Charlie's eyes lit up immediately. "Obviously, give us the juiciest news first!"
Douglas grinned mischievously. "On my mother's side, if you trace back five generations, Professor Dumbledore and I share the same great-great-great-grandfather."
Charlie blinked, exchanging a puzzled glance with Bill and Percy. "Is that really news? The wizarding world's so small, the Weasleys probably don't even need to go back five generations to be related to Dumbledore…"
Suddenly, Bill's face lit up with realization. "Wait, are you about to say that, going down a few generations, you're related to the Weasley family too? I remember we've got some Squib relatives living in the Muggle world.
Come on, tell us—are you my nephew, or my great-nephew…?"
Charlie chimed in, "What if we're his nephews or great-nephews?"
At that, Douglas felt his whole worldview shift. He did a quick calculation: if he acknowledged Harry as family, and Harry married Ginny, then Ginny would call him uncle, and call Bill 'brother'—which, rounding up, meant Bill and Charlie would also have to call him uncle…
The thought sent Douglas into a fit of laughter, leaving the three on the other end of the line completely baffled.
When they finally learned about Douglas's connection to Harry, they were momentarily stunned—but not all that surprised. In the wizarding world, unexpected relatives popped up all the time.
Even Dobby was hearing this for the first time, and he quickly clapped a hand over his mouth in astonishment.
After a bit more banter, Douglas considered telling them about Voldemort's Horcruxes, but decided against it for now. It wasn't a matter of trust—he'd simply had a new idea, and wanted to wait until he'd worked out the details before discussing it with Bill.
For the next several days, Douglas kept a close eye on the Daily Prophet. Ever since Dobby had learned of his boss's connection to Harry, he'd been itching to leap into action. But Douglas had to rein him in, reminding him to follow instructions and never use magic near Harry without permission—unless they fancied a trip to the Ministry of Magic.
Douglas himself wasn't idle. Now flush with points, he immediately bought a stack of reference books—beyond lightning magic, he focused on magical architecture. He was planning to build something like a magical tower beneath his house, a place to research spells undisturbed.
There was much to learn: runic arrays, spatial magic, theoretical frameworks, and how to integrate them with this world's magical systems to construct new defensive enchantments…
Not that the magic here was inferior to other worlds—on the contrary, the true genius of magical architecture in this world was concealment. Their spatial magic was truly unique.
Because of this, the Ministry kept a tight watch on spatial magic, especially magical buildings, which required Ministry approval to construct. Douglas intended to use magical theory from other worlds to sidestep Ministry surveillance entirely…
A week later, it wasn't just the Daily Prophet—even Muggle news outlets were buzzing with a headline:
[...The Ministry of Magic confirmed today that Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban. He is believed to be the most dangerous prisoner ever held at Azkaban. Minister Fudge has alerted the Muggle Prime Minister to the crisis...]
[...The public is advised that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hotline has been established—anyone who sees Black should report him immediately.]
Next to the story was a photo of a gaunt, wild-haired man—none other than Sirius Black. He looked nothing like the person Douglas had seen in Peter Pettigrew's memories.
As soon as he saw the news, Douglas called for Dobby, who was currently enjoying his allotted one hour of daily cleaning.
"Dobby, you've got a new mission."
Dobby glanced down at the rag in his hands, looking hesitant. "Master, I haven't finished yesterday's book yet…"
Douglas smiled. "Don't worry, this isn't a reading assignment—though you still need to keep up your studies.
I need you to spend your nights patrolling the five streets around Harry's current home. If you spot any strange, stray dogs, bring them to me.
And keep an eye on my cousin's house; if a woman moves in, let me know immediately. I think it's time for Harry and me to have a rather unique family reunion."
Dobby's eyes sparkled with excitement.
"Dobby… Harry… Master, that's wonderful! Dobby will complete this mission, no matter what!"
Douglas quickly calmed the overexcited elf, then handed him a magical binding rope he'd made himself from the dragon heartstring Charlie had given him.
"Listen carefully, Dobby. During this time, especially near Harry, you absolutely must not use any magic except Apparition, no matter what's happening to him. Don't interfere unless I say so.
If you find the dog, use this rope to tie him up and bring him back. Let me show you how it works."
For the next few days, Dobby was out all night, no matter how Douglas tried to persuade him to rest. The result: Dobby was so exhausted he started dozing off while reading during the day.
Dobby felt terribly wronged. He swore he could go three days without sleep and still not nod off while cleaning, but somehow, the books seemed to have their own magic—they always made him sleepy.
In the end, Douglas had to order him to stop working after midnight and get some proper rest.
Every night, Dobby returned with a stray dog in tow—but never the right one. Clearly, he didn't have the ability to recognize an Animagus.
But that wasn't even the most frustrating part. Each time Dobby returned, he delivered a detailed report on Harry's life:
"Dobby saw Harry Potter hiding under his blanket every night, doing homework by torchlight. Dobby was almost spotted by an owl…"
"Dobby thinks Harry Potter is so pitiful—they won't let him leave the house…"
"Dobby… Harry Potter…"
Now, every time Douglas saw Dobby, the first thing that popped into his mind was Harry Potter.
Before he could get any news from the outside, he received a letter from Professor McGonagall—along with the first edition of the Defence Against the Dark Arts practice book, Seven Years of N.E.W.T.s, Five Years of O.W.L.s.
Dear Douglas,
I'm delighted to inform you that the Wizarding Examinations Authority has approved your suggestions, and they've now compiled a complete set of Seven Years of N.E.W.T.s, Five Years of O.W.L.s.
They'd like the Hogwarts professors to write some recommendations for the exam collection…
Professor Dumbledore sends his regards and asks after your well-being…
Douglas sniffed at the end. Clearly, old Dumbledore was still worried about whether he'd be able to return to school as usual.
He picked up the practice book and flipped through it carefully. Besides the usual past papers, they'd indeed added new questions—asking students about recent Ministry policies, which department to approach for particular issues, and even to list the Minister of Magic's virtues…
Some of these were genuinely practical; others were utter nonsense. From what Douglas knew of Fudge, the man was absolutely capable of this sort of thing.
After all, anyone who could nominate himself and then award himself the Order of Merlin, First Class, had to be shameless beyond belief.
P.S.:
The Order of Merlin, sometimes abbreviated as O.M., is awarded by the Wizengamot. The medal consists of a gold medallion with a ribbon in the appropriate color. Merlin was the most renowned wizard of his era, and the Order has been awarded since the fifteenth century in his honor. Legend has it that the green ribbon on the First Class medal represents Merlin's house at Hogwarts—Slytherin.
First Class is awarded for "particularly outstanding courage or talent" in magic, with a green ribbon.
Second Class is given for "notable achievement or effort," with a purple ribbon.
Third Class is awarded for "contributions to scholarship or entertainment," with a white ribbon.
🔥 Want to read the next 20 chapters RIGHT NOW?
💎 Patreon members get instant access!
⚡ Limited-time offer currently running...
👉 [Join on - patreon.com/GoldenLong]