Sirius paced nervously in the reception room. There was a lot riding on the outcome of the meetings he was about to hold. If things didn't work out as he and Remus hoped…
They would deal with it, Sirius thought briskly. There was always the Obliviate spell.
He heard the approaching cheery voice of Penelope and move hastily smoothed his formal robes as she and Remus entered.
Penelope smiled at him brightly. "Very smart, Lord Black."
"How many times do I have to tell you; it's Sirius." He complained at her good-naturedly.
"Not during working hours." Penelope reprimanded him as she brushed imaginary lint from his shoulders. "You have an image to convey."
Remus smirked at him and handed him a black canvas bag. "Here's the pensieve and the memories." He patted his arm. "You'll be fine, Padfoot. It's only Fudge."
"Right," Sirius said, "and whose idea was that it that I should be the one to tell him and not Brian as we originally agreed?"
"Brian's." Penelope and Remus chorused together.
Sirius glared at the two of them.
"Look, I think Brian's right; Fudge will probably take the news of you being Lord Black better if you tell him yourself." Remus said. "According to Brian, he's all agog at the request of a one-to-one meeting with you on the subject of Lord Black ahead of the Lord Black meet-and-greet session later this afternoon with Directors Bones and Croaker here at the Manor. You'll be fine."
"If I get thrown back into Azkaban, I'm blaming you." Sirius stated dryly.
Penelope cleared her throat. "You should get going, Lord Black. You don't want to be late; the Minister is expecting you."
Sirius turned to Remus and opened his mouth…
"Yes, I'll go back to Griffin House and check on Harry later. I'm sure he and Minerva are getting along fine though." Remus ushered him towards the floo.
Sirius harrumphed, took a deep breath and tossed some power into the fire. "Minister's Office!"
He stepped out into Fudge's private domain and straightened immediately, staring at the two Aurors flanking the Minister with suspicion.
Fudge immediately got a clue about Sirius's discomfort and gestured back at the Aurors. "Oh, they're here just a precaution in case someone else stepped out."
Sirius moderated his tone to something vaguely diplomatic. "If the Aurors would like to check me for glamours or polyjuice they're certainly welcome to do so, Minister."
Fudge waved the Aurors forward. "Shacklebolt! Dawlish!"
"Apologies, Mister Black." Shacklebolt said formally. "We won't be more than a moment." He lifted his wand and did an intricate gesture to start the identification spell that Sirius knew well; it was mandatory Auror training – as was Dawlish's position. He'd stayed back to cover Shacklebolt.
Dawlish he knew from his Auror days; a miserable git who Sirius had half-suspected of being a Death Eater. Shacklebolt…Shacklebolt…
"Kingsley Shacklebolt?" Sirius asked. "I seem to remember you were at the academy after I completed my Hit Wizard training."
"That's right, Mister Black." Kingsley smiled at him politely. "You held most of the records we were trying to beat." He turned to the Minister. "He is Sirius Black, Minister."
"May we ask what's in the bag?" Dawlish asked roughly before his partner could ask for them to be dismissed.
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "A present for the Minister for his sterling effort to uphold justice."
Fudge broke into another pleased smile and almost clapped his hands together in delight. He made a wavy hand gesture at the Aurors. "Please leave us, gentlemen."
The Aurors left – Dawlish with obvious reluctance.
"Sirius! May I call you Sirius? You must call me Cornelius." Fudge charged forward as soon as the office door closed behind the Aurors and held out his pudgy hand. "Welcome to the Ministry."
Sirius shook hands. "Sirius is fine, Minister." He requested permission to raise a privacy bubble and Fudge – Cornelius smiled ruefully.
"Brian does the same thing." Cornelius said amused as he indicated for Sirius to go ahead. "This is the safest office in Britain!"
"I'm afraid I attended the Alastor Moody School of Constant Vigilance, Minister." Sirius said. He waved his great-grandfather's wand around and nodded happily when the privacy spell took and the office was secured.
"You've probably guessed the reason for this meeting already, Cornelius, so I won't keep you in suspense," Sirius began as he placed the canvas bag on the Minister's desk, "Brian said he suspected you'd worked it out when he mentioned how quickly I was able to respond to the query about custody when he had initially written to Lord Black."
"Well, I…" Cornelius looked fairly bemused as he took his seat.
"Obviously you realised then that I was and, indeed, am Lord Black." Sirius announced briskly, ignoring blithely the different shades of red that Cornelius was turning. He mentally took away the concealment spell on his ring and waggled it at the Minister. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate your discretion in keeping my secret to date and supporting my guardianship of Harry. I am in your debt." He pulled out the brand new pensieve from the bag and set it down in front of Cornelius. "I hope you accept this as a small token of my thanks and appreciation."
Cornelius's eyes dropped to the magical artefact and gasped.
"It's top of the line; newest model." Sirius stated as he took a seat. "As you know many countries have provided pensieves for their Ministers for years and it's criminal that the Wizengamot hasn't authorised budget for you to have one yet."
"Criminal, yes." Cornelius touched it reverently. "I can't tell you how envious the American Ambassador is going to be the next time he comes round. This is much better than the one in his office." He sat back suddenly and gazed at Sirius.
This was the pivotal moment, Sirius mused. Cornelius knew that Sirius probably knew that Cornelius hadn't guessed at all but Cornelius had two choices; to throw his toys out of the pram or to graciously allow them both to pretend that he had guessed, save face and continue to develop a relationship with Lord Black. Sirius also knew that Cornelius had to be considering the fact that not only was Sirius Lord Black but he was also the Potter Regent – his eyes had already skated over the crests on his robes twice.
Cornelius cleared his throat. "I have to confess that while I did suspect as Brian surmised, I didn't actually know for certain that you were Lord Black, uh, Lord Black."
"I thought we agreed it was Sirius." Sirius said smoothly. He was surprised at Cornelius's admission but it was a good ploy – a half-truth but not an all-out lie; something that allowed Cornelius to save face, but acknowledged the truth at the same time.
Cornelius smiled widely at him. "Sirius it is."
"My new assistant calls me Lord Black and I keep looking for my grandfather." Sirius joked, trying to remember all the lessons at political glad-handing that his father and mother had literally beaten into him.
"I remember when my parents found a tutor for me before Hogwarts and Professor Lichen called me Mister Fudge for the first time. I thought he was referring to my father and wouldn't answer him." Cornelius replied with good humour. "I received a fair few raps on the knuckles for that."
"Harry finds being Lord Potter quite strange but then nobody has ever told him about his House responsibilities until this Summer."
"Oh?" Cornelius frowned. "I mean, I'm not surprised at the muggles because what would they know about it but surely Albus…"
Sirius shook his head. "I'm afraid not." He didn't have to pretend the heavy grimace that he made. "Harry has been left entirely too uninformed about his place in our world, not just the Boy Who Lived nonsense, but the House of Potter, his family, his heritage…" he sighed, "I've been told that his teachers were made to promise not to tell him about his mother and father."
"That is terrible." Cornelius commiserated. "I've had concerns about how Albus has been handling things at Hogwarts for a number of years now, but his hold on the school is absolute."
"Speaking of concerns," Sirius said, turning the conversation to what he was really there for, "I did have an ulterior motive for getting you the pensieve." He reached back into the canvas bag and extracted three vials filled with silvery fluid. "With your permission, I'd like to show you some copies of Harry's memories from his time at Hogwarts. I'm not certain how much you know already – how much information Albus has shared – but I believe it's important for you to see them. However, I must have an oath that you will keep this information confidential."
Cornelius nodded slowly. "I'm intrigued so I'll agree." He picked up his wand. "I, Cornelius Ambrose Fudge, swear to the House of Black to keep the contents of this meeting confidential." There was a flash of light from the tip of his wand and Sirius was satisfied.
He motioned for Sirius to fill the pensieve and they dived into the basin. The memory begun with Harry and his friends approaching the Cerberus and went from there.
"What is this exactly?" Cornelius asked a tad impatiently. "Some kind of student obstacle course for their first year DADA exam? I can understand your concern; the dog is a bit much."
"I'm afraid it's nothing as benign as an obstacle course," Sirius replied, "this is a set of traps created by the Hogwarts Professors to protect Flamel's Philosopher's stone, or at least that's what they're supposed to be protecting. Somebody has already gotten past them and Harry and his friends are trying to stop the potential thief." He pointed Cornelius back at the action.
They watched silently for the most part although Cornelius muttered a 'oh good show' as Harry caught the key. As Harry faced Quirrell and Voldemort, Cornelius paled considerably (Sirius had thrown up so the Minister was actually doing better than he had done at that stage). He was shaking by the time Sirius led him out of the memory – just after Harry's discussion with Dumbledore in the infirmary (Sirius had been livid when he'd seen it for the first time – Remus had stuck him to a chair until he'd cooled down enough to agree that trying to find Dumbledore in Thailand to hex him was a bad idea).
"Firewhiskey?" prompted Sirius gently.
Cornelius pointed at a cabinet and Sirius retrieved the alcohol and poured him a generous amount. He resumed his seat and waited for Cornelius to speak.
"I assume there's no hoping that the memory has been tampered with or that this isn't an elaborate fantasy of young Harry's?" Cornelius said eventually, his hands wrapped tightly around his whiskey glass.
"It's my intention to show the memory to Amelia Bones and Wilbert Croaker later. I'm sure they can both vouch for the authenticity." Sirius said firmly. "I'm certain it can be independently verified for that matter if necessary."
"No, no, just…" Cornelius took a gulp of his drink and slumped back in his chair, "I can't believe that You-Know-Who is still out there! He was supposed to be dead! How could Albus not tell anyone?"
"In part to protect the wizarding world, I suspect." Sirius replied. "From what I've heard, the days following the downfall of Voldemort back in 'eighty-one were chaotic with some Death Eaters walking free because of lack of evidence. Had they known for certain their leader was still around, I assume they would have continued their reign of terror and helped him find a body. I can appreciate why Albus may have kept it quiet back then."
Cornelius sighed as he absorbed the truth of Sirius's words.
"And it's also probable that Albus didn't know for certain." Sirius said. "My steward and I are convinced that Albus constructed the entire thing with the stone as a trap to prove Voldemort was alive using both the stone and Harry as bait."
"Well, he should have told me then!" Cornelius stated angrily.
Sirius gazed back at him calmly. "Perhaps he would have, Cornelius, but your closest advisor since Harry returned to the wizarding world has been Lucius Malfoy."
"What's Lucius got to do with it?" Cornelius asked evidently honestly bewildered.
"Lucius is one of those Death Eaters who walked free." Sirius replied. He held up a hand when Cornelius went to argue. "I've investigated the matter thoroughly, Cornelius. He's married to my cousin and tomorrow will be subjected to our family magic. As you can imagine I wanted to be very sure of my facts."
Cornelius's eyes widened dramatically. "Yes, I can imagine. But I still can't believe Lucius would…I mean, I know about the Imperius, of course, but he assured me that he simply agreed with You-Know-Who's wider political agenda and the whole thing got blown out of all proportion."
"I will agree that he was under the Imperius the day he got caught in the Ministry; Moody was the one who diagnosed him so I have some confidence in that." Sirius stated. "I'll even accept that there was no additional physical evidence of wrongdoing apart from the Dark Mark he had. His wand was clean at the time. However, I can unequivocally say as someone who went undercover with Death Eaters that you can't get the Dark Mark if you're under the Imperius; you have to be a willing recipient. There's also an initiation – a murder of an innocent. Now perhaps Lucius only performed such an act at his initiation and beyond that his political influence and position at the Ministry were more of a benefit to Voldemort than having Lucius out raising terror. But the main point holds: Lucius was a Death Eater."
Cornelius downed his glass of Firewhiskey and poured himself another.
"Now, I doubt he knows for certain that Voldemort is back but I think he must have his suspicions. His political advice and agenda are in line with Voldemort's; he's sponsored and voted for laws and motions that would benefit Voldemort if he returned. The DMLE and DOM budgets have been massively reduced; certain members of our population such as werewolves and other magical races have been disenfranchised and would probably not give us aid now. Would Lucius rejoin him if Voldemort gained a body? I don't know." Sirius said. "His answer will certainly determine his fate tomorrow."
"I should have him arrested!" Cornelius said passionately. "All this time and he's been using me!"
"Lucius is a consummate politician, Cornelius. Whether he's trying to get power to assist Voldemort in usurping the government or simply trying to get power for himself as part of the existing government, of course he was going to befriend the most powerful man in the Ministry and work to become his chief confidante and advisor; to get his own agenda pushed before all others and convince you of its merits." Sirius pointed out briskly. "But, legally, he's done nothing wrong: nothing is provable about his Death Eater activities. I suggest you leave him to me to deal with and simply disassociate yourself. Nobody will be surprised that you distance yourself since it's well known among WIzengamot members that the House of Black holds primacy over the House of Malfoy."
Cornelius breathed in deeply and nodded. "You're right, of course. I will leave it in your capable hands, and distance myself from the man."
"I would also suggest if I may that you should also consider distancing yourself from those who rely and seek out his advice or agree fervently with his agenda." Sirius advised. "Your Senior Undersecretary seems to be a capable woman but perhaps it's time to reward that with an ambassadorship to a South American country?"
For a moment Sirius thought Cornelius was going to defend her but he finally sighed regretfully. "She is wonderfully capable but you're quite right." He smiled benignly. "Perhaps it is time for her to move on."
Sirius picked up the second vial. "Talking of moving on, are you ready for the next memory?"
He wasn't surprised when Cornelius downed his drink again before allowing Sirius to take him back into the pensieve. Harry's encounter with the shade of Tom Riddle and the basilisk was horrifying (Sirius had wanted to close his eyes the entire time he'd watched it) but informative.
Luckily Cornelius wasn't as pale and shaky when he came out but rather determined looking. Perhaps, Sirius considered wryly, learning Voldemort was still out there and Lucius had conned him was the worst news; everything else was manageable.
"Tell me that the diary was the only thing that could bring him back like that." Cornelius said harshly.
"I can't." Sirius said. He and Remus had agreed that the word 'horcrux' would never be shared although Croaker would probably know even if he wasn't explicitly told. "My brother Regulus was a Death Eater but he came to realise Voldemort didn't have any respect for purebloods and so turned on him and sent me a letter telling me all about these objects. Unfortunately I only received his letter once I became Lord Black. There are other objects like the diary. We'll need to work together to track the others down and destroy them."
"Of course." Cornelius agreed.
"Our theory is that these objects may have helped Voldemort escape death in 'eighty-one, if we get rid of these…" Sirius sighed. "We can trap him again and get rid of him for good. However there is an immediate concern." He led Cornelius back into the third memory – Trelawney's prediction of Pettigrew helping Voldemort to rise again.
"Well, this certainly adds some urgency to the matter." Cornelius said anxiously as soon as they left the pensieve. He shakily poured himself another glass of Firewhiskey. "We're just not prepared! I thought he was dead! How was I to know and…"
"Cornelius!" Sirius barked at the Minister. "Pull yourself together! Of course, you couldn't know! The public isn't going to blame you for acting like a peacetime Minister for the last few years when they believed the same thing. But they will judge you on what you do now!"
Cornelius made an effort and calmed down.
"Believe me when I say that this is my top priority." Sirius said firmly. "Voldemort has an unhealthy fascination with Harry. I will do everything in my power to make sure Harry is safe from that monster. As of now you have the considerable influence and wealth of the House of Black and the House of Potter backing the Ministry, Cornelius, in ensuring we rid ourselves of Voldemort for good."
He wasn't surprised when Cornelius brightened considerably.
"Obviously we need to bring Amelia Bones and Wilbert Croaker into this." Sirius said. "But I'd like us to present a joint plan to them. I've outlined one with my steward with your permission I'll take you through it now."
Cornelius nodded absently. "What about Albus? Do you see a role for him?"
Sirius grimaced and sank back in his chair. "My first inclination was to try and do it without him. He led the Light the last time and we almost lost. It was only because Voldemort was trounced by the Potters somehow that we gained a victory." He had no intention of telling Cornelius exactly how much power Harry had or about the spell Lily had used. He sighed. "He's also kept information secret and while I agree with some of his reasons, I disagree with some of his decisions. By all reports, you two were close when you first took office. He could have shared his suspicions about Voldemort to you then – warned you about Lucius. There are also decisions about Harry that I have issues with."
"But," prompted Cornelius, "I'm assuming there is a but?"
"But as my steward has pointed out to me, Albus is a powerful and knowledgeable wizard. If we can utilise him we should." Sirius said. "As my steward has always been the more sensible and level headed of the two of us, I value his opinion."
"For what it's worth, I agree with your steward." Cornelius said. "Like you I'm not happy Albus hasn't shared information of vital importance, but he is the only wizard that could face Voldemort and expect to survive the fight – perhaps with the exception of young Harry who obviously has survived a number of encounters." He paused. "With that last thought and everything else you've said in mind, I agree Albus shouldn't be the banner under which we fight this time."
Sirius caught the gleam in Cornelius's eye. "I appreciate that people will fight under the banner of the Boy Who Lived, however, I don't want Harry exploited in the press. It will only serve to focus Voldemort's attention on him even more and that's unacceptable to me." He paused. "Behind the scenes, I have no issues with Harry's status as the Boy Who Lived being used to persuade the reluctant into the political alliances we'll need."
"Perhaps then we focus on ensuring what press there is continues to be positive?" Cornelius suggested. "The press are likely to print stories about Harry regardless especially since, well, I really shouldn't say anything but I'm sure you won't tell – the Tri-Wizard Tournament is being revived and will be held at Hogwarts this year. Harry won't be old enough to participate but the press will be allowed access to Hogwarts for the first time since he began his time there and, well…you can see the attraction for the journalists."
Sirius thought the whole tournament thing sounded like a very bad idea but he doubted it was something he could change. Cornelius was also right; the press would go after Harry regardless of whether Sirius tried to keep them away or not. It was better to try and control their public image than allow a free for all. "Some press then but everything is approved by me through Brian as we did this last week."
"Agreed." Cornelius smiled at him. "It's marvellous how well we work together. Shall we cover the rest of the plan?"
Sirius bit down on his snarky retort and pulled out a parchment from the bag. He didn't need to like Cornelius to work with him, Sirius reminded himself, and it was time to get to work.
o-O-o
It was weird seeing one of his Professors during the summer, Harry mused ruefully as he showed Professor McGonagall down to the basement.
It was shielded so the rest of the muggle house could function as normal. Harry didn't really understand it but knew electricity didn't work well around magic and that the basement and the kitchen were the only rooms in the house that were magic-proofed – the basement so they had a practice room and the kitchen because it was Dobby's domain. Apparently, Dobby switched the electricity off room by room when he cleaned the house.
Harry had questioned why Remus and Sirius had bought a muggle house and it had come down to two things: one, making Harry comfortable and they knew he was more familiar with a muggle home and two, because living in a muggle area helped keep Harry safe as wizards often found navigating the muggle world difficult.
The fact that they had muggle technology was great. They'd had a movie night with Star Wars and Harry had shocked Remus and Sirius by inviting Dobby too. The house elf had been glued to the entire film his thin arms wrapped around a bowl of popcorn. Additionally, after a few days of living with Sirius and Remus – Marauders – he was also very appreciative that they had to keep the magic to a minimum. They both had quite an evil sense of humour and Harry was certain that at some point he'd be a target.
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, recapturing his attention. She had set her carpet bag on the side table and was apparently waiting on him.
He flushed. "Sorry, Professor."
To his surprise she smiled at him. "Outside of school, you may call me Aunt Minerva like your father did, if I may call you Harry. What do you think?"
Harry was stunned and settled for nodding his head. He gestured at her and forced the words out of his mouth. "My Dad called you Aunt Minerva?"
"Yes," Professor McGonagall said briskly as she began to unload the bag with small objects that Harry recognised from their Transfiguration lessons, "although when James got older and cheekier he called me Aunt Minnie. I was good friends with your Grandmother Potter – we were at school together."
"Remus said you might tell me some stories?" Harry asked hopefully.
She paused and turned to him with an apologetic look. "I owe you an apology, Harry. I should have approached you before now and offered to tell you about your family. I have no excuse."
"That's OK," Harry said awkwardly, "Remus explained there's a line you have to stick to as a professor where relationships with students are concerned."
She nodded sharply. "I also owe you a second apology for allowing the Headmaster to leave you with the Dursleys against my better judgement."
Harry was speechless again. He'd never expected her to apologise for that. "Professor…I mean, Aunt Minerva, it's fine, really. Sirius explained why the Headmaster left me there and I understand. I mean, I was mad about it but…" he shrugged. He just wanted to forget he had ever lived with the Dursleys.
Her gaze rested on him for a long moment. "Well, Sirius and Remus seem to be taking very good care of you."
Harry smiled at her. "They're brilliant."
Her lips twitched visibly. "Well, shall we do some Transfiguration first? Then we can go over the scholarship details. And we can end with afternoon tea and some stories about your mother and father."
"OK." Harry agreed happily.
"Now, Sirius has explained to me that you had a binding and that you've been working with constrained powers for the last three years. He said that you've worked hard at the healing clinic after the binding was lifted to bring your magic back under control but you still require practice." She handed him a matchstick. "When you're ready, Harry."
He released his wand from its holster and set the matchstick on the table. A wave of a wand later and it was a perfect needle.
"Excellent." Professor McGonagall stated brightly. "If we were in school I would be awarding you points. Let's continue."
They worked for over an hour moving from the first year syllabus to the second and then to the third. The one-to-one tuition helped Harry relax around her more as she helped correct his wand movements to make the transfiguration easier or explained something about the theory that he hadn't understood. Slowly, he started to get used to calling her Aunt Minerva, but it was still a conscious exercise and he figured it would be sometime before he called her anything but Professor McGonagall in his head.
She stopped him after he had successfully completed the exam again.
"We should leave it there for today." Professor McGonagall said sternly. "How do you feel?"
"A little tired." Harry admitted.
"Most wizards your age would be exhausted, Harry." She assured him, beginning to pack everything away. "Clearly your power levels are as impressive as Sirius told me. I rather thought he was playing a prank on me." She shook her head. "You were quite a powerful baby come to think of it." She smiled at him. "You should consider becoming an animagus; I seem to recall you have a natural gift for it."
"I do?" Harry asked, surprised.
"Yes," Professor McGonagall said dryly, "you turned yourself into a miniature version of Sirius's form when you were three or four months old. Your father flooed me almost immediately. I'm not sure if he was more disturbed by the fact that you'd changed into a puppy rather than a young stag, or changed at all. I think it was the reason why he placed a binding on you."
Harry's mouth fell open and he snapped it closed again. "You knew? You knew that Sirius was an animagus? And my Dad?"
"And Mister Pettigrew, yes." Professor McGonagall nodded. "The summer after your father's third year I was visiting Dorea, your grandmother, when your father managed to transfigure his hand into a hoof. He couldn't undo it. I came across him luckily and reversed it. I also worked out quite quickly that he and his friends had taken an Unbreakable Vow not to tell anyone what they were doing – which was very foolish." She must have caught Harry's confusion because she paused in her packing up. "Has anyone explained Vows to you?"
"Are they the same as oaths?" Harry asked.
"Very different. Oaths are only enforceable if sworn to family magic, but Vows are a promise to magic itself. If someone asks you to take an Unbreakable Vow and you agree, if you fail to keep the Vow, you will lose your magic and quite possibly die from the shock." Professor McGonagall said.
Harry frowned. "Why would anyone take one?"
"To prove themselves worthy or because they owe a debt of some kind or because they're not in a position where they can refuse." Professor McGonagall answered. "In the case of your father and his friends, I suspect it had more to do with helping another friend keep a secret. I suspected that they'd realised Remus was a werewolf and that an animagus could spend time with him on a full moon without threat of being turned into a werewolf themselves."
"And you didn't stop them?" Harry asked, curious. He handed her a tea-cup and she changed it back into a rock.
"I might have inadvertently forced them into breaking the Vow if I'd confronted them directly so, no." Professor McGonagall confirmed. "I did, however, tell your father that he could come to me for any advice or help on any transfiguration problem without fear of reprisal which he did over the next year or so. And when they all successfully completed the animagus transformation and joined Remus on the full moons, I would keep watch in my cat form to ensure if they ran into difficulties I was nearby to assist." She stopped and looked over at him gaping at her. "You're no doubt shocked I didn't take points and award them detention."
"Well, you did take all those points from us when we were first years and you caught us out after curfew." Harry pointed out.
"I'd already taken points from Slytherin's Mister Malfoy for the same reason." She pointed out. "It would have been favouritism not to take points from each of you just because you were in my House."
"I guess," sighed Harry, although he knew Snape in her position would have simply let his House members go with a detention.
"And while I realised after speaking with Hagrid that your rule-breaking was done in the same spirit of friendship that motivated your father's full moon affairs, at the time I thought you were playing a prank on Mister Malfoy." Professor McGonagall admitted with chagrin. "Which is also why I ignored your warning about the stone, I'm afraid. To some extent I was as guilty as others in seeing your father in you rather than you for yourself back then."
"You mean like Snape, I mean, Professor Snape?" Harry asked as she closed up the bag and motioned for them to go back up the stairs.
"And others." Professor McGonagall said firmly.
Their conversation paused while they focused on the steps and Harry went over her admission in his head with a frown. As soon as they were seated at the table in the sunroom and provided with refreshments by Dobby he blurted out his question.
"How come you didn't realise the Weasleys' pet rat was Peter if you knew he was animagus?"
Her eyebrows shot upwards. "The thought never occurred to me." She admitted ruefully.
"Not even when the rat lived for years and years?" Harry questioned, inching forward in his seat to lean on the table.
"I assumed the Weasleys were doing what most parents do when a short-lived animal is a pet." Professor McGonagall said.
Harry looked at her bemused.
"Buy a similar looking animal and pass it off as the same creature." She explained with a small smile. "I got a pet fish called Bubbles when I was five. I loved watching Bubbles swim around in her fish-bowl. My mother told me later in life that there were actually twenty different Bubbles until I was the one who found her dead one morning rather than my parents."
"Oh." Harry suddenly remembered the goldfish Dudley had won one year at the town fair. It had died rather quickly and his Aunt Petunia had replaced it with an identical looking goldfish. Obviously Dudley had gotten bored soon after and when that one had died, it hadn't been replaced.
"I'm not sure I would have recognised Mister Pettigrew even close-up," Professor McGonagall continued, "I watched from a considerable distance during the full moons as canines and felines don't mix too well in my experience."
Harry stifled a chuckle at the thought of Sirius and Remus chasing their former teacher in her cat form.
"And truthfully I thought Mister Pettigrew was dead. The idea that a rat could be him didn't enter my mind." Professor McGonagall said. "Just as it didn't enter my mind that Sirius could use his animagus form to escape from Azkaban as he told me this morning. I believed that the presence of the Dementors would have made transforming impossible."
"Is that why you didn't tell the Headmaster that Sirius could be getting into Hogwarts as Padfoot?" Harry asked, curious.
Her eyes widened. "I assumed the Headmaster knew. He did find your father and Sirius outside the Willow one full moon in their sixth year in an altercation with Severus."
Harry shook his head. "Sirius told me they were all in their human forms when the Headmaster showed up."
Professor McGonagall looked disconcerted. "Well, I'm still certain he knows." She took a sip of her pumpkin juice. "Shall we discuss the scholarship?"
Harry nodded and she reached into her bag and pulled out a folder filled with parchment.
"Now firstly how much do you know about how Hogwarts assigns places to muggleborns?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"Not much." Harry said truthfully. Hermione probably knew; it was probably in Hogwarts: A History. "Actually, I'm not sure how Hogwarts assigns places generally."
"Well, it's a long story," Professor McGonagall enthused, "originally, the Founders made Hogwarts open to all. It was the first school of its kind. Unfortunately as you know there was a falling out over whether muggleborns would be welcome or not. Eventually, it was accepted that all magical children would be welcome and the Founders simply asked for donations from the families – as much as they could afford, if anything."
She picked up a chocolate digestive, dunked it in her tea, and ate it quickly before it disintegrated.
"Then our population grew and Hogwarts began to struggle financially despite the donations because of the sheer numbers." She cleared her throat. "Eventually, in order to keep the Ministry from assuming control and to retain independence, the Headmaster at the time made standard tuition fees mandatory with scholarships available for a small number of places. The Ministry had to settle for setting up an alternative school for those unable to afford Hogwarts. This all took place in the last century."
"So, there's a State school? Like a muggle comprehensive?" Harry asked, wondering why no-one had ever mentioned it before.
"There are seven now," Professor McGonagall said with a small smile, "Belfast, London, Birmingham, Cardiff, Manchester, Durham, and Edinburgh." She listed quickly. "Most have an average year intake of around sixty to eighty pupils although the Irish and Welsh schools are much, much smaller. They don't board but students either floo or portkey in on a daily basis. They're quite good although they have to follow a Ministry approved syllabus. Some of our teaching staff came to us having previously worked at one. Professor Babbling taught at the Edinburgh Academy before she came to Hogwarts, and both Professor Flitwick and Professor Vector taught at King's Magic School in London." She paused and continued. "And obviously, home schooling is still chosen by many wizarding families."
"So why didn't I end up at one of the State schools?" Harry asked.
She smiled at him again. "We have wandered from the point, haven't we? But luckily your question brings it back into focus once more. Generally, we have no upper limit of how many children we can take. Your class is somewhat small but it was a terrible year in the war when you were born and we lost entire families." She shook herself briskly. "To answer your question, Hogwarts has a list – usually parents apply for their child to be placed upon it when they're born. Your parents did that for you. Your father's parents did that for him. Most members of the Wizengamot will send their children to Hogwarts as will most senior members of the Ministry."
Harry vaguely remembered that Vernon had done the same for Dudley with Smeltings. He nodded slowly in understanding.
"Now, the Founders – Helga Hufflepuff to be exact – enchanted a book that lists all magical births within the United Kingdom. It resides somewhere in Hogwarts but nobody really knows where – not even the Headmaster." Professor McGonagall sipped her tea. "What does happen is that a month before every child's eleventh birthday, a Hogwarts notification is produced and delivered to the Headmaster's desk so he can send a letter of acceptance. These days they automatically get transferred to me."
"But not everybody goes to Hogwarts." Harry said confused.
"Exactly." Professor McGonagall said looking pleased for some reason. "I have a house elf who helps me and she checks to see whether or not the student is on our acceptance list. If they're on the list, the usual letter is sent which she signs in my name. If they're not on the list but have magical parents, the notification is forwarded to the parents so they can arrange their child's education. But it's the latter category that we're most interested in for your mother's scholarship; those without magical parents."
Professor McGonagall paused to refill her cup and Harry snagged a chocolate digestive from the plate, thinking about what she'd said to him so far. In hindsight, it had been stupid to think that his Hogwarts class were all the magical children of his age in the country, Harry thought a little chagrined.
"All muggleborn notifications are set aside for my action." Professor McGonagall said. "All muggleborns are provisionally accepted at Hogwarts subject to whether they can pay the tuition. The Headmaster and the Heads of the Houses are usually the only people authorised to perform visitations although occasionally another member of staff is authorised if no-one else is available. We deliver the letter personally, reassure the parents to the existence of magic and determine their decision. If they cannot afford the fees, we offer them the opportunity to attend a Ministry school and, if they say yes to that, we send the child's name onto the nearest school so they can make the necessary arrangements by mail. They usually send a letter with a portkey and instructions on what supplies the children will need and where to purchase them."
"What if they refuse to attend?" Harry asked.
"Ah, well, there is no such thing as home schooling for muggleborns as they don't know any tutors." Professor McGonagall sighed, her expression turning to one of sadness. "If the parents do not want their child to attend magical school at all, we bind the child's magic and obliviate the family to the nature of the visit. They say goodbye to us believing that we came to discuss their child attending our school but they've decided against it – and that's it. We have to protect the Statute of Secrecy."
Harry nodded in understanding.
"Now there are some Hogwarts scholarships already available," Professor McGonagall said, "one is for orphans and another is to assist families with multiple children."
Harry wondered idly if the Weasleys had received some help from that scholarship before he flushed – reminding himself it wasn't any of his business how his best mate's family afforded Hogwarts. Although the other scholarship might account for how Tom Riddle had been able to attend Hogwarts since he'd grown up in a muggle orphanage without any money, Harry mused.
"What I propose is this: if a muggleborn family cannot afford the tuition and opts to send their child to the Ministry school, we will give them the option of applying for your mother's Hogwarts scholarship." McGonagall glanced at him. "Is this acceptable to you?"
"Yes." Harry said quickly. "You're giving them the option of not applying?"
McGonagall nodded. "Some parents will prefer not to send their children away to school regardless – that's one of the most popular reasons I get from muggles for turning down Hogwarts even when the parents can afford tuition, and others may see it as charity and refuse it." She motioned with her cup. "Those who accept will be told that a decision will be taken on 1st August which is really the latest we can take it. If they receive notification they will have been awarded the scholarship, if they do not they should proceed with the placement at the Ministry school."
"OK, so what about this year?" Harry questioned.
"I have already sent the families that opted for the Ministry school because of financial concerns a letter asking for them to confirm whether they wished to be considered to notify me by simply writing yes on the parchment letter." She looked immensely pleased with herself. "There are fourteen who have said yes. Now what we must do is decide what the criteria will be for choosing the recipient."
The discussion that followed was spirited and Harry was pleased when his new 'aunt' encouraged him to put his own ideas forward. She challenged him on some of the suggestions. He'd argued that they should test for intelligence – his mother had been smart so it made sense to him that the recipient of her scholarship should be smart. Professor McGonagall had wondered how they would test for such a thing and Harry pointed her at the primary school tests.
They'd both agreed any superficial things such as hair colour or eye colour should not be considered but Professor McGonagall had argued quite fiercely for witches to be considered ahead of wizards. Harry had no issues with that once it came down to the final candidates if there was a close decision that had to be made – but he didn't want gender to factor until then; yes, his Mum had been a witch but the scholarship was for all muggleborn children. He'd been gobsmacked when the Professor had backed down and agreed.
They'd finally come up with a points system: families who had greater financial need would get more points; primary school tests with better results gained more points; then there would be the assessment of the Professor at the interview with the family for general attitude – politeness and what Professor McGonagall called 'a good disposition' and what Harry deemed 'not Dudley or Draco-like.' Gender would be used to make the final call if a boy and a girl ended up within one or two points of each other.
Harry dithered over whether to suggest the last thing but in the end he gathered his Gryffindor courage and blurted it out. "What about their…their home situation?"
Professor McGonagall paused in raising the cup to her lips and looked at him sharply. "What do you mean, Harry?"
"I mean…" he took another deep breath, "what if their family is like the Dursleys? I don't mean that they hate magic because I think those types will already have said no to the entire thing probably but…what if you can tell at the interview that they're not…that they maybe don't love…but I guess…" he stumbled over his words, "I mean, I wasn't theirs so they didn't have to love me and…" he stopped mortified.
He stared down at his empty pumpkin juice.
Professor McGonagall reached over hesitantly and put her hand over his. "It wasn't you, Harry. The Dursleys would have treated anyone who didn't comply with their narrow world view the way they treated you – and they were absolutely wrong to do so. They were…they are the worst sort of muggles – of people."
He glanced up at her and wasn't surprised to see her face set in stern lines but her eyes were warm and fierce.
"I can also tell you that it does happen between parents and children too. Sometimes parents don't love their children appropriately or like them very much. In the worst instances, there is neglect and abuse. But there is a large grey area where rather than outright abuse, there is disinterest or, for want of a better term, coldness. These cases are harder to spot but we come across them from time to time." She paused. "I believe you want us to put all these…these disadvantaged children ahead of those with comfortable family situations? To help remove them from the home to at least give them respite?"
"And to give them a home." Harry said awkward under her kind gaze. "Hogwarts is really the first home I can remember."
She nodded slowly as though absorbing his words. "I see no issues with your suggestion. We will award points again – a larger number to those children we feel would benefit from a separation from their home environment." She pressed her lips together. "I have reported cases of evident abuse in the past to the muggle authorities but perhaps I should also report these additional cases too."
Harry nodded, relieved she'd agreed and understood what he'd meant.
"I'll go back through the notes of the interviews for this prior year, Harry. Some of the families with children in these situations may not have responded to my letter so I will pay them a personal visit." She promised.
Harry felt a lot better after hearing that.
"Well, I think we have a very workable set of criteria." Professor McGonagall said. "Is there anything else you want to add?"
He shook his head.
"We should take a break." She declared briskly. "I could do with stretching my legs and I'm sure you could do with some exercise." She motioned towards the outside where the sun was shining. "How about we take a walk outside and I'll tell you about when I gave your mother her Hogwarts letter?"
Harry grinned at her and quickly accepted her offer. "Sounds great," he hesitated and ploughed on, "Aunt Minerva."
She smiled understandingly at him. "And Harry?"
He looked at her inquisitively.
"I swear on my magic that you will never return to the Dursleys." Her eyes flashed with a fierce protectiveness that shocked him. "Do you understand?"
He could only nod at her as he realised she was waiting for some kind of a reply.
"Good." She rose from her seat, stretched in an absent minded way that reminded him of a cat and gestured for him to join her.
He scooted out of his chair.
"Now, your grandmother Marigold was the one who answered the door," she began…and Harry listened intently, eager to hear about his mother and his grandparents; eager to learn about his family.