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The Daring Win	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 8178 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 20
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Chapter Twenty-One—The Brat of a Child
“You are to tell me the minute you’re uncomfortable, Harry.” Dolores arranged the collar of his robes, stepped back, and considered the effect in the mirror. It was all right, but not perfectly desirable. She smoothed her fingers over it again. “You are to tell me if you think Lucius might be trying to enchant you.”
“Or you or Sirius, right?” Harry met her eyes in the mirror, and Dolores found it splendidly difficult to look away.
Dolores nodded. Lupin would be staying behind, not least because he didn’t have even Malfoy’s shadow of a claim to legal guardianship of Harry. “We can’t afford to let him gain an advantage because we weren’t paying attention.”
“I’ll tell you, don’t worry.” Harry’s hand found her hand and squeezed, and Dolores realized that she had been waiting for that reassurance. She frowned at herself. Was she the adult or the child? “Now, shouldn’t we go, Miss Dolores? We don’t want to be late for the Wizengamot, and it’s almost time.”
It was indeed, Dolores confirmed with a fast glance at the clock. She ushered Harry out of the dressing room with a hand on his back, and was immediately greeted with Sirius’s whine. “Why do I have to wear these clothes? Why does Harry? We’re trying to convince them that he’s a brat, right? Well, they’re going to take one look at those dress robes and think that he’s perfectly fine.”
Dolores ignored the way Sirius yanked on the collar of his dress robes. A ruffle in Sirius’s appearance wouldn’t discredit her as much “Harry has his own plans for that,” she said. She let her hand rest on Harry’s head, not heavily enough to disorder his hair. “Ready?”
“No.”
Ignoring Sirius, Dolores waited until Harry held her eyes and nodded with grave confidence. Then she aimed him at the door, and walked him to it, ignoring the way Lupin called good wishes from upstairs and Sirius immediately complained to him. Her mind was ranging over the hour ahead, in which Harry would need to take the leading role for the first time since she’d gained custody of him.
He had to do it, of course. His plan was good, and relied on Malfoy believing that he was the greatest brat and liability to walk the face of the earth. Dolores had presented herself as a civilizing and restraining influence. Too many would sit back and relax if she pressed forwards.
But it was hard. She knew Harry was brilliant. She had to count on that genius manifesting exactly when and where it counted, though. And children weren’t known for their sense of appropriateness.
“I’m here, Miss Dolores.”
Dolores started and looked down. Harry gave her a little smile as he bowed her to the Apparition point, exactly the way Lucius would bow to his wife, she thought.
“I’m here. And I’ll do things right. And you’re okay. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Dolores only nodded, because no other response would be appropriate right now, and because she was struggling to deal with the realization flooding her.
The realization that she might be raising someone who could surpass her in strength.
*
The Wizengamot courtroom was more crowded than last time. Dolores wasn’t sure if that was because Lucius had provided more advance notice for this trial than the one that confronted Dolores with Dumbledore or if more people were there to testify for the Malfoys’ suitability as guardians.
There was nothing to be gained in staring around like a frightened rabbit, though, and a great deal to be lost, so Dolores simply fixed her gaze on the far door and moved across the room as if it was Harry’s school study. She ended up settled, comfortably enough, at the edge of the small circle they were keeping for witnesses’ seats.
“Madam Umbridge.”
That was a wizard Dolores had never seen before, in the heavy formal robes of the Wizengamot, bowing before her. Dolores bowed her head back. It was an appropriate gesture whether he was an ally or an enemy.
“My name is Ernest Bolton,” he said, and held out his hand. Dolores shook it. It was long, thin, and pale, with carefully-trimmed fingernails. That said pure-blood, but Dolores didn’t recognize the last name, which probably put him among the ranks of respected half-bloods with magical mothers. “I wanted to tell you that I admire how you’ve been raising young Mr. Potter.”
Dolores blushed and simpered, the way she knew would work best. “But, Mr. Bolton, we’ve never met, and the questioning hasn’t begun yet. You can’t possibly have enough information to give me a favorable opinion yet!”
“I can see what’s in front of my eyes. And just look at that boy.”
Dolores did, although she wasn’t sure what she would say. It was only Harry standing and talking calmly with Sirius, though. “I’m not sure what you mean, Mr. Bolton.”
“He walks as though he’s confident now, Nothing like the way he was the last time in here, when he cringed, if I’m to be frank. And we need someone to have confidence if they’re really going to grow up to save us all.”
Dolores blinked. She hadn’t thought anyone would see it that way, but she supposed they could, if they both accepted Dumbledore’s word that Harry was a savior and thought of such leadership as political.
“Well, thank you, Mr. Bolton,” she said shyly, keeping her eyes cast down. “I’ve tried with him. But…well…it depends on one’s tolerance for children, you know.”
“He seems like a well-behaved child to me.”
She would have to navigate this delicately, if they were to avoid people like Bolton thinking she was a terrible guardian and yet assist Harry’s deception. “I’ve been telling him the truth in bits,” she said, and bit her lip a little. “I’m afraid that what I’ve told him has increased his confidence, but had a few side-effects, too.”
Bolton obviously opened his mouth to ask about side-effects, but Minister Bagnold made noise with the aid of her wand to her throat. Bolton nodded to her and strode away to his seat. Dolores made a mental promise to herself to find out how important he was.
“If we could sit, please.” Minister Bagnold was looking around with slightly squinting eyes, her expression pleasant but firm. Dolores folded her robes close around her knees as the other Wizengamot members took their chairs, giving her doubtful looks and shakes of their head as they went.
Well, not all were hostile. And if some of them had the same perceptions as Bolton, then they’d succeed at least with them.
Harry sank into his seat, his arms folded and a scowl darkening his face. Dolores didn’t smile, because she had seen him practice it at home. But she saw a few of the Wizengamot members exchange either questioning or wondering glances.
Sirius, of course, was still standing with his hands locked on the back of his chair, and a scowl planted on his face. “I want to ask something, Minister. If we’re meeting to see whether Malfoy should get custody, why don’t you ask me?”
“Because you are not Harry’s legal guardian,” said Bagnold, with a faint inclination of her head that Sirius might interpret as a bow if he was stupid. Dolores found herself debating whether he was that stupid, and was annoyed to realize that she really didn’t know. “That is simple enough. Now—”
“But you should still ask me if I approve of the Malfoys taking Harry.”
Dolores could see the moment when Bagnold reached the decision that it was simpler to indulge Sirius than hold up the discussion for much longer. With a faint sigh, she said, “All right, Mr. Black, how do you feel about it?”
“I hate it.” Sirius turned his head and stared at Lucius, who only looked down on him with a faint, serene expression of amusement. “The only thing I can see in their favor is that they have a son Harry’s age. Otherwise, they’re horrible candidates. Lucius is an accused former Death Eater!”
“Until recently, Mr. Black, so were you.”
Sirius ignored that better than Dolores would have thought him able to, although his eyes flashed in response. “And Lucius and my cousin Narcissa are, well, quiet people. They don’t have the experience to handle a child like Harry.”
“What do you mean by that?” Minister Bagnold’s eyebrows were almost at her hairline.
Sirius waved a hand at Harry in what looked like mock despair, at least to Dolores, and sat back down. But she could see the satisfied glint in his eyes, and had to nod despite herself. This made an excellent lead-in to the tactic Harry had planned.
Harry stood up, his arms folded, and his lips jutting out. “I can be quiet. But I don’t like Mr. Malfoy. I don’t like Mrs. Malfoy. I don’t want to be placed there.”
“I’m afraid that sometimes, what children want doesn’t come into the matter,” said Lucius, in a voice that was as soft as winter and which he probably thought would work. “We are trying to decide on the best guardian for you, not the one you like best, Mr. Potter.”
“But the one I want is Miss Dolores!”
Harry let his voice soar into a shrill note Dolores had never heard from him, and had had no idea he was capable of. She managed to keep sitting still and keep her hands folded in her lap by sheer force of will, as if he did this every day.
Harry tilted his head and made himself flush red, and suddenly Dolores knew who he was imitating: the awful Muggle cousin he had told her about more than once.
“Want Miss Dolores, want Miss Dolores, want Miss Dolores—”
“You must see that whining will not get you what you want, Mr. Potter,” said Lucius, wincing a bit. “You must go to the guardian who will protect you and train you and give you the most attention. She has not done that, since she permits you to go on like this.” He cast Dolores a narrow glance.
Dolores didn’t stand, didn’t speak, by means of another supreme effort of will. This had always been the weakest point in Harry’s plan, she thought. Lucius could twist words into weapons; it was a survival skill in the Wizengamot. He might easily twist Harry’s into something that would allow him to “adopt” Harry.
“I think there’s something to that,” said Bagnold, even though she sounded apologetic about it. “Not even famous children can get what they want all the time, Mr. Potter. And if Madam Umbridge could get control of your house-elves and property, then she can yield it again. I’m sure Mr. Malfoy would let you visit her sometimes, if you like.”
Harry folded his arms harder and looked as if he might start to send smoke spinning through his ears like the victim of a Pepper-Up Potion. Dolores watched him cautiously. She didn’t know if he could turn this around.
“WANT MY HOUSE-ELVES! WANT MISS DOLORES! WANT MY OWN BOOKS, AND SIRIUS, AND MY BLANKETS, AND MY TOYS, AND MY PRIVATE ROOM, AND MY EXTRA TOYS—”
Bagnold cast a Sonorus Charm on her throat and tried to shout above the noise, but all that happened was Harry yelling harder and harder. Dolores didn’t shove her hands into her ears. She shook her head sadly when Bolton glanced her way, though, and spread her arms as if to ask what she could do.
Lucius finally slumped back into his seat, looking exhausted and disgusted. Harry stopped yelling at the same moment. From the way he panted a little, Dolores thought he might actually have hurt his throat, and promised herself she would check that as soon as they got home.
And it seemed possible they would be going back to the same house, now.
Before Bagnold or Lucius could speak again, Bolton cast his own Sonorus. His voice sounded calm and sensible. “I wonder if we might reconsider, honored members of the Wizengamot? I’ve seen Mr. Malfoy’s son, and he’s very calm and quiet.”
Lucius whirled around. “What’s that got to do with it?”
“Only this. I’m not sure that you have the resources or the patience to cope with a loud and spoiled child, Lucius.” Bolton waved his hand at Harry. “I think it’s more likely that he’ll corrupt your son than the other way around.”
Lucius might have been chewing a spicy pickle. “I can handle him! Better than his current guardian has!”
“And what would you do if he started yelling?” Bolton sounded interested.
“A good dose of the Spanking Charm—”
“But his Muggle relatives abused him.” Bolton turned with his hand splayed out to the rest of their audience. “Do we really want to send Harry Potter back to that?”
There was a sharp wash of interested murmuring from that rest of the audience, and Dolores found herself smiling. Not a tactic I would have thought to use, but more valuable for that. It seemed Bolton had decided that he would be their ally even though he didn’t know much about them.
“I would never abuse—”
“Not on purpose,” said Bolton, in a soothing way that made Lucius’s mouth pinch up. Dolores had never been more tempted to laugh, and she was grateful that she had already controlled her emotional reactions today; it made it easier to wrestle with this one. “But I do think that you might replicate the influences of Mr. Potter’s Muggle environment without knowing what you did. Such punishments might work for a child raised in the wizarding world, but not one in Mr. Potter’s unique situation.”
“How can you justify leaving custody with Umbridge?” Lucius spat. “When she has turned him into this?”
“Now, I don’t think she did. I think it was probably the Muggles that turned him into this. Right, Madam Umbridge?”
Dolores sighed and nodded. “We’re working on it. You should have seen him the first weeks. Raging in a way that nearly ripped the house down with accidental magic once or twice.” She shuddered. “There was a reason we had to move into the Potter house, you know. Stronger wards and walls.”
“And you do not yet have him under control?”
Dolores met Lucius’s eyes evenly. “I have prioritized other things than control, Mr. Malfoy. Getting Harry up to speed on wizarding politics and the people who might want to hurt him, for example.”
Lucius’s eyes were slits a snake might envy, but he said nothing for the moment. It was Bagnold who spoke up, sounding relieved. “Is it true that you might be able to convince Mr. Potter to abandon his temper tantrums like this, Madam Umbridge?”
“I thought I had,” said Dolores in a mournful tone. “He hadn’t had any outbursts like this for a week. And then, when he realized that he might be taken away from a home he’s grown to like…” She held out her hands.
“DON’T WANNA!” Harry added, helpfully.
Lucius flinched again. Dolores could see him make the connection in his mind, between the vulgarity of Harry’s behavior and having to deal with it if he actually managed to secure custody.
And he would never agree not to use Spanking Charms, or live in the Potter home, or whatever other measures the Wizengamot thought might ease such a transition. That left him rather stuck.
“Of course, if we leave him in Madam Umbridge’s care, I’m sure that she will try to make him calmer and more worthy of the important position he holds in the wizarding world,” said Bolton persuasively.
“She will have to.” Lucius, spiteful. “At the moment, he’s not fit to lead a herd of cattle.”
Sirius lifted his head and stared straight at Lucius. Dolores saw the way his eyes gleamed with the desire for revenge, and sighed. Now she would have to watch him sharply, along with so many other things at once.
“Well, we can disagree about what he is and what he’ll become,” said Bagnold, in her best soothing voice. “For the moment, Madam Umbridge, do you think Harry will calm down if you tell him that he’ll be going back home?”
Dolores nodded and moved over to kneel in front of Harry. He still had his arms folded and seemed to be forcing his face to turn redder and redder. Dolores was relieved that he had been clever enough to keep the act up even after they seemed to be safe.
“Harry. What if you can come with me? Will that make you happy?”
“My toys,” Harry said, in a high-pitched whining tone that put Dolores’s teeth right on edge. “And my kitten. Will I have my kitten?”
Dolores raised her eyebrows in a little arch that would tell Harry, or should, that she was nearing the end of her patience, but nodded. “Of course. Pardus can come with us no matter where you go.”
“Pardus?” she thought she heard Lucius say derisively, but luckily, Harry had decided that he could calm down without losing face. He beamed at her and threw his arms around her waist before she could brace herself for it.
“You’re the best guardian in the world, Miss Dolores!”
As Dolores stroked his hair and watched the sour expressions on the face of Lucius and his allies, she decided that it seemed, oddly, as if Harry believed it, and wasn’t just saying it for the sake of the crowd.
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The Daring Win