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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.

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Chapter Twenty-Three—Dangerous, Too
As of yet, Dolores hadn’t come up with anything to do about Sirius.
He was so bright-eyed and laughing most of the time that she had almost begun to believe that she wouldn’t have to do anything. He ruffled Harry’s hair and waved Dolores off when she tried to tell him about their alliance with Ernest Bolton.
“You’re the one that matters to,” Sirius had said, lying out on his back in the grass with Harry beside him. Bright sun beamed down over them. Sirius had closed his eyes and seemed content to pretend he was Pardus, who lay, much more legitimately sun-bathing, next to Harry. “You’re the one who should set the terms of the alliance and deal with them. Leave me to relax.”
Dolores might have been reassured by that, except that she always remembered the look in his eyes when he had threatened Lucius Malfoy. His words had rambled the way they did half the time, but that look had been different.
As it was, however, Sirius didn’t do anything else that would distinguish him as political or dangerous while Dolores watched him. At last, Dolores acknowledged reluctantly that she would be better off putting the problem out of her mind and paying attention to other things instead.
*
Bolton was the one who brought her the news that Dumbledore was recovering his support in the Wizengamot.
“Not everyone,” he reassured her when Dolores opened her mouth to protest. They were sitting outside in the same part of the garden where Sirius brought Harry most of the time, but knowing Bolton was supposed to visit, Sirius had spirited Harry to Diagon Alley for the day. “And there’s no guarantee that he’ll be Head of the Wizengamot again any time soon. But there are people who are saying it’s understandable that he wanted custody of Mr. Potter.”
“They won’t give it back to him?”
“Not that I can tell. They’re saying it’s an understandable motive, not something everyone should forgive him for.”
Dolores nodded and studied her cup for a moment. “So we should be prepared for him to do something soon.”
“I don’t know about that.” Bolton took another sip of her wine, and sighed as a slight breeze ruffled his hair. “Dumbledore can play a long game. It’s the way he got power in the first place. Lots of people were watching after he defeated Grindelwald, you know, waiting for him to claim a place in the Wizengamot or demand some kind of reward. But he never did—he got the Order of Merlin First Class, of course, without demanding it—and then he went back to Hogwarts and started teaching again. When people asked him, he said the opportunity to influence future generations was enough.”
“Of course he did.” Dolores managed to refrain from rolling her eyes, but it was hard. “Did anyone ever stop to think just how he was influencing them?”
“People asked the question. Other people reassured them that of course Dumbledore’s influence was benign.”
“I suppose there’s no way of ousting him from Hogwarts before Harry attends.”
“Not that I know of.” Bolton leaned forwards. “But you could borrow elements of his game.”
“How?” Dolores knew she didn’t have half of Dumbledore’s charisma or his reputation, and as far as she could tell, that was what he built on. Well, that and native shrewdness. He had certainly never claimed immense wealth or pure blood.
“You could pretend that you don’t want excessive rewards for raising Harry in knowledge and acceptance of his birthright. You could say that whenever someone pays enough attention to you. But you go on saying it, and you go on raising Harry, and you go on granting interviews when enough people ask, and—”
“I have people respecting me because of my meekness and humility,” Dolores finished. It wasn’t a bad strategy, and it would work well with the one she had planned on already, being the power behind Harry’s throne.
Bolton nodded.
Dolores met his gaze directly. “I still have to know. Is Lucius Malfoy’s fall from grace enough of a reward for you from this? You’re spying on the Wizengamot for me and giving me free political advice.”
“What are a few conversations between friends?”
“Ernest.”
“All right,” Bolton said finally, after he had drained the cup. “The truth is that I think you’ll go far. I mean, for all I know someone would arise tomorrow and manage to attach themselves to Mr. Potter, but I don’t think it’s likely. And you do have a few things that pure-bloods will think are disadvantages.”
Dolores raised her eyebrows. “You think I can overcome those as far as they’re concerned?”
“Of course you can.” Bolton eyed her for a moment, then put his cup down on the table next to them, made of wood and inlaid with a curling silver leaf tendril. “Do you feel that inferior because you’re not pure of blood?”
Dolores felt her face burn. Still, a second later she said, “There are those who will always count it against me.”
“They’re fools. Tell me about your family.”
Dolores stared at him warily.
“I’m your ally, Dolores. If you can’t trust me, then you might as well dismiss me. And that means I’ll have to give up my vengeance and my hopes of being on your political team, and you’ll have to give up knowing about the Wizengamot and blocking Dumbledore as he gets ready to try to take custody of Mr. Potter away again.” Bolton actually tapped sharply on the table, making Dolores jump at the sound, almost as much as if he’d tapped on her knee. “There’s no reason for either of us to lose those advantages over something as silly as this, is there? Minister Bagnold will stand on your side regardless of your blood. And you needn’t fear that I’ll spread it around.”
At least, if he does, I’ll know exactly where the betrayal came from. Sirius could learn the same things, but he wouldn’t care to use them as a weapon.
Or maybe he would. Dolores hadn’t forgotten about the look in Sirius’s eyes when he threatened Lucius yet.
“My mother was a Muggle,” she finally said. “My father was—pure-blood, but a job so low-ranking that it couldn’t get him any higher. And that’s the truth.” She didn’t feel the need to tell him she had a sibling who was a Squib, not yet. That kind of thing was shameful even among the pure-bloods who didn’t care about Muggle heritage. She stared at Bolton hard. “Now what are you going to say?”
“I’m going to advise you, not just say something. And that’s to let this be known.”
Dolores laughed derisively.
“If it remains secret, or simply ignored, then someday one of our enemies will find out and use it against you.” Bolton was learning forwards, almost speaking in a whisper. “There are some who couldn’t, like Dumbledore, because his views on Muggles are too well-known and people would simply laugh at him trying to make others dislike you because of that. But there are some who could make it a weapon.”
“If I let it be known, then I’ll be despised.”
“Only by a few. You can make it into armor, into a weapon of its own.”
Dolores studied him skeptically. “And why?”
“Because you can use it to make you seem like a better guardian for Mr. Potter. You’re both half-bloods, and you both have a connection to the Muggle world. You both know what it’s like to be despised by the pure-bloods who consider themselves above you.”
“Even those pure-bloods will bow to Harry, you said.”
“Because of his fame. But what happens if You-Know-Who never returns, or there’s nothing Mr. Potter does later in life to prove that he’s as great as that? Their regard will fade. It’s only six years since it happened right now. The further away it gets…”
Dolores formed her hands into fists. “I think Dumbledore will always think he’s special.”
“And that’s something we should investigate. What exactly makes Dumbledore so desperate?” Bolton spread his hands. “But in the meantime, others who are not Dumbledore might start to murmur and question. Do you really want them to do that?”
Dolores was quiet, toying with her own cup. Now that Bolton had made his point, he seemed content to let her do it.
And the more she thought about it, the more Dolores had to admit that he had a point. Dumbledore was different from most of their other enemies. Those enemies would look for a way to undermine Harry’s prestige. They would laugh behind their hands if it turned out that someone discovered her Muggle mother and reported it to the papers.
There would come laughter at the beginning if she revealed it herself, of course. Dolores grimaced. But it was always worth going through a small amount of pain in order to win a bigger prize. That was one of the lessons she was always teaching Harry.
“Have you decided?” Bolton asked gently.
“I’m deciding if I can bear the laughter at the beginning.”
“Is that the only thing that worries you?” Bolton shook his head and smiled in a way that Dolores hoped she could trust. “There are ways to turn even that around. Spin the article. Talk about the courage that it took you to come forwards, when you know there are people out there who will want to use your heritage against you. Talk about how you want your ward to see there’s no shame in what he is. There’s ways and ways, Dolores. All sorts of ways.”
His eyes were gleaming like the heads of nails, and Dolores returned a small smile. “Very well. I trust you to be the one to put me in contact with the reporters.”
“And I trust you to be the one to actually write the article in your head, long before you start speaking with one,” Bolton replied. He held out his cup. A Potter house-elf appeared to fill it. “I do think this deserves some celebration, don’t you?”
“Necessarily,” Dolores replied, and even allowed the elf to fill her cup a little more, something she never did, before she touched glasses with him.
*
Dolores sighed and pushed herself back from the writing desk. It was almost time for dinner, and she was weary of struggling with words that probably wouldn’t all go in the order she imagined them, anyway. She would have to come up with the slant she wanted the article to take, but she had no doubt that the reporter Bolton found would insist on adding his or her own touch to it.
She stepped out of her bedroom and paused with one hand on the wall. Something was wrong. But when she reached out with her mind and senses to the wards, they were still in place, thick, tingling.
She swiftly made her way to Sirius’s bedroom, wondering if he was talking into the Floo in that dangerous way again, but when she opened the door, it was empty. Dolores stood blinking and looking. Of course, he would be in the dining room with Harry.
But when she went downstairs, only Lupin was there, so deep in a book about werewolves that he didn’t look up when she came into the room. Dolores had to cough in that “Hem, hem” way she had used to get attention when she still worked in the Ministry.
Then he only looked up and said, “Oh. Didn’t Sirius and Harry come down with you?”
“No.” Dolores knew what was wrong now. Sirius and Harry should have returned from their jaunt to Diagon Alley well over an hour ago. Sirius was always good about giving her precise times. She turned around and called, “Micky!”
The most senior of the house-elves popped up and began to babble and bow. Dolores disregarded that, and demanded, “When did Mr. Black and Harry return to the house?”
“They are not being returned yet, Miss Dolores.”
Dolores found her wand in her hand without even thinking about it. She wasn’t a warrior. She forced herself to put it away while Remus watched her in wonder. “Thank you.” Micky stared after her with big eyes as she made her way to the Floo. Dolores had to shake her head. Thanking a house-elf? Harry must be rubbing off on her.
She cast Floo powder into the flames and called, “Department of Magical Law Enforcement!”
“Isn’t this a little premature? We don’t know where they are. Maybe Sirius is only playing a prank on us.”
“Please, Lupin, I can tell from your tone that that isn’t true,” Dolores said without turning around, and found the face of an Auror forming in front of her. She nodded to him and said, “I’m Harry Potter’s guardian, and he’s been gone for more than an hour past the time he was appointed to return from Diagon Alley.”
The Auror, to give him credit, only yelped once before he said, “I’ll fetch Minister Bagnold, Miss!” Then he scrambled away, and Dolores leaned back on her heels and waited as patiently as she could.
“I still think this is—”
“Not with people out there who want to take custody away from me,” Dolores said. She watched the flames dance and writhe, to keep her mind away from the disgusting twisting in her own stomach. “Not with former Death Eaters who might leap at the chance to harm the Boy-Who-Lived. He’s not exactly keeping a low profile anymore.”
“Well, I suppose you’re right,” Lupin said, his voice doubtful. “But I still think we should have given Sirius a chance to come back.”
Luckily, Dolores was spared the pressure to answer when Minister Bagnold’s face appeared in the fireplace. “Harry’s missing, you said?”
Dolores nodded, grateful for once that the Minister called Harry by his first name. That meant she would be more committed to proving she cared for him. “Yes. His godfather promised to bring him back by five, and he’s never broken that particular promise. He knows how I worry.”
“Then we’ll send Aurors to Diagon Alley,” said Bagnold firmly. “You haven’t sent anyone yourself?”
Dolores shook her head. “I Flooed your Department first.”
Bagnold turned her head and shouted at someone Dolores couldn’t see, “Florent! Five Aurors to the western end of Diagon Alley, five to the eastern! Tell them to wear their robes and flaunt their wands.” She turned back to Dolores. “I think it’s best if whoever took or delayed them knows we’re looking for them, instead of trying to be discreet.”
Dolores nodded fervently. If it was former Death Eaters or someone else who had reason to fear the Ministry, this might convince them to give Harry back more quickly.
Lupin cleared his throat behind her. Dolores turned around. She supposed it was possible he might know something, although his insensibility so far hadn’t shown it. “What?”
“I didn’t want to tell you this. Sirius made me promise not to, in fact. But he didn’t think you would take it this way.”
Bagnold tried to say something. Dolores held up a hand, said, “Your pardon, Minister,” and went on staring at Lupin, who was tugging on his tattered robe. “What do you mean? What didn’t he think I would take what way?”
Lupin coughed into his sleeve. “He thought you would just see it as a bit of fun. Or not even notice Harry was gone. Sirius—he and Harry are in Grimmauld Place. It was a prank.”
Dolores began to shake a little. She didn’t know which emotion, exactly, was driving her, but she hoped there was nothing but relief on her face as she turned around and said to Minister Bagnold, “Can you still call the Aurors back? It seems it was a prank by Harry’s godfather. He and Harry are well and in one of the Black properties.”
“They haven’t left yet.” Bagnold stared at her, gaze deep and piercing. “You’re sure about this? What is the source of your information?”
“Harry’s tutor, Mr. Lupin.” Dolores closed her hands around each other and ground her fingernails together. Luckily, her hands were below the hearth and out of sight of the Minister. “I apologize for disturbing you so unnecessarily.”
“No, no, it was necessary. You had no way of knowing. This is one of Mr. Black’s pranks?”
“That’s what Mr. Lupin said.” Dolores didn’t turn around, but she still sank enough venom into the words that she felt Lupin flinch.
“Very well.” Bagnold sighed. “I’m glad that Harry’s safe, of course. But I do hope that you speak to Mr. Black and make it clear that this kind of playing with your time and the Ministry’s is unacceptable.”
“Believe me,” Dolores said, “I intend to speak with him.”
There was apparently enough of all kinds of emotion in her voice to make sense to the Minister, because she smiled a little and said, “I can see that you do.” She tipped her head. “Then good luck, Madam Umbridge.”
Umbridge nodded, and closed the Floo, and started to head outside the wards so she could Apparate.
“It was just a joke.”
Her slashing look left Lupin cowering in the corner, something Dolores was more than glad to see. She turned her attention away and rushed towards the Apparition point.
For now, Harry was safe. But she was going to give Black a piece of her mind about playing with her thoughts and her sanity that way.
And she no longer cared how dangerous he was.
I can be dangerous, too.
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The Daring Win