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        "Oh, Ralph. I'm sorry. I know this looks bad to you," Dennis said. "But it's all very… very complicated. Prescott's show, Inside View, they offer money for proof of the supernatural. Well, we haven't been doing all that well, son. I've been looking for work ever since I got laid off, but it's been hard. We needed the money. I thought the Chocolate Frog would be enough. I really did! But Prescott wanted more. I knew I'd have to show him something really amazing, so…" He faltered, glancing nervously around the room again.

        "But you never got the money," Merlin said in his low, rumbling voice. "And that wasn't the real point, was it?"

        Dennis' eyebrows worked furiously as he gazed up at Merlin, apparently struggling with what to say. Next to him, Sacarhina cleared her throat meaningfully. Dennis glanced at her, taking his eyes from Merlin. "The money," he said uncertainly, "Prescott said we'd get it when the program aired. He promised."

        "But there will be no program now," Merlin said quietly.

        "You thought it'd be worth selling out the whole magical world just to help us get by for awhile, Dad?" Ralph said, his voice not accusing, but truly questioning. It broke James' heart to hear the disappointment in the boy's voice.

        "No, son!" Dennis answered, but then looked away. "I didn't think it'd threaten the whole magical world. I mean, it's just a stupid television show. Besides…" He stopped, chewing on his words, wrestling with himself.

        "Besides what?" Merlin asked calmly.

        Dennis looked back at Merlin, his face tense, his right eyebrow twitching. "Besides, what did the magical world ever do for me?" he spat, then covered his face with his hands again. He took a deep, shuddering breath. "Left me all alone, that's what. Shunned and abandoned, like some kind of… some kind of worthless mutant! Stripped of my name and my family, abandoned by my own parents because I wasn't like them! I was forbidden to ever contact them or speak of them again. They said I'd be adopted into the Muggle world, where I belonged. They said I'd be happier there. Well, I guess I showed them, didn't I? They didn't want me to ruin their reputation in the magical world. Well, why should I care about the secrecy of the magical world at all?"

        Ralph's face was a mask of unhappy consternation. "What are you talking about, Dad? You're not a wizard. Grandma and Grandpa died before I was born. You were as surprised as me when we got the letter from Hogwarts."

Dennis tried to smile at his son. "I'd almost forgotten about my own past, Ralph. It had been so long, and I'd tried so hard to bury it. I'm a Squib, son. Your grandparents and your uncle were witches and wizards, but I wasn't born with their powers. They raised me for as long as they could, but they hated my nature. When I came of age and they could see for sure that I didn't have any magical skills, they couldn't bear it. They hid me from the rest of the magical world. I was their ugly little secret. But they couldn't hide me forever. Finally, when I was twelve, they sent me away. I went to a Muggle orphanage, under the pretense that my parents had died in an accident. They made me vow never to mention them and never to try and seek them. My mother was… she was sad. She cried and hid her face from me. But my father was hard. She couldn't budge him. He hired a Muggle driver to take us to the orphanage. Mother stayed in the car when my father took me inside. She tried to embrace me, to say goodbye, but Father wouldn't let her. He said it would be better for both of us. He performed memory modifications on the workers at the orphanage. He made them believe I had been delivered by the state after the deaths of my parents. I was given a bed and a set of clothes, and then my father left. I never saw my parents again."

        Dennis Deedle's eyes didn't leave his son's face when Merlin spoke. "You were very hard done by, Mr. Deedle. I assume Deedle is not your given name, is it?"

        "No. My father invented that name for me," Dennis said blandly. "I hate it."

        "What is your given name, sir?"

        "Dolohov," Ralph's father answered, his voice growing distant, almost dead. "My name is Denniston Gilles Dolohov. Son of Maximillion and Whilhelmina Dolohov. Younger step-brother of Antonin."

        There was a moment of very cold silence, and then McGonagall spoke. "Mr. Dolohov, do you realize that what you've done could send you to Azkaban?"

        Dennis blinked, as if coming out of a trance. "What? No, no, of course not. I was promised that nothing I did was against the law."

        Sacarhina coughed lightly. "Perhaps, Mr. Deedle, you'd prefer to refrain from answering any more questions until your legal representation can be present."

        "Why?" Dennis said, glancing at her in alarm. "Am I in trouble? You said--"

        "It would be for your best interests, sir," Sacarhina interrupted.

        "You said I was doing the world a favor!" Dennis exclaimed, getting to his feet. He glanced at Harry. "She promised me that I'd be taken care of even if Prescott and his people didn't come through with the money! She said this was more important than money, anyway! When I came to them--"

        "Sit down, Mr. Deedle!" Sacarhina said, her voice icy.

"Don't call me that! I hate that name!" Dennis backed away from her, glancing back at Harry. "They told me it was all right to talk to Prescott! I told them what I was thinking of doing. I knew I had to check with the Ministry. They said the contract I'd signed wasn't binding because I wasn't a Muggle. And I left the wizarding world before I was old enough to sign the Wizarding Vow of Secrecy, too, so I wasn't breaking any laws. She promised me it was all right! She said it was for everybody's good and that I'd be a hero!"

        "Miss Sacarhina," Harry said, producing his wand, but not quite brandishing it, "what do you have to say in response to this man's accusations?"

        "I have nothing to say whatsoever," she replied easily. "He is clearly deranged. No one would believe the word of such a person."

        "Mr. Recreant?" Harry said, turning to the stunned man. "Do you concur with Miss Sacarhina's assessment?"

        Recreant's eyes moved like flies, flicking back and forth between Sacarhina and Harry. "I'd…," he began, and then lowered both his eyes and his voice. "I'd like the chance to discuss this outside of Miss Sacarhina's hearing."

        "Mr. Recreant, as your superior, I forbid--"

        "You'll forbid nothing, Madam," Neville said sternly, slipping his own wand from his robes.

        "In the name of ambassadorial security, I have to insist…," Sacarhina began, but stopped as Harry pointed his wand at her.

        "In the name of the Ministry of Magic and the Auror Department," he said, "I place you, Miss Brenda Sacarhina, under arrest for attempted violation of section two of the International Code of Wizarding Secrecy and for the theft of Ministry of Magic property."

        Sacarhina tried to smile, but it was a relatively poor attempt. "You can't prove anything, Mr. Potter. This is a foolish and dangerous game you are playing. I will only warn you once to stand down."

        "You should think twice before conspiring with people who despise you, Miss Sacarhina," Merlin said, smiling ruefully. "I had a charming and illuminating conversation with Madame Delacroix when I discovered her in the forest. She has much to say about you, I'm afraid, and very little of it is what I'd be prepared to call flattering."