Corvus and Healer Penhaligon stood at the foot of the beds. The room held the smell of tonic and warm linen. Alice and Frank Longbottom sat upright with the glint of conscious mind for the first time in twelve years and those same eyes wide open, fearing as if a long blink might send the world away again.
Penhaligon's wand traced quiet arcs. Pale glyphs formed and faded over each patient. Pulse, core flow, lattice, reflex... Corvus followed with his own sequence, neat and spare. He spoke only to confirm readings. When the last charm dimmed he gave a small nod.
"Good," Penhaligon said, voice low. "All seems safe other than their weakened body."
Frank swung his legs off the bed. He stood with care, then crossed the space and drew Corvus into a brief, tight embrace. "My mother explained your agreement," he released Corvus. "I do not know if I can or will ever forgive Bellatrix. But you, Corvus Black, you have an ally now."
"You owe me nothing, Mr. Longbottom," Corvus said.
Frank's face set. "Please," he said with a faint smile. "Call me Frank. House Longbottom will sit with the Neutrals at the next Wizengamot session. We paid for trusting the wrong person. House Longbottom has nothing to do with Dumbledore, nothing at all." He turned back to his family.
Behind him, Alice lifted a sheet of parchment. "Is this her contract?" she asked. Bellatrix Black's name stood out in clean ink.
Corvus looked once and nodded.
"Save her," Alice said. "Bella was always unhinged... but not this. I know what it is to be trapped in your own mind. She does not deserve that. Save her, please." She pulled Neville close and rested her cheek against his hair.
Corvus inclined his head to the three of them, then to Penhaligon. "We are done here."
They reviewed orders at the chart. Potions for morning, noon and night, measured by the line. Gentle work for muscles. No wands for forty eight hours. No visitors for the first day beyond family. The Healer signed.
"You will be at home tomorrow if the numbers hold," Penhaligon said. "We will walk before we run."
By noon the next day Corvus arrived just to make sure everything was well. The Longbottoms were getting discharged. They left with a neat list and a mokeskin pouch full of vials. Frank took it without a word. Alice walked on her own and did not look back at the ward door. Neville carried the notes and kept glancing from one parent to the other a wide, silly smile on his chubby face.
In the corridor Augusta paused. "Professor Black," she called.
"Dowager."
"You will have what you asked. Neutrality now. We will talk of more when the political climate requires it." Her demeanor completely changed. Not an ounce of the bitter and aggressive woman. This was a mother dropped the weight of a decade.
Corvus accepted with a short bow. "That will do," he said.
He watched them go. They lost a decade yet were able to walk and leave it behind them. He went to Diagon Alley. Tomorrow was a special day for him.
--
The Ministry shook like a building under hexfire. Owls came through the upper windows in waves. Paper aeroplanes dived and rose. Complaints, sworn statements, lists of names. Witches and wizards who had been coerced, threatened, or simply pressured by the toad in pink wrote it all and sent it to the DMLE.
Amelia Bones worked behind a wall of parchment. Aides brought stacks and took stacks away. Each new file landed, and with it a new set of curses that did not repeat. Clerks learned to step wide. The Head of the DMLE did not raise her voice. The air around her desk said everything.
Cornelius Fudge on the other hand knew he had come to an end. He had barred his door. Two Aurors stood outside in full kit, men whose names already appeared in more than one report. Inside the office the Minister paced and rehearsed denials to a room that had no patience left for him. Outside, the atrium spoke in small voices, and the small voices multiplied.
In the Records Office, a clerk set a new ledger on a stand. The title read Complaints Received, Undersecretary File. Two pages filled, then ten, then more. Quills wore down. Ink pots emptied. The work did not slow.
By close of day, DMLE runners had posted summons for interviews, and a notice had gone to every department. Compliance expected. Non compliance will be noted. A simple line at the bottom carried Bones' seal.
Tomorrow the Wizengamot would sit. The chamber would not sound the same again.
--
Arcturus Black walked toward the Wizengamot chamber as if it belonged to him. The Aurors at the corridor stepped aside without being told. Clerks made themselves small. The doors opened before his hand touched them.
Praise had followed House Black for weeks, for a very good reason. Local and continental papers had taken turns. The family had remembered how to be a pillar and the public had remembered how to cheer. Arcturus was not given to vanity. He allowed himself to enjoy it. Well.. May be a little vanity as well. Especially towards portraits of the smug ancestors. He thanked Mother Magic and the stars they were named after for the heir who kept giving him reasons to be proud.
Today though the chamber felt odd. The first mark was the arrest of the foolish toad the Minister had kept at his side. The second was that same Minister not yet in his chair. Arcturus stood and looked over the chamber while the benches filled. He noted Augusta Longbottom standing by her place and not taking it. She stood even after the last seat was occupied. All but the Minister's.
The Chief Warlock began the session. He looked tired. That detail pleased Arcturus more than it should have. He kept his face smooth and let the pleasure sit behind his eyes where no one could take it away.
--
Albus Dumbledore was not a happy man lately, not a happy Cheif Warlock, not a happy Headmaster nor a happy Supreme Mugwump. He kept thinking about the cost. The post of Chief Warlock had once been a comfort. It felt like a weight now, a heavyweight with the changes in the wizengamot. Lately he had been losing. He had spent favors faster than he could earn them. He kept spending to lead. To his deluded mind, there can be no order at all without his hand to keep the circle round. They would be lost without him. He knew that. They did not. They were stubborn, ignorant. They pushed against him and against the changes he brought. He told himself it was for the greater good. He did not bother to tell them that his greater good was a map only he had seen in full.
He turned his tired gaze to Augusta Longbottom. She was standing. He let the question into his tone. "Dowager Longbottom."
She looked at Arcturus, then back at the dais. "House Longbottom has announcements," she said. Her voice was clear and reached every bench.
She began with the plain line. "I will not fill the family seat in this chamber."
Only a handful had been told. Most of the Lords and Ladies frowned or lifted their brows and waited for her next words. The doors opened and a figure walked in slowly.
Gasps came from every side. Frank Longbottom stepped to the center of the floor. His frame was thin yet his eyes were sharp as daggers. He locked his gaze at Dumbledore and did not look away for a few seconds.
Augusta did not look at the benches when she spoke again. "House Longbottom will be represented by Lord Frank Longbottom from this day forward." She left the front row and walked to the seats reserved for visitors. She sat there without asking leave.
Frank did not go to the place his mother had kept warm for years. He crossed the floor toward the center benches.
He stopped before the Neutrals and spoke in a voice that carried without strain. "House Longbottom wishes to join the Neutral side of the Wizengamot."
Lord Greengrass rose. He was the leader of the Neutrals in fact if not in title. He opened his arms in welcome. "Lord Longbottom. We thank Mother Magic for your safety and your return regardless of the side your seat honors. Whatever place you choose is made stronger by it. Please," he motioned. "Be welcome among peers." Some of the Neutrals shifted to open a seat for him.
Frank did not sit at once. He looked across the chamber to where Arcturus Black watched with a measuring eyes. Frank inclined his head slightly. The nod was small. It was seen by every Lord and every Lady. The thought it carried was simple. Corvus Black had done this.
The Traditionalists liked what they saw and did not bothered to hid their smiles. The Neutrals were pleased but careful. They knew strong Traditionalists often did what they liked and called it custom. The Progressives watched the numbers move and felt the gap open in their line.
Dumbledore gathered the parchment for the day and found he did not want to read the item list. He did not want to read anything. He set his hand on the block and drew breath to begin. He was a word into the programme when Arcturus rose.
"House Black has announcements," Arcturus said. His mouth held a faint smile that had not been there a moment before.
He turned first to Frank. "Welcome, Lord Longbottom."
Frank gave him a short nod and sat.
Arcturus faced the chamber. "We mark a joyous matter, my Lords and Ladies. Lady Vinda Rosier, last of her House on the continent, has sent a letter to this body. She recognizes Corvus Black as the last living kin of House Rosier in Wizarding Britain. He holds right to the Rosier seat and everything else that comes with it through his late mother, Selene Rosier."
He took a folded folder from his pocket and sent it to the dais with a small motion of his wand. It floated the distance without hurry and came to rest before the Chief Warlock.
Arcturus did not add flourish. "The letter bears the signatures of Lady Vinda, the Rosier elder from the continental branch, and the seal of the French Ministry's registry. There is a family tree enclosed. There are copies," he added sharply towards the registrar. "For the Record."
Murmurs rose. The Traditionalists were smugly happy. A pure line had found a way to stand again. They liked the tidiness of it and the strength it gave to their wing. The Neutrals sounded pleased and wary together. Power had a way of setting its own rules if left to itself. The Progressives began to argue in low voices. They had just lost one of their old pillars to the center. Now came the promise that House Rosier would sit, and that the man who would hold it was the heir of House Black.
Dumbledore broke the seal. He read the lines by habit and then again with care. He felt the unlucky streak continue. He could not name the source and he disliked that more. He passed the page to the clerk by his left hand and spoke the form that was required. "The chamber acknowledges receipt of a notice from House Rosier on the continent. The letter claims kin between that House and the British branch through Selene Rosier, lately of House Black by marriage. The letter further proposes that the heir named, Corvus Black, is the last kin fit to take the British seat. The Chief Registrar will examine the documents and return a report."
Arcturus nodded in satisfaction. "We thank the Chief Warlock. We ask that the Registrar's review be set on the short calendar. Heir Black's birthday is near and a Lordship is a suitable gift for someone of his standing and success." He added the detail to poke the hornet's nest. "There is no benefit in delay where a House is concerned." He looked at no one when he said delay. Though the address was clear to everyone.
Dumbledore's look did not change at the targeted barb. "The Registrar will move with due speed." He placed the packet to his right.
Arcturus let the room take a breath before he returned to his seat.
The Traditionalists allowed themselves a round of neat applause. The Neutrals joined for a few beats. The Progressives, strangely did not. Two of them even whispered, hard enough to show teeth.
Arcturus sat. He had said enough. His mood was good and he let himself keep it.