'Six months ago,' Stebbins interrupted, 'Mr. Potter changed his address records at Hogwarts to state that his guardian was Mr Black, and as Hogwarts had accepted letters signed by Mr Black in loco parentis for Mr Potter for over three years prior to such change, ceteris peribus, the records at Hogwarts do indicate that Mr Potter is a resident of Malfoy Park, is that correct… Mr Lupin?'
'That's correct,' Lupin said in a barely audible voice. 'To the best of my knowledge.'
'There's also Muggle law,' Sirius said in a constricted voice. 'The Dursleys
— they're Harry's blood family — '
'So they are,' said Stebbins, whom Harry was growing to loathe. Lucius himself was saying nothing; leaning against the rail, letting the bailiff do the talking. 'But we do have other evidence here on the issue of domicilary location. We also are in possession of a letter from Mr Dursley in which he states that he was advised that his guardianship of Mr. Potter had ended on Mr Potter's seventeenth birthday. I believe he ended the letter with — quote — good riddance and never come near me or my family again — end quote. A ruling was issued this morning deeming all magical paraphenalia within the purview of Privet Drive to be Bona Vacantia, and was confiscated by the Ministry Response Division approximately seventeen minutes ago. As further evidence that Mr. Potter is now domiciled at the Manor, Ministry records clearly show that various wards and protections on and around the Dursley home were removed during the month of July of this year.'
'They were?' Sirius whirled on Mr. Weasley. 'Arthur, is that true?'
Mr. Weasley nodded, looking shellshocked. 'Well, yes — the Auror Response Team thought, since Harry wouldn't be there any more, and there's a high expense involved in keeping such an extensive ward system in place…'
'My God,' Sirius whispered. 'How long have they been planning this…?'
Lucius gave a delighted laugh. 'Do be quiet for a moment, Black,' he said.
'The best is yet to come, I think. Stebbins..?'
The Bailiff smiled a thin smile. 'Very well. 'Ex concessis, the Bar of Malfoy Park has considered the evidence presented, in comportment with the Amicus Curae pleadings filed by Lucius Malfoy, then filing in absentia. In our hearing no complaint thereto, cadit quaestio, we issue this Writ of Praecipe and Replevin. Lucius Malfoy is now deemed by this court, per curium and de lege lata, the guardian of his son by blood, Draco Malfoy, and also has full custody, pursuant to the acts and determinations discussed herein, with regard to Harry Potter, as his period of residence, and thus his domicile, at Malfoy Manor predates the date on which he will turn eighteen. Nemo dat quod non habet, and res gestae. Signed by Lucius Malfoy and six officers of the Ministry, as well as the Bailiff of Malfoy Park, in this, the year nineteen ninety-eight.' And that,' he finished, rolling up the parchment, 'is all.'
'Six officers of the Ministry? Which six officers of the Ministry?' Sirius demanded; Harry had never seen him look so angry, not even on his Wanted posters.
'I'm so sorry,' Lucius replied brightly. 'That's confidential.'
Sirius lunged at him, but Lupin and Mr. Weasley each caught at his arms, and held him back. 'Sirius,' Harry heard him whisper, 'The Ministry will take care of this, don't panic, we can handle this…'
Sirius didn't seem comforted by this and Harry hardly blamed him. 'The Ministry is obviously in on this,' he hissed back. 'How can you not realize that, Arthur — '
'Mr. Malfoy.' It was Lupin speaking, his voice firm and collected. 'You may be correct. You may be able to keep Harry here for a certain amount of time, although you'd be a fool to think you could make it permanent, and I don't think you're a fool. However, that doesn't change the fact that any harm that comes to him while he's in your custody is your responsibility. If you hurt him…if you harm either boy in any way…it's still murder, and you'll go to Azkaban.'
Lucius sighed, and waved a heavily ringed hand in a dismissive gesture. 'I have no intention of harming the boys,' he said. 'What one-track minds you all have.'
'The Ministry will be watching you!' Arthur Weasley shouted unexpectedly. 'If you so much as touch a hair of Harry's head — '
Lucius snorted. 'Tedious little petty bureaucrat,' he said, 'I've no patience at all. I've taken care of you, anyway. Let the Ministry rage and roar. Everything I've done here is perfectly legal. And now…I'd like you all to leave me alone, please.'
Lucius raised his wand. Harry felt Draco catch involuntarily at his sleeve and pull him back hard; he ducked his head; there was a roaring in his ears. Lucius shouted an incantation Harry could barely hear, and something like a powerful wind tore past him, ripping at his clothes and hair. He remembered the Whirlwind Spell he had cast last year that had hurled Lucius out of the Manor — wondered if this was the same thing -
how ironic it would be if it was. He held his breath -
And it was over. The wind stilled and was gone. Draco's released his grip on Harry's sleeve, and Harry opened his eyes.
The room was nearly empty. Lucius still stood where he had, untouched by the storm, the smirk on his narrow face making him look far more like his son than Harry had ever seen him. The Death Eaters were still there as well, standing near Lucius. All that remained of those who had been at the party before Lucius had arrived was Draco, Harry himself, and Ron -
huddled in a small semicircle together.
Lucius looked at them with an expression of calm interest. Then he snapped his fingers at his Death Eaters, and they began walk towards him.
Draco cleared his throat. 'Father,' he said, and jerked his chin towards Ron. 'I think you forgot a Weasley. I know there's a lot of them; it's hard to keep track, but…'
Ron made a choked little sound in his throat.
'Be quiet,' Lucius snapped. 'Do not speak on subjects you know nothing about.'
'Sorry,' Draco said. 'I didn't realize you'd decided Ron was your property as well. I mean, what's next after this? Pseudo-adopting the rest of my class and renaming the Manor 'Lucius Malfoy's Home for Wayward Young Wizards'?'
Lucius looked coldly at his son. 'I think,' he said, 'that you have not been very wise in either your speech or your judgements recently, Draco. I would hate to lose you.'
Draco blinked. 'Yes,' he said. 'That would be very careless of you.'
'And what did I tell you when you were a child? That it's wrong to be careless with your possessions? I believe I did tell you that.'
'Probably,' Draco said. He looked frightened and tired and it made Harry nervous — he was not used to Draco looking frightened, even when he was.
'Father — whatever it is, please get on with it.'
Without any change in expression, Lucius stepped down from the platform he had been standing on, took a few steps towards his son, and slapped him hard across the face. It was loud in the still room, like the sound of a whip cracking. Draco put his hand to his face; Harry tensed and spoke before he could stop himself, 'You're not allowed to hurt him,' he protested fiercely — 'You said you knew that.'
'Surely a father can reprimand his son,' Lucius said calmly, not looking at Harry. His gaze was on Draco, who had taken his hand away from his face.
A red mark remained there, like a whip weal, across his cheek.
'I expected a worse punishment,' Draco said, his voice toneless.
'Considering all that I've done.'
'That was not your punishment,' Lucius said. His voice was chillingly soft.
'That was my forgiveness of you.' He raised his head, and looked at his Death Eaters. 'Take them,' he said, gesturing at Harry and Draco. 'Lock them up on the North Tower. No — not him as well,' he added, and laid a long-fingered hand on Ron's sleeve. 'Leave this one here with me.'
Harry heard Ron's sharp intake of breath, and even now, even after everything that had happened and everything he had told himself, he felt it like a blow to his stomach — he spun around towards Ron, but the Mayor, behind him, had already seized him and jerked his right arm up behind his back. The pain was immediate and intense, and Harry cried out, and kicked backwards with his feet. His left foot connected satisfyingly with something soft and fleshy, and the Mayor nearly dropped him.
