Minerva and Filius sat contemplatively for several moments after Sirius had left, both trying to assimilate the information he had given them and trying to come to grips with what it meant and what his last sentences had revealed to them. Eventually McGonagall spoke, breaking the silence. "I never thought I'd see the day when I'd sit here and voluntarily chose to be part of one of Sirius Black's schemes."
The Charms Professor chuckled lightly, "It certainly wasn't something I'd ever have expected when he graduated." They shared a smile as they remembered the havoc those three boys had managed to get up to, as irritating as it was at the time, neither of them could deny that the boys had been good students and the pranks and schemes they managed to pull were often based off extraordinary magic.
"He grew up though," Minerva commented quietly, "Azkaban and the war changed him. I didn't notice it at first but the longer you know him the more you realise he has changed although others haven't noticed it I don't think." She sighed quietly, "He hides it well but he's always guarded, and there's always something hidden away in his eyes and I'd wager that only Harry and Remus have seen him with those guards down."
Flitwick nodded, even as his eyes strayed to the closed door. "He's been hurt one time to many," he agreed, "To ever really trust many properly again," The silence lengthened before Flitwick spoke once more, "But regardless of why he proposed this and why we are both in it, shouldn't we perhaps be thinking of how we intend to have this school ready to change Headmaster the instant Dumbledore is removed?" He suggested. Minerva agreed instantly, shaking off her musings about her old student as she turned her full attention onto her colleague.
"The problem is getting round the interim Headmaster problem," she said, "Normal procedure was that the Deputy Head would take the mantle until the board comes to a decision makes an appointment but I think that is precisely the danger period we all want to avoid because it is in that period that it would be easy for the Ministry or for some of the ex-Death Eaters to buy their way into Hogwarts or to influence the process unduly which is something I think we all want to avoid." She sighed, "But the Governors have so much power I am not sure of the best way to undercut that authority."
Filius tapped his long fingers against the chair arm thoughtfully. "I think our best bet is to make sure we have a successor lined up and then to go and pour over the Hogwarts Charter. After all the Board of Governors is relatively modern, I think they were put in place 471 years ago now so the Charter should give us a good idea of the policies that were previously used to choose Headmasters and there might even be bylaws that can be used to ensure the Ministry do not get a say in the appointment."
Discover moreWriter communityApp download campaignsAnimeCreative writing coursesMobile app developmentMcGonagall nodded, "That certainly seems a good idea, after all we do have several months to get ready, so perhaps you could deal with the research on that angle and I'll try to generate some more support from the other professors," her expression darkened briefly, "The last thing we need is a divided Hogwarts and when it comes to it, if the school is not ready we will fall."
There was a quiet certainty in her voice and both professors eyes darkened as they remembered the last days of the war. The school had become a battleground with lines drawn on house lines with hostilities frequently erupting. The school had begun to split and it was into this toxic mix that Voldemort had led a raid. It was not a full attack, Dumbledore had still been the Headmaster and he feared the old man but he had chosen a time when the Headmaster had not been in the grounds.
It had caught them by surprise and the school almost fell when the majority of the Slytherins had turned their wands on the rest of them. It had only been luck that had prevented his victory that night, and they had paid a high price for the defence. When the smoke had cleared they found the bodies of 27 muggleborn students who had been taken and killed by the death eaters, and another 14 had lost their lives in the defence.
That had been the last time the school had been divided and it had cost them so so much and neither of them were willing to let it go that far again. Of course the circumstances were different this time, they weren't in the middle of a war for one thing but neither professor had any illusions of what would happen if someone like Malfoy managed to get control of the school, or all those who thought that muggleborns were inferior and should not be taught. This was not a battle that would claim lived but both of them would be damned if they saw the school fall into the hands of the pureblood movement.
Discover moreBooks & LiteratureAnime & MangaFictionPress integrationApp store marketingFan fiction booksWith a sigh Flitwick stood, "I'll go and check the charter then Minerva. A meeting in a few days perhaps would be a good idea, to discuss the options and any discoveries?" McGonagall nodded immediately as the small figure of the charms professor left the room before reluctantly turning her attention to the pile of essays she had to mark.
Harry trudged reluctantly down the stairs towards the dungeons. Snape had given him a detention that morning after Malfoy had come over and started taunting him, normally that wouldn't have been a problem but curses had been shot and one of them had hit Hermione, causing her teeth to grow at an accelerated rate. He'd lost his temper and fired a hex back, it hadn't hit anyone of course but Snape had seen and as usual Harry found himself with a detention whereas Malfoy got off scot free despite the fact his actions had put Hermione in the Hospital Wing.
He had given up on thinking that Snape would ever be fair a long time ago but still he had to admit that the injustice of it all rankled and even though the man had got a little better, for some odd reason was not being as much of a snarky git that he had been in earlier years, it didn't change the fact that he was immensely unfair and favoured the Slytherins something awful.
Reluctantly he pushed the classroom door open, wondering what sort of disgusting task the man had thought up for him this time. He wasn't so bothered when it came to cleaning cauldrons or something like that – he had cleaned more disgusting items back at the Dursleys - but he had to admit that he disliked disembowelling some of the creatures that he was forced to work with, particularly if he had to do the task without gloves on.
He got through the door and almost stopped in shock when he saw that instead of the much hated Potions Professor, there was the figure of Albus Dumbledore sitting serenely at the desk as if he belonged there. Instantly the warnings and promises he had made to his father flashed through his mind but he didn't know what to do. He'd promised Sirius that if he was told to go to Dumbledore's office he was to refuse until Sirius could be found but this was a detention, albeit an unfair one and he couldn't refuse to go, especially now he was here and neither could he refuse to do anything until his father could be found, not that he thought Dumbledore would let him leave the room and go and fetch his father anyway.
"Sir...?" He managed to stutter questioningly, even as he froze in place in the doorway, undecided to whether he should run now and take the extra detentions that action was give him.
"Come in Harry," Dumbledore said warmly, even as the door behind him was nudged shut with a tendril of magic. The man was almost radiating a kind grandfather personality and Harry knew that he might have fallen for it if it hadn't been for the fact that his father had told him precisely what Dumbledore had been planning for him and he knew with certainty that he would never trust the man for a long time, if indeed he ever did.
Even though the door had shut behind him, cutting off that escape route Harry still stayed close to the door, ready to run if it became necessary, he didn't think he'd manage it but at least if he was by the door he stood a chance of escaping whereas if he went deeper he knew that it would be much easier for Dumbledore to restrain him magically before he could even make it that far.
Dumbledore however didn't seem to notice Harry's wariness or if he did he ignored it, "I daresay you are surprised to see me here," he continued as if Harry wasn't sticking close to the door and regarding him as if he could curse him at any second "And I know you were supposed to be having a detention with Professor Snape, apparently you were supposed to be disembowelling horned toads." Harry couldn't help the grimace that flashed across his features and he heard the Headmaster chuckle, "But," he said as he flicked his wand and a barrel of horned toads suddenly became disembowelled, "My need of you was greater this evening."
Discover moreFiction writing guidesMobile user analyticsMobile app subscriptionCrossover storiesAuthor resourcesHarry felt trapped, he had waited too long. He should have run the moment he saw Dumbledore here instead of Snape, obviously waiting for him but it was too late now. He was in the room, the door was shut, and probably being kept that way by magic. He gritted his teeth. There was nothing else he could do, he would endure the detention and he would go to his father the instant it finished and he would tell him everything.
"Sit down Harry," Dumbledore said kindly as he gestured to a chair in front of Snape's desk. Apprehensively Harry came forward, he perched on the edge of the chair and scouted it as far away from Dumbledore as possible, he wasn't going to make this easy and he was determined not to let Dumbledore get the better of him without a fight. With that thought in mind he kept his wand loosely in his palm, ready to be used in a moments notice.
Dumbledore surveyed the teen before him with a critical eye. The child seemed very jumpy tonight, almost as if he was afraid of him and internally he frowned, this did not bode well for his chances of trying to teach and mentor the teen, something that was essential if he was to guide the child down the correct path to defeating Tom. He wondered how much of his conversations with Black had been relayed to the child; it was the only explanation that made sense of the sudden change in behaviour. Harry had always been willing to trust him before and it was disturbing to see how that had changed.
He pondered about asking the boy before he discarded the idea, along with the idea of probing his mind using legilimency, Snape had reported that he had learnt Occlumency and he had no doubt that if he probed the child's mind the fact would be reported to Sirius very quickly and he didn't want the man's ire directed in his direction soon. Neither would it be practical to ask the child what Black had told him, firstly he doubted he'd get a truthful answer, and certainly not an answer that would give him any useful information, not to mention he didn't want this whole conversation to be relayed to Black which he knew it would be if he started probing too far.
Pushing those thought aside, he smiled at the boy in a grandfatherly way, he wished he had been able to wait for this conversation, wished he could wait until he started training the child but now he knew that the horcrux had been removed he knew that Harry would actually have to fight and beat Tom, and in order to do that he would have to be trained and trained well. But in order for the child to be able to defeat Tom first of all he needed to understand his history, to understand why and how Voldemort was the way he is, and he also needed, although it went against his inner wisdom, to know about the prophecy. Not the exact wording of course, but the general idea that there was a prophecy and that it foretold that Harry would be the only one with the ability to defeat Tom.
"Now I've no doubt you are wondering why I saw fit to commandeer your detention," he said kindly and he saw Harry nod jerkily, "My dear boy," he continued and he saw Harry stiffen. So Black had definately told him some of it, and judging from the reaction had told him about his plan, "You asked me in your first year why Voldemort or Tom Riddle had chosen to target you, and I refused to tell you, thinking you were too young to bear such a burden," He saw Harry's eyes widen and the teen sat up straighter.
Harry couldn't believe it, was Dumbledore finally going to explain why his parents had been murdered, he had wondered but after the refusal in his first year he had not asked again, thinking that the man would get angry if he brought it up, and the only good opportunity he had had to ask him again had been after he'd killed the basilisk and fought the memory, although now he thought about it, probably a horcrux of Voldemort but he had been too confused and too tired to voice the question then and he had not dared to ask later.
His attention snapped back to the man as Dumbledore continued to speak, "There was a prophecy made that said that you are the only one with the power to defeat Voldemort unfortunately one of his Deatheaters overheard the prophecy and relayed the information to him, and that is why he came after you in the first place, and it is why he still seeks to kill you."
Harry sat in shock, he didn't know what to say or think. All his life there had been a prophecy, there had been a reason that Voldemort had come after him and he had never thought to tell him! This information had led to the death of his parents and Dumbledore had known, known and not told him. Another thought struck him suddenly, Voldemort was after him but Dumbledore had never thought to train him, never thought to warn him or to make sure he had the skills to do it. He couldn't deny that he was afraid, that he was desperately afraid.
He wasn't sure if he'd be able to do this, heck he didn't have a clue how it would be possible for him to defeat the worst Dark Lord in history and if he failed he'd condemn millions to death or torture and not only that he'd fail his friends, his family, his father.
All of a sudden he was desperately angry, Dumbledore had known, known and hadn't thought to train him and because of his oversight the people he loved could get hurt or killed just because an old man had refused to share the information when he had asked for it, refused to prepare him. Another thought struck him then and it was all he could do to stop himself from being physically sick, Dumbledore had been planning for him to sacrifice himself and in doing so he had been willing to let Voldemort win, to let others lose parents, brothers, sisters, friends and to let his family and all those who had ever cared for him die.
Suddenly he became aware he was on his feet and that the ambient magic was flying round him and saturating the room. Desperately he tried to hold it back, to gain control but it was hard. The magic had become strong through his anger and it whipped through the air trying to wreak vengeance on the man who had upset and angered its master. Harry clenched his hands into fists and he bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood in his mouth. The magic fought him, it wanted to respond, to act with his anger and not to stay within his control and his father wasn't there, wasn't there to take some of the magic himself, wasn't there to help him control it but Harry knew he had to.
He didn't know how he knew but he knew that if the magic escaped his grasp Dumbledore would not walk from this room unscathed if he even survived. Just thinking of the man made the magic act up but grimly he held on, almost pulling it back by sheer strength of will alone. No matter the anger he felt at Dumbledore he was not a murderer and he would not be responsible for the man's death.
Slowly the magic responded, gradually quieting as he brought it under his control. Eventually the magic lay docile in his grasp although he didn't let his guard down for even one second until he had released all the magic harmlessly back into the surroundings and it was only then that he risked glancing at the figure of the Headmaster.
Dumbledore sat shaking from the force of the magic that had responded to the young teen sitting in front of him. He had felt the ambient magic before of course, and he had thought he knew what it felt like, even in its raw form which he had to say frightened him but what he had just felt was beyond that. On the day of the second task the magic had not been confined and it had not been drawn straight from such a potent source as Hogwarts.
But here, in an enclosed space with the magic been drawn straight from the heart of the castle he had had no chance. What spell, what shield could stop magic that was everywhere, in everything and as he had felt the magic grow he had feared for his life for perhaps the first time in nearly fifty years. He didn't think he had been more relieved when he had felt the power begin to fade when he realised that while Harry had nowhere near the control over the magic as Black did he still had enough control to prevent it from destroying. He was still shaking and he couldn't bring himself to say or do anything when the child grabbed his bag and fled from the dungeons.
Harry was nearly up by the Great Hall by the time he stopped running. Finding a small alcove he sank down in it, placing his head in his hands as he panted for breath, the headlong flight from the dungeons and the fight to control the magic had left him breathless but it was only now, as the adrenaline wore off that the full impact of everything that had happened there hit him.
The prophecy, nearly losing control of the ambient magic, almost killing or at least seriously wounding the headmaster. Fear bubbled up in his gut, strong and thick, he didn't know how he could cope, he didn't want it to be his responsibility, yes he wanted Voldemort to die and he wanted to be the one to kill him but still the thought that he had to, that somewhere, somehow it was his destiny to do so and he didn't have a choice hurt. Everything in his life had been planned out and everyone seemed to have something they wanted from him and he was sick of it, sick of it and scared. It may have been childish but he wanted to be normal, to have a year at Hogwarts where he didn't have to save the school, where he didn't have to be the saviour once again but he thought bitterly, he'd never had that choice. He had to be the one to defeat Voldemort and he didn't think he could do it.
Eventually he pulled himself back to his feet and he made his way through mercifully empty corridors to Sirius's quarters. He murmured the password and was relieved when it sprang open instantly. Sirius glanced up from the essays he was marking, he knew Harry had been given a detention with Snape so he hadn't expected him to come to his quarters this early, if he came back to his quarters at all. But one look at his son's white face and he was on his feet and hurrying to the teen's side before he had even registered he was moving.
"Harry?" he questioned urgently, even as his eyes were scanning the child's body for any sign of an injury or wound. Finding none he sighed in relief, even as he reached out to draw the child into an embrace, "What's happened pup?" He asked softly, relieved that whatever had happened had not caused any sort of injury, but rather from the looks of things had only given him a bad scare.
He could feel Harry relaxing slowly in his arms and he gently guided the teen over to the sofa, sinking down onto it with Harry still held securely in his arms as he tucked the boy into his side. Still the child said nothing and he repeated his question although this time there was a slight sternness in his voice that let Harry know that he wanted some answers soon.
Harry leant into the welcome embrace as some of his panic started to ebb away. It was easy to remember now that no matter what that damned prophecy said that his father would be here to support him and help him through everything. Unlike what he had thought in some of the moments of his nearly blind panic he was not alone but he realised that if his father was going to be in a position to help him, he would have to know everything that had happened in his detention.
He sucked in a deep breath, wondering where to start before he released he'd have to tell the whole story, starting from when he arrived in the dungeons for the start of his detention. "Professor Dumbledore was overseeing my detention," he started but he didn't get any further before he felt his father stiffen and he heard Sirius hiss,
"What?"
Harry hurried on quickly, worried now about his father's reaction, "I got to the dungeons and found Dumbledore there instead of Snape, I was going to come and get you but he'd already seen me and I couldn't refuse the detention, I'd just get more and Dumbledore would be able to oversee those too. I'm really sorry but I didn't think there was anything else I could do." He was babbling, and he realised this but he was nervous and he didn't know what to say. He'd never really been in this sort of situation before, he'd broken his promise to his father but he hadn't meant to and there really hadn't been any other option. He knew Sirius had discussed with him what punishments would be like and he trusted his father completely but it didn't change the facts that he'd disobeyed him and that he'd never been in this sort of situation before.
He felt his father's hand on his shoulder as Sirius squeezed it lightly and instantly the rush of words that was pouring out of him stopped. He glanced up at his father's face and he saw the anger there but Sirius's hand rubbed his back gently, reassuring him that the anger was not directed at him. "It wasn't your fault Harry," he said quietly although Harry could hear the rage which simmered beneath the surface "And while I'd have preferred to be there I agree that you didn't have any option but to attend."
He paused before he added in a venomous tone Harry had only heard him use once before, "I am through with giving chances to that meddling old fool, if he dares to come near you again, regardless of whether it's allowed by the vow it will be the last thing he does."
Harry felt alarm grow within him. "Please don't do anything rash Dad," he pleaded, he was all too aware of what had happened the last time Sirius's anger had got the best of him, it had cost his father twelve years in Azkaban and while he did not blame his father even for an instant, it was the fault of those who had refused to try him, the thought of losing his father filled him with dread.
He felt Sirius tug him closer, tucking him protectively against his side, "I won't do anything risky," he told him softly, "I've got far too much to lose and I'd never do anything that would endanger or hurt you pup. But I will take Dumbldore down and ensure he never comes near you again but I will do everything legally. You are my son and I won't stand by while he endangers you with his schemes." He vowed fiercely and Harry burrowed deeper into his father's side, warmed by the declaration.
But even as he soaked up the comfort he knew that he still needed to tell his father about what Dumbledore had told him during the detention. Sucking in a deep breath he related the tale of the prophecy and what it revealed, and even though his mind was fixed on his story he felt his father stiffen. And then his voice dropping until it was barely above a whisper he told Sirius about how he'd realised that the ambient magic was pouring out of him and how he'd struggled to control it before he fled. Once the story was out of him he slumped against his father but strangely enough he felt better for it, as if the panic had receded slightly leaving his head a little clearer.
He felt Sirius's arm tighten round his shoulders, "Firstly," his father said fiercely, "I am extremely proud that you managed to bring the ambient magic back under your control under those circumstances and when you have only had two lessons on controlling it. You did extremely well and I am immensely proud of you." Harry felt a blush head his cheeks, and he ducked his head but he couldn't deny that he was warmed and pleased by his father's words.
Seeing that had sunk in Sirius continued, "And as for the prophecy, and the fact that 'you are the only one who is able to defeat Voldemort'," he paused and Harry could clearly hear the sarcasm that was all but dripping from the animagus's voice, "That is a complete load of rubbish." There was a slight hesitation over the word rubbish and he couldn't shake the feeling that his father had deliberately censored what he intended to say, even as Harry mentally replaced the word with perhaps a more suitable expletive. "Diviniation is a woolly discipline at best and while there are prophecies that come true they are often more self fulfilling than not."
He heard his father sigh before he continued speaking, "I don't deny that there is a good chance you will be the one to kill him because no matter what I do to protect you, if Voldemort thinks you are the only one who can kill him, he'll come after you and that will just increase your chances of being able to kill him but I don't want you to give a damn about the prophecy. You may be the one to kill him but you will not face him alone and I will make damn sure that you are trained and more than capable to do so, so that if you face him you will have the tools to protect yourself and kill him." The fire in his father's eyes was unmistakable and Harry felt a weight of relief settle in his chest. He hadn't realised how much he had needed or wanted the reassurance until felt it flow through him, lifting the burden that had fallen on his when he had learnt about the prophecy.
"Thanks Dad," he murmured softly and in response he felt Sirius reach down and press a kiss onto his forehead. They stayed there for a few more moments before Sirius stood, pulling Harry up after him and propelling him with a gentle shove towards the table, "Get some of your homework done pup," he instructed quietly, "It's still nearly an hour to curfew and I'm guessing you will be staying here tonight?" Harry just nodded before reaching into his bag for his charms books even as he was vaguely aware of his father returning to the pile of essays he had to mark.
The rest of the hour passed in a companionable silence, with the only noise being the scratching of quills across parchment and the occasional query Harry would throw at his father which Sirius was all too happy to help with and by the time it came for Harry to go to bed he had been sufficiently distracted and reassured about the prophecy that Dumbledore had dropped on him a few hours previously.
Sirius watched his son head to bed, trying desperately to prevent his emotions leaking onto his face and only once he was sure that his son was asleep did he cast a one way silencing charm on the teen's bedroom door before letting the anger and fear that had filled him when he learned what Dumbledore had told his child burst out of him. Instantly the ambient magic sprang up, whipping around his body in a hurricane of magic. He directed it was practised ease, letting all his rage bleed into the magic and only when he was sure he was able to control his temper did he let the magic go.
Wearily he slumped down in his chair, his mind racing with everything he'd learnt. Firstly he'd learnt that Dumbledore had found a way around the vow, a way that involved the concession he had been forced to make concerning 'Headmaster duties' as he needed to be able to interact with Harry in his role as the Headmaster if the situation had called for it but those cases were few and far between. He had to admit that he had forgotten that a Headmaster if they had any particular concerns could choose to oversee a student's detention and after today it was obvious that Dumbledore intended to use that to get access to Harry.
A frown crossed his features, he was not intending to let him get away with that, but the problem came with ensuring that he didn't oversee Harry's detentions if he got another one. His brow furrowed as he considered it, before part of the solution came to him. He knew that the majority of Harry's detentions came from Snape and he could easily cut down the number of detentions by ordering the man to only give Harry detention if the detention would be viewed as fair by the rest of the staff. That step would ensure that the number of detentions Harry got would decrease substantially, and for the time being a quick word to Minerva and Filius should help to keep those classes and teachers relatively problem free, although there had never been any huge issues with either of their classes.
He let out the breath he'd been holding. It was all well and good to restrict Dumbledore's access to Harry but the news of a prophecy had him worried. It was not that he believed in divination, well that wasn't strictly accurate, he knew enough about magic to know that prophecies were valid and usually came true in one way or another, but that divination was such a woolly art that although the magic was real and tangible, the prophecies themselves were much more vague and that would be what posed the problem.
He couldn't make a decision or come to a firm conclusion until he'd heard the prophecy but he suspected that it wouldn't matter what it actually said, if both Voldemort and Dumbledore believed it to be valid the battlefield had almost been drawn before Harry had even stepped onto it. Voldemort would come after his child to try to defeat a threat, and because he viewed Harry as a danger he wouldn't stop until Harry was dead or until he was killed, and the way he pursued him only made it more likely that it would be Harry.
But it was not only the news of the threat to his son that would not go away until Voldemort was vanquished, the news that he needed to fight a battle on two fronts to keep him safe, the made the anger bubble fiercely in his gut. it was also the realisation that Dumbledore had known and he had done nothing to prepare his son. He was well aware that there had been no training, no lessons, nothing to teach his child how he could stand up against Voldemort, because even if Harry didn't have to kill him, he was in danger and the man had never thought that he might need extra defence lessons!
And then with a biting coldness the significance of Dumbledore's earlier admission flew through him. The man had known Harry was a horcrux and known about the prophecy. He had been setting Harry up, either to die at Voldemort's hand after nearly defeating him so the man could become mortal and be killed by another, or he had been setting Harry up to banish Voldemort to spirit form once the horcruxes had been collected and then to kill him, thus destroying the last horcrux to banish his spirit forever.
Sirius felt sick at the thought, and at the knowledge that Dumbledore sincerely believed that this was the best option, that it would have to happen to save the wizarding world and that if he had not come into Harry's life when he had, that his child would be following this path, would be being led to his death without anyone to stand up for him. He pulled in a deep breath, trying desperately to calm his raging emotions. As much as he wanted to, he could not go and kill or seriously maim Dumbledore for daring to plan to harm his child. He had promised Harry he was not going to act rashly again, and the twelve years in Azkaban had taught him the value of patience and shown him what his impatience and desire for revenge could cost him.
Intellectually he knew that now Dumbledore knew that Harry was no longer a horcrux he was not training him to sacrifice himself, but he was still manipulating the situation, making his child think it was his responsibility and his responsibility alone to kill Voldemort and in his mind that was still a great crime. Harry was only just beginning to trust adults again and Dumbledore was threatening that, not to mention he was trying to make a child do an adult's job. He had had nearly thirteen years to try and defeat Voldemort, to prepare for when he came back but he had sat aside and waited for his son to come and sort everything out for him.
It disgusted him. Harry may have seen and experienced more than any other child but he was still a child and it was not for the child to do the adult's job.
Reluctantly he stood and made his way to his room. He would speak again to Minerva and Filius to see if they could speed things up because he was beginning to understand how Dumbledore worked. The man became fixed on a plan and he firmly believed that it would be the only way to achieve his goal and he would then stop at nothing to accomplish that plan. And there would be no way to stop him until he was removed.
McGonagall was pacing, "You are sure of this?" she demanded for what must have been the tenth time and the Head of Ravenclaw nodded wearily,
"I'm completely sure Minerva," he answered, "Before the Board of Governers was created the Headmaster was selected by a vote of the remaining founder's heirs. The present Board of Governors was created when the lines appeared to die out and the only way that they can be overruled or a Headmaster can be elected without their consent is if that Headmaster is selected by the agreement of the remaining founder's heirs." The Head of Gryffindor heaved a sigh before turning to the diminutive professor.
"So to sum it up," she said irritably, "The only way we can ensure we get a decent Headmaster who has not been affected by the current politics and scheming of the school governors and the ministry is if we manage to get a founder's heir to appoint a Headmaster."
Flitwick inclined his head in agreement.
"And the only known lines died out five hundred years ago?"
Flitwick nodded once more.
"Damn."
The Charm's Master paused for a moment after that statement before speaking again, "Just because the last known heirs died out does not mean there aren't any," he said eventually. "Seeing as the lines were wiped out as the power and prestige was coveted and they were viewed as a threat, it is not beyond the realms of possibility that side branches or lesser known links just kept quiet and survived. In that political climate it would have been the sensible thing to do."
"But that doesn't help us now," McGonagall pointed out a tad waspishly, "I agree that it is definitely possible that there may still be heir somewhere but we have no means of finding them and that is assuming that the family involved even knows that they are the heirs and that knowledge has not been lost throughout the centuries! Not to mention even if by some miracle we manage to find a family, we probably need the direct heir and if the line of succession has become muddled as it almost certainly would have that would be difficult at best and impossible at worst to sort out!"
Flitwick sighed, "I know Minerva but it is the only loophole there is."
She regarded him for one long moment before she sank down into her chair, "I've asked Sirius to come over for a meeting, he needs to know at least that there isn't a way to remove Dumbledore without the Ministry getting involved," she held up a hand when the Head of Ravenclaw made to speak, "I know there's the loophole, but we'd need a bloody miracle to pull that one off." Flitwick grimaced but he couldn't deny that she was right.
With impeccable timing Sirius knocked on the door and entered, "You wanted to see me Minerva, Filius." The Head of Gryffindor nodded wearily,
"Yes Sirius, we've looked through the Charter but the only way of overruling the Governors is if the Headmaster is appointed by a founder's heir so we have no useful options that will get us a Headmaster without them or the Ministry becoming involved."
Sirius looked between the two Heads, "So you need a founder's heir, does it matter what age they are or only if they are the Heir?" The two professors exchanged a puzzled glance at this frankly odd angle of questioning before Flitwick spoke, "Age is only an impediment if the Heir in question is not old enough to attend Hogwarts, but why are you asking this?"
"I was making sure that one of the heirs is eligible to select a Headmaster." It took a moment for that to sink in but when it did Sirius was taken aback by their reactions.
"You know of an heir?" McGonagall all but demanded even as Flitwick dropped his quill in shock. Not quite understanding why they were reacting quite so strongly he nodded, "If you are being technical I actually know of two, Gryffindor and Slytherin and I know they will do anything to help get rid of Dumbledore, provided it is legal."
McGonagall couldn't help but stare. "You do realise Sirius that the last known lines died out nearly five hundred years ago." He couldn't help but raise his eyebrows as he absorbed that information but certain things began to make sense now, he had not known that the Potters had the Gryffindor Lordship – the fact they now had Slytherin too was a different matter, and the usual practice would have been to take the older and more prestigious surname or at least combine them but knowing this showed him why the Potter's had not announced their Lordship and on that vein,
"Can they appoint a Headmaster without revealing their identity?" He asked quietly and he saw the Head of Ravenclaw's eyes narrow as the man put the pieces together.
"It would be highly unusual," he replied, "But I believe there have been precedents where a Headmaster has been appointed but the identity of the Heir has remained confindential, usually when one of the heirs in question was a student at the time and they didn't want their identity being leaked to the student body." His sharp eyes surveyed Sirius for a few more moments before he spoke again, "It's Harry isn't it." Minerva turned to her colleague, an incredulous expression growing on her face but Flitwick kept his eyes fixed on Sirius, he wasn't the Head of Ravenclaw for nothing and he had quickly put together the man's hints.
Sirius merely inclined his head, "I believe that sorts out that issue," he remarked calmly, "As long as you give me warning, and enough time to make sure Harry does what he needs to in regards to paperwork etc, that ought to run smoothly." He flashed a grin in their direction, "Now I believe you only need to select who you want as Headmaster, or even Headmistress," he said with a nod in the direction of his old Head of House. The elder woman raised a single eyebrow at him, although you could tell her eyes were dancing, "And here I thought I'd seen you boys mature," she sighed but there was no malice in the words.
Sirius chuckled lightly before taking his leave, relieved that the practical aspects of appointing a Headmaster would be simple enough to accomplish. For a moment when he had entered the room he had worried that it would be impossible but his son had proved to be the vital link, and he would ensure that Harry remained safe in his school, and that even though he was an heir his child would not be targeted for it.
Harry couldn't help but stare at the Quiddich pitch in complete and utter shock. The Quiddich fanatic the dwelt inside virtually every wizard was screaming at the sight of the devastation wrought over the pitch and the sacrilege it represented. But the more logical and rational part of his brain was fixed on what he'd just been told, there was going to be a maze, and a race to the centre. It seemed almost too easy, too simple. Where were the challenges, where was the excitement and danger because one thing he had learnt since he had joined the wizarding world was that wizards liked entertainment, and entertainment that was often violent and dangerous.
He didn't try to delude himself that the tournament was anything but entertainment. All that stuff about eternal glory and the prize money was ridiculous, many of the older wizarding families would put a minimum of 1000 galleons in a child's yearly trust fund, and as for eternal glory, he knew that nobody could remember any of the previous winners. It made him angry, he was risking his life, well all four of them were and what was the purpose, entertainment. A phrase he'd heard in muggle school drifted back to him as Bagman finished going over the arrangements for the final task, "Hail Caesar, we who are about to die salute you." And that was what they were doing, oh it may have been dressed up in fancy words but that was the essence of it.
Bagman finished his briefing and Harry cast one more look at the snaking rows of hedges that were growing over the Quidditch pitch before pulling his cloak tighter around him to ward off the wind before heading back to the castle to practice some more spells, particularly ones that would be useful for subduing whatever dangerous beasts managed to find their way into the maze and to speak with his father to tell him about what he'd be facing.