CHAPTER ONE
Harry gazed at the massive golden statue of himself that stood in the Ministry Atrium, bored witless and more than a little repulsed. The thing stood there, himself embodied in a pose of the worst sort of self-righteousness and bravado. For a moment, Harry wondered if obliviating himself and everyone who had ever caught sight of it was a feasible option, then discarded that idea as too time-consuming. With a surge of effort he sincerely hoped was not visible, he drew his attention back to the proceedings, where Minister Shacklebolt was singing the praises of the 'pillars of our society who wished to show our Saviour this humble gesture of appreciation'. Harry snorted inwardly. He wondered how many of the galleons donated to be melted and recast into the monstrosity before him had been appropriated by Ministry bureaucracy before Kingsley ever saw a glimmer of them.
A subtle poke to his foot from Lucius' walking stick pulled his mind back yet again. It appeared Kingsley was drawing to a close. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, I call upon the man of the hour himself, for I am certain he would wish to convey his appreciation and his instructions on how best we should display his likeness to you himself. Also, I can think of no person better to gift to those of you so honoured your Orders of Merlin. Without further ado, I give you our Saviour, Hadrian James Potter."
Listening to the thunderous applause, Harry was grateful for the training Lucius had given him on public poise and behaviour. He was hard-pressed to keep from vomiting at the display. He had expected something of the sort, ever since he had forced Kingsley to reschedule this blasted ceremony to 'Honour Our Glorious Heroes' after he was told a day beforehand that it was to be on a night of the full moon. If the man who had treated him as his own son was to be passed over, Harry would not acknowledge such cretins. Attempting a gracious indifference, with a smile to Draco to ensure the press saw him acknowledge his lover in the eyes of the wizarding world, Harry stepped up to the podium.
Again thankful for what Lucius had taught him, Harry waited while the roar of applause had died down. After the last cheers had petered out, he began.
"Ladies and gentlemen. After the darkness of the times we lived in until so short a while ago, it honours me to be present at so momentous an occasion as this," here he paused to get the cheers out of the way. "However, it deeply saddens me that this community chose to share the honour of the freedom we earned with only those we see as being physically like ourselves. I see no centaurs or goblins or house elves, no high elves or vampires or veela, and the only werewolf present here is my guardian, Remus Lupin, whose presence was a condition to ensure my own. All of these beings participated in the war waged against Voldemort, while the majority of the human population cowered in their beds while expecting a boy not yet past his majority to save their hides." Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Kingsley, who had initially frozen in shock, attempt to silence him. Wandlessly casting a ward around the podium to deflect him and any other ministry officials who might interrupt, Harry continued.
"Now, as for this . . . statue that you have all so graciously dedicated to me. I am aware of the key role those of you who contributed to its raising played in the war." Harry watched several people preen, probably imagining that he was going to 'redeem' his earlier comments with flattery of those who were obviously his betters. "You were the ones who were not only cowering in your beds, but playing both sides against each other to make a profit. I know just the way to ensure its proper disposal." Lifting his wand, Harry was amused to see most of the audience flinch and duck for cover as he aimed it above their heads. Spelling a Containment Charm around the statue, he imbued it with heat until the grotesque caricature of himself was molten gold. With a further flick of his wand, the gold had reconstituted itself into a massive pile of the galleons that had formed it.
"This money, which I am certain you are all delighted to contribute to a worthy cause, will go towards building and funding an orphanage for those magical children on both sides of the war who are now without families, as well as for those whose families provide insufficient care for them, either in the wizarding world or the muggle. Ah, yes. If you attempt to steal what is now under the care of Gringotts bank as a trust for the Stargazer Foundation, I am afraid you will find yourself rather badly hexed, not unlike that gentleman there. Why, if it isn't Zacharias Smith, my old school chum!"
Uneasy laughter broke out, not quite breaking the tension that filled the air. What in the name of Merlin and Morgana was going on? The boy was supposed to be meekly grateful for the recognition awarded him and then fade away into obscurity, allowing those in power to take advantage of his name! He shouldn't have so adroitly taken the reins of the event and manoeuvred it far away from their original intentions! Perhaps he was simply acting as a mouthpiece for Lucius Malfoy, who was controlling the boy through his son? All the world knew the pureblood lord was a political mastermind. Yet one could never imagine Lucius Malfoy advocating the rights of house elves and half-breeds and worse! But – but that meant that the boy was doing this himself! It was outrageous! With the sheer adoration the masses held towards the Boy Who Lived, the brat could become unbelievably powerful. Not to mention the raw magical strength he possessed, rumoured to already be greater than that which Albus Dumbledore wielded at his peak. And there were other rumours, too, those that spoke of the Potter family descending not only from the Gryffindor line but also from one of the legendary Peverell brothers. To think of the way the masses would worship him, if even one of those things were true. Perhaps it would be wisest to let him have his say for now. Any reprisal against the precious Saviour at so public an event – on an international scale! – would no doubt be met with severe repercussions.
Harry could almost see the progression of thoughts in the audience. Quietly amused, he cleared his throat. "Now, having said what I felt you needed to hear, I believe I shall leave the inductions into the Order of Merlin to someone more experienced in such matters. Minister Shacklebolt, the stage is yours."
Head held high, Harry strode gracefully to where his friends and family were seated. Grinning at him, Ron thumped him on the back as he passed. "Alright, mate! That showed them!"
Draco tugged Harry onto his lap, encircling his waist possessively, before smirking at Ron. "Indeed, Weasel." He then proceeded to tighten his arms around Harry and subdue his struggles to escape to his own chair by covering Harry's mouth with his own.
Ron groaned. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Ferret, can't you wait until you get him home."
"As a matter of fact, Weasel, I cannot. Whenever he does that sort of thing, I am overcome by lust." On Harry's other side, Lucius snorted. "Yes, Draco, we've noticed."
Ignoring the laughter of the rest of their group, Hermione leaned around her boyfriend, speaking just loudly enough to be heard by them over the sound of Kingsley starting to speak again. "Harry, where did you come up with the name 'Stargazer'? I didn't get a chance to ask you at Grimmauld."
Severus cleared his throat. "I believe I can answer that, Miss Granger. Stargazer lilies were the favourite flowers of Harry's mother. Was that not your reasoning, Harry?"
"It was, Sev." Anything else he might have said was interrupted by Narcissa's quiet command to be silent as the induction ceremony was starting.
Much later, after the formalities were done with – and a large number of the guests had attempted to grovel before Harry, to 'clear his tragic misconceptions regarding their actions during the war', the Weasleys, Malfoys, Harry, Severus Snape and Remus Lupin had all adjourned to Minister Shacklebolt's office. There, Narcissa was trying to make Harry's hair behave while he, Draco, Hermione and the other Weasley children watched in morbid fascination as Ron attempted – with ever-increasing success – to single-handedly eat his way through the six-course meal laid out for them.
They all turned to the door as Kingsley entered. Closing the door behind him, he started towards the sofas where they were and suddenly stopped. Grinning, he motioned to the Orders of Merlin around all their necks. "I feel I should be bowing in front of such august company. Surely a mere Auror should be kneeling before such great personages as yourselves."
"Yes," drawled Severus, "I quite agree. However, if you continue to provide such excellent information, I suppose we can suffer your presence in small doses."
Kingsley laughed. "Honestly, the hardest part of the whole evening was appearing to be angry at Harry when I wanted to roll on the floor laughing. Merlin, their faces when you melted down that horror!"
The rest of the evening passed in high spirits, with frequent recollections of the reactions to Harry's speech, which he had prepared beforehand with the help of Kingsley and Lucius. (Severus had contented himself with smirking over their shoulders and making pointed comments to Narcissa and Remus.)
As they stepped out into the now mostly empty Atrium, however, they were accosted by an irate Pansy Parkinson, who flung a curse at Harry, shrieking.
"You should never have existed, you filthy mudblood. If you had never been born, our Lord would be ruling the world by now."
Quickly subduing the deranged witch, the attention of everyone in the room was drawn towards Draco's shouts. Where Harry had been standing was now a pile of expensive emerald green dress robes. Seeing that Draco was quickly becoming hysterical, Severus shot a Calming Charm at him, despite feeling faint himself. If the little bitch had killed his Harry –
Their entire group seemed to be in shock or weeping, except for Remus, who, sniffing curiously, made his way to the pile of clothing, as Aurors dragged away a Stupefied Parkinson. Putting his hands into the clothes, he drew his breath in sharply.
"What? What is it?" Mrs. Weasley cried out, horrific images of puddles of blood and smoking flesh filling her mind.
Wordlessly, Remus stood up with a bundle seemingly made of Harry's cloak in his arms. Turning to face them, he turned back a corner of the cloak.
Huge emerald green eyes blinked sleepily at them, before looking up at Remus. Then, with a gurgling laugh, the baby in Remus' arms wriggled and freed his hand, raising it towards Remus. "Dada!"