Serpent's Bloodline: Legacy of the Basilisk

For Amelia Bones it had been days since she had a less strenuous minute. She had searched the ministry high and low for every trace of paper about Sirius Black. What she had found was more concerning then The Quibbler had shown.

There had been no documentation about the imprisonment of Sirius Black at all. The only paper trail she could pick up was the trail that had started days after his imprisonment in Askaban. When you looked solely at the files of Askaban, Sirius Black as suddenly surfaced as he vanished twelve years later.

Amelia Bones could nothing but frown when looking at that.

So she had taken her evidence and had approached the Minister about it - just to be turned down without even being able to utter one word about it.

The next step would have been to talk to the whole Wizengamot - but Amelia dreaded this discussion. The most members of the Wizengamot would not listen to her as soon as she uttered the name 'Sirius Black'. The entire puplic thought him to be a convicted murderer and no member of the Wizengamot would dare to crash his or her public image for a 'might be'.

So there was just one way…

Amelia Bones was sitting in her office, smirking. In her hands she was holding an edition of The Quibbler. Normally she would have dropped dead before being found with the abstruse newspaper in her hands.

But that had changed a few days after Harry Potter's trial, when one of her Aurors had dropped by to show her the article in The Quibbler.

At that time she had been very interested in the critique The Quibbler had printed. Critique about the press and the Ministry was something you could not read everyday. It even had some new information for Amelia herself.

She had not known that the Ministry had the major share in the stocking of the Daily Prophet. To her shame she never had thought once about the connection between the Ministry's opinion and the opinion of the Daily Prophet. For her it had been natural, that Ministry and Prophet said the same things.

Of course she had seen the slandering of Harry Potter that followed the end of the Tri-Wizard-Tournament. She simply had thought that that was what press would do. She never had thought that maybe Fudge himself would be behind the slandering and wrong information the press was printing. Now she wasn't so sure anymore.

The slandering that followed the trial last week she looked at more critical.

A formality that prevented that the boy was tried?!

She knew it wasn't like that - but she could do nothing to stop the press from printing. She would lose her job if she tried, she was sure, Fudge would arrange it. He was not pleased with her for letting the boy prove his point but she had followed the law so he could not fire her for something like that. When she tried to influence the press instead… she would be gone before she could even look his way.

And Amelia felt furious because of that. She normally did not care about the Daily Propohet - but to slander an innocent boy just because the minister did not like the young one… that was truly appealing! The boy after all was not older than her own niece and Amelia knew her niece would be devasted if anyone would dare to print things like that about her.

Someone should have protected the boy from the press. Someone should have helped him to organize a barrister to stop the slandering of the Prophet. Amelia could not fathom why Albus Dumbledore had done nothing to protect the boy until now.

She knew that the Headmaster himself had organized a barrister for himself to stop the slandering of his own name some weeks ago - so why hadn't he done so for his own ward, too?!

And then there was Fudge.

The minister was on the war path against the Headmaster and the Boy-Who-Lived.

Amelia was sure he would try everything to destroy both of them utterly. And there had been nothing Amelia had been able to stop him - after all, the minister controlled the Prophet…

But now…

She smiled, still holding the newspaper in her hands.

Maybe she could use a different approach…

She stood up and left her office, the newspaper still in her hand.

"I will go to lunch" she told her assistant.

After that she left to the apparition-point and apparated away to Diagon Alley. There, at her preferred restaurant, an old friend was waiting for her. Amelia had send her friend a letter to meet her here after she had found the article in the newspaper she was still clutching in her hands.

"Augusta" she greeted the old woman. Augusta Longbottom smiled at her.

"Amelia, my dear! Nice to see you again."

They sat down in a private boot and after they ordered, Amelia showed her old friend the article she had found in The Quibbler today.

"Look at that and tell me what you think" she instructed, showing the old lady the letter of Oliver Twist and the parts of the trial script Xeno Lovegood had inserted that showed Oliver Twist's point of few before he had answered the letter.

"Well, that definitely is something" Augusta Longbottom stated after she finished reading the article. "Xeno should watch out what he is writing - I don't think that Fudge likes it very much."

"I don't think our Minister is aware of it" Amelia answered smirking. "He is not reading The Quibbler. "

"I thought the same about you, my dear" Augusta answered.

Amelia smirked again.

"Well, I didn't" she answered. "But some weeks ago an Auror brought me the paper because of an interesting article - the first article from this Oliver Twist."

"And you decided to follow it a little bit longer in case it was not a one-time article?"

"Yes."

"So why did you ask me here?" Augusta leaned back. The door opened and their food arrived. They waited until the waiter had left the room again before continuing.

"I want to publish this article somewhere else" Amelia stated, smiling evilly. "I want it read from as many persons as possible."

"The Daily Prophet won't print it" Augusta answered.

"I know - they are in the pocket of the Ministry." Amelia answered, still smiling. And suddenly Augusta smirked.

"You are clever, my dear." She said. "I will ask. And I will write Xeno - he will know how to contact Mr. Twist."

"I thought you would catch on" Amelia said and took out some other papers. "These are trial scripts of Mr. Potter's trial. I am sure the Minister will catch on soon. He will seal the court script, so I made some copies."

"These are the only ones? No-one other has come to get a copy?" Augusta asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No" Amelia answered smiling. "There are until now fifty five others who have come."

"As soon as we have published it, I will leave these in some public places" Augusta promised smiling.

After that they spoke of different things and when Amelia finally returned to work, she felt better then she had for a long time now. She even had to stop shortly before returning to her work to let the smirk vanish from her face.

Now she just had to wait a little bit more - and then she could finally strike and demand a trial for a man she suddenly doubted that he was really guilty.

Harry smiled. In his right hand he was holding an edition of the next edition of The Quibbler. It would start to be sold next week. In his left hand he was holding a letter solely addressed to him - well, not really to him but still… to him.

It was a letter addressed to a fellow called "Oliver Twist" and it was an invitation to write for The Quibbler as a columnist. Harry had read the letter trice until now. Then he finally decided to answer the letter positively. This was a chance he had to take.

In that moment another letter arrived. It also was addressed to Oliver Twist. Winky gave it to him smiling.

"Another letter for you, Master Harry", she said.

He took it and dismissed her again.

This time his smirk even widened when he read the letter he got.

" Dear Mr. Twist", it said. " We wish to ask you to be allowed to also publish your articles in our newspaper. We are especially interested in Sirius Black and your opinion why there was no trail to begin with. If could could research this fact and maybe ask in your new letter and if Xenophilius Lovegood would be inclined to answer, we would pay you both the wage of a free-lancing journalist for this article and any other you come up with. If you accept please add your account-number and the name of your account-manager. Sincerely Amanda MacDougal, Editor in Chief for the Witch's Weekly ."

Harry grinned. Well, that was something he could work with. He quickly penned a reply and gave it to Winky to deliver. His chances were increasing. Soon he would be able to step some great men on the toes without getting burned by doing it…

A few days later Amelia Bones sat in her office, when suddenly Fudge stumbled in.

"I need your Aurors!" he cried.

Amelia just raised an eyebrow at his words.

"They have to arrest someone!" Fudge continued.

"Who?"

"A fellow named Oliver Twist!" Fudge answered huffing. "He dared to print rubbish in the Witch's Weekly !"

"You are reading the Witch's Weekly, Minister?" Amelia asked with surprise in her voice.

"Yes… uh… of course not! But Dolores does and she saw this offending article! We have to arrest this Twist fellow - and Lovegood also!"

"Lovegood? I am sure that Xenophilius Lovegood does not publish in the Witch's Weekly . So why do you want to arrest him for an article in this newspaper?" Amelia asked. Inwardly she laughed at the Minister. He was far too late. The article was printed and the most would have read it by now. There was nothing he could do anymore except of huffing and puffing and howling.

Of course, the Witch's Weekly wasn't the Daily Prophet - but it definitely had a better reputation than the Quibbler . And therer were many witches that read Witch's Weekly just for the fashion tips printed inside…

There definitely wasn't a better audience then the wives of the most influential lords or the ladies themselves…

"But he did this time!" the Minister cried in than moment, throwing the offending article on the desk before Amelia. "Look at it! They dare to mock me! Me, the Minister of Magic!"

Amelia took the newspaper and looked dutifully at the article.

"I am still not sure why you came to me" she finally said while putting the article back on the desk.

"Because you are the Head of the Law Department and you have to arrest those two individuals!" Fudge answered. "They are slandering the Ministry!"

"I cannot see any slandering in the article at all" Amelia answered. "It is based on the truth. The boy cleared himself quite effectively…"

"But… but… but there is no way that that is allowed to be printed!" Fudge howled.

"There is no law against it" Amelia said. "Would there be the Daily Prophet would have to close its business a long time ago."

Fudge blinked and gawked at her. Then he turned on his heels and stormed out of the door. Ten minutes later Amelia heard that the archive with the trial scripts had been closed for the public. She just smirked. The Minister was far too late…

When she finally left her office dozens of people had read the article and even more had looked for the trial scripts themselves. She later discovered that nearly one hundred trial scripts after the publishing in the Witch's Weekly had been given out before the Minister had time to close the doors of the archive - not counted the others that had been given out after the article in The Quibbler a week before and the scripts Amelia and Augusta Longbottom had.

A day later the whole wizarding world was discussing the unfair trial of one Harry Potter. Amelia smiled. Maybe if she pushed a little bit more she soon would be able to push for trials that were due for more then a decade…

Meanwhile another woman was smirking at the article.

Augusta Longbottom had bought herself the Witch's Weekly after the article had been printed just to be able to read it again. The way it was written… it reminded her of a man she had though to be dead… but then…

"Oliver Twist" she whispered to herself. A young orphan hero in a Muggle novel, searching for love and acceptance, used by thieves and driven away or stolen away from those that accepted him.

"Oliver Twist" she whispered again, smirking. Twist - like twisting. A person that was able to twist and turn and still come out on top. "There's just one man I could think of that would have thought about something like that" she concluded.

The only problem - she thought he had died.

"Or vanished…" Augusta reminded herself. "Well, it seems I have to take up correspondence with a fellow lord again…"

Augusta searched through her drawyer until she found parchment that had no imbodied family crest. She knew that when she was right and the man she was thinking about really had written the letters - tarned as a teenage boy - then she would have to be careful.

The man had vanished years ago. It would not endear her to him when he really was in hiding and she would flush him out by writing this letter on her usual parchment…

"Oh… I feel young again" she chuckled while setting out her writing uttensiles. "My dear professor - I would never have thought that I might have the chance to see you again…"

And then she started writing.

She wrote not much, just enough. Augusta did not want to reveal too much if someone else was intercepting her letter.

Professor Malfoire,

I am quite sure that those Twisted messages are your doing. If I am right, please consider my help in whatever plan you are working on. After all, you and I both know that some people seem to think to high of themselves and their knowledge and age. If you want to crease this sureness, one word and I will follow.

Augusta L., born S. (Hogwarts alumna in 1870)

"Now to the owl…"

Augusta chose a common barn owl and send it out with the instruction to bring the letter back if the person it was addressed to was dead. Not, that she believed him dead. And it wasn't only because the professor had been enchanted with the story of Oliver Twist and Charles Dickens in general. It was also because of the way the letters were written. No one that Augusta knew of would chose a name like Oliver Twist and write like that but the professor…

"Now I just have to wait and see what he is up to…"

And maybe warn Neville. The poor boy would be crushed down to living powder if he ever came face to face with the professor without a warning first…

A few hours later a barn owl, followed by another reached the window of a shabby looking house in London. It was the middle of the night and no-one but a young looking man was awake in the whole house.

The young man had been dreaming about a corridor and a door and had woken just a few minutes earlier.

He opened the windows and let in the owls. The two owls were followed by a third that seemed to have waited for the window to open. The young man raised an eyebrow at that but took the letters anyway.

He knew that this would be the last week to get the letters like this. He had risked to get the letters personally until now but in Hogwarts he would not be able to do so.

"I need to tell the goblins that they will get my mail until Dobby or Winky collect it…" Harry thought while opening one letter after the other. The first one was a reply he had been waiting for since he had written his dear old friend about the thief he had found - the thief who had stolen from his friend not one but two times already…

My dear old Friend,

Let it go. It's not worth it. You might have found the thief - but think about the price that could come with it, when you try to capture him. You have a life to live. Do not live it solely for revenge. There are still people in this world that care for you. Live for them.

Forget what the thief has stolen.

It was time to loose it anyway.

Your old Friend.

Me.

Harry snorted when he read the reply. Then he pinned a short answer to that one.

My dear old Friend,

Never. Some things cannot be forgotten. Some things cannot be forgiven.

Your old Friend.

Me.

The other two letters were more enjoyable. Especially one. It had been brought by the barn owl and Harry had raised his eyebrow when reading it.

"Well - at least this one will help me greatly" he whispered to himself.

"Which one?" another voice asked and Harry startled and turned, his knive coming to rest on the troath of his friend.

"Reg!" he hissed. "You know not to starle me! I could have killed you!"

"Yeah, sure" Reg answered unconcerned. "So… what are you whispering about?"

"An ally" Harry answered.

"An ally?"

"She knows me from… well… from before…"

"And how…?"

"Oliver Twist. She knows I have been a little bit… obsessed with him back in my days as a professor. And then my way of asking questions - I think that both of it together tipped her off."

"And now?"

"Nothing" Harry shrugged. "She does not know I'm Harry now. All she knows is that I am alive - and I might need her. If I am right she belongs to one of the families I would have tried to get on my side anyway. It's much easier to do so when she knows me beforehand."

"And the other letter?"

This time Harry smirked.

"Something that might aid my task greatly" he answered.

"Oh… what…?"

"I let you read this letter when you promise me to look into something" Harry said, holding the letter so that Reg could not reach it.

Reg stared at the letter, then at Harry. He sighed.

"What should I do?" he asked still sighing.

Harry grinned.

"I need information about a corridor…" he said and started to describe what he had been dreaming of this night. "Just everything you find - take your time. I am sure we will have it."

Reg nodded and Harry handed him the letter.

Looking it over, Reg's eyes widened.

"By Merlin!" he said. "That sure aids you in your task…"

"Yep" Harry answered, popping the 'p'. "And all it took was an innocent letter to a gossip rag."

"Slytherin."

"Proud of it" Harry contered grinning. Now he had just to reply positively.

The wheels of something bigger were finally starting to turn faster…