Amelia watched the chamber breathe out and settle. Benches creaked, rings found rails again, and quills steadied. Corvus Black slid into his place with the small black box in one hand and his wand across one knee. The chick inside peeped once, a thin ember under ash. Her own Aurors stood ringed along the walls, faces tight, eyes on her. She could still feel the hole where her reaction should have been. Four benches were shielded in a blink, and not by her team. Training would change before the week ended.
Across the floor Arcturus Black sat very still, jaw set as if stone had grown there overnight. When the last whisper died, he turned his head to her. One word, iron flat. "Report."
A ripple of cold ran through the room. Amelia kept her posture and spoke for the record. "Attack by a recused party with an Unforgivable in full session. Attempted murder. Flight attempt through a familiar interrupted. Suspect secured and wand impounded. Lord Rosier raised shields that contained collateral risk and protected the dais and benches. No fatalities. Several stunners were discharged from the Progressive side during the scramble." She let it sit where all could hear the weight. "Had the curse been Fiendfyre, we would not be here."
Arcturus did not blink. "Result," he repeated.
She lifted a parchment and read. "Any who raised wands against Auror command is detained for charge and hearing. Seven in total. Names recorded: Griselda Marchbanks, Elphias Doge, Tiberius Ogden, and four others under custody until their statements are taken." She gave the signal. Red bands were lit around wrists and ankles. Aurors moved. Protests rose and died when more wands angled down from the walls. The visitors' bench kept its distance. Rita Skeeter's quill scratched without pause. This was a monumental moment, history in the making.
Arcturus inclined his chin once. "Proceed with the results of your investigation, Director Bones." He leaned back without relaxing. Never again. He will not be caught off guard again. At the end of this session, he would arrange for select candidates from members of the Alliance to enter service of the Ministry. Auror recruitment would accelerate, especially from that pool.
Amelia opened the folder and set the first sheet on the lectern. "Department file: Potter custodianship. Source materials include Gringotts ledgers under seal, Department of Magical Child Welfare logs, school and medical records from Surrey. Sworn statements taken under my command, including results of Legilimency application on one Arabella Figg, a Squib placed there by the accused, Albus Dumbledore. The Muggle household where Heir Potter spent the last decade, was that of Lily Potter née Evans's sister. They abhor magic and wizardkin. Heir Potter's childhood was, at best, comparable to that of an abused house elf. Muggle officials at his school confirmed repeated bruising and other evidence of physical abuse. This is corroborated by reports from the school nurse," to clarify the post, she added. "A Muggle healer."
--
The chamber had a hard time absorbing what it was hearing. Frank Longbottom was one of them. Alice was Harry's godmother, and Sirius was his godfather. He remembered James telling him about the will. The thought of that little child getting abused never crossed his mind. Not even once. Yet now he shivered, what would have happened if his mother was not there to take care of Neville.
A murmur ran along the Neutrals. Lord Abbott folded his hands and listened without blinking. On the Traditionalist rail, Lord Travers watched like a hawk at dusk, still and patient. His mind had already begun to calculate the aftereffects, especially on the ICW's side. Across from them the Progressives held a tight silence, heads together, eyes cutting to Amelia's desk and then to Corvus and Arcturus in turn. None of them looked at the small box in Corvus's hand.
Amelia handed the reports to the clerk. The woman nodded and took them to the registrar. "Count one." Started to read Amelia. "Prevention of the reading of the last will and testament of James Charlus Potter and Lily Potter née Evans, contrary to statute. Evidence, Gringotts' notification logs unacknowledged by the then Chief Warlock. Evidence, Ministry courier records returned after three denied attempts at Hogwarts." Quills moved all around. The dicta quill kept its crisp line.
"Count two. Unlawful interference with guardianship. Evidence, the Department of Magical Child Welfare shows no petition or grant of custody to any party. No magical adoption. The child was placed at a Muggle address with no Ministry oversight."
She did not soften the next line. Some in the room did not deserve comfort. "Count three. Endangerment of a magical minor by placement in a hostile home. Evidence, school nurse records, neighbour statements, and sworn statements from two DMLE legilimencers under oath, extracted from the memories of Arabella Figg. A Squib, who reported monthly to Albus Dumbledore. Details of neglect and abuse were included and ignored by both ends."
A breath hissed along the benches. Lord Selwyn's fingers tightened once on the rail, then eased. Corvus did not move. Only his thumb tapped once on the lid of the box and stilled.
"Count four. Alteration of Ministry records to mask custodial status and block routine oversight. Evidence, log entries with falsified author keys and backdated stamps traced to the Chief Warlock's office by analysis and wand signature."
She turned a page. "Count five. Misuse of office. Directing Ministry staff to stand down routine checks while citing special authority from the Chief Warlock's office, which does not cover subject case."
On the far bench, a Progressive lord cleared his throat and thought better of it when half a dozen Aurors turned their heads as one. The room had learned the new weather.
"Count six. Conversion from the Potter vault. Evidence, key custody changes recorded at Gringotts. Withdrawals done through vault keys, illegally held and used. The pattern is consistent with non custodial use. The Bank has supplied a certified ledger declaration of the chain and amount." She did not add the goblin's name. Anyone in the room could guess it belonged to the Potters' account manager.
Amelia paused for water. Her hand stayed steady. "Remedy requests, preliminary. Order the immediate suspension of any titles resting on the contested acts. Freeze movements from the Potter vault until the will is read in full and an executor named. Issue a warrant for the arrest of any person who knowingly abetted these acts."
Arcturus gave a small nod. The Neutrals watched him, gauging the line he would draw. He did not hide the line. "The law will run its course."
Frank sat forward on the dais, jaw tight, eyes on the folder. The posture said enough. He had lived the cost of pretty speeches and soft hands. He did not intend to let anyone else to live it again.
Amelia lifted the top sheet and set it aside. "For the record, the Department notes Heir Potter's condition as unknown since September. We recommend a full diagnostic evaluation at St Mungo's and that custody be suspended until the will is read."
A stir at the door. The last of the seven detainees was marched out under escort. The clerk logged the time. The orbs brightened a fraction as if the room itself leaned closer. Skeeter's quill never stopped.
Arcturus turned his gaze to Bones. "Issue the warrants, The will to be read in this chamber and freeze the vaults. The Muggles…" He paused. "I want them in Ministry cells."
She signed three forms in clean strokes and handed them to Scrimgeour. "Carry it out without delay. Use full array protocols."
Robards bowed from the waist and moved. The Aurors opened a path. The sound of their boots on stone rang like a seal pressed into wax.
Amelia faced the benches again. "The Department calls Senior Auror Robards and Chief Curse Breaker Whitfoot for testimony. After them, Gringotts' sworn declarant will be heard on the record." She closed the folder for a beat and rested both palms on the wood. "Until then, the floor will remain in order."
No one missed the warning. Not this time.
--
Across the country doors opened to quiet knocks and closed on the same calm hands. Warrants carried an old crest. Aurors worked in pairs. Obliviators waited nearby for the muggles.
At Grunnings, Vernon Dursley filled the doorway of his glassed office, one meaty hand on a sales chart that did not belong to him. The inked lines climbed anyway. A knock. The blonde from reception leaned in with a smile that never reached her eyes. A client wished to discuss a bulk order.
Vernon smoothed his tie. The good tie. He adjusted the knot as if it might raise his pay. "Send him in."
Rufus Scrimgeour crossed the carpet with the tired gait of a man who worked in storms. "Mr Dursley." A dry hand, a look that weighed and measured.
Vernon squeezed and chuckled. "Yes, yes. Call me Vernon please. What can I do for..."
Blue sparks snapped from Scrimgeour's sleeve cuff. The door clicked shut. The air softened under a Muffle charm. Two plain robed figures dropped Disillusionment like water. Wands at low ready.
Vernon's jaw worked once. "What is this?"
Scrimgeour held the gaze. "Department work." A touch to a palm sized disc made the office warp. The carpet turned to cold flagstone. A Ministry holding room settled around him like a cage. Vernon was still blinking.
Back at Grunnings, the blonde blinked at her calendar as two Obliviators stepped from the manager's door. A small tilt of a wand. The last five minutes slipped from her day.
In Little Whinging, a knock came to number four. Petunia Dursley opened with lips already pursed. The woman on the step presented a neat badge. "Parent Institute for Quality Education. A brief survey about Dudley Dursley's learning plan."
Petunia's face changed in a heartbeat. The brittle smile appeared. "Of course. Come in. Dudley is.."
A soft flash was followed by a thud. Petunia folded to the carpet, stunned before the sentence finished. A portkey coin tapped to her wrist. Blue hook and pull. Gone. The Auror crossed the hall, listened once. The thud of a heavy tread above. "Mum?"
"Down here, Mr Dursley."
Dudley tramped down with a scowl already prepared for the stranger in his hall. The scowl did not last. A second bolt. His bulk met the runner with a thump. A tag tied to his sleeve. Two bodies gone in twin pulls of portkey magic. The house sighed into silence.
Arabella Figg put down a saucer in her sitting room and scratched the ear of a thin cat that had adopted the chair. The knock made the cat start. The woman who stepped in wore Ministry grey.
"Mrs Figg."
Arabella's mouth pinched. "I have cats to feed."
"Someone else will see to them." A parchment slipped into a pocket. A touch to a bracelet. The room shed its occupant and kept the smell of cabbage.
At a kennel thick with barking, Marjorie Dursley turned from a ledger when the gate clanged. Two man in strange outfits stood beyond the wire. She drew herself up as if volume might make magic go away. "Private property."
One Auror glanced at the mastiffs. "No harm will come to them." A flick and her world went black.
Messages traveled on different roads. In a quiet kitchen, Alice Longbottom's tea cooled untouched as the fire flared green and Frank's voice came through. "Alice, hurry to the Ministry. Now." She did not ask why. Wand to wrist. Cloak to shoulders. A squeeze through the grate and the kitchen spun away.
At Grimmauld Place, Sirius paced a short line in the corridor outside the ritual room, jaw set, eyes brighter than health. Kreacher appeared with a crack and a thick envelope. "For useless Master Sirius" Spat the elf. His disdain for Sirius would need time to ease it seems.
Sirius worked the seal with a thumb. A single page. Four lines in Arcturus Black's neat hand. He leaned back to the wall and breathed once. "All right." A nod to the elf. "Tell him I'll be there shortly." Boots found the hall and the old house watched him go.
Under Diagon Alley, Gringotts kept its own hours and its own law. Griphook sat at a high desk with a ledger that hissed softly where ink dried. The missive from the Goblin Liaison Office lay open to his left. The seal had been cracked by the proper hand. The wording pleased him. Clear, terse and most importantly respectful.
Account Manager Griphook, Ministry requests full withdrawal log since October thirty first, nineteen eighty one, key custody chain and will of James Potter and any amendments, duly witnessed. Notices of guardianship filed or, as suspected, not filed.
He ran a claw along a column and let his mouth flatten. The request from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had arrived two weeks earlier with Amelia Bones' signature and the proper bonds. That had been rare. Most wizards tried to pull iron with words and left with splinters.
He lifted a thin box from the drawer and placed it beside the ledger. The 'New' Potter key gleamed within. Not a mark of wear that should have been there after other copies were disabled per request of the DMLE. He logged the last authorized vault entry by the Potters themselves. Then the quiet, years long pattern of small monthly withdrawals through a proxy. Amounts too regular to be anything but maintenance. Names attached where there should have been none. Gringotts has a deep memory.
A clerk paused at his elbow. "Shall I pull the will, Account Manager Tornhook?"
"Pull it. Original and certified copy. Check witness seals."
The clerk bowed and moved. Griphook turned a page and added a short note in a script only goblins used. Theft by interference with succession brought penalties. Compounded penalties if done by a public office. The treaties were clear. He hoped the humans would force the point to court. The bank did not enjoy being used as a purse for thieves.
He tied the Liaison packet with black cord and pressed a wax stamp. The tray filled with documents like a basin under a spring. He looked at the stack, then at the clock with its sober, unhuman hands. Plenty of time to be ready. Let the Ministry come with questions. The answers would be exact, and the reckoning would be priced.