Sometimes, Harry really hated wizards.
Standing in front of the Minister of Magic himself as the man nervously twisted his bowler hat in his hands and reassured Harry that they would get him back to his Aunt and Uncle as soon as possible ("I'll have some Aurors over bright and early to take you back!"), he could easily say this was one of the those times. Harry made up his mind.
"But what if I don't want to go back?" He said with a slightly stubborn and irritated tone in his voice. The Minister looked shocked.
"Of course you want to go back! Your family loves you. Why, you're the Boy Who Lived! What will they do without you?" He said as he slowly led Harry towards the backroom of The Leaky Cauldron, all the while looking around anxiously for spectators. Harry stopped short and refused to be moved.
"I don't know, Mr. Minister, what would they do without their own personal house elf? I guess you're right, without me who would Dudley try out all his newest insults on? He came up with a particularly clever one the other day. It went something like, 'Hey, freak! Why'd your mom and dad die? Oh, right, because they couldn't stand to look at your ugly mug anymore, so got so drunk that they crashed their car!'" Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, I guess it wasn't that clever. Best he could come up with though. Can't fault him for being an idiot, he doesn't know better. Not like you and me. We're not idiots, are we, Mr. Minister?" His voice had grown cold and soft by the end. The events of the night ran through his head, over and over again, each time leaving him a little angrier than the last. The blood pounded through his head and all he could think about was the fact that this man – this stupid, incompetent little man, the same one that somehow thought it was a good idea to pull Dumbledore from Hogwarts with a bloody giant snake on the loose turning the students into stone – was trying to send him back again. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he noticed that the room had gone dead silent, with all of the occupants of the seedy little bar focused solely on him. Fudge tittered nervously. He opened his mouth to say something that would no doubt be quite foolish when Harry cut him off.
"No, we're not. So we don't get the luxury of making mistakes. And when we inevitably make them anyway, we don't get the luxury of claiming ignorance, do we?" He didn't wait for a response, which was probably a good thing, as Fudge had just opened his mouth to protest that even smart people don't know everything (which would undoubtedly blow a very large hole in Harry's argument). Being so entranced with the scene – The Boy Who Lived speaking so boldly to the Minister of Magic and the things he was saying were enough to dislodge any normal wizard's logic – no one noticed this. "We, instead, are charged with fixing the mistakes of others, aren't we?" Fudge nodded frantically here, to appease the who, who had begun to slowly nod their agreement of this philosophy. Harry smiled and continued.
"I'm glad you'll agree. So, you'll be taking it upon yourself to fix the obvious mistake you made earlier in deciding to send me back to my relatives? Of course you will. Because, you, Mr. Minister, sir, are not a stupid man."
Fudge nodded, but it was not a frantic nod, nor was it a happy one. It was a slow, defeated nod of one who was really dreading something.
"I'm glad we agree. And, as a smart man, you are charged with fixing the mistake of the one who placed me with them in the first place, am I correct?" Fudge agreed to this as well. "Perfect. You're a good man, Mr. Minister, sir. I expect my emancipation papers by tomorrow. I'll be staying here, I think, so have Tom send them up first thing. And I'd like my vault key as well please. I believe the groundskeeper at Hogwarts has a copy. He's a nice bloke and, once you tell him about my relatives and my emancipation, I'm sure he'll have no trouble agreeing. And don't be frightened if he looks a little angry about what you tell him. It won't be directed at you. Nor will that of the Wizarding world when this inevitably appears in the papers. I'll expect they'll be quite happy with you when they hear about the steps you took to get me out of there." He stopped talking and stared at Fudge, waiting for his response. After a moment or two, Fudge took his cue.
"Oh, of course! It's such a tragedy, truly! We'll have you out of there in no time, my dear boy! You can expect of formal apology on behalf of all of the Wizarding government for not knowing about this sooner."
Things went quickly after that. Fudge departed in a rush. Harry was mobbed by witches and wizards of all ages, enquiring how he was feeling and offering their condolences towards the life he had lived. Fury gone, he was left sheepish and uncomfortable being the center of attention. He was oddly embarassed. He was not used to speaking of his life so openly or manipulating someone so easily. He didn't manipulate people often. But he was pretty good at it when he did. It was one of those slytherin qualities he tried to keep under wraps. As soon as possible, he escaped to his room.
Sitting on his bed and petting Hedwig, he pondered on what had just happened and the consequences of his actions. He couldn't think of many bad ones.