Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter characters, books etc. in any way... J. K. Rowling does and I simply use her world for a bit of storytelling.

AN: You may find a long abandoned story House of Shards. This work aims to finish the original without the clutter it brought. I must continue under a new account as the original password, and the e-mail account linked to it, is long lost. Think of it as a leaner, meaner version of the story. May Ian Richardson smile on you all.


Chapter I: The Prodigal Son Returns

Lo' behold! The Isle of Avalon. The answer to all our hopes and dreams. The land of Emerald stretches before me. Many kings have shed blood for the briefest glimpse of it. I however Am not a king. Stand on its fertile shore, Stranger, and watch it be forgotten.

-Baubles of the Blind-

Nothing lasts forever. Even the seamlessly unbreakable tyranny is swept away by the ceaseless and never aging time and replaced with something else. I stress the word 'something' in my statement for it does not mean that the ways of conduct in the political arena will change for the better simply because someone believes he has the will or the right to try.

Too often is the mob that wrestled away the shackles of power from a terrible monster that wielded them encouraged to destroy everything that the creature used to drain some blood. Too often people dismantle that which was before and plunge the country into new darkness.

There is a new age coming. Not many can recognize the shivers of ominous anticipation. None of them can see the signs. Soon, very soon, we will be more vulnerable than ever before.

They should feel it in their bones. Their survival instinct should propel them to take up arms against this unknown fear. Instead, they will close their eyes, avert their heads and like thousands of lemmings run directly to the edge of a cliff.

You may ask how I know all this; where in my feverish mind I have stumbled across this information. Trust me then as I say that you cannot trust me. Know then that you will never know what the other truth is. The only version of it I can present to you is the one I believe to be the closest to my beliefs and knowledge.

What? You want to know my name? I cannot see how it could do any harm. Oh, do I see your lips twitching in a sudden recognition of my familiar features? Do I smile politely as your eyes widen when you hear my bitter words? You would not expect me to say them, yet I do, but not out loud, of course. Is my scar enough? The lightning bolt-like reminder of who I used to be. You must know by now.

Have it your way! Nowadays, I go by Lord Harry, of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, and as of today your representative in the Wizengamot.


It is just another bleak day on our beloved isle. Few streets from the neo-gothic beauty of the Westminster stands an old, shabby-looking building. The occasional pedestrian may wonder, why no one cares to remove this monstrosity from the times long past- as it clearly defies every single statute of the realm concerning safety and hygiene regulations. Someone should just tear it down.

We wizards, the others, the abnormally gifted, however you may call us, flock to that construction every day as if it were a center of the universe. To Muggle eye it may seem that we simply want to make a call from an old red telephone booth at the end of that very familiar street. Those eyes are deceiving you. Who uses them anymore?

We defend ourselves by creating these small ruses and hiding places. Maybe it is something about the plain sight that makes a statement about my people. We are always just one illusion away from a catastrophe that would endanger our very lives. It is a mistake that has to be addressed. You will need someone from Wizengamot, a man with political clouts and pockets full favours and money if you want to make sense of all of this.

Me? I am nobody. The former hero and Saviour of the Wizarding world…Thanks to our beloved media I can finally move freely for now.

Was there a prophecy about me? What did the papers do? They printed out rumours, lots of them. There once was Harry Potter a hero. He is no more. Popularity ebbs away as fast as the feeble paper surrenders to the rot. Maybe it is the memories of something that waste away first.

I played virtually every role that is available: frightened child, angry teenager, lovesick idiot, Undesirable no.1 etc. and that was a hell of a journey.

There is no denying. My position is extremely fragile at the moment and you must forgive me that.

You may meet a lot of familiar faces in the newly refurbished hall of our hallowed Ministry.

"Look what cat dragged in from the outside! Potty, Potty why in the hell have you come back?"

Draco Malfoy, how easily people forget. How easily they can change should proper incentive present itself. If he is doing this after all these years I can be certain that much had not changed in Malfoy Manor. It is actually a pity for it presents only less challenge for man like me. No, there are no men like me.

"Lord Malfoy, how pleasant to see your face after all these long years and seeing that your contribution to conversation is still as interesting as it was back then." I give the bastard a cheeky smile. It is highly improper to show one's emotions and I can clearly see how the House of Malfoy managed to fall so low. The debt is still owed to me.

"I would spend some more time in your company, but the time is money and I leave you with my condolences to your mother- your father's death must have been a tragedy for her. I would spend more time catching up with you, but I am not that sentimental." I tap the brim of my hat with a cane and leave gaping Malfoy heir behind me. It wouldn't be Draco though, should he not fire last one on me when I am not facing him.

His hissing sounds slightly akin to: "Have a nice day beggar."

As I hinted, the man has no bottom and no manners. Those who know the higher society will tire quickly from his angry and petty outbursts. I am member of no society, for I believe there is no such thing.

Oh, I see. You are a bit interested in my current financial situation. Well, it is certainly not that bad. Otherwise, how would I afford these silk robes and dragon leather boots? It is not that good either. Why else would someone like me become a politician? You heard how this came to be? You knew that Potters were well off? I guess I cannot avoid it. You are my voters after all and I have to repay you the favour, in a way.

There is some bitterness inside of me. Revenge? No, no... I just want to serve and offer my years of experience and knowledge in magical disciplines to the government. I admit that the post brings some pleasures, but I am not a man who needs, how did she put it, blonde bimbos to be satisfied. I hold no grudges against these petty people; their only crime is, after all, being a nice herd of docile sheep, and those are everywhere. Maybe there is still a bit of anger speaking.

And here they come- old lions, witty thieves, rugged brutes and all of them are very eager to get the Shacklebolt's place. How long will it take? The man was practically a hero that got us out of slump. He rode the wave of nausea that followed the post war discoveries of pureblood atrocities. Now, he is leaving the office with nearly a hundred percent approval rates.

The Daily Prophet hails him as someone who has always listened to people. Someone, who looked out for them and made their lives easier and safer. Someone, who passed the legislature to abolish the hereditary status of the Wizengamot membership. The man, who stood firmly and helped when Harry Potter decided to run away.

My supposed retreat was, of course, something they could have expected- one does not simply win the war and then launch himself into work without taking a short break. I admit that seven years is no short time, but I did not spend them frolicking and sleeping. No, I have laid the seeds of knowledge that will be ripe one day. Maybe soon, maybe in a few years' time, but thing is that they will be; of that I am absolutely certain.

It is a gasp of surprise that greets me in the hall; few scorning remarks are sent my way. It is nothing I cannot endure. Some of them are whispering and pointing fingers, how lovely to know that some things simply do not change. I just brushed away hair on my forehead to make the old scar visible.

"My lords and ladies, I give you the Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt." There is a roar of approval and wave of polite clapping. I decided to sit next to Susan Bones. She changed a great deal since I've seen her last. She awards me with a polite smile, everything for the former hero of the Wizarding world.

The tall black man stands up and starts his carefully written speech. How can we say no to the last farewell?

"Everyone knows that I never wanted to become a politician. I have always thought myself rather man of action than the one who has to plan the action, get the seal of approval and writ of arrest. This approach, however, helped me to rebuild the British Wizarding government and our world in the eight years I spent in my position." Another round of applause- booming, rising, alive. Shacklebolt waited a moment and then cut the sound with his hand- silence fell nearly immediately.

"We have changed the way of politics: no longer it a shabby dealing full of corruption and embezzlement. We have not only set limit to the politician's powers by abolition of hereditary Wizengamot, but also made lords and ladies criminally accountable for any crime they commit. I can honestly say that we are all equal." Nice lines, deep voice to carry them across; the man had probably found himself. It is shame to let him leave. Well, certainly shame for some.

"We have built a solid economy and our coffers are overflowing with wealth. Our merchants and craftsmen are well received throughout the world. Anti-discrimination laws we have passed through this chamber changed the status of many Muggleborns who are no longer leaving because of the contempt that the pure-blooded society held for them. I want to thank you all for your help, votes and continuous support. I for one am looking forward to see our new two-party system at work." He paused a bit.

"My decision to leave is personal. I have given my best years of my life to this nation and time has come to be a bit selfish and spend some time with my family. I want to thank Arthur Weasley- my Head of Exchequer for his friendship and wonderful dealing with finances, my friend Ahvar Patil for excellent work and many friendships he acquired as our Foreign Department Head. Of course there are many others, many others to be remembered, and those who work for the Wizarding world- Aurors, Unspeakables, Floo operators, and teachers just to name few. I thank you and salute to the work you have done." The man is not smug. He is victorious. Hush! He continues!

"Talking about teachers, it is through their enthusiasm and determination that we were able to reform our greatest educational institution- the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It took all our efforts, but I can clearly say that our students have never enjoyed so much freedom and equality in an environment that is not abusive, but supports spirit and creativity. May our nation grow many great minds and discover many wonders in realm of magic. Thank you that would be all." He waved and smiled, showing his white teeth to the applauding crowd. Nearly everyone stood up to honour the leaving Minister. Time for cordiality ended. It is time for me to ready for battle.


"Order! Order!" shouts the highly vexed Chief Warlock and stomps with his gavel. " I want to remind Rgt. Hon. Lords and Ladies not to stray from the debate and debase themselves to petty squabbling that has nothing to do with debate as well as unnecessary insults. That goes especially to you lady Robbards! Order!" I must admit that I never understood Dumbledore's insistence on me having my childhood intact. These people are clearly enjoying themselves. On the other hand, it is not that hard to stand out- one simply has to behave like an adult.

"All members of the House will return to their seats or I'll call Aurors to maintain order!" Well, it seemed that Chief Warlock was really losing his temper. However, the overgrown kids had returned to their seats and there were no further disruptions.

"We shall now put our three candidates under Wizegamot's vote. Those in favour of John Dawlish?" There is silence. I must wonder how many votes would these Auror lackeys get should Amelia Bones still be amongst the living. No one is interested in that old lion. Just few sorely lone hands had gone up. This is not the right way. I can hear the Chief Warlock proclaiming that 'majority' has not been reached and we will vote for another candidate.

"Those in favour of Draco Malfoy," the sheer impossibility of this choice nearly makes me chuckle. Who would vote for the twit? Well, it turns out that according to the old pureblood rule of sticking together, there is quite a few.

"Draco Malfoy receives forty-four votes, no majority." That was quite close. Out of one hundred and one that is what I call a bit of luck. It seems that Kingsley wasn't so successful in his purges.

"All those in favour of Arthur Weasley as the future Minister for Magic." Middle ground, pureblood and recently alleviated upstart without any desire but to rule in favour of people. It makes my nose bleed. Visiting Florence has its advantages but the discovery of the Society is the most significant one of them. You didn't think I spent my years in exile moping and beating myself? Oh, you did. Well, they have no idea what they are going to deal with. Many voters of my constituency didn't believe that it was I, even when I showed them the scar.

The loss of my family´s ancient seat and the manner of my departure all those years ago left them a bit suspicious about my own mental health. I must admit that my natural charm as well as my rousing speech left them excited. The result was a premature end of political career for the young Lord Longbottom as well as quite a hefty bill for various alcoholic beverages I purchased.

I can quite imagine your surprise when I say that it was Arthur Weasley who invited me back. Well, who else can work so skillfully with state's money if not a careful thief? They certainly make the best financiers.

"Arthur Weasley receives forty-seven votes, no majority."

"Gentlemen and Ladies, as the first vote failed to produce a clear winner we shall vote again. I stress the importance of the vote. We cannot continue until the next Minister is voted in. Thank you." It seems that Chief Warlock wants to be somewhere else. Maybe at Madame Precious- the most famous brothel in Diagon Alley, says my informant. You did not think that I would come to this den of snakes without one? Oh, I know them all and as being a Potter is nowadays equal to dimwit. I will make them eat their words and deeds. All in due time, Arthur said that he had a job for me. We will see.

I suppose it comes as no big surprise that Arthur wins the next vote. My knees are trembling when I think about the long reign of terror that scamp Draco Malfoy would bring.

Yes, it is not good to underestimate any of your opponents, but just thinking about the blond ponce is giving him enough credit. It takes seventy-three long hours for Weasley to emerge the victor, for now. It is a bare majority. Parkinson was clearly paid off. I need my nap, but first I stand up to congratulate the new Interim Minister, holding my hand behind my back. How many knives are in human smile?

It is time to face the same old music. They are waiting for me in the Ministry lobby and I am not very keen to talk, but still- it is a part of my job. The sacrifices I make…

They want an interview with the old Harry Potter. Sorry to break it so late, the fellow is gone.

"Do you have anything to say, Lord Potter? Are you here to stir the pot of our stale politics? How do you feel, returning to the country that had ridiculed you and to people that robbed you? Are you angry? Vindictive? Forgiving?" I smile on my favourite blonde reporter; gosh that woman looks akin to a character from American noir stories. I smile.

"Are you hoping to get a place in the new government? Any promises from the new Minister? Do you believe you are the most qualified to get one after your abandonment of your people?" Eternally digging for the right kind of information; that is what journalists usually do. Leaving out the little fact that most of the vitriol was from her. My reply must be just as nonsensical as the times we live in.

"Come, come Rita. You may very well think that; I couldn't possibly comment."

They laugh. Good, I like merry people, they tend not to use their brains at the moment of giggling and ask fewer questions. What's next? Oh, I thought you knew.

Well, it is about the time to put a bit of a stick about.