Harry Potter and the Prince of Slytherin

Chapter 50: Lords of the Wizengamot

James leaned back slowly and considered what he'd heard. Finally, he peered deep into Pettigrew's eyes as if searching for something.

"Peter, are you ... are you sure this is what you want?"

Pettigrew nodded bashfully. "I ... know I haven't been the best Gryffindor or the bravest. Certainly not like you two. For a long time, I wasn't sure why the Hat made me one in the first place. But I know now. I am a Gryffindor, and I'm ready to step up and prove it."

He leaned forward towards James with an earnest expression. "I know what I'm doing and why." And then, Peter smiled. "Believe me. I'll do Gryffindor proud."

Doubt and worry washed over James's face, but finally he slowly nodded his approval. "Okay, Peter. You win. You'll be our Secret Keeper."

Sirius clapped Peter on the shoulder almost affectionately before turning back to James.

"I won't let you down either, Prongs," he said cheerfully. "I promise you. Nothing is going to go wrong. This plan is perfect!"

Now ...

The Remembrall slipped through nerveless fingers and dropped to the floor before rolling under the bed. James sat transfixed, his eyes wide with absolute horror, his mouth hanging open as he struggled to speak and even to breathe.

"Oh ... Oh God ... Sirius ... No!"

Elsewhere in the home, the house elves all looked fearfully in the direction of the Master bedroom as a wail of regret and shame and despair echoed through the halls of Potter Manor.

The Contemplation Hall
7:45 a.m.

The somewhat pompously named "Contemplation Hall" was actually a series of interconnected rooms adjacent to the Wizengamot Chamber. Its name was derived from its official purpose – to provide an area for the members of the Wizengamot to withdraw and give reasoned thought to the issues that were before the body. In practice, the Contemplation Room basically functioned as a private club for the Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot and was used less for contemplation than for gossip, naps between sessions, and the discreet exchange of favors and occasionally outright bribes. Its largest room was a dining area for those members who did not have an opportunity to eat breakfast before early morning sessions or who simply wanted a snack during breaks in the proceedings. It also had a fully-stocked bar, though it was not open this early in the morning. The Founding Families did believe in having some decorum, after all.

Today, Elphias Doge (who was not only Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Doge but also its sole surviving member) sat alone at a table and picked at the remains of his breakfast while reading through the day's agenda. He glanced up and smiled as two familiar faces came to join him, each bearing a plate of food from the nearby buffet.

"Albus! Barty!" he exclaimed. "I was wondering if you'd make it back in time for this foofaraw. How was Paris?"

"Miserable," Barty Crouch replied irritably. "Rainy and full of French people, as usual. We got back late last night. Everything went smoothly." He spared a mild glare towards Albus Dumbledore who took a seat beside him.

"In fact," he added reproachfully, "there was more strife within the British delegation than between us and the other representatives!"

Albus sighed. "Barty, my old friend, you know the basis for my objections. But since you and young Ludo successfully pushed through the proposal in my absence, I consider the matter closed. Take your victory and move on."

"What were your objections about, Albus?" Elphias inquired, but it was Barty who answered.

"I managed to get the entirety of next year's interscholastic tournament paid for by the ICW plus extra funding for Hogwarts that makes up the budget hole left from losing last year's Mandrake crop, and Albus is still complaining because in exchange we agreed to incorporate a priceless historical relic into the tournament in order to increase public interest."