Chapter Text
The truth was that a good 75% of law enforcement resulted in the need to undo situations, often resulting in victims being obliviated of the fact and sometimes perpetrators.
It wasn’t thus a surprise to realise that the obliviator department was as big as the auror department. Famously, Cornelius Fudge spent hist first decades in the Ministry of Magic working his way up as an obliviator. The war offered him a breathe of cases to prove his worth, requiring the department to deviate off script and procedure often enough they ended up tripling their obliviaton scenarios and Muggle worthy excuses.
If the 1970s were about damage control, the 1980s were about growth and healing. The 1990s as it were churned slowly into an era of prevention.
Alerts of misused magic in the Muggle world were followed up closely. In person, rather than by owl message.
So it was in the summer of 1992 that an alert of underage sorcery came from an address in Surrey. A decidedly Muggle place with a relatively dense population (Muggles were good at pouring concrete into nature and ruining the natural world.)
The Aurors on-call were busy dealing with an escaped Niffler in the center of London, so it was the Obliviators who sent out their secondary on-call obliviator. Usually they were called in by the first responders, but with Muggle technology and population advancing it wasn’t that unusual for obliviators to act as first responder too.
It did require a more robust obliviator of course.
This particular night that honour fell to Yelena Boltwise, niece of the infamous author of the Calleidoscope horror mystery novels - Eugene Boltwise.
The job itself was not complicated. Accidental magic had levitated and thrown a pie at an outsider Muggle, who needed to be obliviated.
The context however was not within expectable parameters. The insider Muggles were horrible individuals, the exact type that caused the Secrecy Act to exist, the exact type that could easily turn into wixenkillers.
The underage sorcerer however was a surprise. They were locked into a small boarded up room - there were signs of locks having been installed, but that was replaced with actual metal plate threaded into the door and door frame. The room itself stank, there was no easy way to say it. There used to be a window, but that was boarded up too. An owl lay dead and decaying in a cage on a wee desk and huddled into a corner on a ratty bed was… the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry Potter, in the flesh as it were.
After all, only one individual in Great Britain had a rune for a scar, black hair and green eyes.
The kid was staring at Yelena in horrified surprise. “Who? Who are you?”
The voice was a surprise. It sounded feminine. Voices could be deceptive of course, but… implications were starting to be made.
“My name is Yelena Boltwise,” she introduced herself. “I’m a first responder of the Ministry of Magic’s Obliviation department.”
Potter seemed to shrink into themselves. “Am I being arrested?”
Great Merlin, what a mess!
This was way beyond her pay grade. In fact… Yes, this called for an alert to Crisis Management. A bit dramatic perhaps, but what Yelena was seeing here - a Problematic Situation with an Individual of Importance - raised this innocent alert straight into a major incident.
To think Potter had been relegated to potential wixenkillers!
“No, you’re not being arrested,” Yelena said. “I am probably going to get you out of here.” She took in the room again. The dead owl. The corner with a full bucket of piss and defecation. Scratches at the window frames. Scratches at the door frame. Planks disassembled on the floor. The ratty bed. “But I am going to have to call in my superiors for that.”
The mortification increased of course. “I-“
She cut them off. “It’s protocol at this point, sorry.” She then cast off the alert charm off to dispatch - proprietary charms that were only taught and to be used by first responders - and sat on the bed next to the kid. (After making sure it wasn’t wet from piss or whatever of course.)
“So… Am I wrong to think you’ve been here a while?”
The kid hesitated, probably didn’t know how to handle this interaction. That was okay.
“From the day after school let out.”
Yelena sighed. “So about a month. When did you start warping?”
Watping wasn’t the correct technical term, the forensic department would say, but it is what happened when a wixen person started transforming into an Obscurial. There were stages to the transformation. Potter wasn’t a lost cause yet, but they were definitely heading into the halfway point, when energetic transformation started to happen and base humanity started to crumble.
Potter stared at their hands now. The nails showed signs of having turned into claws, but it looked reversible. “The second or third day they locked me in, I think,” they replied. “I’d told Dumbledore and McGonagall I didn’t want to return here.” More of a whisper now. “I just… couldn’t. Not anymore. Locked in, I mean.”
Yelena cautiously laid her hand on their knee out of what she hoped was understanding.
“Mme Pomphrey aside, Hogwarts employees are not trained to deal with situations like this. It’s not an excuse for them to ignore your situation, but it is how these things go. Teachers of Hogwarts are especially idealists first, realists second. A consequence of the job, I’m afraid.”
She could hear a vague crack coming from the street, her queue to get up again. She indicated Potter to also get up. Before they left the room, she did say: “This might seem frightening now, but you’re not the only one this has happened to. We have a protocol for situations like yours. That’s maybe not a comfort, but it does mean we know what we’re doing.”
Potter gave a quick nod.
She ended up having to help them get down the stairs. A month mightn’t seem a long time, it was an eternity when your body warps into other forms. Potter would probably just get stuck in their new gender, which was a small sacrifice compared to becoming an energy blast that could level an entire town. Which was in fact the end point all Obscurials devolved to.
By the time they were outside the whole crisis management team seemed to be there. Yelena handed Potter over to the Healer, saying: “Obscurial, stage 2, signs of 3.”
The Healer nodded and guided Potter away from the rest of the group. Hopefully they could entice the kid to take a Portkey to St Mungos.
Then of course it was time for the official hand-off. Her superior, the head of the Obliviator squad, was there. The Head of the Department of Law Enforcement as well. And then of course Minister Fudge as well.
Yelena knew this would be the case, but she’d hoped to avoid the drama. Nothing to it. Sometimes, you just got to follow protocol.
“Yelena,” Pius Thickness greeted her. Obviously, she’d never had spoken directly with either Mme Bones or Minister Fudge, so it fell to her superior to lead the investigation. “I heard the word Obscurial. And I think we all saw the child’s scar. Good call on the escalation. Can you talk us through what has happened?”
Yelena nodded, “Of course, sir. It might be better to show you as well. The scene speaks for itself.”
Thickness, Bones and Fudge shared a look.
So she spoke as they entered the house of the underage magic alert, why it was the obliviators acting as first response, and then she showed the living room where the still stunned Dursley family was. She dispelled them, they started shouting, waving their fists, the adult male even getting up as if to slam any of them against the wall.
The stunning spells came from all of them, really. “These are Harry Potter’s aunt, uncle and cousin,” Yelena introduced them. “Very… Muggle.”
Minister Fudge was frowning already. "I can’t believe Albus.." Then he shook it off and indicated for her to move on.
So she went to the hallway, opened the cupboard. There was a wixen trunk with ashes in it and the remains of an intentionally broken and mutilated wand. Beneath the trunk they found a ratty mattress and enough signs to know this had in fact been Potter’s prison growing up.
“So I went upstairs and found this door boarded up.” The door had been levitated to the side, but they all saw the screws and nails from it having been boarded up. They all saw the cat flap, locked from the outside.
None of her superiors were surprised when they entered the room, though they all wrinkled their nose at the stench. Yelena had intentionally not cleaned it up. You’re not supposed to contaminate a crime scene, were you? And it helped drive the point home.
“Then I noticed that their gender had already shifted,” Yelena said. “That’s when I escalated this visit to a major incident,”
Minister Fudge didn’t seem to understand the implication. Not that bizarre, he’d been a wartime obliviator, not a peacetime obliviator. “What er… what do you mean they have shifted gender?” The Minister asked. “Are you telling me the Boy-Who-Lived has become… the Girl-Who-Lived?”
Yelena weighed her words. “I don’t think it wise to use the term Boy-Who-Lived anymore.” She indicated the room. “This is not how saviours should be -“
Her boss interrupted her. “That will be all, Ms Boltwise.” A subtle assertion of authority, right, shutting up now.
Mr Thickness continued in her stead. “It’s a lesser known fact, but when Obscurials evolve they go through roughly five stages. In the first stage, magical will stop manifesting externally and turn inwards. Second stage, the body will start to warp itself into different appearances, not too dissimilar to an uncontrolled Metamorphmagus. Unhuman characteristics start to appear and evolve into stage three, which is when subtle energy transformations take place. Stage four, the Obscurial manifests itself as an energetic being. Stage five is when the Obscurial forgets and abandons human form. This usually is followed soon by the Obscurial self-exploding.”
Minister Fudge had started nodding to himself halfway through, as if now remembering the lecture and instructions. “Right, right,… so Potter is what?”
Mr Thickness looked at Yelena. “Stage 2, sir, with signs of stage 3.”
Minister Fudge looked relieved. “So it’s reversible.”
Mme Bones who’d been keeping quiet so far spoke up. “It can be halted, Cornelius, but not completely reversed. We’ll have to wait what the Healers say, of course, but Potter would not be the first near Obscurial to permanently change gender.”
“Right, correct you are, Amelia.” He seemed to be digging through his memories just then.
Yelena in the meantime vanished the bucket, the owl corpse and other sources of stench.
“Potter can’t be Potter anymore,” the Minister concluded.
Mme Bones inclined her head, buy Thickness didn’t seem to follow the logical leap.
Minister Fudge indicated all of them to leave the room, go downstairs and exit the house. As they were descending, he explained to Thickness: “The only treatment that actually helps Near Obscurials from not becoming Obscurials is by moving them in a positive environment and removing as much triggers and reminders of their old life. This child here unfortunately is known throughout our world. Their living here is a direct consequence of the Fall of You-Know-Who, a direct result of the meddling of Albus Dumbledore and too much of an association with the child’s last name.” He waved off Mme Bones’s objections. “Oversimplified and cutting corners, I know, but we’re dealing with a child we’ve obviously mishandled that can easily become an Obscurial if we’re not diligent now. I am not going to be the first Minister in two hundred years to have an Obscurial outbreak happen on their watch.”
“Where could they go?” Mme Bones asked. “I’ve got my hands full with Susan.”
“We’ll make a list of wixen relatives of Potter. And then we’ll make a list of criteria applicable to this situation. We’ll obviously also include the child’s desires into this.” It seemed as if the Minister had decided. “Ms Boltwise,” the Minister said to her. “Go inside and remove all traces of Potter’s presence in this house, Obliviate their relatives from all knowledge of magic - frankly, I don’t care what happens to them, just make it Muggle worthy -“ Mme Bones coughed ‘and legal’ - “don’t forget to go through the neighbourhood and remove all traces of the child’s presence here.”
Thickness indicated he’d sent help, Yelena nodded gracefully and left the group.
“Amelia, could you please look into the Potter wills-“ she overheard the Minister say and then went to the house’s living room for a third time.
A Muggle-worthy excuse for these three cockroache, Yelena thought to herself. I think I can think of something.
---
They met up in the Minister's office in the morning: Pius, Fudge, head emergency healer Frederick Jawkey and of course Amelia herself. Jawkey wasn't the healer who'd treated the child the night before, but he had observed the child himself and held a report.
Nevertheless, the man looked slightly uncomfortable being in the room. Emergencies often were life-or-death situations, major incidents on the other hand usually were on an enormous scale. If it weren't for the delicate nature of both the person and the afflication, a Near Obscurial wouldn't translate into a meeting in the Minister of Magic's office.
"Gentlemen, gentlelady," the Minister said when everybody was seated at a round meeting table and sipping from a cup of tea to their liking. "Last night an alert of underage magic turned into the Boy-Who-Lived becoming a Near Obscurial, highlighting several flaws in the Ministry's processes and dealings. First of all, Mr Jawkey, what can you tell us about your patient. How are they doing?"
Jawkey took up a parchment out a folder he was carrying before looking up, addressing Cornelius mostly, but eyes flicking to both Pius and Amelia. "My patient as it were is most definitely a stage two Obscurial. Whilst reports of stage three symptoms were reported by the first responder, later analysis has confirmed that all symptoms are restricted to stage two. One of my healers did include an aside in the report believing the patient was maybe one week removed from a stage three manifestation."
They let that sink in. Stage three was the irreversible evolution. Once a Near Obscurial learned how to transfigure body parts into energy, natural curiosity would always lead to further escalation. Up to stage four Obscurials could be contained, but that had only happened once by Scamander. International consensus was that it wasn't a process easily replicated.
"Were your Healers able to figure out when the transformation started to take place?" Cornelius asked.
Head healer Jawkey glanced at his report. "We can trace stage one back to infancy, when the patient was a toddler. We weren't able to identify whether that happened before Halloween of 1981, because of Halloween 1981 or after. We can with 100% certainty report that stage two was triggered in June, when the patient was at Hogwarts. The actual manifestations started a month ago, when the patient was locked in by their Muggle relatives."
Amelia stared at Jawkey, mulling the healer's words. She glanced at Cornelius for permission to speak - this was his meeting, his lead, after all - and received it. "Obscurial manifestation could account for the damage that was wrecked on the Potter cottage that night."
Cornelius agreed non-verbally.
"That may be the most logical explanation for what happened that night," Pius said.
"What are St Mungos' recommendations and what do you think should be done, Mr Jawkey?" the Minister asked.
The man seemed startled his opinion was actually being asked, obviously was thinking about things whilst he read through the second half of his report. "The patient's body change is permanent. We were able to reverse the half-claws that had developed, but the patient's body self has adjusted too much." He stopped then, maybe realizing he was still supposed to respect patient confidentiality. "Official recommendations are that the patient should never be housed with Muggles in their suburbia again. The environment is plain unsuitable for a wixen of their calibre, the escalation risk too high."
They all agreed on that, of course.
"Furthermore, the patient has expressed intense dislike of their fame and their name. St Mungos recommends discretion and if possible a name change. Future guardians should preferably not have any school age children or younger - whilst the risk is not as big, stage three also risks the patient's environment."
Those were big changes they recommended. A name change wasn't so difficult, though changing the Potter name into something else would leave a paper trail. Maybe there was a family in the child's bloodline they could appeal to?
Families that didn't have children any more however - who of those would be capable to handle possible Obscurial symptoms? Even Amelia was exempt from this list. Yes, the more she thought about it, the more certain she was that the half-brained idea she'd head when passing by the recruits this morning could perhaps be their best chance.
"Personally," Jawkey continued. "I don't think the patient should go back to Hogwarts. Not only do the Headmaster's recruitment games target the patient, the place is seeped with possible triggers. Have them taught in a school, participate in society, have them engage with others - definitely, but Hogwarts? No way."
Cornelius remained silent, but Amelia could tell he was absorbing everything - thinking.
"Okay, thank you, Mr Jawkey, for your input. You can leave now."
Jawkey nodded to show his understanding - he'd been invited to report and share his opinion, but he wasn't the one who should decide on this. He drank the last of his tea, put his folder together again, rose and left the room. He was replaced soon by Rufus Scrimgeour in his capacity as Head Auror. He'd been running up a lead for Amelia, but she'd obviously involved him.
Once the door was shut, Cornelius turned to Pius. "How did the cleanup go?"
"About as well as expected. Potter's relatives have been obliviated of all knowledge of magic, the neighbours remember nothing. There was a crazy cat lady who claimed to be a Squib, but we ended up obliviating her too. The bint knew the kid was mistreated for years and never even filed a report with the Muggle authorities. The cousin was cursed last year by Rubeus Hagrid, I've already forwarded the observation to the Auror department." He nodded to Rufus. "As we saw last night, the kids wand and possessions were destroyed by their relatives, but every sign Potter was there has been thoroughly removed. Lily Potter's possessions that were hidden in their attic are in our evidence locker for transferral to Potter's new guardians."
"Excellent work, Pius," the Minister acknowledged. "Amelia, how far are you with your investigation?"
She nodded. "Thank you, Pius. Minister, as requested I started looking into the Potters' wills last night. Unfortunately, it seems the Potters never registered a will with the Ministry. As we can't fall back to parental consent or parental charters, we looked into Ministry custody law. As such, custody would normally fall to the registered wardens " - the Ministry was a secular institute, so they refused any mention of gods - "which are in Potter's case Sirius Black III and Alice Longbottom."
They absorbed that nugget of nightmares. An incarnated mass murderer and a mentally incapacitated witch.
"The kid really doesn't have an ounce of luck," Pius grumbled. Amelia thought the same. Between Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter and her Susan, she was actually starting to suspect it was her niece who had the best environment growing up.
"Whilst Alice Longbottom's responsibilities would transfer to Dame Longbottom," she continued. The three men grimaced at the idea - Augusta was a harpy, nothing to it. "She is also the primary caretaker of Neville Longbottom and thus outside of St Mungos' recommendations. Sirius Black III actually registered his cousin Andromeda Tonks as his beneficiary alongside Potter."
And that was Rufus' cue. "As such guardianship should fall to Andromeda née Black and Ted Tonks. They are a half-blood family with one daughter, Nymphadora Tonks, current Auror recruit and Metamorphmagus. On Amelia's request, I went and visited with Andromeda Tonks in her apothecary practice this morning. She attested to having contested Potter's custodianship with the Wizengamot multiple times in the 1980s, but all appeals were turned down by the office of the Chief Warlock. She was most intrigued that I visited.
"The reason I was tardy just now was that I went and checked Wizengamot records to verify her claims. They are."
"Alright," Cornelius started. "I think we can work with this. Amelia, please set up a meeting between us two, Croaker, the Tonks family and Potter. As soon as possible. Ask Croaker to bring a family tree of the Potter family tree if the department has one."
She acknowledged the order. She'd have to postpone her weekly review reports, but that was okay.
"Have there been any rumours so far of last night or even this morning that any of you are aware of?"
Rufus grimaced. "It's not been in the news yet, but I heard people talking about Obscurials in the elevator earlier today."
Cornelius closed his eyes in a gesture requesting patience. "Of course." He was silent for a moment. "We'll check in with Potter and Tonks first, but... I think... we will dessimate that Potter was an Obscurial, first manifested in 1981, and who'd been through reasons requiring an internal audit raised by Muggles who didn't treat him well."
"That's just the truth," muttered Amelia, confused.
Cornelius gestured for patience. "Until last night when Potter died midway through his transformation into a full-fledged Obscurial."
There were.... Were there cases where that had happened? "Has that ever happened?"
It was Rufus who grunted. "The Dumbledore sister."
Amelia nodded. Of course. The affair was almost a century old now, the knowledge that Albus Dumbledore had had a sister relegated to obscurity. As (former) leading members of the department of Law Enforcement, however, they all had access to the full Register. The Register in essence was a registry of all registered and identified wixen beings that lived in Great Britain - technically Albion, Eire had their own Ministry. They'd all read the dossiers on Dumbledore at some point in their careers; the Auror department of the 1920s and 1930s in particular had been stringent in their supervision of the man. Hardly anybody wanted to remember the man's affair with Grindelwald, fewer still knew about the man's dead sister and father who'd been locked up for life in Azkaban. The man had evolved over the years, of course, but traces of that youthful arrogance and thirst for power sometimes popped up to influence events - and people.
"I think that's it for now." Cornelius rose from the table and shuffled back to his desk. Amelia walked out after Pius and Rufus, the three of them considering things.
---
"Nymphadora, darling." Tonks recognized that voice - would recognize that voice out of a thousand.
"Mum?" she exclaimed and looked behind her. "What are you doing here?" Then she looked further and frowned. "Dad? What's happening?"
She got up from her desk, exchanging confused glances with her colleagues. (Technically fellow trainees.)
Mum said nothing, just indicated with her head to follow her.
Tonks glanced up to their supervisor, but he was busy reading a message sent by a paper plane.
He must have felt her staring however, because he looked at her just as she was about to give up. "It's okay, Tonks. You've got the rest of the day off, Bones' order.
Now she really was confused. What would involve both her parents and Bones?
So she stood up and followed her parents. For some reason they were heading to... a meeting room?
Rufus Scrimgeour and Amelia Bones were already there, waiting.
... was she fired? What had she done?
"Sit down, cadet Tonks," Scrimgeour commanded. "Mme Tonks, Mr Tonks, please have a seat."
Tonks glanced at dad, wondering whether she could tell from his expression what the meeting might be about. A complicated story, she got the impression.
They were obviously waiting for someone else.
"Is this about Harry Potter?" Mum asked, breaking the silence. Tonks felt her hair shift through a colour. That explained the mysterious circumstances. Not getting fired, great. I'm not even hired!
"Yes," Amelia replied. "An incident last night brought a situation to our attention which, frankly, should never have happened. Potter has been removed from their previous caretakers and after going through the known records, we have come to the conclusion that guardianship should be transferred to you."
Tonks exchanged looks with her parents. They'd talked about this from time to time, growing up. Of Sirius and his close friends. James and Lily, who'd jumped straight out of Hogwarts into active war zones, getting married, pregnant, going into hiding, dying, all in the span of four years. Of babies disappearing in the night, never to be heard of, seen of, until newspaper articles appeared talking of Gryffindor seekers and odd behaviours.
"What exactly happened?" her mum asked, a bit sharper now.
"Potter is a Near Obscurial," Scrimgeour bluntly said. "Signs go back to 1981, healers say, but something happened at Hogwarts in June that triggered an escalation. The kid's been abused and mistreated by their guardians."
"They?" Tonks wondered. She felt her parents gaze on her. It was true she tended to waffle between pronouns and gender at times. Most of the time she felt like a she, but sometimes most definitely a they.
"Their body has warped into a female form," Amelia clarified. "It's irreversible, but we haven't had a proper conversation with them so far. We're actually expecting them here in half an hour."
"We wanted to talk with you separately," Rufus continued. "Whilst we understand from your repeated appeals that you were interested in taking up care of Potter, we want to know whether that is still the case. And whether them being a Near Obscurial with all that entails would be problematic."
Mum and dad were thinking, looking at each other, talking without words. Then they looked at her and Tonks felt like... What is there to think about? Of course they were going to do this. Maybe she'd have to stick around the house for a couple of years extra, just to help out, but yeah... Not the biggest sacrifice to make in the grand scheme of things. Might even be better if she could save more of her wage, if she was being honest with herself.
They must be reading her resolve from her face. She kinda felt like they were sharing it. A little hardship was inevitable if it means you're going to be living.
"What would them being a Near Obscurial mean?" dad asked.
"Well..." Amelia said. "There are some things to be decided, but I think it's best to wait for the meeting later on to go through everything. We're not sure how much the healers told Potter about what they've become."
"I am presuming you are okay with assuming guardianship, then?" Rufus said.
Mum, dad and Tonks nodded at the same time. Well, technically she wouldn't be a guardian, but more of a cool big sister, but that was about the same, wasn't it?
"Excellent," Amelia commented. "Now there are some pointers we're going to ask you to be cautious of. Potter does not like their name." Tonks already liked them, she got that. "They don't like their fame. And there are triggers involving Hogwarts, You-Know-Who and Dumbledore. We're leaving it up to them to bring those up, but we will be making decisions on what to do with all of those core topics. Potter is what we call a stage two Obscurial, which means they are still bound by flesh and blood. The goal is to get them comfortable in life so they never cross the threshold to stage three, which is when Near Obscurials become full Obscurials."
Oh. This was going to be… interesting.
They spent the rest of the time waiting, basically.
After some time, Scrimgeour left and was replaced by someone Tonks couldn’t place.
Then a couple of minutes after that, a knock on the door. Someone in healer robes poked their head in, checked who they all were and then talked to someone outside the room.
They heard the healer say: “Just go in, dear, it’ll sort itself out.”
The mumbled reply definitely sounded feminine, but was incomprehensible from this side of the half open door.
"Go on then," the healer said. "I'll be waiting just here in case you need me."
Then the worst case of emo preteen Tonks had ever seen, since herself in the mirror at fourteen at least, shuffled into the room. They had their head downwards, staring at the floor, not really acknowledging any of their presence. They wore a... transfigured robe. Their hair was long and black - coming down halfway to their back maybe? It had been washed recently, that Tonks could tell. She... didn't wear spectacles? Tonks thought the newspaper spoke of spectacles.
They shuffled to one of the available chairs. Not too far from the door and... next to Tonks! Farther from mum and dad, but definitely opposite the more formally dressed Bones and whoever.
Once they were seated and had stared at the table for a bit - none of them dared speak, were just staring at them - they lifted their head and.. Morgana's tits were they cute. Twelve was such a... urgh, Tonks almost refused to think (she'd been twelve too, you know, at the time she'd thought she was very mature and big and all that).
"I'm not going to bite," they said. (So adorable, Tonks felt like her eyes were turning into hearts.)
Dad chuckled. The sound drew their attention to dad.
"Hi!" dad said. "I'm Ted and this is my wife Andromeda and that's my daughter Nymphadora."
"Tonks!" Tonks said, automatically. She really hated her first name.
"Nymphadora doesn't like her name," dad continued, "but I'll leave that for you to discuss between yourselves."
Mum took over. "I'm your godfather's cousin... We knew your parents back in the day and have actually tried gaining custody of you for years."
"Never worked," dad commented, only to stop as the actual Minister of Magic walked into the room.
Tonks felt out of her league big time.
The Minister had been moving enthousiastically, but slowed down a bit as he noticed Tonks' new sibling sitting at the table.
"Ah, excellent," the man said. "Everybody's here."
He closed the door behind him. Bones cast a detection charm, whilst the man Tonks still couldn't identify shuffled in his robes and brought a weird pyramid-shaped object. He placed it in the middle of the table, twisted bits of the sides and did Merlin knows what type of sequence. Tonks presumed it was a privacy ward? She'd heard that was a thing, mobile dynamic wards, but she'd never actually seen it in action. But that definitely must be it - why else twist different pieces differently?
"I am Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic," the Minister introduced himself.
"I'm Amelia Bones, Head of the department of Law Enforcement."
"I'm Croaker, Head of the department of Mysteries."
That explained why Tonks couldn't place the man. The Unspeakables were notorious for adopting bland facial masks as disguise. Sometimes they also wore robes that disguised their face, but the bland facial mask was always the actual mask. Something about the Mysteries, Tonks presumed.
"How.. how do you want us to refer to you?" the Minister asked.
They shrugged.
Tonks knew this game however. She shifted into a male incarnation, followed quickly by a gender neutral incarnation only to revert to her preferred female self. "I mostly identify as she/her, but sometimes I'm they/them and very rarely I'll be he/him."
Her sibling seemed to lose some of the tension they'd been holding in. "I'm... I... she/her?" Maybe she needed to work on her vocabulary however... Maybe some grammar lessons too.
Tonks inclined her head in acceptance. "Thought of a name yet?"
Her sibling shook her head. "I... I didn't know. I wanted to look but they... they burnt my books."
Oh. She'd been not quite realizing what might have been going on, but she was starting to. Okay - be... assuring. Big sister, right? (Bloody hell, why didn't she have a big sister to show here these ropes.) "We'll go through some books, no biggie."
"As you might have guessed," Bones said. "The Tonks family were supposed to become your caretakers after Halloween of 1981."
Maybe Tonks should think of a nickname for her new sibling. She couldn't keep referring to the girl as 'nameless-cute-sibling-don't-scare-her' in her head. It made thinking slow. Maybe nameless-cute-... you know the drill could just be... lil' sis. Tonks kinda felt disappointed. That was so stereotypical.
"If you do not want this arrangement," Bones continued. "Let us know, please. We have failed-" Lil' sis made an odd noise in the back of her head. "you before as a society and an institute and we are going to do our best to treat you right moving forwards."
"Have the healers talked to you about your condition?" the Minister asked.
Lil' sis nodded briefly.
"So you know you are a Near Obscurial? What that means?"
Lil' sis stared downwards a bit. "Stage two. Close to stage three. Almost irreversible." She held in her breath. "Stage three to four might kill me and hurt other people. Stage five kills other people."
"Good, good," the Minister shared a look with Croaker and Bones. "Have the healers talked to you about preventive measures?"
Lil' sis nodded.
Actually, now that Tonks thought about things, lil' sis was taking things quite well. When the term Near Obscurial had fallen, she'd feared they would have to deal with a malevolent demon spirit or something, but that actually wasn't the case (yet). Lil' sis hadn't even manifested any energetic sense of self.
"When we were discussing your case this morning," the Minister said, "we had an... idea. On how to handle your case publicly."
Mum and dad leaned forwards now, apparently interested to hear more.
"It is my belief and - " he looked at lil' sis beseechingly - "I hope you don't take offence. But it is my belief that Harry Potter ", ah, lil' sis did flinch at the name, "your previous identity, must die."
Tonks blinked. Brutal. Wouldn't that incite a riot?
Lil' sis was turning emotional. Are those tears in your eyes?
"He can? I can die?"
Tonks did not like the sound of that. That sounded way too hopeful to be healthy.
Mum seemed to be thinking the same thing, if her aborted motion implied what Tonks thought it did. (Mum had wanted to go and hug lil' sis, she just knew it. Dad too? Yeah, dad definitely too.)
"In a matter of speaking," the Minister answered. "You as an individual of course not. But Harry James Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Gryffindor 1st year, youngest Seeker of the century?" Each epithet made lil' sis cringe inwards more and more. Yup, that were all definitely triggers. Good to know (to avoid). "If your response here is any indication, it's our obligation to have him die so that you can live your life."
"And how," Mum spoke up, "do you see this happening?"
The Minister shrugged and gestured to Bones and Croaker.
"Unfortunately we haven't been able to suppress rumours of an Obscurial sighting in south England. Since Obscurials generate a lot of international interest, we are almost certain journalists and other entities will start investigating. To throw them off your living trail, we actually would want to come out saying that Harry Potter died whilst transforming into an Obscurial."
Tonks thought she must look as sceptical as her dad, mum and lil’ sis.
“The best lies,” the Minister explained, “are those that tell the truth for the most part. We do expect some backlash, of course, but it would also serve as closure for the events of 1981. Harry Potter will forever be that Obscurial boy who was triggered after losing his parents, slipped through the cracks of the systems and perished eleven years later as a consequence of that change.”
Croaker unfolded a very long and wide parchment on the table. "You will of course need a new name, a background history and a reason why you won’t attend Hogwarts as an underage wixen. This here is a family tree of the Blacks and Potters combined, based on the national wixen register.”
Were those tears in lil’ sis’s eyes? Sweet Merlin the girl was adorable. Tonks wanted to hug her. She peaked at her mum (yes, she too was thinking that), but then belatedly realised her future boss’s boss and the Minister of Magic were here. Let’s… let’s try for professionalism, Tonks?
Mum pointed at a spot on the tree. “That’s your grandmother Dorea Black. She was my great aunt actually, but she got your father later than my grandmother had children.”
Urgh. That was confusing. So lil’ sis was actually mum’s cousin? What a weird notion. Tonks was supposed to be a generation younger than lil’ sis.
Lil’ sis seemed to be focusing on other details however. “I thought we had longer life spans than Muggles?”
Tonks frowned. Then started looking at the years of birth and death. Blimey, wasn’t that depressing?
“Whilst any magical being has the potential to live long lives,” Croaker clarified, “that doesn’t mean wixen are immune to greed, stupidity and carelessness. Some of Britain’s citizens are well in their 200s, but it is a fact that the last century has not been gentle on the population.” He remained silent for a moment. “My department has actually looked into this, searching for potential causes. You-Know-Who’s campaign in the 1970s was directly responsible for halving our population.” The Minister and Bones made a startled noise. Nobody at the Ministry had apparently made the calculation before.
Mum and dad didn’t look particularly surprised. They’d known a lot of people who had been murdered, permanently disabled or just “disappeared”.
“Furthermore,” Croaker said, “from Grindelwald’s defeat in 1945 up until thirty years later, when the civil war started heating up, we believe a fertility curse was in place on the whole of Great Britain, but Scotland and northern England in particular.”
Tonks didn’t know what to think of that. It actually did explain why there were so few interesting wixen her age, actually. They’d never been born or they were murdered and so… that’s why all those classrooms had been unused. Hogwarts was supposed to hold a lot more people.
“I have never heard this,” the Minister told Croaker.
“Most of our research is of an esoteric nature,” the Unspeakable explained. “So it is standard procedure for reports, research and debates to take place within the confines of our department. There has been a long and difficult debate going on as to when to publish a final report. It is only recently that we have been able to see a clear trend break in magical births and deaths. We are still busy projecting future scenarios - what would happen when another war would break out, what would happen if Muggles discovered us,… Those scenarios.”
The Minister expressed his understanding, then sighed deeply. “Please have your report prepared. If it is as you have told, we are going to have to potentially radically reimagine our community, institutes and policies. We cannot allow ourselves to disappear and we certainly cannot allow us to become as spread thin that situations such as Miss Potter can happen again.” There was a lot of… latent indignation, horrified realisation and resolution accompanying those words. Tonks honestly felt impressed. Obviously, trying to become an Auror meant that you believed in the rule of law, in a hierarchy, but she’d seen that fuggly bowler hat and just thought. What a buffoon. But what the man said and the emotions he showed - those were understandable, human reactions. Filtered, but not manufactured. He’s actually the Minister.
Lil’ sis had been alternating between tracing the family tree, peaking at mum, dad and Tonks and listening to Croaker and the Minister. She seemed relieved the conversation had shifted off of her personal affairs (understandable). But also as if she’d made a choice?
“I can maybe be a Black?” she posited. “If Harry Potter is to die… I can’t be a Potter of the same age. Nobody’s going to believe that.”
Andromeda nodded. “Of course, dear.”
(Again with the cute subconscious reactions. Tonks, control yourself.)
“This lady here,” lil’ sis indicated. “Died this year? Doesn’t look as if anyone in her generation is still alive.”
“Aunt Cassiopeia,” murmured mum.
“Not even Narcissa was at her funeral,” dad agreed.
Tonks thought about it. “Aunt Cassie was not… She was old?”
Mum nodded. “And lesbian. She visited us because we didn’t judge her choice in partners, but she has been a social recluse for years now.”
They considered it some more.
“Alphard,” said Ted. “Wasn’t he in touch with her?”
“He was,” mum replied. “But he’s lived in Galicia for the past 15 years. We’ve only exchanged owls with him a couple of times; I don’t think he’ll pop up to raise a fuss. If he does, I don’t think he’ll care? Whether we’re calling Dorea Black’s grandchild a Black or Cassiopeia’s child - it would still be legitimate. I think?”
“There is a lot of history behind the Black name,” Bones commented. “Some of it related to Harry Potter.”
Lil’ sis regarded the woman. “I think that’s okay. I’m… If I can be… If I am not Harry Potter and don’t… don’t have to fulfil his expectations, I… I think I can manage?” She shuffled a bit on her seat. “I feel relieved, knowing I don’t…”
Nobody quite knew how to comment on that.
“Cassiopeia preferred women?” lil’ sis asked.
Mum, dad, Tonks and hell - even Amelia Bones? nodded.
“Then I should be called Artemis,” she concluded. “Artemis Black.”
Artemis. That was much better than Nymphadora, if she were being honest. Still didn't follow the logic, but Tonks thought that maybe "Arty" could sound like "Harry"? Sounded off, but who was she?
Her mum wouldn’t be her mum of course… “Artemis Elladora Black. Blacks recycle names across generations, even when new ones are added.”
Lil’ sis - Artemis Elladora, Morgana bedamned - grunted an assent.
Bones (should she actually refer to her as 'the Director'?) was filling in some parchment form. Probably related to this discussion?
"Cassiopeia Black was buried according to traditional rites?" Croaker asked, looking up. "Great. We can provide a potion that will turn Artemis in her bloodborn daughter. That should also negate any blood-based enchantments and wards."
"Can that potion modify Ms Black's age?" Amelia queried.
"That's a different potion," Croaker replied. "Which we also have in stock, I think."
"Have one set to age her by five months. Going younger would be ridiculous, considering Cassiopeia's age, but Artemis should have a different day of birth."
Croaker nodded, made a note on parchment and turned it into a message drone, presumably to
"What about school?" Artemis said quietly.
The Minister considered the girl. "Hogwarts is too complicated." He eventually said. "The Headmaster is known for his manipulations. Your parents were known to be part of the Headmaster's resistance group, even when they had you."
Lil' sis looked down.
"We ran," dad confessed. "When Nymphadora was one and the first attacks started? We bought a secluded home, warded to hell and back and hid in plain sight. We kept quiet. In contact with our friends and relatives, insofar as they wanted to be in contact, but at a distance."
"Your parents hid," mum continued. "But they still participated, they engaged. They'd ask us or any of their other friends to watch over you, of course, but they still actively participated together in battles and skirmishes."
"My sister and her husband did the same," Bones added quietly. "With little Susan and me."
"If you want to live," the Minister then said, "then you have to learn how to deal with your limitations. Stage two can be managed, but - "
" - the pathways have been made and I can easily slip into them," lil' sis finished. "The healers explained. So... no Hogwarts?"
"No Hogwarts."
"But how will I learn?"
The Minister shrugged. "That will be up to you and your guardians to decide. Homeschooling is an option, the Irish have a decent school, apprenticeships are possible,... Hogwarts is the primary school for wixen children to learn magic, but it is not the only one."
Tonks wondered how that would look like. To not attend Hogwarts felt so weird.
The Minister then looked around the table. "I think we can conclude this meeting. Amelia, Croaker, I rely on your discretion to wrap this up? Mr Tonks, Mrs Tonks, it was an honour to meet with you. Cadet Tonks, glad to have you on board. Miss Black, it was lovely to meet you, though I wish your circumstances had been different." He rose from the table and started walking to the door. Before he turned the handle, he looked at Artemis a final time, actually staring straight into her eyes. "You are certain of this? Harry Potter may die?"
Artemis' stare hardened. "Kill him."
Tonks had to confess: kinda badass, ordering your own 'death'. Also cute. Definitely cute. Can I hug her already?
Mum was looking at the family tree again.
"As Cassiopeia's daughter," she eventually said. "You will be first in line to inherit your old identity's estate. You will lose some on the inheritance tax, but there is no need to go to Gringotts now."
"If you could please," Croaker said as he started to roll up the family tree, "remain close by for the necessary potions? My colleagues should have gathered all the ingredients almost ready."
Tonks had a feeling they'd just gone and harvested aunt Cassie's corpse in the graveyard.
Bones was going over her paperwork one last time before creating duplicates.
"If you could please, Mr and Mrs Tonks, sign this form here, and this form there," she handed over the forms. "Cadet Tonks, please sign this form here."
Hers was a confidentiality vow. This would actually raise her security clearance.
Mum and dad had... oh, right, guardianship papers to sign. And a confidentiality agreement.
Bones gathered the documents, went and called the healer inside. She was given a confidentiality agreement to sign too. I would think their vows would cover that? The healer didn't raise a fuzz, so maybe this was par for the course. St Mungos technically was an independent institute...
The healer checked in with lil' sis a final time, then left.
About ten minutes later, two Unspeakables actually wearing their concealment robes entered the meeting room. Each was holding a potion vial. One potion looked like neon blood, the other a dull dark green.
"Ms Black," Croaker said and gestured. The Unspeakable holding the green vial handed it to lil' sis. "Please drink the potion ad fundum. You will feel some discomfort, your body might start to ache as you age, but it will pass easily. We are only adding five months, after all."
Lil' sis didn't reply, but did as she was told.
The effect was... not weird? Tonks did it all the time in the mirror after all, ageing and de-aging, going from toddler to granny. Part of Metamorphmagus training, really.
Bones cast a spell then which produced a slip of paper. Whatever was on it, she jotted it down on one of the forms.
"Now drink the next potion. Half in a first gulp, then the second." The other Unspeakable offered the vial.
Lil' sis put her finger to where the halfway point was, turned the vial a bit to see how the liquid moved and then drank the potion as instructed. (It was about half and half. Snape would have objected, but Croaker didn't seem to see a problem.)
"You will start to feel the effects of this potion within the next five minutes," Croaker explained. "It will start as a tingling in your heart and will steadily move through your body until you'll feel it in the tips of your toes and fingers. You might want to close your eyes at some point, but please keep them open. Blood might pour from your ears, eyes and nose. If you need to lay down, lay down on the floor - not the table. You might levitate off of the ground and not be able to move your limbs. This will pass after approximately ten to twenty minutes."
Tonks cursed in her head. Why did the bloody man have to tell that after lil' sis had taken that potion. She moved out of her chair and gestured at Artemis to rise as well. "Come, love, better to lay down now."
Her sister was halfway out of her chair when she clammed up. This time, Tonks cursed aloud, caught the girl in her arms and carefully started guiding her downwards. Dad started helping with Artemis' legs and mum was also there and hell - this already felt like they were a family, the four of them, wasn't it?
Croaker repeated: "You are not stuck like this, it will pass."
It seemed as if that wasn't enough. I wonder why, what a wanker.
Tonks had Artemis's head in her lap now, mum and dad crouched nearby, when... that Near Obscurial thing started happening? It was the weirdest. Did not resemble Metamorphmagus transformations at all.
Artemis distorted. As if someone blurred her entire body over and over again at high speed - it was incredibly freaky to look, Tonks felt like she was staring at the abyss of madness while it was going on. She was also still holding her sister which was surreal, like grasping something that existed and did not exist at the same time. Wet dust. Solid vapour. From a distance she heard a heartfelt "Damn it, Saul, we're trying to avoid this."
Tonks didn't pay any attention to the reply. "Hey kid, I'm here. Tonks. Well, maybe... I'll maybe allow you to call me Dora. Your new sister." The distortion slowed down a bit.
Suddenly mum was reaching out into the distortion. Are you supposed to do that? The distortion paused instantly, as if not expecting the sensation.
"Artemis, darling," mum whispered. "We're here for you."
And then dad was also reaching into the distortion, saying cheesy stuff. "You're not alone, dear, not alone."
Then with a heart-wrenching sob the distortion stabilized. Edges started to appear and out of the horror that apparently was an active Near Obscurial slowly a young girl took place.
Then she opened her eyes. Tonks squeed. "You've got pink eyes!" But like actual pink irises! That was so cool. Can I do that? Yes, I can!
"Merlin!" mum muttered.
"I can't move my arms or legs," Artemis whispered.
"That's normal, love," dad said. "It's the potion. Within a couple of minutes you will be moving them again."
"Oh, okay," she answered back. "Don't... Don't leave me?"
"Never," they accidentally said at the same time. They were such saps, weren't they?
Tears started just trickling down. Artemis didn’t make any sound - there were no sobs now, but she was crying and very emotional. Tonks felt her heart go out to her.
Something wet fell down on Artemis’ cheek and - oh, I’m also crying, Tonks thought to herself.
“They called me a freak,” the younger girl said. “And then I became a freak. And they just locked me in, I couldn’t get out.” Mum started caressing Artemis’ face as she babbled. “And I really tried, but they just.. And Hedwig. She was in her cage and.. and she’s dead now.”
“Was that your owl?” mum asked.
Artemis nodded and turned towards mum as if seeking comfort. The potion’s wearing out. Mum must have realised it too, because she gestured and then Tonks and dad were helping Artemis up into a hug which they ended up joining.
After an indeterminate amount of time, they shuffled back in their seats.
Croaker forwarded a piece of parchment alongside a thin small knife. “Seven drops of your blood on the parchment, please,” he said. “It’s to establish your official birth certificate.”
The process was pretty straight forward. Tonks had had to have her birth certificate done during the Christmas holidays, when she was sending in her candidature for the Auror department. The parchment was soaked in a special parchment and enchanted with runes - the moment three drops of blood were added, the runic construction queried the national wixen registry for compatible samples and related information and wrote down the result. All Ministry personnel, all prisoners, all suspects of the DLE, personnel of St Mungos and all the magical schools,… were obligated to submit a blood sample to create these birth certificates. Combined with the less intrusive national wixen registry which only required a written attestation - the government had an accurate idea of who its citizens were and how they were related to one another. The biggest group of people that flew under the radar this way were the Muggleborn, actually. Given a fair amount of pureblood families had done their utter best to eliminate Muggleborn wixen from Britain, the subject was rather delicate.
Tonks was actually certain her dad didn’t have an official birth certificate.
About seventy seconds after the parchment absorbed the blood, it would start to write its output.
They hadn’t talked about who Artemis’ father was supposed to be, had they? They’d just settled on aunt Cassie and went with it.
Oh. That was… clever. Sneaky, but clever.
Somehow they’d dug up the remains of Fleamont Potter and gotten his blood somehow? (Creepy when you think about it too much. The man had been dead for 15 years.)
Lil’ sis officially was the illegitimate child of Cassiopeia Black and Fleamont Potter, born three years after Fleamont Potter, Euphemia Potter (née Pritchard) and Dorea Black had died. Six years before Richard Potter, Artemis’ now half-brother, died. Tonks had vague memories of Richard - he’d been 24 when he died? So 21 when she’d last seen him in 1983. Richard had never recovered from the 1977 attack on Potter Manor, succumbing to his injuries in 1986. Some kind of dark curse nobody had ever succeeded in identifying let alone curing.
Tonks personally suspected he’d been cursed with Parselmagic. A fair amount of people with lingering symptoms had been cursed by Voldemort or one of his enchanted snakes in that magical tongue.
“My birthday is the 29th of February?” Artemis exclaimed. “How old am I then? Am I… three years old?”
Ooh, yeah, that is.. Actually what did they do with people born on a leap day?
“Your unofficial birthday will be the 1st of March,” dad said. “So no, you are still twelve.”
“Which brings me to the final form that needs to be filled in,” Bones then said. “Guardianship papers for Artemis Elladora Black. Mr Tonks, Mrs Tonks, please sign at the indicated spot. Ms Black, please sign as well. As you are now twelve years old, you have reached the age of legal consent and have an official say in your future and life.”
They signed the papers. Then Croaker and Bones signed the papers, everybody was shuffled together and both Ministry officials rose and indicated the newly expanded Tonks family to proceed them out of the meeting room.
“Best of luck, Ms Black,” Bones said. “Do not hesitate to reach out if you need to.”
Croaker disappeared around some corner, Bones gestured for Tonks to lead them out of the Ministry and… that’s what they did. Tonks spotted some of her fellow recruits watching her with great interest, but she just shook her head. She’d talk to them tomorrow. Right now, she had a sibling to welcome home.