43 Freedom

Same day. Hogwarts.

- Let the ball begin! - A wave of Dumbledore's wand sent a small fireworks display upwards.

The first tune played as the Witches invited to the party began a rousing song. Neville gently squeezed the slender, almost transparent fingers of Luna Lovegood, who was wearing her usual evening dress this time, unwound his partner and then pulled her sharply to him.

Standing off to the side with Ron, who was devouring his food, Hermione scrutinised Longbottom, who had changed a lot in six months. The unkempt boy who was embarrassed by a girl's smile was clearly a thing of the past. Now the heavily slimmed young man was leading his partner in the dance, smiling at her and sometimes even easily picking her up by the waist, lifting her into the air.

Granger looked at Ron, who was finishing his second plate of sandwiches, and sighed - she wasn't going to be in a circle of sliding couples before the first slow dance, and the redhead was dancing even worse than he was learning.

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who were standing next to the Weasley twins, looked at the girl sympathetically, and at the same time with hidden gloating. Parvati, however, looked a little displeased herself - having asked Neville a couple of days ago about his partner for the ball, the girl had received a polite refusal, so she'd gone to the party with George.

Fast and rhythmic melody, which required a lot of choreographic skills from the dancers to keep the pace and move clearly and beautifully, finally quieted down. The lead singer of the Witches, waving her long platinum hair, sang a slow, romantic love song accompanied by minor music.

- 'Ron,' Hermione poked the redhead under the ribs. - 'Let's go dancing.

Ron, glancing at the girl and finally appreciating the extent of her displeasure, obediently led his partner out into the magically lit section of the hall, carefully putting his arm around her slim waist.

- Neville, tell me what kind of Magical Gloaming prickle you're going to plant on Malfoy," the girl, flushed from her fast dance, was breathing heavier than usual, her usually pale cheeks flushed, and her hair, already slightly dishevelled, occasionally fell over her face.

Longbottom mentally cursed Harry for making idiotic jokes.

- Actually, Luna," he said, not taking his eyes off the girl's dry, cracked pale lips, which occasionally had a small tongue running between them, "Harry was just making a silly joke.

- Well," the girl pouted a little, "I was hoping that I could write about such an unusual plant in the 'Priggery' section of Magical Science News later!

- I think I have something to make up for the consequences of our mutual friend's joke," Neville smiled weakly, dismissing thoughts of the rather difficult conversation he'd had with his grandmother a few days ago.

- And in what way? - Luna widened her eyes in bewilderment, moving closer to the boy.

Instead of answering, Neville pulled the girl closer, touching his lips to hers. Luna's frail body stiffened for a second, and then the girl's hands gently rested on his shoulders.

- 'Bust my eyes, brother,' Fred, who had looked in their direction at that moment, faltered. - Are you seeing what I am seeing?

- No, brother, you and I are both crazy to see our humble Neville kissing Lunacy. We need to get something stronger to drink right away. - Picking up the chirping girls, the twins headed for the table, which had a large bottle of firewhiskey strapped under the lid.

By midnight, when the teachers had managed to disperse the dancing students, reprimand some of the drunken seniors, and calm down the Gryffindor Heads who were fighting again, there was a lull in the hall. The students, talking sluggishly and cursing their teachers for ending the party early, quietly sprawled out in the living rooms, some of them planning to continue the celebration into the morning, each faculty in its own way.

The twins, with the girls in their arms, were among the first to pile into the Gryffindor common room, immediately tossing a drugged powder into the fire, causing occasional fits of laughter in anyone who inhaled the almost inaudible aroma.

- P-r-r-ay. - Fred, after kissing Lavender, pulled another bottle from the sofa.

Ron, George, Seamus and Thomas joined the company, setting their glasses to the stream of the foaming drink.

- Where's our Neville? - The most sober Seamus asked, glancing round the living room. - Where is our valiant leader?

Neville was neither in the living room nor in the bedroom.

If Granger hadn't gone to bed as soon as she'd returned from her final argument with Ron, the Head Girl in charge would have notified McGonagall about the absent student, and the senior students wouldn't have been able to drink to their heart's content after the lecture the Head Girl would have given them. But she retired to her room, locking herself in from the inside. The other Headmaster, who was smiling blissfully at the firewhiskey, was already knee-deep in the sea, and the others didn't care about Neville's disappearance.

- Our leader had gone on a bender. - George raised his glass, already thoroughly drunk. - Here's to him having a good time!

Neville, who, wincing at his own audacity, was now cautiously creeping through the corridors of Hogwarts with Luna Lovegood, stopped, looking at the Marauders' map.

- Okay, Snape had gone to the dungeons, Filch was in his room for now, and the professors were in the Headmaster's office. Come on!

- Tricky, tricky Neville is leading a girl through Hogwarts at night," Luna's usually dreamy voice was full of emotion. The girl's lips were already slightly swollen from the kisses they had exchanged in the hall and in the corridors on the way to the Wishing Room. - Have you decided to take me on a romantic date to the training hall?

- Not exactly," Neville released the locking spell the first time.

This time the room took on the appearance of a sitting room with a blazing fireplace, fluffy carpets and a table with sweets and drinks by the fire.

- So it's not just a training room, is it? - Luna looked around the room curiously, walking along the walls and touching the carvings adorning the wood panelling with her hand.

- She can be anything we want her to be," Neville smiled embarrassedly. - Sirius asked me not to tell you about this property...

- Because he doesn't trust the people who betrayed Harry? - Luna responded.

- He doesn't know which students at Hogwarts can be trusted and which can't. Except for you and me, of course. I've yet to find out," Neville shook his head.

- So you didn't just agree to Hermione's offer to be in this group for nothing? - Luna looked at her friend seriously.

- Yes. By the time Harry gets back, I should know who's going to side with him and who's going to continue to trust Dumbledore blindly.

Luna, deciding not to get serious anymore, dropped her shoes after the first kisses of her life and spun around the room with her arms spread.

- I enjoyed the ball tonight," she turned to Neville with a smile, standing frozen with her arms raised for a moment. - The romantic music, the dancing, the kissing.

The girl spun round again, humming some tune she knew, and the walls of the room suddenly responded to her song, the slow song of violin and piano echoing Luna's words in the Wishing Room.

Neville watched with a kind of detached delight as his beloved clapped her hands together in delight and danced, eyes closed, no longer distracted by the singing. Her dishevelled hair was out of place, falling over her face and encircling her slim figure in a light-coloured cloak that reached to her waist. Small bare feet stepped confidently on the shaggy carpet. The music of Hogwarts and the magic of the ancient castle surrounded the girl with a plume of power incomprehensible to the young wizard, now he understood what his grandmother was talking about when she touched on the topic of the Lovegood family. Their magic was incomprehensible and incomprehensible to most living mages, but it was also so attractive.

Making up his mind, the boy with some effort managed to fit into the rhythm of Luna's dance, hugging her around the waist. The eyes opened with fire burning inside literally robbed him of his ability to think. The boy's magic, restrained by many barriers, gradually unfolded, weaving itself into the dance.

Hogwarts, an ancient castle filled with powers not fully understood by even the best minds, danced along with them. Somewhere in the depths of the multi-layered magical fields, ashes were crumbling away, and something was sprouting anew, like grass in the spring. Ancient Hogwarts, preserving in its worn stone slabs the memory of the four Founders' steps, was being renewed, waiting for the arrival of the girl who could help it.

Dumbledore, sitting alone over the papers in his office, listened anxiously to the beat of magic that filled the castle. For the second time since the beginning of the year, something beyond his sight and comprehension was happening. The Headmaster's phoenix, on the other hand, was sleeping peacefully with its head tucked under its wing.

- Something's going on, Fawkes, something's going on. - Throwing a disgruntled glance at Hellfire smiling from the portrait, the old wizard clutched his wand tightly and left the office to search for the source of the disturbance.

- Happening," Hellfire grinned from the portrait. - 'In my day, headmasters were better at magic.

12 January 1996.

- Honourable members of the Tribunal. - Again the same atmosphere of the German building of the International Tribunal, only the people were different. The same Lichtenstein stood in the chair, smiling contentedly at his thoughts, but in the place where the accused Sirius Black was summoned last time, this time it was Albus Dumbledore.

The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, surrounded by his advisors, among whom flashed Umbridge's black bowtie and Lucius Malfoy's platinum hair, seemed troubled. On the one hand, Dumbledore was being blamed; on the other, what was happening was casting a shadow over the entire English system of government.

I sat in a separate box, along with Sirius Black, the German Aurorat guards, and the hooded cloaks James, Jean-Claude, and Ciaran were wrapped in. The muggle mage was genuinely enjoying himself, judging by his gestures, but glanced at Dumbledore carefully, tracking his movements. Sirius Black did not hide his triumph, even the need to maintain at least a semblance of loyalty to the creator of the Order of the Phoenix could not drown out the fierce light in the aristocrat's eyes at the sight of the Headmaster who had sent the infant to his personal hell.

- 'Look, Harry,' Sirius said quietly, 'to Fudge's left sits Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Law and Order.

- Honourable members of the Tribunal. - Lichtenstein looked around at the assembled audience, -Today's proceedings are about the illegal guardianship and violation of the terms of the will of an ancient noble family, withholding important information from the child in their care. The English Ministry of Magic has done nothing to remedy the situation in fifteen years, so Mr Potter has turned to the International Tribunal for justice.

The eyes of those gathered, including Dumbledore's, crossed at me, but I managed to firmly meet the Headmaster's angry gaze without slurring. With some surprise on the faces of the English, they managed to identify me - for the sake of the meeting, I'd put on the same bicycle glasses I'd worn at Hogwarts, only these were diopter-free, dyed my hair the black colour they were familiar with, and hadn't put coloured lenses in my eyes. I could literally feel the stares of Dumbledore, Malfoy, and Fudge fixed on my forehead. I could tell by the way Dumbledore's pupils dilated for a second and his lips quivered that he was at least guessing at the contents of my disappearing scar.

- Mr Potter, would you mind repeating your accusations again for the tribunal members?

I stood up, bowing to the assembled crowd.

- Gentlemen, I thank you that my request has not gone unheeded. - Ciaran moved his wand and made my voice audible throughout the hall. - Almost fifteen years ago, the greatest of England's dark wizards, Voldemort, came to the home of my family, the Potter family. The reasons why he decided to kill me, an infant, thus singling me out from all the others, are unknown to me. Nor what an infant could know. My mother and father died a warrior's death, defending their family to the last. - I bowed my head, silent for a moment.

- After my parents died, the question of which family would raise the heir to the Potter family, the last member of the Potter family. I spent the next ten years of my life, not knowing my heritage or even my parents' names, with my mother's Muggle relatives, who hated magic and treated me like a slave - beating me, bullying me, accusing my parents of being the dregs of society, unworthy of being called human. - My voice grew stronger, filled with anger.

- Eleven years later, one of the Hogwarts staff came to my family with the news that I was a wizard. But even once I got to the school, I was given no information about my parents, my lineage, the traditions of the wizarding world, or my heritage. I was allowed to take a hundred Galleons from the children's safe once a year, and the key to the safe was kept by Albus Dumbledore. - I felt Sirius Black tense up next to me.

- At the end of my fourth year, through a random coincidence, I learnt that some information was being kept from me. After contacting the goblins in the English branch of Gringotts, I found out that my real guardian was Albus Dumbledore, who, without making me aware of my parents' safe, prevented me from receiving account statements and freely used the Potters' money as my guardian. The goblin investigation revealed that none of the account statements or the invitation to speak to Gringotts had ever reached the Potter family heir. - I shook my head, as if amazed at the human meanness.

- I'd had the opportunity to live in a normal family, to use the childhood safe my parents had inherited from me, but I'd spent eleven years of my life, and then every summer until my fourth year, in poverty, bullied and beaten by relatives who said I was a freeloader who wasted their money. - Wallenstein, who had not taken his eyes off the director until then, looked at me and nodded encouragingly.

- Some time later I managed to find out that there was a will of the Potter family, certified and sealed in the presence of witnesses by their solicitor. That honourable man was now still in the ward of the hopelessly ill in England, completely deprived of mind and memory as a result of what was claimed to be a raid by the Death Eaters, servants of Voldemort. The will appeared to be duly signed, but it also bore the resolution of the Minister of Magic, Millicenta Bagnold, and the head of the Wizengamot, Albus Dumbledore, that the matter was classified. - I almost growled the headmaster's name.

- Upon examining the will, I was astonished, gentlemen. The will clearly stated a list of wizarding families to whose care I was to be placed in the event of my parents' deaths. Among them was Lord Black, thrown into Azkaban without trial after the First War, Remus Lupin, an old friend of my parents who, being a werewolf, would not be able to become a guardian due to the discriminatory policies of the English Ministry of Magic. There were Frank and Alice Longbottom, who, as a result of an attack by Voldemort's servants right after the war, ended up in the ward of the hopelessly ill next to the Potters' solicitor. There were other families that survived the war, families of both light and dark wizards. But one exception stated in the will," I looked at the Headmaster and saw him tense up. - The one exception states that under no circumstances am I to be placed in the care of my mother's relatives. But it was with them that I spent a long and very memorable fourteen years.

- Then, as I and the private investigators I hired in the Muggle world managed to find out, there were repeated complaints of child abuse filed against my Muggle guardians' family. But then those complaints were magically withdrawn, the records of the medic's examinations somehow disappeared, and witnesses seemed to lose their memories when called in for questioning. I can't accuse the director of THIS, because there is not the slightest evidence of who organised this harassment, but I can tell you one thing. - I looked coldly at Dumbledore, who wasn't hiding his rage now. - When I received my first letter from Hogwarts, it was signed with the address 'the cupboard under the stairs', meaning that the esteemed Headmaster, the greatest light wizard of all, knew where and how I had spent the happy years of my childhood.

- Nor could I blame Headmaster Dumbledore for the fact that throughout my time at Hogwarts he had repeatedly slipped me potions of friendship, affection and was even going to get me drunk on a spell potion and instil feelings for one of the girls loyal to him. - At this, as if a murmur went through the ranks of the tribunal members and the journalists present. - Because now my memory, repeatedly cleaned up in recent years, is still not fully restored, despite the efforts of healers hired by me.

- But I accuse the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the Grand Wizard of Light, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, of breaking the terms of my parents' will by placing me with Muggle relatives. - I glanced around the gathering. - He didn't make me aware of my rights as heir to an ancient family, nor did he allow me any contact with the Potters' account manager. He had arbitrarily arrogated to himself the rights of my guardian and had done nothing to take care of me, sending me to a personal hell for years to come.

The hall erupted into a murmur. Dumbledore looked at me like he was ready to curse me. However, the presence of dozens of powerful wizards in the room, who were clearly not loyal to him, and the auras of Ciaran, who had gone into a battle trance, and Bleek, blazing with magic, left him no chance for a forceful solution.

- Thank you, Mr Potter. - Lichtenstein coughed, even having read all the documents Delacourt Senior had provided more than once, the aristocrat seemed flustered. - Honourable members of the Tribunal, the documents provided by Mr Potter proved to be authentic.

- The Potters' will, with resolutions from the Minister and the Head of the Wizengamot. - Fudge turned pale, glancing frantically back and forth at me and Dumbledore.

- A protocol for appointing Dumbledore as Mr Potter's guardian, "due to the lack of other applicants and the loss of the Potter family's will." - An official-looking scroll with many seals lay on the table. Malfoy looked down at the scroll thoughtfully, obviously absorbed in his own thoughts, perhaps trying to figure out how I'd managed to get my hands on such documents.

- Medical evidence of Mr Potter's medical condition. - A long scroll of parchment, scribbled in Andre Martignac's hand, fell into the pile.

- A surviving eyewitness account of child abuse. - A white sheet of Muggle letterhead joined the rest of the pile.

- An envelope from a letter Mr Potter had received in his first year. - An envelope eventually found at the very bottom of the trunk, all crumpled and still smelling from the bomb blast in the room. It had taken some effort to retrieve that envelope, because shortly after Snape's ignominious flight from the Dursley house, the chest had been seized and placed at Hogwarts in Filch's warehouse of confiscated dangerous items. The irony was that the chest was taken from the Dursley house by Alastor, who was asked by the Headmaster to replace the once screwed-up Snape in case the chest contained other traps. Alastor ended up dropping in on Dumbledore, and after the meeting, visiting Filch's warehouse, pulling an envelope from the chest.

- Memories of a beating. - Silver bottles of memories lay on the table next to the Memory Pool.

- A medics' certificate of Oblivion spells applied to Mr Potter.

The four Aurors standing near the Memory Mouth waved their wands, giving it their power, allowing all the Tribunal members gathered in the room to immerse themselves in viewing the memories. Dumbledore, Fudge, and Bones were also given the opportunity to view the life of a Hero of the magical world.

The viewing lasted over two hours. Frozen in stone stillness, the bodies of the wizards were entangled in the fine threads of illusion magic that burst from the ancient chalice of the Pool of Memory. Only the aurors changed every fifteen minutes, replacing their exhausted comrades.

At last the Maelstrom was extinguished, and Lichtenstein, rubbing his forehead, used his wand to collect the memories from it back into the bottles. The assembled were silent, digesting all the endless scenes of swearing, insults, beatings, the rare moments of sympathy from the teachers and their subsequent dismissal. The pictures couldn't prove whether Dumbledore had actually contributed to making my life a living hell, but they reinforced my accusation that I had violated the terms of my will.

- Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. - Lichtenstein has taken the floor. - The Tribunal postpones your statement until all members of the Tribunal have thoroughly examined the evidence presented by Mr Potter. But I will say for myself, if you fail to justify yourself, I will do my utmost to ensure that you never appear on German territory again.

- It seems that the Chairman has decided to use your trial as an excuse to humiliate Dumbledore and avenge his past support for the Grindewald case," Jean-Claude leaned against my shoulder.

- Could I have a word with Mr Potter in the meantime? - Dumbledore, pulling himself together, looked at the chairman.

- 'I'm sorry, Mr Dumbledore, but that's not possible. The procedure forbids contact between the accused and the victim. - The Headmaster glared angrily, and I thought he was obviously going to ignore the prohibitions and find me as quickly as possible before the next day.

- I think we can leave now," James stood up and pulled the others with him. - We have nothing to do here until tomorrow.

As we left the courtroom, we moved to the edge of the blocking charms and activated the portkey, each one leading to a different location. Jean-Claude had gone to the south of France to the resort where his wife had gone two days earlier - the large number of wizards there was capable of throwing off even the most sensitive devices that tracked the trace of a wizard's apparatus and aura. Sirius, looking incredibly pleased, returned to his family mansion, planning to turn it into an impregnable fortress in anticipation of a possible visit from Albus. Before he left, he said he planned to invite Alastor and two of his other allies to visit in case Dumbledore tried to make any claims against him.

- In any case," Black laughed hoarsely. - He has nothing to charge me with, he has no proof that I organised it. And he realises that I wouldn't have had the time or energy to gather the necessary information to set such a trap.

James, who had decided to stay in Berlin, disappeared into the twilight of some square on the edge of which we were standing.

Ciaran and I were the last to leave, and we found ourselves in Paris, whence Ciaran was at once transported to his ancestral home, and I, with the last remaining portkey, to the Delacourt mansion.

When I crept quietly through the already sleeping mansion and hastily washed my face, I came to Fleur's room, it was silent. The locked door obeyed my efforts and gave way, letting me into the darkness of the room without a creak. The tiny light I'd created lit the way just enough to keep me from bumping into furniture on the way to the bedroom.

Sprawled on the bed, Fleur, who'd thrown off the duvet, was... helplessly beautiful. The blonde hair that shrouded the pillow, the serene face, the quiet breathing of a sleeping girl. There were no signal charms near the bed or in the room, so I silently freed myself from most of my clothes and lay down next to my beloved, snuggling against her back and hugging her slender body.

- Harry," Fleur murmured through her sleep, sensing my presence. - You're back.

- Yes, love," I kissed the pink ear. My hand cupped the mound of her breast, hidden only by the thin fabric of her nightgown, and a short time later a tense nipple was resting in my palm, and the girl purred with pleasure.

Fleur's breathing became hoarse as my lips thoughtfully explored the soft skin behind her ear, her shoulders and neck, and she pressed herself tighter against me, her slender hand sliding down my body.

- More," a low, broken whisper escaped her lips as my hand crept lower, stroking the smooth skin of her thigh, covering the most sensitive spot, "That's it, yes!

The proximity of my favourite girl literally drove me crazy, I wanted only one thing more than anything else in the world, and Fleur only made it worse - moving in time with the caressing movements of my fingers, she rubbed her buttocks against me, causing almost uncontrollable desire. Finally, with a quiet shriek, the girl arched her back in a wave of pleasure.

Not letting her calm down, I gently rolled Fleur over onto her back, spreading her slender legs.

- Harry, what do you want-- Ahhhh," Fleur gasped as my tongue gently touched the smooth-smooth skin, already wet and quivering. The girl's hands pulled my head closer, ruffling my hair, and she arched up again, moaning something.

Waiting until Fleur purred under my caresses and cried out one last time, clawing at the sheets with her fingers, I lay down beside her, cuddling against her heated body. Instead of falling asleep like last time, however, the girl decided to do something different. The next second I was on my shoulder blades, and Fleur was on top of me, smiling at me.

- I told you I was going to get my revenge," she said, running her tongue promisingly over her bitten lips and leaning over me, tickling my belly with her hair.

15 January 1996. Weasley Manor.

"Albus Dumbledore has broken the terms of the Potters' will!

Yesterday the International Tribunal heard Harold Potter's charges against Albus Dumbledore, head of the Wizengamot for violating the terms of the Potters' will, misappropriating his guardianship rights, and withholding information about Mr Potter's inheritance and rights.

A two-day Tribunal hearing, at which Mr Potter presented many unquestionable proofs of his words, resulted in Albus Dumbledore being stripped of his status as Mr Potter's guardian. Lord Sirius Black, the young man's godfather, has been appointed as Harold Potter's guardian for the remainder of his adulthood.

It is worth noting that, as Mr Potter is the only surviving member of the family, his majority, thanks to an exception in the laws of succession to the title of head of the family, will come six months later, at the age of sixteen, after which he will be able to assume the title of Lord Potter and receive his vote in the Wizengamot, which is currently run by his godfather and guardian Sirius Black.

Unconfirmed, but heard at the Tribunal, were the accusations that Dumbledore had deliberately neglected the health and welfare of a child placed in his care and the use of the potions of Friendship, Affection and Charms, which he accused the family of a ministerial official close to Dumbledore of using.

We will endeavour to bring our readers more details of the charges in future issues of our newspaper, and can report in advance that the facts now unfolding before us show the utterly unbelievable cynicism and cruelty of a well-known man in England.

Rita Skeeter, special correspondent."

Arthur Weasley tossed the paper aside. His veins were showing in his sharply darkened face, so furious was he. Molly, bewildered, turned to the head of the family.

- Molly, what are they talking about in that bloody article?! - Arthur bled more and more with every word.

- What are you talking about, Arthur?

- About the ministerial family close to Dumbledore and spell potions?

Mrs Weasley glanced uneasily at her husband, who had been a lifelong dreamy, work-obsessed, research-obsessed tosser who had suddenly taken on a hardness of character that was uncharacteristic of him.

- How can I know that?

- WHERE? - Arthur roared like a wounded grizzly, jumping up from his seat. - BECAUSE HARRY HAD NO CONTACT WITH THE OTHER FAMILIES! He only came on holiday to our house, you idiot!

Abruptly calm, Arthur rested his hands on the oak table, hovering over the woman.

- What else don't I know about Harry's relationship with all of you? It turns out that while I was spending twenty-four hours a day at the Ministry to provide a little for my family, you were dosing the man who saved Ginny from death with potions?

- Arthur, that's a lie," Molly blushed with indignation. - I don't know who encouraged the boy to tell such a brazen lie about us!

- If, after Harry returns to England, I find out that he was right, you'll have to answer for your words. I care what they say about our family. And I remember what he did for all of us.

The man left the room, slamming the door so hard that pieces of plaster fell from the ceiling and the door hung pitifully on one hinge.

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