Poison Pen

Harry has had enough of seeing his reputation shredded in the Daily Prophet and decides to do something about it. Only he decides to embrace his Slytherin side to rectify matters.



5. In the Dog house

Arthur Weasley was by no means a cowed man. Granted, his wife Molly was a force to be reckoned with when she got going and he left family matters and discipline to her, but only because she was very good at it. No, Arthur considered himself a laid back sort of fellow.

However, since Ron had befriended an orphan by the name of Harry Potter, Arthur's comfortable world had turned upside down. He couldn't fault his son, it just seemed like the right thing to do despite all of the 'adventures' they had shared. Harry was so small and fragile back then.

The day after the trial, Arthur decided to sit down with his three youngest sons and had a quiet talk. What they told him was nothing short of criminal! How could a man as wise as Albus Dumbledore be so blind in his dealings with The Boy Who Lived. It was beyond his understanding. Hmm. . .Unless. . .Maybe? . . . No, he couldn't, could he?

Alone in his office at the ministry several days later, the disturbed red-headed wizard wrote down everything he knew, or speculated about Harry Potter from his talk with his sons. Along with their information, he added his own observations. It was too bad he couldn't speak about the meeting with the Potter family barrister as his oath prevented it. On a separate parchment he made a note about the necessity of taking Harry to consult his barrister, if he could dodge Albus to do so.

Arthur also jotted a reminder to ask the goblins to check on the wards around Potter's muggle relative's home. A person as important as Harry Potter should have extensive wards protecting his home. He now wondered just what kind of wards Albus had actually placed and if they were as effective as the headmaster claimed.

At lunch time, Arthur Weasley walked out of this office, told his secretary he would see her after lunch, and strolled casually through the ministry. He stopped to chat with fellow co workers before going to a small hidden drop chute inside a normal-looking stall in the men's loo. There he dropped all of his morning musings into the chute.


An operative in the Unspeakable department knocked on the Head's office door. "A report just came in from the Sparkplug, Croaker," he said, handing over several pieces of parchment. "It makes an interesting read, if you ask me."

Croaker, Head of the Unspeakables, frowned as he put down the latest issue of the Quibbler. "Let's see it."


Harry sat at the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place listening to Sirius as he held court during dinner. Laughter and mayhem seemed to be the soup du jour. In Harry's opinion it made for a lively contrast to meals at the Dursley's.

According to the adults, there was an Order Meeting tonight so several people that Harry had never met before sat around the table with them. Tonks was at the far end, showing off her amazing technicolor skills as a metamorphmagus. 'Interesting person Tonks,' Harry mused. 'Hard to believe she is Sirius' cousin.'

Harry stifled a sigh. He had at first been thrilled that Sirius wanted him to live with him last spring but now, Harry wasn't too sure. His trust in adults was very flimsy at best and after he had a chance to sit down and think things through, he had to wonder about Sirius' motives.

Harry couldn't get over the fact that Sirius put revenge against Wormtail first, before making sure that toddler Harry was safe and well cared for. Shouldn't his top priority have been Harry and not revenge? Wormtail could have waited, after all. Instead he let his immature temper lead him to Azkaban and left Harry to 'gentle' care of the Dursleys.

Then there was Sirius' slip of tongue, from time to time, calling Harry – 'James.' Not to mention that this summer he hadn't gotten any mail or visits from his so-called Godfather. There were ways to visit without Dumbledore knowing and Merlin knows he had a house elf that could have delivered mail and food. Harry figured that he just wasn't that high on the food chain as far as Sirius was concerned, or anyone else for that matter.

Also Harry couldn't get past the heated discussion that he'd had with his friends about their lack of communication. Of course, according to them, he didn't write either. Well, how could he if Dumbledore had Hedwig? Not their problem, he was told. He had rounded on Hermione about using muggle mail and she only snapped that he could've too. He countered with the fact that the Dursley's screened all the post and how was he supposed to buy stamps for postage with no muggle money! His relatives certainly would not have given him any muggle money or stamps.

Hermione huffed and said it didn't matter. The headmaster had said not to contact Harry at all. At which point Harry gave up the argument as a lost cause. When they realize just how badly Dumbledore was snowing everyone, it'd be too late.

"Now you children," Molly said as she started to clear the table. "Go into the other rooms. The meeting will be starting soon."

Harry found himself ushered out of the dining room and up the stairs. The twins wore a knowing smirk as they pulled out what looked to be a set of ears tied to a string.

Harry half-listened to their explanation as he went to the room he shared with Ron. Once he was sure that no one was following him, he closed the door before calling for Dobby.

"Is it in place, Dobby?" he asked, plopping onto his cot.

"Yes, Master Harry, sir. I'se attached it to under the table likes you's said so. Will it work? It's not going to cause you'se problems?"

Harry smiled. "No, Dobby. No problems. No one saw you?"

Dobby shook his head, his long ears whipping back and forth. "No Master Harry Sir. Anything else?"

"No, Dobby, just retrieve it after the meeting is over with," Harry smiled, dismissing his little friend.

Harry couldn't believe his luck. He hadn't had much of a chance to field test the little walkman recorder that he had bought in Surrey. With the help of Dobby, he had charmed the thing to run on magic instead of batteries. Of course, he could get into a lot of trouble if it was found out, but what's a little risk versus a lot of knowledge?

He just had to know if the Order was on to him and his letters to the Quibbler. Plus he wanted to know what they were doing to fight Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Since he couldn't do much right now and was alone, he might as well work on another letter to the Quibbler.


Xeno watched the antics of his daughter Luna as she ran around the garden chasing flying wrackspurts. She was the light of his life since the death of her mother. She was the only joy he had left in the world and he worried about her when she went away to Hogwarts. An owl came to rest by him with a letter breaking into his thoughts. He turned to the owl and gently removed the letter from its leg.

"There is food and water in the kitchen help yourself," he said as he opened the letter.

Dear Mr. Lovegood,

Your reply made for a very interesting read last time and I will take your concerns to heart. Neither do I wish to be brought before the Wizengamot for libel, even if I am still under-age. For as we all know now, being under age is no protection.

Since you and I are discussing trials, I was very interested to learn, by eavesdropping on Potter and his little friends, that Sirius Black was never given a trial. Very bad form that, if you ask me, since he is after all Head of an Ancient and Noble House.

If the ministry can so blatantly do that to one head of an ancient and noble house, what keeps from them doing it to another? Oh I forgot, they did. According to the Prophet, Potter is also the Head of an Ancient and Noble House, even if he is underage and look at the farce of a trial he was given.

Where was Albus Dumbledore in all this? Why didn't Professor Dumbledore push for a trial for Black? He was head of the Wizengamot at the time and it was certainly within his power to do so. Why did he stand by and condone such a miscarriage of justice when three little drops of veritaserum would've put paid to the whole matter?

Last spring, I managed to overhear Potter and his little cohorts discussing Black. Did you know he was Potter's Godfather? And according to what I overheard, he wasn't even the Potter's Secret Keeper? Potter mentioned someone by the name of Peter Pettigrew was. Potter claimed that Pettigrew was alive and hiding and no one was seeming to take him seriously when he told them about it. Here again I ask, where was the veritaserum or pensieve memory?

And what was the Ministry doing sending Dementors to Hogwarts two years ago? I was at the game where Potter was almost Kissed. Yes almost kissed! What kept them from going rogue with all the fresh, impressionable minds around school? What was the Ministries' take on all this? Why, it was to keep us safe from a lone serial killer!

Oh please, Dementors have killed more people than Black allegedly did. So isn't putting a hungry pack of wolves in with the lambs and then expecting them to behave rather idiotic? Don't you think a lone serial killer whose only target is said to be Harry Potter is far less of a threat than a pack of dementors who don't care whose soul they happen to suck? Lunch is served at Hogwarts and the students are the main course!

What is the policy of veritaserum on minors and pensive memories used in trial? Why haven't Potter and his cohorts been questioned and their memories viewed to confirm or deny their statements? Or is the Ministry afraid that the truth might actually come out and make them look the fool?

The more I dig through this little fiasco, the more it has holes the size of bludgers in it. Also, what about the Queen's law? Is the Ministry so removed from reality that they forget to acknowledge British Common Law? We are, after all, still the Queen's subjects.

Maybe I shouldn't question things. Maybe I should be a sheep and do nothing, like most wizards. However, I like to sleep at night with a clear conscience, if you can understand that concept. It would seem not many in the Wizarding World do.

Oliver Twist


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