Sirius peered at Dumbledore intently. "I knew it was bad, Albus, but this I didn't know. What is he doing?"
"Fudge is, unfortunately, a passable peacetime Minister, but he is wholly unsuited to leading us during times of war," Dumbledore responded. "He has declared it impossible for Voldemort to have returned and has spent the past several weeks trying to erode my support in the Wizengamot and the ICW, completely refusing to increase the Auror force, freeze the assets of known Death Eaters, or do anything else useful, for that matter. We stand on the brink of war—only Voldemort's need to gather his strength has prevented his taking over the Ministry already."
"And the Wizengamot? Is there nothing that can be done by the legislative arm of the government?"
"Unfortunately, Wizengamot is paralyzed by opposing factions and is largely controlled by the Purebloods in any case—you know where their sympathies, if not outright support, will lie in the coming conflict, Sirius."
And Sirius did know all too well. In the past war, although only an ultraconservative few openly supported Voldemort, their leanings were evident. The powerful Pureblood faction was interested primarily in three things—protecting their power base, preserving their blood purity, and growing their wealth. The other faction to rival them could no longer be called true Pureblood because of their willingness to marry outside the core Pureblood society and were made up of families like the Potters—old, powerful, and rich, but to purists, they were tainted by the Muggleborn dregs of society, or Halfbloods, which were not much better.
Knowing, however, that the balance of power in Wizengamot was not the pressing issue, Sirius turned his attention back to the Headmaster, his mind playing with thoughts and half-made plans for his godson's future. Whether he had consciously considered the potential for magical Britain to become an unfriendly environment for Harry he did not know, but he had considered leaving the country for other reasons—notably due to his distaste for a society which had locked him away in a hellish dungeon without caring about the truth.
"What about Harry, Albus? Is there any way to salvage this?"
"My influence has been lessened in Wizengamot, but not eliminated. I was able to defer Harry's expulsion pending a hearing on the matter."
"That's all good and well, Albus, but Wizengamot does not sound like a friendly environment for Harry right now. What are his chances?"
"Difficult to say," Dumbledore responded, his hands held together, his fingers steepled in front of his face as he thought the matter through. "I was able to carry the day based on a sense of fairness—when I informed Wizengamot of the spell Harry cast and the reason for it, even some of the Pureblood faction felt it wise to hear him out on the matter in lieu of summarily pronouncing sentence, due in part because the thought of Dementors anywhere they are not supposed to be is of great concern to all, regardless of political leanings. I believe I still hold enough support to ensure Harry's exoneration, but it may be a near thing."
Sirius slumped back in his chair, regarding Dumbledore, trying to get a sense of his confidence level. "Albus, this is Harry we are talking about here. I don't know why Voldemort is coming after him with such single-mindedness, but I do know if Harry's wand is snapped, he's an easy target. We have to be certain we can ensure his freedom before we commit to this. Once you take him into the Ministry for a hearing, our course is set—if he is convicted, they will snap his wand and bind his magic right there. Are you certain you can persuade them?"
"Alas, my dear boy, nothing is ever certain," Dumbledore replied, rising to his feet. "But I believe in the ultimate rightness of our cause and that we will carry the day."
"Albus, perhaps it's time to remove Harry from England."
His voice was quiet, yet controlled, and his statement caused Dumbledore to blink in surprise and sink back into his seat, a look of contemplation etched on his face. However, he was not known as a powerful wizard and shrewd political opponent for nothing—he immediately recovered and regarded Sirius carefully.
"What are you suggesting, Sirius?"
"The political situation is no longer favorable for Harry here, if it ever was," Sirius replied regarding Dumbledore intently, making certain the other man knew through his body language exactly how serious he was. "I think the time has come to remove him from this society for his own good."
"And where would you take him?"
"Does it really matter? Anywhere would be preferable to here. We could relocate somewhere on the other side of the world, hire some tutors to complete his education—hell, I could help him complete the core subjects myself."
Dumbledore appeared lost in thought for several moments before focusing back on Sirius once again. He had a hint of the lecturing Headmaster in his manner, and Sirius felt like he was back in Hogwarts being taken to task for some prank. He had to admit to himself, somewhat ruefully, that although they had rarely been able to prove his complicity, more often than not, it had been he and his friends who had been the perpetrators of what had gone on in those hallowed halls.
"I believe your idea has two problems, Sirius. First, young Harry himself; he has made friends—very close friends—at Hogwarts, and I doubt you could convince him to leave them to Voldemort's tender mercies while he himself escaped to relative safety."
It was true—Sirius had not thought about that aspect of Harry's character. In that, he was very much his father's son.
"And the other?"
"Suppose we followed your plan and you moved with Harry to another country… then what?"
"I'm not certain I follow you…" Sirius responded uncertainly.
"Just this: if you were to go away from Britain, you may be safe for several years or even decades, but what happens once England becomes too small to contain the Dark Lord?"
To say Sirius was surprised was an understatement. "You aren't suggesting Voldemort will win!"
"I'm not suggesting it, Sirius, I am guaranteeing it. I believe Harry will have an integral part to play in Voldemort's ultimate defeat and he cannot do it if he is hidden away on some tropical island somewhere, drinking piña coladas and surfing."
Sirius regarded the Headmaster, his disbelief turning to a shrewd idea Dumbledore was holding back.
"You know something, Albus."
"Indeed I do," Dumbledore agreed with aplomb. "Now, however, is not the time to discuss this any further."
"Albus, he's my godson—I have to know."
"Rest assured, Sirius, in time I will tell you all I know. But the conversation must be deferred for another time—for now, I have some other tasks which cannot be delayed. Although we may have no other recourse but to flee from England at some future time, the situation has not become that desperate yet—we have no other option but to continue to play the game in the hope of turning it in our favor. Young Harry has a destiny which he must fulfill for the good of the wizarding world—and indeed the world at large. I had hoped to delay the inevitable to give the young man some time to grow and mature, but it appears events have conspired against us and our time is now dwindling."
"I will have an accounting, Albus," Sirius growled in response. Although Dumbledore was a powerful wizard and excellent leader, he had a tendency to be secretive and at times viewed those around him as mere chess pieces. This time, however, Sirius would ensure he understood what Harry was facing and would face it by his side. He owed it to James; he owed it to himself.
"I understand, Sirius. I promise to give you a full accounting, but for now I must leave you."
Dumbledore moved to the Floo powder and grabbed a handful of it. But before he went through, he turned back to Sirius.
"I will arrange to have Harry evacuated from the Dursley house and brought here. The situation there may now have become untenable in any case—they were incensed that Dudley's proximity to Harry resulted in the threat to his life and have demanded Harry's immediate removal, never to return."
"They won't do anything to him, will they?"
"Not at this time," Dumbledore confirmed. "I have informed his uncle we will be looking for alternate housing arrangements for the rest of the summer, but his removal will have to be handled with delicacy and kept from the knowledge of certain elements in the Ministry."
"I will inform Kreacher to prepare for an influx of guests."
"Be prepared for anything—the world is about to become a much darker place."
With that ominous pronouncement, Dumbledore disappeared into the Floo Network leaving Sirius alone with his thoughts.
Although he was worried about Harry's state of mind in the aftermath of the Dementors' attack, he knew of his godson's capabilities and was confident Harry would emerge unscathed from the experience. The more pressing concern was Dumbledore's words regarding Harry's destiny and the immediate threat of punishment. If Dumbledore could not convince Wizengamot to acquit Harry or at least agree he had acted in self-defense, then what? Could he possibly take the chance of failure? Was there anything he could do?
A grim yet determined smile crossed Sirius's face, as he considered that he did indeed have another option. It had fallen literally out of the sky onto his lap the previous spring while he was searching through some of James's old family documents, partially to determine if James had left anything behind which would be of use to his son, partially in a vain attempt to find some way to remove Harry from the Tri-Wizard competition. His search had led him to a most startling document which had the power to change Harry's life and bring him some desperately-needed allies. Although those plans were still some months away, they could be accelerated—had to be accelerated in order to be of use to his godson in the immediate future.
A twinge of guilt made itself known in Sirius's conscience, understanding as he did this revelation had the power to turn Harry's life upside-down and that it had far-reaching consequences for not only his godson, but also for a particular friend of his. Yet, it was obvious to Sirius that anything which could be done must be done for Harry's sake—he would never be able to live with himself if he left even one arrow in the quiver and the situation went wrong. But it would not do to tell Dumbledore at this stage—he would find out when everyone else did.
His mind made up, Sirius turned and stalked down the hallway to his room on the second floor. He simply could not chance failure—too much depended on this, especially if Dumbledore's words about Harry's importance to Voldemort's ultimate defeat were to be believed. Although Sirius could not do much to help his godson in his current situation, perhaps others could.
In his room, he rummaged around on the old oak desk in the corner, finding the device for which he had been searching, and activated the old communication mirror he and the other Marauders had created many years ago to keep in touch during the summer. Of course, that had not been the only use to which they had put the mirrors, Sirius thought with a smile—their pranking value had been incalculable.
A moment later, a face appeared in the mirror. "Sirius, so good to see you," the man began, his face lighting up in a friendly smile. "What can I do for you?"
His voice was soft yet melodious and deep; his accent, while present, was understated and almost unnoticeable, unless one was paying attention to it. He was an austere yet handsome sort of man, powerful in his own right and eminently competent, and although they had only been acquaintances for a few months, Sirius already considered him an ally and a potential friend. Sirius had contacted him upon finding the document, and the other man, to his credit, had listened to Sirius's protestations of innocence when even his own countrymen would not. A short visit and a dose of Veritaserum later, he had also been convinced of Sirius's innocence and had begun to plan for his ultimate exoneration.
However, it was the contents of the documents upon which Sirius had come across which now held Sirius's interest. The documents were important in several ways and his companion had a stake in seeing that they were implemented, not to mention the fact that he felt he owed something to Harry because of his actions the previous year. If they played this right, they could ensure Harry's freedom and perhaps even tweak Fudge's nose in the process.
"Jean-Sebastian we need to speak—something has come up."
The man was silent for a moment. "I presume your news is not good?"
Sirius snorted. "That's an understatement. Harry was attacked by Dementors today outside his home. We need to accelerate our plans."
Jean-Sebastian's eyes burned with fury for several moments before he visibly calmed himself. "Your country appears to be making every effort to make Harry's life as difficult and dangerous as possible."
"Agreed. But I believe we can turn this around to our advantage."
"Well, then, I believe you must let me in on your plan," he said with an upturned eyebrow.
Sirius grinned in response and began to lay out the events of the day and his ideas for their response. They spent several hours in earnest conversation, planning, plotting, and determining their course of action. That night, when Sirius finally lay down to rest, his face held a smile—he had done his best to help his godson. It was a good beginning.
In another country, several hundred miles away, a man deactivated his communication mirror and sat back in his high-backed chair, staring unseeing at the desk in front of him. The information Sirius had provided him had changed many things, and although he knew in his heart that what they were about to do was for the best, a part of him wondered if his assessment would be agreed upon by others who would be affected by this decision. After all, some of those others would have to bear the major portion of the consequences of his actions—not himself.
Sighing, he leaned forward and rested his chin in his hand, brooding over the unfairness of the world. The temptation to simply write the whole situation off as a purely British problem was there, but he knew that to take such a myopic stance would do more harm than good in the end. The current future in the beleaguered country was bleak with a newly-reconstituted Voldemort running amok and the Ministry doing little to prepare for a protracted fight. No, the future of England and perhaps the whole world lay with one young man, a man he had just pledged to help, whether it was deemed his responsibility or not.
Then of course there was the personal debt he owed Harry Potter, one which Jean-Sebastian was not about to forget or conveniently push under the carpet. He owed Harry Potter—owed him his every effort and entire ability to protect.
Knowing there was really no other choice, Jean-Sebastian sighed and called for his house-elf assistant. There was much to be accomplished.