Chapter Text
“I have an idea,” James said as he lounged around in the solarium with everyone else. It was two days before they had to return to school, and all the kids were feeling a little stressed at what might happen when they returned. Severus didn’t stay but for the day before Yule and Yule itself. He told everyone he wanted to be in England in case Dumbledore decided to call on him for something, so he returned to Privet Drive and continued to work on a potion for the Longbottoms. The rare ingredients he’d received from James, along with some potions manuals written by the famed biopotioneer Sérgio Baptista e Silva over four hundred years ago, gave him some inspiration as to which direction to go. Those historical texts were on loan to him from the Museu da Descoberta Mágica, graciously procured for him by James’ and Draco’s potions professor, Silvestre Acosta. The Brazilian's only request was that he be included in the paper Snape would write up for the journals when he finally perfected the elixir.
Severus was working on a medicine that could treat all sorts of mental disabilities. From curse damage to obliviates gone wrong, he wished to try and help those who were languishing in the spell damage wards at the various hospitals worldwide. He intended to test his finished formula on the Longbottoms and a young man by the name of Donnie Barksdale, whose father had tried to remove the boy’s memories of witnessing the older Barksdale having an affair. Unfortunately, the teen’s father wasn’t terribly skilled with the more delicate magics, and his heavy hand had hidden everything the boy had learned from infancy in a compartment of his mind, unreachable by the Healers.
“So, what’s your idea?” Blaise asked lazily, a contented smile on his face. He’d never felt this much peace and safety in his life, and he was loath to let it go just yet, which meant he wasn’t looking forward to returning to Hogwarts in a couple of days.
“I was thinking that somebody ought to relieve Dumbledore of the heavy responsibility he took on in ‘volunteering’ to protect the stone,” the emerald eyed preteen said with a sly smile. “Seems to me that hiding it in the castle is a bit negligent of him. Anyone could come along and take the item, and he’d never know about it until it was far too late. I think it should be placed in safer hands. Don’t you?”
“That’s...that’s brilliant,” Neville hissed, laughing uproariously. “If there’s no stone, then there’s no need for a savior.”
“While it might make him hesitate at first, it won’t stop him from trying to manufacture a savior out of you, Neville,” Theo felt the need to point out. “I do think, however, that if we took the stone and sent an anonymous letter to the Flamels, that could get the old man in trouble for a bit, and keep him from trying to interfere with your schooling.”
“I think Blaise, Theo and I should be the ones to steal it,” Dean agreed with a malicious smile. “I’m tired of seeing Weasel and the beaver bullying you in the common room, Nev, and if we include the fact that the old man got those two involved in ‘protecting’ the stone, the Flamels could possibly approach the DMLE about it; especially if we helpfully provide pictures of that damned cerberus.”
“The only problem is getting in and out without being seen,” Draco murmured, grey eyes distant. “If only we had something you could use to sneak around…”
“Merlin, I almost forgot!” Neville yelped as he dug frantically in his robe pockets for something. He soon pulled out a cape that shimmered in the light, and every eye was on it. “Dumbledore gave this to me a few weeks into the term. The note said that it was an invisibility cloak and a gift from James Potter, and that I should use it to explore the castle. I just tucked it into my trunk under a bunch of protective charms, and forgot all about it until just before I came here. I saw Weasley eyeing it enviously once or twice, and thought he might try and ‘borrow’ it without permission.” He handed it to James, who stared at the cloak with wide eyes. “Here. This belongs to you.”
“That’s not a typical invisibility cloak,” Daphne pointed out softly. “It’s in too good of a condition to be a standard cloak, and since it belonged to your father, then it’s classified as an heirloom. I remember the Tale of the Three Brothers, and how the Peverells had received ‘gifts’ from Death, this cloak being one of them. Whilst it is a fairytale, it has some basis in fact.
“If I remember my genealogical history right, the Peverells were magical experimenters and researchers who invented very powerful artifacts. Ignotus was the creator of that cloak, Cadmus the inventor of the resurrection stone and Antioch the one who developed an unbeatable wand. Since that cloak was obviously in your family for generations, your ancestor was Ignotus. You have a tangible piece of magical history, and a distant connection to Salazar Slytherin, since he’d married into the Peverell family through Cadmus.”
“That connection is only through marriage, not genetics,” James felt the need to qualify. “It doesn’t mean that I’m related to Moldyshorts.”
“Actually, you are,” Blaise corrected gently. "You’re a distant cousin-in-law, which gives you a vague right to the Slytherin wealth. What gives you a stronger claim, though, is the fact that you’d beaten him back as a baby. Through right of conquest, you are now heir to the Slytherin dynasty.”
“My mother did something to protect me and defeat the monster,” Dursley insisted heatedly. “She’s the one who won his heritage by right of conquest.”
“And she died, James,” Draco reminded the brunet gently, “sacrificing herself so that you could live. As her direct heir, you’ve earned the right to be called a Founder’s heir.”
“We’ve gotten off-topic,” Theo reminded everyone as he looked at his friends. “We were discussing stealing the stone and making Dumbledore uncomfortable for a while. How are we going to do that?”
“Well, I think you lot should keep the cloak and use it to sneak around and gather information,” James said as he handed it back to Neville. “Don’t keep it in the same dorm all the time. Trade it back and forth amongst everyone who’s looking for sanctuary, so that Weasley can’t get his filthy paws on it, and neither can Dumbledore. My birth father had written in his diaries about a map he and his psychotic friends had created, that shows Hogwarts and everyone in it. He’d mentioned that it had been confiscated by a man named Argus Filch in their last year of Hogwarts. See if you can figure out where it is, and if you do, I have the information on how to open and close it. It would be an invaluable tool to use for your stealth missions.”
“Something else that’s a part of your legacy, that has been kept from you,” Justin Finch-Fletchley complained angrily. “How much has the headmaster been hiding, and what do we need to get it all?”
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January 3, 1992
James Evan Dursley
Castelobruxo Wizarding School
Ancient Mayan Ruins
Amazon Rain Forest
Manaus, BZ 69500-000
Mr. Dursley,
We have finished auditing the vaults that you own, including those of Salazar Slytherin. Though his previous heir, Tom Marvolo Riddle, had removed some of the monies and heirlooms from the vaults, after his defeat in 1981 those monies and books were automatically returned to the repositories from whence they came, in preparation for the next heir to the Founder’s dynasty. We’ve had Albus Dumbledore in here several times over the intervening years since you were adopted, trying to get into the Potter vaults, which have since been absorbed into the Dursley accounts, as have the Wizengamot seats. Nothing seems to be missing from any of the safes, and your properties seem to be intact, as well.
Because of your relationship to other magical families, you are the possessor of several seats in the Wizengamot, and currently, Albus Dumbledore has had control of those seats. We would like to know if you would like to assign a proxy, who will communicate with you to find out which way you would like to vote in regards to new legislation. Of course, we’ll make sure that you’re kept up to date about what’s being voted on so that you can make an informed decision. Please let us know how we may help you with this at your earliest convenience.
Sincerely,
Ragnok Dragonbane
Director, Gringotts UK
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January 5, 1992
Ragnok Dragonbane
Gringotts UK
Number 100 Metallurgik Alley
London WC2H 0HG, UK
Director Dragonbane,
Thank you for keeping our son apprised of the issues involving his inheritances, and we greatly appreciate your time and attention to this very important matter. We’ve discussed everything with James, and with very little input from Petunia and I, he has made his decision. He trusts you and your bank implicitly when dealing with his financial matters, and he’s still incredibly grateful to you and yours for removing that blight from his soul. He’s not met many adult witches and wizards in the United Kingdom, but those he has had some sort of interaction with didn’t impress him overmuch.
He would like to name Grelfinger Bloodletter as his proxy in the Wizengamot. Yes, we understand that non-humans and part-human hybrids don’t have a voice in the legislative body, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t trust that anyone else would take his own opinions, thoughts and ideas into consideration, but that you and yours would. We, as his parents, fully support his decision, and would like for you to send us a contract so that we may make this legal and enforceable. After everything you’ve done for us and our family, we would be honored to include you as friends.
Sincerely,
Vernon Dursley
Petunia Dursley
James Evan Dursley
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“The eight hundred thirty-fourth meeting of the Wizengamot will now come to order,” Albus intoned solemnly in his role as the Chief Warlock. “Do we have any new members?” A goblin stood from a seat at the back of the jurists and bowed shallowly.
“My name is Grelfinger Bloodletter, and I am serving as Proxy for one of our clients. I now have control of the Potter, Peverell, Gaunt and Gamp seats through direct inheritance, and the Beaufort, Gage, Leroy, Perrot and Tripe seats through bequeathal.” He sat back down, smirking slightly at the enraged look he’d received from the old man.
“You can’t be a proxy in the Wizengamot,” Justin Rosier barked angrily. “You’re a creature, and have no rights here.”
“That is incorrect,” Augusta spoke up with a mean little smile to Albus. “In point of fact, the Wizengamot charter had included representatives from the sentient creature species, since they would be affected by whatever laws were passed by this august body. That the purebloods slowly phased their participation out through underhanded means makes it no less legal to have creatures on the board.”
“I must object,” Dumbledore finally said, having gotten over his shock. “I believe that I am in charge of the Potter and Peverell seats, considering that I am the last remaining heir’s magical guardian. Now, if the Aurors would come forward and take this goblin out of here…”
“You will not take one single step toward goblin Bloodletter,” Bones barked before her men could even move. “Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore’s claims of being Harry Potter’s magical guardian are fraudulent, and if he insists on taking this tack, I will have no choice but to arrest him for the attempted extortion on an ancient and noble house.” She turned and looked at the Chief Warlock, eyebrows lifting slowly on her forehead and a slight smirk on her face at his obvious discomfort.
“How do we know that the goblin is telling the truth?” Lucius Malfoy drawled laconically. He didn’t really care overmuch that someone else was claiming legal agency over the Potter seats; he just didn’t want a non-human thing on the Wizengamot. The creature belonged beneath the wizards, and he was still smarting at the horrific way he was treated the last time he was in Gringotts.
“The magic of the chamber has judged goblin Bloodletter a legal agent of the seats he has claimed,” Cornelius Fudge finally said as he pointed at the green lights beside the names on the board, ending the argument for good. “We cannot circumvent the Lady’s decision, so let’s move on to the first order of business. Before this legislative body is the request to repeal Educational Decree 234: The Mandatory Attendance to Hogwarts of All Magical Children in Great Britain, which restricts the parents’ rights to decide to which school they may send their children.”
“We cannot repeal that decree,” Dumbledore shouted angrily. “It is to ensure that all British magicals must attend Hogwarts for their magical education, so that we may ensure that they’re getting a complete experience.”
“Because of that stupid decree, we’ve lost dozens of families to other countries and other schools,” Griselda Marchbanks barked. She was the Governor of the Wizarding Examinations Authority, and she’d seen far too many students leave over the last several months before taking their OWLs and NEWTs. “We’ve made it impossible for English magical citizens to be comfortable enough to send their children to Hogwarts by forcing their hand. We’ve overstepped our bounds by taking the parental authority and right over their children away from them. This legislative body was never meant to micromanage our citizens like this, and I, for one, find it extremely offensive that we’re allowing others to make our choices for us.”
“We must keep that decree in place,” Dumbledore insisted heatedly. “Because we didn’t get it in place quickly enough, we’ve lost the Savior of the wizarding world to another school, where he could be learning all manner of Dark, ugly, cruel magics. We must work harder to enforce this law so that Harry Potter will be in Hogwarts next year, and where we will be able to undo the damage that may have already been done to his magic and his morality.”
“The seats I hold in proxy will be voting to overturn that draconian law,” Grelfinger announced into the stunned silence. “Anyone else?”