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Harry Potter Squib Tales Chapter 88: Solutions to Problems
🕑 Added 2025-09-10 16:02:06 +0000 UTCChapter 88: Solutions to Problems
“Thank you for coming over to help, Edward,” my mother said, wearing a faint smile on her face as she dug through several old chests.
“Sure, it’s no problem,” I replied as I sifted through a wardrobe full of robes that’d fallen out of fashion three hundred years ago.
Mother had wanted to do a bit of late Spring Cleaning in Lumpkin Patch before Rudy came home from Hogwarts, and I’d wanted to spend some time with her after only a few brief interactions at New Years and Easter, so here I was, on a weekend in May, looking through old odds and ends that’d been gathering dust for untold generations.
Inky could have done it – and he’d already done a lot – but there were some things we had to look through personally, to decide whether or not to keep any of it.
Magical Families tended to be hoarders for a couple different reasons, so we had plenty to go through. And the boxes and crates around us were a fraction of everything the Hunches had collected over the many, many years.
‘You can almost see the progression of the family’s fortunes in these piles,’ I thought to myself as I browsed the items.
The oldest items were of a higher quality than the rest. You knew by looking at them the Hunch family had been Old Money. And we had been around for nine hundred years or so. Our family traced its lineage to a Norman mage in William the conqueror’s court, who’d been given land in Ottery St. Catchpole when old Bill had crowned him King of England. Apparently, my ancestor’s magic had helped the ships cross the English Channel safely.
Also, another fun fact, but the Norman invasion and conquest is what spurred the creation of Hogwarts! Over a hundred thousand people (both magical and mundane) were displaced or fled to Scotland when William came a-knocking, Gryffindor and Slytherin being two of them. The former was a noble and part of Harold Godwinson’s court and thus on the losing side, while Slytherin… well, records are sparse, but he seems to have just been a regular dude living in London who lost his home to the invaders.
Which, honestly, explained why he didn’t exactly like Muggles, and also why Hogwarts ended up being built in the hinterlands of Scotland and not near any major population center, like Beauxbatons being near Paris.
As for the Hunches, we were properly made into magical nobility around three hundred years later in 1389 A.D., which was when the Wizengamot really started to take off. It had first been formed in 1212, but didn’t get popular until a century later.
However, in the 18th century, our fortunes changed, and if you knew the timelines, you could tell this was a result of the Statute of Secrecy. After it was established, the 1700s were a downward spiral for the Hunches as we had previously used our magic for magical landscaping and construction. Our name, Hunch, was related to the hills we used to conjure with magic.
Without being able to sell our services to the wealthy Muggles who'd been our biggest customers, our fortunes dwindled, leading to our current status as Pureblooded nobles without a seat on the Wizengamot, or any real land or wealth of note.
Still, we had kept a crap-ton of antiques. Why anyone needed a stuffed Mooncalf, a painting of fruit that made you hungry when you looked at it, or a morbid Butterfly-esque collection of Doxies was beyond me, but there was some cool stuff hidden amongst the junk.
“Mother, do you want this?” I asked her, holding up a red and silver dress.
“Oh, no, dear. You can give it to Delilah if you want,” she told me, and I nodded gratefully before setting it aside.
I honestly wanted the dress for the runes that’d been woven it: an enchantment designed to turn the clothing it was applied to impervious to stains of any kind. The dress also had an ingenious way to disguise the runic arrays amongst the lace, and I knew Hildegarde would be interested. Though I supposed Delilah would also like it when the dwarf was done studying the runes.
In the pile of stuff I was taking for myself were some more unicorn horn potion stirrers, a collection of cutlery made of dragon bone, a pair of Manticore leather boots, a writing quill made from an actual Pegasus feather (not an Abraxan, which was like comparing dogs to wolves), six enchanted goblets that purified any harmful substances put into them, several interesting pieces of magical jewelry that I wanted to study more closely, a magical portrait of cute baby animals playing together that created an aura of peace and tranquility in whomever viewed it, and a bunch of books, including some that detailed old family potion recipes, botany guides, and instructions on magical creature husbandry, as well as family secrets regarding magical architecture and landscaping.
The books were definitely going to be useful as I expanded into North America with my businesses, and the rest of the stuff was going to look very nice in my penthouse apartment.
‘The place will be ready before Harry comes back for the summer!’ I thought happily. ‘He’s going to love his new bedroom!’
I moved on from the wardrobe to a wooden chest that looked like something pirates would fill with treasure and then bury. I paused as I lifted aside couple of old top hats, and found a book staring back at me. The cover was some kind of leather, but what really caught my eye were the precious gems set into it, along with the gold and silver chains binding it and keeping the pages closed.
The tome seemed old. Really, really old! But the magic preserving it was also incredibly potent, and I carefully extracted it from the bottom of the chest.
Looking at the chains, I carefully prodded them with a finger, and they glowed a little before snapping apart, allowing me to access the contents of the tome. Curious, I opened it up, and found myself graced with page after page of colored ink. It was closer to an illuminated medieval manuscript than the grimoire I’d expected, and the little pictures in the corners and margins were moving around.
‘This isn’t paper, this is vellum!’ I realized in shock as I ran a finger over the slightly yellowed pages. This was ancient! So old, in fact, that even the preservation spells hadn’t been able to keep it fully untouched by the passage of time.
Now thoroughly intrigued, I began to read, and found it contained a bunch of Latin and Old English. Yet the further in I went, the more the words changed, becoming Middle English and then Early Modern!
I flipped all the way to the end, and found perfectly legible – if still a bit old – English detailing that somebody called ‘Jerome’ had tried to plant some mistletoe trees on ‘their’ side of the boundary line.
‘Let’s see what else is here… ah, here’s an entry about a woman named ‘Witherspoon’ who is having an affair with the heir of Sandwich… wait? As in, the Earl of Sandwich?’ I wondered in surprise. ‘And hang on, here’s a page that just talks about a fellow named ‘Dellson’ who bought eight jars of premium honey from… Lumpkin Patch Apiaries? We used to own bees?’
I read some more, curious about everything, and soon came to a realization: this was a journal! And not just any journal, but a diary written in by every single member of House Hunch, dating back to before even the Norman invasion!
Gossip… rumors… business transaction data… and perhaps most importantly, blackmail material. So much blackmail material!
‘Oh-ho-ho! Someone was being very naughty, weren’t they, Lord Cruxis Nott?’ I thought with a sinister grin. ‘To think that your family made their fortune by illegally poaching unicorns! Oh, if this came out now, they’d string up the entire Nott family and purge them from the Rolls of Nobility!’
It did explain where all the unicorn horn stirring sticks came from, though. They were the price for my ancestor, Tarbelion Hunch, keeping his mouth shut. So much dirty laundry help within this book! So much information that would gut the Pureblood faction.
After all, the Parkinsons would never want the truth that the Lord had married a Muggleborn in 1897, and simply fabricated her birth status by claiming she was a disowned bastard child from a Romanian Pureblood house! If this came out, they would lose their vaunted ‘Pureblood’ status amongst their peers.
I quickly added the journal to the pile. This was probably the most important object in the entire house! And it had been lying under a bunch of hats, forgotten for decades if not centuries!
‘How can I take advantage of this, though?’ I thought to myself. I’d have to research it, see what was hidden within.
There were a lot of old rules nobody really followed anymore but were still technically on the books and thus still considered official. These Dead Letter Laws could still be of use. After all, magically enforced laws operated differently.
I thought about how Malfoy had been trying to snipe the Greengrasses through some taxes, and I wondered if there was a method for me to help my allies out.
Then, I recalled how a couple Aurors and Ministry goons were sniffing around me as well. They seemed to think that all these potion ingredient purchases were some sort of scam or money laundering scheme.
‘Hm. I might have need of this sooner than I expected,’ I thought to myself. ‘Better get it to my lawyers.’
They should be able to look through it and figure out what sort of legal defenses I could muster in case I couldn’t bribe or mind-wipe the problems away.
‘Boy, I’m really starting to get used to using underhanded means to keep my secrets,’ I realized with a pang.
A month ago, I’d been stressing over using potions to drug an old man. Now here I was thinking about how to best get rid of problematic government officials who were only doing their jobs!
‘I’m going to have to keep an eye on myself,’ I thought with a grimace. I did not want to become another Dumbledore, no matter how much better I’d be at it.
Instead, I shook those ideas out of my head, and picked up another item from the sorting pile, and held it up to my mother. “Hey, mom, do you want this charcuterie board that makes it impossible for cheese to get stuck in the wood? Because if you don’t, I will definitely take it!”
111 &&& 111
I sat in a waiting room, resisting the urge to kick my legs like a child. Or jiggle my leg impatiently. The ‘tick-tock!’ of the clock sounded far too loud in my ears, and I wondered why time seemed to be moving so slowly.
‘If only I could replicate this effect on purpose to give myself extra time in the day,’ I thought to myself in annoyance.
At my side, Edward Tonks sent me a knowing look. He knew I wanted to get this over with, but I couldn’t help it! I was excited and waiting was so annoying!
“Mr. Tarsworth with see you now,” the secretary said politely a moment later, ending my torment, and I quickly stood up, gave her a grateful nod, and went inside the office to speak with my lawyer with Mr. Tonks following behind.
“Mr. Rose, Mr. Tonks good to see you,” the older Squib said, giving me a small smile. “Especially when there aren’t some terrible legal matters hanging over your heads.”
“Same,” I agreed, shaking his hand. “I appreciate you doing what you could while I was dealing with Sir Briar.”
“Of course, you’re my client,” he said with a nod. “Now, you said you needed a consultation?”
“Of course,” I replied. “Mr. Tonks and I wished to speak with you about a couple matters relating to magical law.”
“Magical law? I’m afraid I am not experienced in that matter at all,” he said, blinking. “Mr. Tonks here would know far more than I.”
“True, but your insight would be appreciated, especially as somebody so close to the Squibs as you are,” I claimed. “After all, this is what that is about.”
He tilted his head, then blinked. “Are you… Ah, I see. You want to see if you can get access to the dead vaults in Gringotts."
“Yes,” I nodded. “A lot of magical families were wiped out in both magical wars, and their wealth and possessions were either seized by the Ministry of Magic or the goblins. But, if there were actual heirs…”
Only magical individuals can inherit magical titles and property,” he reminded me.
“But that’s no issue with my ritual,” I reminded him. Archibald nodded slowly. He had been one of the first people I’d used it on when I was certain it wouldn’t hurt to use repeatedly. After all his hard work helping me and others, he deserved it.
“Still, it would be rather suspicious for some unknown magicals – especially those who never attended Hogwarts or were registered to the Ministry – to come out and demand their birthright.”
“Which is why we won’t be going to the Ministry, but the goblins,” I replied. “Their heritage tests don’t have to be conveyed to the Ministry. Not if we just want to see if anybody actually can inherit. And for now, that’s all we want to do. To check and see if any of the Squibs we know can potentially be used to throw some wrenches into the Ministry’s inheritance schemes.”
“Won’t be easy,” Archibald said with thoughtful frown. “And there is also the problem that without knowing the exact laws we cannot be sure the Ministry won’t block our attempts in the first place if they catch wind.”
“And that is where this baby comes in,” I said, nodding to Mr. Tonks who took a certain golden book out of his briefcase and handing it to me.
“Is that…?” Archibald gasped, staring at the book in my hands as if he was seeing a holy relic.
“Yup,” I said, popping the ‘p’ at the end loudly. “A genuine copy of the Laws Immutable, the codified lawbook that contains every single law and legal code ever conceived of by the Wizengamot.”
I flipped to a random page, and showed my fellow Squib the royal seal on it. “See? And it’s even got an enchantment that updates the book, so any laws that are added or removed automatically get recorded within.”
“I never thought I would see a copy myself, let alone hold it,” Archibald murmured as he took the book from me. “How do you have one of these?”
“The Noble House of Hunch used to be a lot more important than it is now,” I replied. “A lot of our power has disappeared, it’s true. Apparently around the time of the Statute of Secrecy, to be precise. Seems like my family wasn’t prepared for the sudden separation from the muggle world and lost a bunch wealth and influence. But, before that, they were one of the founding members of the original Wizengamot, and thus had the right to keep a copy of its laws. I don’t think my father or mother knew we had it, though.”
‘If father had known, he’d have definitely leveraged it among his Death Eater buddies,’ I thought darkly. ‘Best that he couldn’t abuse it. There are definitely a few laws in there that need to be changed.’
Yet as dangerous as it could have been for the Death Eaters to have a copy of Wizarding Britain’s laws, it was just as dangerous in the hands of myself and anyone opposed to them and their pureblood agenda. Because the Laws Immutable wasn’t just a catchy name, it referred to a series of laws that could not be changed without the reigning king or queen of England’s permission.
The Wizengamot was originally an independent council based on even older Druidic customs that was modified by Merlin himself into forming the basis of the modern Ministry of Magic. Its laws were old and literally untouchable by anyone other than the right and proper sovereign of the land.
After some time, the Wizengamot evolved to become basically Magical Britain’s version of the House of Lords. Even the position of Chief Warlock was originally that of the Court Magician, meaning they answered directly to whomever sat on the throne.
One law I’d found was a simple one: any citizen had the right to request a heritage test to see who they were related to. This mostly applied to orphans, bastards, and if people were trying to settle disputes over who could inherit when the line of succession wasn’t clear.
We could use it to get the goblins to test the Squibs and see if any of them were related to any nobles houses, alive or extinct, and there was nothing the Ministry could do about it.
And there was one other law among the Laws Immutable that could be used to crush the Death Eaters using their own backwards legal system.
This law in particular was part of the Crowne and Kith Code, which stated that magical citizens were not above the law of the mundane world. There was a lot of legal jargon, but it boiled down to, ‘if a magical person uses magic to kill someone without magic, or harms their person, property and/or livelihood, the victim (or their family) has the right to seek compensation from the perpetrator.’
Basically, it meant that magical folk could be sued by Muggles and taken to court if they did something, like Obliviate a Muggle after raping them, or used magic to commit murder and terror like what the Death Eaters did.
It might seem minor, given how few magical folk actually adhered to the rules of the Muggle world, but the Laws Immutable were backed by old magic, and if invoked could not be denied. Even if the Statue of Secrecy made this law moot for the most part, since Muggles wouldn’t even know they could do this in the first place, and it wouldn’t hold up in the international magical courts, it was still on the books in England, and thus was still viable to be used in the isles.
The local Purebloods had done a lot to remove knowledge of this and other laws over the years, making it very difficult for anyone except old magical families to actually know what their rights were. I’d done some discreet checking, and there were less than a hundred known copies left of the original Laws Immutable in all the world, and more than 90% were kept in Ministry or Pureblood vaults, locked away from the world.
I grinned evilly at the thought of what I could do to Voldemort and his cronies. For a moment, I daydreamed of what sort of look Voldemort would have if he got a magical subpoena in the mail. But I shook that off and got to the point.
“This won’t come into play for a while,” I told both lawyers as I outlined my ultimate plan. “Maybe even years. But the more time we have to build up a case against the Pureblooods and Death Eaters, the better.”
“It will cause chaos,” Archibald noted, but he didn’t seem that put-off by the idea. Just stating the facts. Mr. Tonks also seemed enthusiastic.
“I know,” I said grimly. “But that chaos is necessary. Things need to change. And they will, with or without our input. So, best to get on top of things so we can control what happens.”
“Is this related to… You Know Who?” Archibald asked darkly.
“Yes,” I confirmed solemnly.
“It’s true, then. He’s not dead,” the old lawyer said with a grimace. “The rumors…”
“Rumors?” I asked after sharing a look with Mr. Tonks.
“My family… I’ve kept in contact with them, you know? And they’ve heard… things. Rumors amongst the darker aligned families,” Archibald revealed. “Just whispers for now, but the fact remains that certain people have begun… moving, again. Old members of a certain masked snake club have been seen meeting up more frequently than ever. A few of my family believe it is to try and counter the sudden rise of the new Gold faction in the Wizengamot after it split from the Grey faction, and I do believe that to be the case, but it feels like there is something more to it than that.”
‘That’s not good,’ I thought with a scowl. This was a major change.
Rumors hadn’t started swirling about Voldemort’s return until after Harry’s Fourth Year and his resurrection. But now… perhaps it was because it had been Barty Crouch Jr. who’d found the Dark Lord, and not Pettigrew?
Junior was an insane psychopath, a true believer. He wouldn’t hide and skulk like a rat, keeping his head down until it was time to reveal themselves. Junior would keep to the shadows, but he’d also try to reach out to those who could aid the Dark Lord’s return. Former Death Eaters who went free. People who could get access to certain things.
Barty Crouch Sr. was dead, murdered in his own home. I knew it was done by his son whom he’d kept hidden all this time. But had Senior stayed alive, like in the books, Voldemort could have used him to obtain the different materials necessary for the ritual under the guise of needing them for some task in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.
Without that Ministry access in this timeline, Junior had to rely on either his own acquisition abilities, which would be limited by the fact he was supposed to be dead and thus had no access to the family fortune and contacts, or he could go the easy route and get a Death Eater or two involved.
Whether or not these people knew Barty Jr. was helping Voldemort or not was immaterial. The Death Eaters were stirring once more, and it was a bad idea all around to let them do as they pleased.
“This job just became a lot more important,” I said with a grim tone. “Mr. Tarsworth, Mr. Tonks, I’ll need you both to work as hard as you can on this to get a legal case set up. We’re going to need it sooner than I’d hoped.”
We’d still need at least a year to have everything prepared, so the quicker they got to work, the better.
“Find out who amongst our circle of allies can take a heritage test, and then dig even deeper and find out who we can get in on a Class Action Lawsuit against the Death Eaters. I want them to be strung up by their balls the moment they do something criminal and stupid,” I ordered, and both men nodded. They also knew just how important this was.
Satisfied by the two of them agreeing to work with me, we went over a bit more legal stuff that I needed to discuss with them about expanding Avalon Industries even further. There was just so much paperwork to do when it came to running a business, it boggled the mind!
Comments
Alatoic
They need to keep all of this as close to the chest as possible, inheritance of only dead families that will not create waves as once its knew the purebloods will try to stop then in the no legal way. Same with the punitive actions, better to confirm who can inherit a seat or take away power from purebloods bigots and wait for the right moment and shock them.
Catherine Colin
Idk that was the first wacky law my brain made lol. Can we get a chapter omake of Ed just reading random wacky laws?
Catherine Colin
Woooo lets go fuck with the purebloods. Random law: a witch is not allowed to have physical relations with a centaur; a wizard can only have relations on nights of full-moon that fall on a day ending in Y. (Full-moon is defined as the moon is in the sky at all.)
