Hogwarts castle holds many secrets. Some secrets are open to all who care to listen, told to first year students the moment they walk through the doors. Other secrets are hidden by layer upon layer of enchantment, illusion, and age old runes, buried so deep in the very stone work that none but the most learned or lucky ever find them. But by far the largest number of secrets are protected only by the will of the minds that hold them — secrets of forbidden trysts in broom cupboards, of broken promises and unspoken favour swapping — a web of lies and deceit expertly woven in the playpen of future magical leaders, cunning, byzantine, and always totally innocent of all charges, no really, it wasn't me professor, it was him.
Compared to the actual leaders magical world though…
of
the
Albus Dumbledore crept through a row of books, soundless and invisible. His target sat alone and soon he would have what he needed. Framing someone for a crime they didn't commit wasn't easy, unless, of course, you controlled the defence — then it was no more difficult than a hair, a polyjuice, and a well placed illegal dark curse.
Harry Potter was reading in a library chair, taking about as much notice of the world around him as a nail in a block of wood. Dumbledore raised his wand and thought, 'accio loose hairs.' Nothing happened. No loose hairs zoomed towards him. He frowned.
Harry Potter carelessly scratched his nose and shifted so his legs hung over the chair's armrest, the book now held high over his face.
Dumbledore turned and headed back the way he came. Well, okay then, maybe not quite as easy as that.
"Dumbles just tried to sweep me for hairs." Harry climbed into his trunk and shut the lid behind him.
Daphne and Hermione looked up from their own books on their couch and frowned. "He didn't get any did he?" Daphne asked.
"No, of course not."
"Good." Hermione carefully put a bookmark in where she'd been reading and placed the book on the table in front of her. "I hate to think what he'd try if he had."
Harry landed in the armchair opposite the girls. "I have thought about it."
"And?" Daphne asked, copying Hermione and giving Harry her full attention.
"Could be for a love potion, possibly on one of the non-noble Dark witches keyed to me — you know — try the same trick that he thinks worked with you, Daph, to make sure the Dark also distance themselves from me like he thinks the Gray have." Daphne nodded.
"Could also be a straight up frame attempt with polyjuice."
Daphne frowned. "But framing someone with polyjuice is almost impossible. That's what the polyjuice defence is for."
"Yes, but it's easy if you control the defence."
"I'm sorry." Hermione raised her hand. "What is the polyjuice defence?"
"Oh." Harry turned to her. "It's a legal defence. Because polyjuice isn't illegal and is readily accessible for the right price, it's impossible to convict someone of a crime with eye-witness testimony alone, unless you can catch the person red handed and then hold them under surveillance for an hour to make sure they're not under polyjuice." "Because otherwise the person who committed the crime could just have been pretending to be the defendant using polyjuice." Hermione nodded in understanding.
"Exactly."
"But what was that about Dumbledore controlling the defence?"
"Last time around, when they convicted me of Ginny's murder, guess who was my defence lawyer?"
Hermione's jaw Dumbledore?"
"Yep."
dropped.
"No
way!
"That's hardly fair." Daphne shrugged. "The defence of a minor would have been appointed by the minor's lord if he was noble. We don't know Lord Potter's motivation, but apparently he saw no problem with it."
Hermione folded her arms. "Well, Dumbledore didn't get any of your hairs, so it shouldn't matter, right?"
Harry chuckled. "Oh, if only. This shows that there's a good chance he may be plotting something similar to the end of the second year in the second timeline."
Hermione's frown turned worried. "So what do we do?"
"We let him overextend himself. He thinks the Gray has distanced itself from Harry Potter when it hasn't. This could be a perfect opportunity to strike a powerful blow. After all, we'll have no more use for him here once we have the stone."
"You mean let him frame you?" Hermione worried her lip. "But Harry, what about… you know…" she looked towards the book on mind healing open on Harry's desk.
Harry let out a long sigh. "I'll just have to focus all my free effort on getting that under control as quickly as possible. I can't let that continue to be an issue."
Daphne drummed her fingers on the chair rest. "Even then, it's not like we should be happily running around clueless. It will massively help our cause if we know what he's planning to frame you for, if he even is."
"Yes, it's a shame we can't use Eye of Kilrogg on him, or anyone with magic sensing for that matter. We'll just have to keep our normal eyes and ears open."
The girls nodded.
Malfoy Manor, currently the largest and newest manor of the three powers of Magical Britain, could never be said to be understated. White and pillared, it looked more like Versailles than Kensington Palace. Once a year, it played host to the Malfoy Yule Ball, the premier event of the social calendar, even for those who didn't buy into the Malfoy's more divisive political views. Light, Gray, or Dark, they would all be greeted graciously by Lord and Lady Malfoy, although sometimes the smiles guests received were rather fixed. It was, after all, rather embarrassing to be hosting as guests, people who you'd been doing your level best to murder when you were younger. Fixed didn't even begin to describe the rictuses now on Lord and Lady Malfoy's faces as Lord Slytherin glided up the steps to the front door, which was interesting. Harry had brief dealings with Malfoy in the past three years, but never before had, 'barely contained dread,' ever entered his mind to describe a Malfoy smile.
The Lord and Lady greeted him and led him to the drawing room, all the while throwing him occasional hasty glances and reassuring smiles, although who they thought they were reassuring was anyone's guess.
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