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Disclaimer: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does unless otherwise noted at the beginning of a chapter. - Summary: Amid plans of conspiracy, plans for coup d'etats, and the impending crime of the century, it is up to Harry to prevent his own destruction. With the help of his two best friends and the crazy antics of a certain raven-haired dueler, Harry prepares to fight the battle of a lifetime, one that could very well be his last.
- IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the sequel to HP and the Legend of the Golden Serpent. It is highly recommened that you read the GS first if you haven't already.
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Prologue
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An extremely powerful use of force requires the presence of an equally powerful catalyst energy. It is our recommendation, after thirteen years of study, that further investigation be provided into the amazing survival of Harry Potter. The mysteries and inconsistencies following the boy's life warrant further questioning of Mr. Potter's nature blatant fabrication of tales claiming the inconceivable innocence of Sirius Black the unconfirmed assailant in the murder of Cedric Diggory is still at large, and Potter is still claiming a ludicrous tale of placing responsibility upon He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. an unbalanced force is unhealthy to the fabric of our existence, and until the mysteries revolving around Harry Potter can be absolved, there is a present, if not clear, danger posed to our society. While our constituents are continuing to rejoice in the boy's survival, it is not our place to join in the celebrations, but to put aside the public sentiment and focus on the more pressing matter at hand: The implications of the boy's survival." |
Minister Corneilius Fudge slowly lowered the report to his desk, and at the same time, reached into his pocket and withdrew a gray handkerchief, which he used to wipe the perspiration from his forehead.
"You are not serious," he ordered as he jumped up, his eyes narrowed at the two before him. "This, this is utterly ridiculous! The very notion, the very thought!"
The man before him took a step forward, placing his hands on Fudge's desk, and hunching over, so that he looked up at the Minister behind drooped eyelids.
"We are not in the business of fooling around. The report is serious. Our findings are serious. Our request for your approval is serious," the man paused for a second, and then straightened, his white-blonde hair reflecting the dusk glow filtering through the office windows. "Serious as Avada Kedavra."
Fudge flinched. "I don't know. I don't know," he mumbled, sitting into his chair, suddenly feeling the strength in his legs give out. He once again reached for the report, this time with trembling hands.
"Serious as Avada Kedavra," Fudge murmured, staring at the report. "You question his motives then?"
Lucius Malfoy stared at Fudge for a moment, a small smirk playing on the corner of his thin lips. "I question his existence. I question his future."
Fudge stroked the bottom of his chin, breathing out a long and uncomfortable sigh. His eyes fell on the other person in the room, who had turned away from the desk and was looking at the far wall, where a floor to ceiling bookcase ran its length. It was filled to capacity with books, some withered and tattered, some new and still in their magi-seal casing. There were framed newspaper articles scattered along the shelves, and Fudge could see that the man was staring at the Daily Prophet article dated November 1, 1981.
Fudge turned his attention back to Mr. Malfoy, who had sat in one of the high backed, velvet chairs that stood before the Minister's desk. Malfoy had his fingers tented before him, and was staring intently at Fudge.
Holding back a shiver, Fudge preceded to continue the meeting. "Do you question his sister?" Fudge asked, realizing that not once Adrienne was mentioned in the report, although Dumbledore had informed Fudge about her existence earlier in the year, classified information which he had surreptitiously let leak to the Department of Mysteries.
"She poses no threat," Lucius answered.
"She's just as mysterious as Harry seems to be," Fudge argued, not moving.
Lucius smiled an ominous grin that showed his perfectly white teeth. Fudge couldn't shake the feeling that Lucius was now mocking him.
"She is not a parselmouth. She didn't claim a story that Sirius Black was innocent, and instead, the dead Peter Pettigrew had risen and confessed to assisting with the murder of Lily and James Potter. She did not disappear from the Tri-Wizard Tournament and return with a dead competitor, the only competitor that stood in the way of victory. And, may I remind you Minister, she did not vanquish the Dark Lord at the age of fifteen months. She is not under suspicion," Lucius said in a cold, slow drawl.
Fudge looked away in thought, his hand moving from his chin to his mouth, where it rested on his lips in contemplation.
"We have reason to believe that Harry Potter is a threat to us," Lucius continued. "And if he is a threat to us, he is a threat to you, Minister."
Fudge turned back to stare at Lucius. "What do you mean by that?" he asked in a low voice, a slight growl appearing when it hadn't since he was a young man.
"He means, Minister, that there is only one logical reason why He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would want to be rid of the boy." The other man had redirected his attention from the bookshelf and was striding over to the desk.
"I'll give you one guess to what that reason would be," Lucius said, placing his folded hands at the edge of Fudge's desk.
"You Know Who saw him as a threat," Fudge whispered, his eyes widening as the answer dawned on him.
"Precisely," Lucius answered, leaning forward.
"He knew, Minister, he knew something about little Harry Potter that no one else did. And we are only now beginning to piece it together," the other man answered, sitting down next to Lucius.
"And it's becoming more visible with each year. Harry Potter could very well be the next Dark Lord," Lucius answered.
Fudge didn't reply to this. He stayed sitting for a moment, staring at Lucius, but found that he could no longer look at the man, and instead drew himself up from the chair and walked around his desk, his Italian shoes making no noise on the thick carpeting.
"Fudge, if we do not continue our investigation and Potter does indeed transform into a miniature replica of the Dark Lord, it will only be a matter of time before the public finds out that we, for all these years, had known about Potter, but never chose to investigate it further. The destruction of our way of life, our safe society, the world we have re-built, will lie solely upon your shoulders then, Fudge. It will be your head that hangs for it." Lucius' voice was silky and low, a menacing hiss resonating that Fudge didn't pick up on.
Fudge stared at the article standing in a gold frame on the bookcase. The very article that had announced He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's defeat. Fudge slowly looked away, his eyes suddenly weary, not fixating on anything in particular, his mind racing.
"Minister, you alone have the power to prevent the onslaught of another Dark Era. If we can prove Potter's true intentions, you will be remembered for all time as the one who saved us from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's successor."
Fudge slowly looked over his shoulder. Lucius and the other man were sitting with their backs to him, still staring at where Fudge had been moments earlier.
"Sign our request. Let us finish the investigation, and we promise you, Minister, that we will expose Harry Potter by the end of his sixth term at Hogwarts. You can then decide what to do with him, how to administer punishment to the embodiment of evil who is right now planning his ascension into power," Lucius said, his voice even softer. "Let us finish our investigation. Let us finally bring peace to our world."
Lucius stared, his face expressionless except for the faint smirk at the corners of his unaged face. His gray eyes were locked on the small reflection of Fudge provided by the silver bowl on the shelf behind his desk. Lucius' smile grew as Fudge began, ever so slowly, to walk back to his desk, an elderly hand reaching into the breast pocket of his suit.
"Do I have your assurances that your investigation will be up to a respectable standard?" Fudge asked as he took his seat, twirling his quill between his fingers, and flipping through the pages of the report lying open on his desk.
"We will follow all the rules of fairness, but with all due respect, Minister, we can't guarantee how useful our usual techniques may be against such a boy. He's outsmarted everyone for so long. We may need to use less conventional techniques," Lucius answered, eyeing Fudge for a reaction.
Fudge stared at him, trying to read his expression. "You will use techniques that will not embarrass me, that will not come back to haunt me later, will you not?" Fudge asked, but his tone of voice indicated it was not a request, but an order.
Lucius nodded. "Minister, you have our word."
Fudge slowly dipped his quill into the inkbottle, and then signed his name upon the dotted line that Lucius had indicated.