Hermione Granger rubbed her eyes tiredly as she shut the book she was reading with a snap. It was past six in the evening and she was in the Hogwarts library, studying for her N.E.W.T.s that were scheduled in two days. The stress of the exams was really getting to her and she found herself snapping at several people over the past few weeks.
Seven years ... it had been nearly seven years since she had entered the magical world, and Hermione's life had taken a complete turn since the day she found out about being a witch. Throughout her childhood, there were instances and situations that happened that she could never explain. Her parents were quite worried, but the doctors could never find anything wrong with her. Finally, a few weeks before her eleventh birthday, a woman named Professor McGonagall had come to her house and informed her that she was a witch.
Naturally, she had been ecstatic with the information she was given. Her parents were leery about the concept of magic and about sending their only daughter to an unknown place for ten months a year, but Hermione had managed to convince them. After all, Hogwarts was the best magical school in all of Magical Britain, according to the good professor. Also, since she was born in September 1989, she would have to wait a full year to attend Hogwarts and that gave her enough time to buy books on magic and be prepared for school. Her parents had been awed by what they had seen in Diagon Alley too, and fully supported her decision in studying magic before school started.
Her favourite book of all had been Hogwarts, A History. Professor McGonagall had explained to her about the magical world, but Hermione wanted to learn more. She was quite thrilled to read stories about great wizards such as Godric Gryffindor and Albus Dumbledore who fought for Muggle rights and defeated evil wizards like Salazar Slytherin and Gellert Grindelwald. However, the more she read, the more she thought that the magical world was very backward. So much of what they did was so idiotic, in her opinion. The concept of using birds for mail, quills and parchment for writing, and gold coins for currency was archaic, while in comparison, the Muggle world was so much more advanced.
Of course, she realised later that a few of her theories were wrong. The magical form of parchment was used because paper would dissolve quickly due to potion fumes (she had learnt that lesson the hard way in her first year of school). But the very concept of blood purity infuriated her! Hermione had been determined to get sorted into Gryffindor when she arrived at Hogwarts because she looked up to Albus Dumbledore and the founder of the house of lions, and thus wanted to be like them. Gryffindor House seemed like the best of them all, with their values of bravery and standing up to dark wizards who wanted to harm Muggles. It was natural that she would be drawn there.
When she first met Harry Potter, the famed Boy-Who-Lived, Hermione had thought that he was a very cold person. The way he contradicted her during the train ride only served to reinforce that fact. She didn't bother talking to him after that incident because of the jittery nerves of the sorting ceremony. Hermione remembered that the Sorting Hat was quite convinced that she would do well in Ravenclaw, but she had persisted, forcing the Hat to put her in Gryffindor instead. Unfortunately, everything was not rosy in the lion's den. She quickly realized that just like in primary school, she had managed to alienate herself with her attitude. She had been growing distressed as the weeks passed by, and Ron Weasley's words on Halloween had only embarrassed her more.
Hermione didn't want to think about what might have happened had the prefects not arrived in time to save her from the troll. She probably would have died.
She was determined more than ever to study hard after that incident. After Ron Weasley had tentatively apologised to her after the attack by the troll, the two of them had become friends. She would help him with his homework most of the time, but it was still friendship. At the end of the year, she had been elated to find out that she had stood first among all the students in Gryffindor, only for her happiness to evaporate when she found out that she was not the first among her batch in the school.
No, that title had gone to Daphne Greengrass. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, had never returned to their class after the Christmas holidays. He had been accepted into the accelerated program at the school. Hermione knew that the boy must have done it only through his fame, for how could he have been offered that chance while she hadn't? She was one of the top students in her year! She could practically recite her textbook word for word! And yet, she had not been offered the chance to be enrolled in the accelerated program. It frustrated her to no end when she stood third in their year. In her Muggle school, she was always first, and she hadn't been able to digest this fact.
As the years passed, her irritation at Harry Potter only grew. No matter what she tried, she could never beat him. He had swiftly proved her wrong to show that he did indeed qualify for the accelerated program by standing first in every exam. Even those who were most vocal about their displeasure in him being in the program had quieted down as Potter had won the respect of the older students. By the time she was a fourth year, the boy who was younger by ten months was a seventh-year student.
However, that was when the two of them began scraping shields. When Hermione found out about the existence of house-elves, she had been horrified. Never had she realised that Hogwarts was home to more than a hundred slaves! She had gone to the library and read about house-elves and realised that such slavery had existed for centuries! Wanting to help those poor creatures, she began hiding clothes in various parts of Gryffindor Tower, hoping that the abused creatures would be set free due to her actions.
That was when Harry Potter had decided to show what a bigoted person he really was. She had actually made progress, freeing a few of the Hogwarts house-elves, and Potter had revealed to her that he had re-bonded the elves back to the castle. She had been apoplectic, and the situation only went downhill. Hermione couldn't understand how Potter could ever think the magical world was as advanced as the Muggle world. From her perspective, everything was so backward! Their culture was barbaric, and they never wanted to accept the new changes that Muggles were coming up with! She had passionately spoken about Muggle-borns, only for Potter to contradict her with names of famous Muggle-borns who had achieved greatness. For everything she said, he had countered with another claim about the so-called magnificence of the magical world.
Her annoyance with Potter never stopped. When You-Know-Who had returned, Ron and Ginny's mother had invited her to stay with the Weasleys for the summer for protection. Her parents had gone abroad during the holidays, so she had happily accepted the offer. She was ecstatic when she found out that the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was in one of the Black family properties with a library inside. Unfortunately, she had been unable to get in, despite trying repeatedly. She had been annoyed by Dylan Lestrange's statement about only family members being able to enter, but that was not what drove her over the edge.
How was it that purebloods could perform magic during the holidays while Muggle-borns like her could not? It was fundamentally wrong! The law couldn't be selective, could it? Naturally, Potter being the pureblood bigot that he was, had been quick to point out that the law only existed for the protection of witches and wizards, and that it only applied to children living in Muggle areas. Hermione was not convinced. It sounded like a sham to her. Who else other than Muggle-borns would live in Muggle areas? The law essentially forced the Muggle-borns to remain downtrodden while purebloods could perform magic at their leisure. What annoyed her most was that Potter would convince everyone who was listening that he was always right and that whatever he spouted had absolutely nothing to do with blood purity at all!
She knew that it was a lie.
The Dark Arts ... that was when Hermione saw the true face of Harry Potter. While she had grudgingly admitted that Daphne Greengrass' move had been smart in creating the Defence Association, she had been appalled when Potter taught them the Blood-Boiling Curse and the Organ-Liquefying Curse. Those curses were never taught in class. She found Potter very irresponsible in teaching so many students how to cast it. Those curses were classified as the Dark Arts for a reason, and it could have consequences in the future.
With that in mind, Hermione decided that she had to do something about it, and as a responsible student and prefect, she had informed Professor McGonagall about the D.A. Unfortunately, Greengrass had, without the permission of any of the members, jinxed the parchment, so that what she wanted to say did not register. Instead, she had painted a target on Professor Snape's back. That had been an unmitigated disaster. She had been questioned by Ministry wizards who found the jinx in minutes. However, none of them wanted to get rid of it.
Hermione personally felt that the Minister of Magic did not want his godson in trouble. It infuriated her when Minister Black chewed out Professor Dumbledore and had finally managed to get Professor Snape sacked.
She had been horrified.
But that was not the tragedy ... You-Know-Who had apparently been furious at his spy's dismissal from the Hogwarts staff. Less than a week after Snape had been fired, Hermione was called to Professor McGonagall's office where she was informed about her parents' deaths. She had never been more grief-stricken in her life. Hermione had taken an extended leave of absence from the school after the attack. The tortured bodies of her parents still gave her nightmares. She had cried for her mother and father, but it was no use. They were dead, killed by the Death Eaters, and were not coming back.
She had returned to Hogwarts a month later, having completely missed the Battle of Hogsmeade. Hermione was shocked to find out that the war was over, and that Harry Potter had defeated You-Know-Who, and that Professor Dumbledore had been bed-ridden.
For two years, Hermione had watched Potter and Greengrass from the shadows. While she knew that the Death Eaters were responsible for her parents' demise, that didn't mean those two weren't culpable either! Had Greengrass not jinxed that sheet of parchment, Professor Snape would never have been sacked, and her parents wouldn't have been attacked because of it. Her anger had increased slowly as time passed. When her sixth year started, she was determined more than ever to make her parents proud and to beat Greengrass in all her exams.
It was during her sixth year that Hermione also experienced the pleasures of love. She had met Percy Weasley during her stay at Grimmauld Place the previous year, and the two of them had got along extremely well. Both of them had spoken about a variety of topics then, bonding over their trust in those of authority and their great ambition for their careers. That had continued in her sixth year, and the two had become a couple. Percy helped her slowly get out of the depression she had seeped into after her parents' deaths, sharing his own experiences of how he dealt with his father's death.
As the end of year exams approached, Hermione had tried her level best to beat Greengrass, only to find out that the Slytherin was not writing her sixth-year exams, but instead, was writing her N.E.W.T.s. She had immediately gone to Professor Flitwick, the deputy headmaster, to demand an explanation, only to be told that Greengrass had already passed the sixth year exams and after her teachers had agreed, had been allowed to take her N.E.W.T.s one year in advance.
Hermione had been bitter about that, not to mention very jealous and angry. The girl who had essentially created a scenario that caused her parents to be murdered had been allowed to skip a year? It was pureblood propaganda all over again! Hermione was sure that the only reason the Slytherin had been given that privilege was because she was a pureblood with parents who were wealthy.
She had tried to take her N.E.W.T.s as well, but her teachers had refused. While she could no doubt pass her Transfiguration, Charms and Potions exams, there were several other subjects that were new to her. She had taken the maximum possible subjects, even going so far as to study others on her own. She hadn't been able to cram a year's education in one week. Hermione had been forced to watch as she topped the exams. The only problem was that Greengrass wasn't even on the list of the sixth-year students anymore.
Furious tears pricked Hermione's eyes when she glared hatefully at the couple she had just been thinking about. Those two had directly or indirectly, intentionally or unintentionally, rendered her an orphan. And this time, she wouldn't stew in the shadows. She would demand an answer from them!
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
"Miss me?" whispered Harry, nibbling on her earlobe delicately.
"You have no idea," replied Daphne softly. She turned around and threw her arms around his neck, giving him a tight hug. Harry smiled as he lifted her off her feet, lighting twirling her about as he captured her lips in a searing kiss.
"Congratulations, egghead," she smirked. "Six Master's degrees, I'm impressed."
Harry simply rolled his eyes at the 'nickname' that Dylan had come up with. How that brat convinced Daphne to use it, Harry had no idea. "How has it been around here?"
"Nothing new, really, though Granger looks like she's going to burst due to the stress."
He raised an eyebrow. "I guess she didn't like the fact that you took your N.E.W.T.s early?"
"No," confessed Daphne softly. "She never confronted me, but I did hear rumours that she didn't like it. Apparently, she went to Professor Flitwick and asked if she could take the exams early too. Flitwick spoke to her teachers, and many of them felt that Granger wasn't ready to take them yet. While she is quite talented in magic, the new subjects in the curriculum are not something she is familiar with. That didn't stop her from taking as many subjects as possible, though."
"I heard that she's even taking a few without attending classes."
"Yes. She's running herself ragged, and I can't help but feel bad for her; I know how I've slogged over the past year for these two Master's degrees, it certainly wasn't easy. It must be hard, losing her parents so suddenly. I heard that she's trying for a position in the Ministry, but not sure which department."
Harry hummed as they headed towards the door. "Come on," he muttered. "Let's head back to our suite."
She laughed. "You might not what to go there just yet ... not unless you want to catch Dylan and Astoria having sex in our common room."
Harry's lips curved into an amused smile. "Well then, my Lady, will you please accompany me to the Room of Requirement? I have a lot to tell you about my meeting with our esteemed Minister of Magic."
Daphne's eyes lit up. "You spoke to your father about Camelot?" she whispered excitedly.
"Yes, and he's on board. Stage one has begun."
Daphne's face turned serious immediately. "Are you going to venture out later tonight?" she asked.
"Yes," replied Harry, his face darkening. "I need to know, Daph. We can't proceed with stage two unless we know the real-life scenario. Will you come with me?"
"You know I will. Dylan has finished compiling the list. He – hello, Granger, is there something we can do for you?"
The couple stopped at the entrance of the Restricted Section of the library as they spotted Hermione Granger standing in front of them. They looked at her with their faces devoid of emotion. The two of them hadn't spoken to the girl since the day the secret of the Defence Association had nearly been ousted.
Hermione's red-rimmed eyes glared furiously at the couple in front of her. "I've tried to bury my anger at you both for two years," she said waspishly, her eyes filled with tears. "But we'll all be leaving school soon and I wanted to get this out of the way. I want you to know that I will never forgive you for your actions."
Daphne frowned as she casually cast a silencing charm around them with just a hand gesture. Harry simply raised an eyebrow at the bushy-haired girl.
"And what exactly did we do?"
"Your actions caused the deaths of my parents!" yelled Hermione angrily, tears streaming down her face.
Both Harry and Daphne's expressions hardened. "You have our condolences for the deaths of your parents, Granger," said Harry quietly. "But please, tell me, how were we at fault?"
Hermione's parents had died two years ago, just a couple of days before the Battle of Hogsmeade. Voldemort had not been pleased that his trusted spy had been forced to leave Hogwarts and had his displeasure shown – Hermione's parents had been targeted. The Ministry hadn't known about it because no flashy spells were used and no Dark Mark was cast over the sky until after the incident. By the time the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol had arrived at the scene, it was already over. Hermione's parents had been tortured and killed.
"It was you who made us sign on that blasted sheet of parchment!" spat Hermione. "Why did you have to enchant it like that? You could have jinxed it another way! You could have caused pimples to sprout on the face of the person, you could have made their hair turn purple, you could have –"
"None of those measures would have kept the existence of the DA a secret," said Daphne sharply. "I only cared about efficiency, Granger, not embarrassment. Voldemort was doing his best to stamp out every source of rebellion, and that meant poorly educated students graduating from Hogwarts. We formed the DA that year only so that people could defend themselves, and it certainly helped! For your information, many of the teachers here also suspected that there was something going on. Two hundred students cannot disappear without raising suspicion, but they too didn't interfere because they wanted us to learn. My goal was to keep the knowledge of the DA away from Dumbledore, Snape and Voldemort. Had Harry not taught so many people, the Battle of Hogsmeade would have been a massacre! I warned everyone that they couldn't tell the teachers about it. I said couldn't, not shouldn't. It's not my fault that you chose to betray us!"
"I would never have spoken to Professor McGonagall had Potter not taught us the Dark Arts! Those curses were lethal and are considered dark for a reason!"
"I distinctly remember giving a lecture about the concept of light and dark," replied Harry, his eyes narrowed. "I never forced the theory down your throat, Granger, nor did I force anyone to cast those spells. I don't believe in the concept of magic being branded like that."
Hermione snorted. "If great wizards like Albus Dumbledore believed that the Dark Arts were bad, who are you to protest against it?"
The couple stilled and their auras lashed out of their bodies at the very mention of the deceased headmaster. The air thickened with raw magic and their eyes began glowing with suppressed rage. Hermione actually shuddered involuntarily as their presence enveloped the room.
Albus Dumbledore was a topic neither of them wanted to talk about.
"Leave that bastard's name out of this discussion," said Daphne in a low voice, squeezing her fiancé's hand comfortingly to calm him down. "We don't care about Dumbledore; never have, never will. I'm sorry that your parents were attacked by the Death Eaters, Granger, but you were not the only one who was targeted. Dylan and I were held hostage by Voldemort for a month before we broke ourselves out. Bellatrix Lestrange tortured us every day, and trust me, it was not an experience I would recommend to anyone. Don't blame us just because you see everything in black and white. Harry and I did not force you to attend the DA meetings; you chose to do that on your own. You had no right to stop others from learning just because you felt it isn't right."
"It's the Dark Arts!" shrieked Hermione.
"No, I never taught you the Dark Arts," said Harry, his voice very soft. Daphne grimaced. Unlike her, Harry never raised his voice when he was angry. The calmer he appeared to the naked eye, the softer his voice, the angrier he was. Harry's eyes were jet black, and that meant he was furious. She didn't blame him. He was very protective of her, and Granger blaming Daphne for her parents' deaths was no doubt annoying the hell out of him. Her left eye was twitching in irritation too. Unknown to Daphne, her deep blue eyes were glowing an eerie white.
"What I taught you was magic that is considered grey. Most of it is included in the current Offensive Magic curriculum. The curses I demonstrated are not taught at school, but I assure you, they are very much a part of the training that Aurors and Hit-Wizards go through before they reach professional level. You can never defend yourself unless you know what you're up against. We were at war. Just because you wanted to continue living in a bubble didn't mean that everyone else did. Had you been at home when your parents were attacked, and the Death Eaters were throwing curses everywhere, how would you have defended yourself against them? Could you have identified the Blood-Boiling Curse or would you have mistaken it for a stunner? Would you have been able to reserve the Sectumsempra curse? I taught them for a reason! I wanted you all to survive!"
"Grow up, Granger," said Daphne, her upper lip curling in distaste. "You're a smart girl, but if there is one thing I have observed about you over the years is that you're painfully limited. Narrow. Close minded. If you want to blame someone for the deaths of your parents, blame the Death Eaters. Don't you dare point your finger at us. It was your fault for being such a tattletale. Now if you'll excuse us, we have some business to attend to. Have a nice life, Granger."
Harry's blackish-green eyes loomed over the bushy-haired girl as he followed his fiancée out of the Restricted Section. He was still seething. Her fingers intertwined with his.
"Forget about her, Harry," Daphne said quietly. "She's not worth our time. We have bigger fish to fry."
Harry took a deep breath as he nodded. Hermione was still glaring at them hatefully, her cheeks stained with tears. She clenched her fists angrily.
No matter what they claimed, Potter and Greengrass had blood on their hands – the blood of Hermione's parents. Those two were up to something. And Hermione vowed to herself that she would do her utmost best to make her parents proud. She would rise above Potter and Greengrass and drag the wizarding world out of the middle ages to the enlightened and developed age of the Muggles.
With her intelligence and dedication, nothing was impossible.
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
Two figures quietly made their way out of Hogwarts using the secret passageway that the Shrieking Shack offered. Covering their heads with their hoods, masking their faces with a glamour charm, the figures stealthily walked towards the end of the village. It was just past eight, and the village was bustling with activity. Even the Hog's Head was surprisingly full.
"Can you imagine how this village would turn out if it's converted into a magnificent city?" whispered Harry.
Daphne hummed in agreement. They reached the Apparition point and with barely a whisper, they disappeared. When they reappeared, they were in a dark alley.
"Come on," muttered Harry. "Which is the first orphanage we're going to visit here?"
"Looks like Dylan was quite sentimental when he made the list," replied Daphne, gazing at a sheet of parchment. "Our first stop is David's orphanage for children."
Harry's eyes darkened at the very mention of the place that his beloved little brother had grown up in. Night had crept up on the city of Edinburgh. The couple silently walked towards the old building, the exterior doing nothing to hinder their anger and despair.
"I can't believe that he grew up in such filthy conditions," whispered Daphne furiously. Harry silently nodded, memories of his cupboard under the stairs at Number Four, Privet Drive, flashing before his eyes.
The two of them were quick to cast Disillusionment Charms on themselves as they entered the building. For nearly fifteen minutes, they silently watched the children interact. Daphne finally snapped her fingers, wandlessly scanning the building for magical activity.
They found five children. Five abused children.
"It looks like they haven't learnt their lesson after what happened to Dylan," spat Daphne angrily.
Harry's upper lip curled in distaste. While he hated Voldemort with a passion, he never lost the sympathy he had felt for the boy Tom Riddle. Harry had seen nearly all of Tom's memories and combined with his own experiences and Dylan's, he had decided to check if there were indeed magical children out there in Muggle orphanages. They wouldn't allow magical children to be abused like this. Memories of the exorcism that he had undergone, that Tom had undergone, that Dylan had undergone flooded into his mind.
All three boys had been scarred permanently due to that horrifying incident, and he was not stupid enough to believe that other magical children raised by intolerant and illogical Muggles did not have to go through the same.
They quietly walked up the stairs and kept a keen eye on where the magical children were being held. The door to their left opened with a bang, and the matron was bodily thrown out of the room.
The Banishing Charm. Accidental magic.
The woman got up, spluttering, her face writ with anger. "How dare you?" she shrieked. "How dare you attack me, you little brats? First, you pull that stunt at school this morning, and now you do this? I'll put an end to your – your unnaturalness – if it's the last thing I do! You're just like that freakish Lestrange boy!"
Harry's eyes were black as the cosmos, and he was completely still. His blood was boiling. No matter what these people claimed to the outside world, the children in orphanages were never treated well. The state of the building was enough to let him know that. Dylan had confided in him that they had always been short of funds. The air was stale, the floor filthy, and the bathrooms were in the worst conditions possible. The beds were also old and not replaced. They stank badly due to repeated bedwetting caused by little children, never thoroughly cleaned or dried by the caregivers in the orphanage.
Neglect was commonplace. Since there were hundreds of children and so few adults to care for them, bullying was rampant. Infants were quiet because there was no adult to give them any sort of attention. Dylan had survived in such a place for eleven years, with people constantly tormenting him and beating him up. Due to lack of personal possessions, anything the children owned was treasured jealously. It was human nature, and Harry remembered his own instances of such when he was at the Dursleys. Unknown to anyone other than Daphne and Dylan, he still had his old baby blanket in his closet at Potter Castle. Tom Riddle had been the same. The caregivers were overworked and irritable and took their frustration out on the children. There were too few adults to care for too many children. That led to more problems.
But the problem was much worse when it came to Muggle-born orphans. Dylan had researched thoroughly over the past several months and had been startled to realise that nearly ninety per cent of children living in orphanages were not true orphans. They were mostly abandoned by single parents ... or in the case of Muggle-borns, due to their freakish powers.
No matter how much Harry despised them, he could understand that the Dursleys had been scared of magic. According to his mother's journal, Petunia had been terrified ever since Snape, in his emotional state when he was a boy, had accidentally caused a branch to fall very close to Petunia's head. Muggles couldn't understand or deal with accidental magic because they didn't know what it was. They thought there was something strange going on with their children, but no doctor could ever find anything wrong, physically or mentally. How could they? Because there was nothing truly abnormal with the children – they were behaving normally by performing accidental magic.
Such unexplainable behaviour usually terrified Muggle parents, and as an extension, Muggle-born children as well. Like most of the country's population, only a select few Muggle-borns too were invited to study at Hogwarts. The rest, like the other purebloods and half-bloods, joined the other smaller schools of Magical Britain. While there were some rare cases like Lily Potter's parents who were ecstatic at the fact that their daughter was magical, that was a minority. Majority of the Muggle parents were very leery or downright hateful of magic. 'Freakish' was a word that was not invented by Vernon Dursley. It was used by several others as well. Being away for ten months a year, without much contact caused a rift between Muggle-borns and their parents.
Serena Miller was not the first, nor was she the last to be ostracised by her family for being magical.
While some parents continued to raise their magical children due to their love for them, others just couldn't handle the unnatural behaviour their offspring exhibited. Such magical children were usually abandoned in orphanages. Harry wondered if there were other magical children abandoned on the streets as well.
The situation was chronic, ignored by the magical government for so long because of their bigoted pureblood ways.
Not anymore, Harry vowed to himself. Muggle-borns would never be mistreated and the children would never be abused, by both Muggles as well as wizards. These people had suffered enough.
He snapped out of his musings when Daphne Confunded the matron. The powers of the Deathly Hallows were truly spectacular. He, Daphne and Dylan did not truly need a wand to wield magic. Their fingers acted as magical foci and they were more powerful than anyone in recorded or unrecorded history. However, they still did use wands in public. There was no need to attract unwanted attention.
Daphne swiftly altered the woman's memories and sent her back downstairs. The couple slowly removed their glamour and Disillusionment Charms and entered the room. They grimaced when they saw a boy and girl shivering in fright.
Harry stood back in silence as Daphne moved forward to introduce herself, her magic slowly engulfing the orphans in order to calm them down. While he got along swimmingly with Rigel, he still was not comfortable dealing with children, so he let his fiancée handle them. Had the situation not been this grave, he would have smiled at the way Daphne soothingly spoke to the little witch and wizard. She was a lot better at handling children than he was.
The couple walked out of the orphanage nearly an hour later, having spoken to all five magical children – after Daphne healed their injuries, of course, and given them food to eat. The two had assured them all that they would be rescued from the orphanage soon. Dylan had been right. Out of the five children here, three of them had been abandoned by their Muggle parents. The six-year-old girl had still been crying for her mummy and daddy, leading to more cases of accidental magic that no one at the orphanage could explain. The children had been very hesitant and leery of the two strangers, but Harry and Daphne had managed to give them something that would sustain them for a few more weeks – hope.
And they were determined not to shatter that hope.
"Why doesn't anyone keep tabs on these orphanages?" asked Daphne through gritted teeth as they walked out of the building. "They're malnourished and traumatized!"
He snorted. "The Muggle government doesn't care because they're lowly orphans and the Ministry of Magic doesn't care because they're lowly Muggle-borns. Bloody selfish bastards. Can you imagine the plight of such children? They're abandoned in the Muggle world, and once they're brought to the magical world, they're shown that they're inferior as compared to arrogant purebloods who blindly follow Voldemort's propaganda. Then there are others like Dolores Umbridge who would literally massacre these Muggle-borns because of her own hatred and self-importance. We cannot let this continue, Daph. I won't let other children grow up the way I did, the way Dylan did."
Daphne took a deep breath to reign in her anger. Magic was swirling around both of them and the concrete road beneath their feet actually cracked due to their rage. "One down," she muttered, "one hundred and twenty-seven to go."
The couple walked back to the dark alley and Disapparated to their next destination.
They didn't return to Hogwarts for the next five days.
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
Harry Potter opened his eyes groggily. He blinked, trying to decipher his dark surroundings. With just a thought, he activated the lightning charms to a dim setting and immediately recognized the Slytherin colours and the crest that on the wall behind the expansive bed at the far end of the room.
He was in his bedroom at Black Manor, sitting on one of the reclining leather armchairs by the fireplace. A fond smile formed on his lips when he saw the little boy that was curled up on his lap, the familiar mop of wavy blue hair quite familiar. He chuckled as he placed a gentle kiss on his youngest brother's head, enjoying the warmth and comfort of the embrace of the five-year-old Metamorphmagus.
Gently carrying Rigel to the bedroom that was next to his, Harry placed the child on his bed and tucked him in. Kissing his brother on the forehead once more, he walked out of the room. He checked his wristwatch and realised that it was dinnertime. He must have drifted off to sleep after talking to Rigel for so long.
"Had a nice nap?" asked Amelia, smiling fondly at him. "You both looked too adorable for me to wake you, so I decided to simply take a picture instead."
Harry chuckled as he took a seat at the dining table, piling his plate with food. Sirius had gone to Japan for a diplomatic meeting so it was just him, Amelia and Rigel at the manor. Dylan was still not home because his O.W.L.s were going on at Hogwarts, and Daphne was in New York City, presenting her papers to acquire her Masters' in Charms and Arithmancy.
"Sirius informed me about your plans for the cities," said Amelia, after swallowing her food. She laughed. "Why do you want to name it Camelot, anyway?"
Harry shrugged. "The ancient city has been lost due to war. So much of our culture emerged from the original Camelot millennia ago, so it is fitting that if we were to build another city that looks after the affairs of Magical Britain – Avalon – it would be named after King Arthur's capital."
Amelia hummed. "I'm impressed with your plan, Harry. Convincing witches and wizards to relocate from Diagon Alley and other Muggle populated areas will not be a problem, but I do believe that the goblins will throw a stink."
Harry cringed slightly. He knew that too. While he was on good terms with Ragnok, the bank manager of Gringotts London, he knew that wizard-goblin history was not pretty. Relocating Gringotts would not be easy and convincing them would be harder than trying to tame a Nundu!
"One step at a time, Mum," he replied grimly. "We can deal with goblins later. But I have something else for you that needs immediate attention."
"Oh?"
Harry took a deep breath. "I've found out something you're not going to like. What do you know about Muggle-borns living in Muggle orphanages?"
"Not much," frowned Amelia. "It doesn't fall under the purview of my department. Wizarding Children Services handle such matters, and they're an independent office. Why?"
"Daphne and I spent the last five days touring the various Muggle orphanages all over the British Isles," Harry answered softly. "And what we found wasn't pretty. There are over a thousand abused magical children living there, unnoticed by the Ministry."
Amelia did not miss the raw anger that Harry was displaying. Was such a situation really overlooked?
"Go on," she said slowly. Amelia listened to Harry's report for the next hour. They finished dinner and adjourned to her study, and by the end of his tale, she too was furious.
"Why hasn't this been reported?"
"Do you think people like Cornelius Fudge or his predecessors cared?" he shot back. "Look what happened to Tom Riddle. He begged Dumbledore to let him stay at Hogwarts during the holidays, but the sanctimonious old goat believed that Riddle had to get over his hatred for Muggles and sent him back to the orphanage! The same orphanage where Riddle had been raised during the Muggle Second World War! When the city was being bombed! Maybe Dumbledore was not aware of the extent of the abuse, but he should have at least done something! He was the deputy headmaster; it was his duty to act when his students come to him for help. Unfortunately, he didn't. He never trusted Tom Riddle and didn't want him at Hogwarts during the summer months, which is understandable, but that inaction led to the rise of Lord Voldemort. Tell me, what did Dumbledore do later when he was elected as Chief Warlock? When he knew of the problem and didn't do anything, do you honestly think the bigoted purebloods who dominated the Wizengamot at the time would lift a finger?"
Amelia took deep breaths to calm herself. Her son was right. She grabbed a sheet of parchment and a self-inking quill. "You and Daphne spoke to those children, didn't you?" she asked curiously. "What did you tell them?"
He paused. "We told them that we would get them out of the clutches of those Muggle caregivers in a few weeks. Is it possible to push a bill through in that short time?"
"A few years ago, it would have been impossible, but today, that's not the case. We do pull quite a few strings in the Wizengamot, Harry. Let's get the salient points of this bill out of the way. I'll get the D.M.L.E. lawmakers to draft the bill that can be tabled before the Wizengamot next week."
Harry mentally smiled as the two of them discussed the provisions of the new bill pertaining to magical orphans.
Stage two of his plan was underway.