and powerful. There isn't much that I have to do, since it's Dumbledore that's casting the spell and not me, but I need to be present and willingly accept the secret.

"So how will this work?" I ask.

"The secret will be locked within you," Dumbledore says. "Only those who you tell it to directly will be able to learn of it, and they cannot reveal it. It cannot be extracted with Legilimency or Veratiserum. It has to be given willingly, and only by you. If you die, all those who have been told the secret will become Secret-Keepers."

"I see," I say.

I wonder why this spell wasn't used to keep the secret of my not being Harry Potter, or my being a time traveler, or even that of Moony being a werewolf. Perhaps it only works on locations? I wonder if there's another version of it that might work on any secret. Could be good to look into sometime. I seem to have quite a large need for keeping secrets, after all.

Once we're back at Hogwarts, Sirius says, "Do I really need to be nice to that house-elf?"

I sigh and smirk at him. "Yes, Sirius."

"And why am I pretending to be a good Black or something, anyway?" Sirius asks.

"Who's going to know the difference?" I say. "Easier to lie to a painting than get screamed at every time you walk in."

"What if Kreacher notices something?" Sirius asks.

"I imagine if you're nice enough to him, by the time he realizes, he won't care anymore anyway," I say, shrugging. "Pureblood supremacy is silly, but easy enough to get around. Have you noticed the Slytherins don't bat an eye at Hermione anymore? Even the ones who aren't in my circle?"

"How did you manage to accomplish that?" Sirius wonders.

"I started a rumor that she's really Ravenclaw's secret heir," I say, snickering. "Turns out that they'd rather believe that, than that this Mudblood witch is somehow the top of her year out of nowhere."

"I don't think that's really helping the cause of bringing down pureblood supremacy," Sirius points out.

"As I've told Rispy, you can't change deep-seated, long-held beliefs overnight," I say.

"Who's Rispy?" Sirius wonders.

"A free-born elf who has been trying to put an end to the slavery of his people," I explain.

"Oh," Sirius says, blinking. "How's that working out for him?"

"He's currently assisting teaching Care of Magical Creatures," I say. "And is at least more sensible about that than Hagrid. Probably the main reason there haven't been many injuries in that class."

---

For Easter holiday, I'll be staying at Grimmauld Place along with Sirius and Moony. Kreacher has made good progress on getting things cleaned up, to the point where it's hardly recognizable as the same house.

The day after Easter sunday, all of my friends arrive by portkey. Outside the house, I tell Hermione, "Remember, no mention of your parentage unless you really want a painting screaming at us all."

"Right," Hermione says, nodding.

I lead them inside. "Everyone, this is Walburga Black," I say, gesturing to the portrait.

"And who are these children?" Walburga asks. "No filthy Mudbloods or blood traitors, I hope?"

"Certainly not," I say. "These are my friends, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood." I really ought to learn Crabbe and Goyle's first names sometime.

"Oh, yes, there are some good pureblood names there..." Walburga concedes. "But, Longbottom? Aren't they blood traitors? Your parents--"

"Don't speak of my parents," Neville says, glaring at the painting hard. "Look at who I'm associating with. And would you like the names of the Mudbloods I've helped to kill?"

Walburga looks positively delighted. "Oh, that's wonderful! Another pureblood line has returned to its proper place!"

We continue on into the house, and I say to Neville, "Thanks for that, but are you sure you're okay with this?"

"I'm fine," Neville says. "She's just a painting, anyway. And it's not like anyone actually alive in this house did ever anything to my family."

"She didn't even notice my name," Hermione murmurs.

"There might be some obscure pureblood line with that name?" I say, shrugging. "Or she just got distracted with Neville. I don't know. Doesn't matter. The painting is happy, the house-elf is happy, good enough for me."

"There's an awful lot of nargles in here," Luna says in distaste.

The next day, most of my friends return to their homes, but Draco holds back.

"Not going home, Draco?" I ask.

Draco shakes his head. "I just... I can't do it. I don't like seeing my father like this. Especially knowing that it's all a lie. It's easier if I just stay away from him, you know?"

I nod. "I understand."

We join Moony for tea. The house is quieter without so many people around, but it's so big and with so much room that now it just feels a little empty. The place is just begging to be used as my secret headquarters.

"So, everyone knows you're a werewolf now, Professor Lupin," Draco says. "Have you had much trouble because of it?"

"Not really," Moony says. "Surprising, really. The students have been very supportive. Even the ones I would have expected to be most vehemently against it."

"The Slytherins, you mean?" Draco says with a smirk.

"I wasn't going to say that," Moony says.

"No, but you were thinking it," Draco says, chuckling. "It's alright. Maybe things would have been different if it weren't for the Stormseeker. But maybe not. You're a great teacher. By this point, everyone should really expect that the Defense teacher probably has some dark secret of some sort. And frankly, being a werewolf is the most tame dark secret I've heard of."

"If that's tame, I hate to ask what your other teachers were like," Moony says.

"First year, our teacher was possessed by the Dark Lord," I say lightly. "And he kept killing me."

Moony stares at me. "You take that entirely too much in stride, I think."

I shrug. "Not really. But I'd have gone crazy by now if I didn't have a sense of humor about it. Sometimes I feel like I'm a bad luck magnet, but that doesn't explain the ridiculously unlikely ways I've managed to find to die in." I snort softly. "After seeing the state this house used to be in, I kept half expecting to be killed by doxies."

"No more doxies in here, I don't think," Sirius says, coming in. "But there's a room full of old dark stuff, some nasty looking books, and whatnot. I'm thinking of getting rid of some of it."

My eyes widen in delight. "Certainly not," I say. "There might be something useful and interesting in there!"

"You really shouldn't be poking around in that sort of thing, you know," Sirius says.

"It can't be worse than the Chamber of Secrets," I say.

Sirius sighs. "Oh, whatever. Fine, I'll leave it be. Do what you want. But don't come complaining to me if you get killed by something."

I go over and hug Sirius. "Thanks! You're the best godfather ever!"

"Are you just saying that because I'm not even really trying to be any sort of father figure?" Sirius says. "You're going to do whatever you want anyway... and it seems a little silly to try to keep an immortal being out of harm's way. Even if it does seem you get into some nasty things for a thirteen year old boy."

"I'm turning fifteen in May," I say.

"Huh?" Sirius says. "How does that even work? Oh... right, that. Doesn't that get confusing?"

"A little," I admit.

"Fine, I'll amend that," Sirius says. "You get into some nasty things for an almost-fifteen year old boy. And are those Dream Sweets I've seen you taking at night?"

"Yes," I reply.

Sirius sighs. "My godson is a murderer, a dark wizard, and a drug addict. I'm a horrible godfather."

"Nah," Draco says.