CHAPTER ONE: Dissent

Part 1

"Stay on your guard, Potter," Moody said gruffly. "You can read that later."

"I'll read it now," Harry snapped at him, tearing the envelope open.

Dear Mr. Potter,

It has come to the attention of the Ministry of Magic that you have performed a Fire Charm, followed by a Spell of Cursed Fire, close to seven p.m. this afternoon, in the presence of a muggle. Since this is your second offense, you are hereby expelled from the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Aurors will be arriving at your destination shortly to destroy your wand and detain you pending further investigation.

With respect,

Mafalda Hopkirk

"Wonderful," Harry growled.

"What does it say?"

"I've been expelled from Hogwarts. They're sending Aurors to snap my wand," Harry said. "I'd like to see them try."

"Don't worry, lad. Dumbledore will straighten this out."

"Perhaps, but how long will it take?" Harry asked, shredding the letter. "Definitely longer than it'll take the Aurors to get here. Dumbledore's not welcome in the Ministry these days, is he?"

"How would you know?"

"I have the newspaper delivered."

He'd wanted to cancel his Prophet subscription a dozen times over the past month, but they still printed something interesting on rare occasion, so he didn't. Sirius had given him some advice on reading between the lines. It appeared that the Ministry was using their jokes about him to divert attention from pressing issues that seemed to grow more numerous by day.

His thoughts were interrupted by three consecutive pops of apparition.

"Harry Potter." The Aurors spotted him immediately. "You are under arrest for violation of the Statute of Secrecy and the Decree for Reasonable Restrictions of Underage Sorcery."

Harry gave the three Aurors a spiteful look. "Sure. As soon as someone explains to me why I was attacked by dementors."

"Our orders are to snap your wand and take you in," the Auror in command argued. "Someone else will hear you out once you're in custody."

"So you don't care that there are dementors on the loose, hundreds of miles away from Azkaban?" Moody asked suspiciously.

"Sir, with all due respect-"

"How about a deal?" Harry asked suddenly.

"There will be no dealing, Potter. Now relinquish your wand!"

Harry twirled the holly wand in his fingers. It wouldn't work against Voldemort – brother wands wouldn't fight each other. Still, it had served him well so far and he certainly didn't want to see it destroyed.

"I'll give you my wand and you can take me into custody-"

"Potter, what do you think you're doing?" Moody interrupted.

"You can take me in," Harry repeated. "All I'm asking is that you refrain from destroying my wand until it's explained why dementors, who are supposedly controlled by the Ministry, were here to take my soul."

"The dementors remain firmly under ministerial control, Potter."

"Then someone in the Ministry sent two of them to silence me," Harry said. "Rather worrying, don't you think, that the government would use them to attack people."

"You claim there were dementors here," the Auror said, keeping his wand aimed at Harry, "but do you have proof?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "How about my soulless cousin?"

~~oOo~~

"He did what?" Sirius exclaimed in indignation. "What do you mean Harry let himself be taken away by the Aurors?"

"Sirius, now is not the time to panic," Dumbledore pleaded. "Keep your temper. Harry was taken into custody, but his wand is intact. I was trying to persuade the Minister to drop the charges and rescind the arrest order when young Percy Weasley came in, saying that Harry had just been escorted to a DMLE holding cell."

"But- arrested for underage magic?" Arthur Weasley asked. "The Statute allows for use of magic by minors in self-defense and if dementors-"

"That was one of the things I pointed out to Cornelius. My influence in the Ministry has been greatly lessened in recent weeks and I wasn't able to accomplish much. I was, however, allowed to talk to Harry, albeit briefly."

"What did he say?" Sirius demanded.

"The good news is that there is indisputable proof of the dementors' presence in Little Whinging, which bolsters Harry's case. Unfortunately, the proof in question is, quite literally, Harry's cousin, Dudley. He has been Kissed."

The room was cast into silence as the Order took it all in.

"How's Harry taking taking it?" Sirius asked. "I mean, he wasn't fond of his relatives, but they are still his family-"

"He expressed regret at Dudley's undeserved fate," Dumbledore said somberly.

"What should we do?" someone asked.

Dumbledore's eyes flickered with the tiniest twinkle.

"On that account, Harry requested that he be allowed to deal with the matter himself. He told me of his plans and his reasoning is sound."

"What?" Sirius shrieked. "I wrote him about how the Wizengamot works, but he's nowhere near ready-" he stopped in mid-sentence as all the eyes in the room focused on him.

"Is there something you wish to tell us, Sirius?" the Headmaster asked.

"I- well… No. Let's move on."

"From the way Potter talked to those Aurors, I'd say the lad has a good head on his shoulders," said Moody. "For a kid, that is."

"Hey, didn't they ask what you were doing there?" Tonks asked him curiously.

Moody snorted. "They did."

~~oOo~~

The Aurors quickly examined Dudley's body.

"Merlin," the leader whispered. "Blasted soul-suckers... Well, Mr. Potter, it looks like you were telling the truth. Your cousin bears all the marks of a recent Kiss victim. On that note... I'm afraid his body won't last very long. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Harry said dryly.

"We need more people on this," the commanding Auror decided. "Grayson, go back to the Ministry and get one more team here. And request an obliviation squad too - there might have been other witnesses. Sir." He turned to Moody. "May I inquire as to your presence here?"

"Potter's father fought beside me in the last war. Thought I'd drop by and share some stories."

"Really?" the Auror asked sceptically.

"Really," Moody repeated, leveling his heavy gaze at the younger man.

The Auror fidgeted under Moody's stare. "Fine," he said at last. "You may be called on as a witness in the investigation. Thank you for your cooperation, sir."

"Meaning, piss off, you old fart," Moody grumbled. "Think I'll stay here, just in case those damn wraiths come back."

The Auror blinked once, twice and shook his head in resignation. "Of course, we welcome your assistance. As for you, Mr. Potter, I have orders, and those orders say I have to snap your wand."

Harry's gaze hardened as he assumed a defensive stance.

"Then I'm afraid I'll have to resist arrest."

~~oOo~~

"Oh, I wish I could have seen that," Sirius said, grinning.

"That... doesn't quite sound like Harry," Mrs. Weasley said quietly.

"Dropped by to share stories? Seriously?" Tonks asked incredulously. "And they bought that?"

Sirius laughed. "More like they didn't have the balls not to buy it."

~~oOo~~

Not long after the steel door of his cell closed behind Dumbledore, Harry's musings were interrupted again - this time by a large, bald, dark-skinned man.

The Auror flicked his wand, conjuring a small table in the middle of the room, followed by two chairs. He gestured for Harry to sit down.

"Mr. Potter," the Auror began, "my name is Kingsley Shacklebolt. I'm an Auror in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and will be conducting your interrogation."

"I have already been questioned," Harry said. "My answers have not changed in the past thirty minutes."

"The interrogation that took place at the scene was unofficial. Yes, your answers have been included in the preliminary report which I have read prior to coming here. I'm just following procedure."

"Very well. Ask your questions, Auror."

"You are not in charge here, Mr. Potter," the man said, in a polite but firm tone.

"Of course. You are. My apologies."

If Shacklebolt noticed the sarcasm, he paid it no mind.

"Mr. Potter." He cleared his throat. "Around seven p.m. this afternoon, you cast two spells. Specifically the Fire Charm and then the Spell of Cursed Fire. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Are you aware that as a minor, you are forbidden from using magic outside Hogwarts until you come of age?"

"I am."

"Then you're aware that your actions today were in direct violation of the Decree for Reasonable Restrictions of Underage Sorcery?"

"Yes."

"And are you aware that due to the presence of a muggle, you were also acting in violation of the International Statute of Secrecy?"

Harry's lip twitched. "Yes."

"Now, can you tell me why you chose to use magic outside of school, thus breaking the law, despite knowing of the illegality of your actions?"

"I was fending off dementors."

Kingsley's face tensed. "Yes, dementors. The preliminary report mentioned that." He paused. "It also specified that the muggle witness was unfortunately Kissed. If nothing else, it confirms your story."

Harry stayed silent.

"Mr. Potter, do you know what spell is known to be most effective against dementors?"

"The Patronus Charm."

"Are you capable of casting it?"

That question was one that Harry didn't have an automatic answer to. He could, of course, say that yes, he was - he'd done it before, with spectacular results, one might say. But today was different. He suspected it might have been simply that he hadn't used the right memory and yet... he had felt nothing when he tried to summon his patronus. No surge of magic like it should have happened, even when the spell failed.

Eh, no reason to complicate things further.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you use it?"

"I did."

"The Trace didn't pick up a Patronus Charm."

"I wasn't aware the Trace was so accurate." In truth, he had no idea how the Trace worked or even what it was, exactly - but the Auror didn't know that.

"That is irrelevant. As I said, we detected no Patronus Charm cast in Little Whinging at any time today."

"I tried casting it. The spell failed. It happens sometimes."

"Why didn't you try again?"

You're going to have to do better than that.

"I was a little out of time, Auror Shacklebolt. There were two soul-sucking flying zombies practically right in front of my face."

"So you used fire."

"Obviously," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"How did you know?"

"Excuse me, but how is this relevant?" Harry growled.

"Just answer the question, Mr. Potter," the Auror insisted.

Harry stared. Shacklebolt stared back.

"My third year Defense teacher once gave a lecture about the common methods of dealing with dementors."

"Did your Fire Charm manage to repel the dementors?"

"Yes, temporarily."

"So it didn't fail?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. What was this man fishing for?

"We wouldn't be having this conversation if it had."

"Then if the Fire Charm was effective, why did you use Fiendfyre next?"

"The dementors were still coming after me. Fiendfyre is more powerful than the Fire Charm."

"It's also very difficult to control, beyond the ability of most wizards or witches. Certainly beyond the ability of a fifteen-year old."

Oh, you did not just go there.

"Is this a criminal interrogation or an assessment of my skills?" Harry asked icily. "Are you planning on recruiting me?"

"No, Mr. Potter, but-"

"Good. My aspirations run higher than a mere Auror anyway."

Shacklebolt took a deep, calming breath. "Are you aware that the Spell of Cursed Fire was classified as Dark by the Ministry?"

"I am now. Is it illegal?"

"It's Dark magic, Mr. Potter," the Auror reiterated.

"I heard you. But is it illegal?"

"All Dark magic is frowned upon and its use by a minor is extremely troubling."

"You're evading the question, Auror Shacklebolt."

"You are not here to ask questions, Mr. Potter, but to answer them."

Well... point for the Auror.

"Alright. Do you have any more questions?"

"Not at this time."

Shacklebolt stood up and so did Harry. The Auror then dispelled the conjured furniture.

"I am to inform you that in light of verifiable evidence of the dementors' presence, it is acknowledged that your actions fall under the Self Defense Clause of the Decree for Reasonable Restrictions of Underage Sorcery and as such you weren't in violation of that particular law."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"However, you still acted against the Statute of Secrecy."

"Debatable."

"You can take that up with the Wizengamot during your trial. I am also to tell you that the orders for your immediate expulsion from Hogwarts and the snapping of your wand have both been temporarily revoked and their execution or annulment will be decided in due course of your trial."

"Do I have a court date, perhaps?"

"You do. Tomorrow morning."

~~oOo~~

The Dark Lord's eyes settled heavily on the Malfoy patriarch. Voldemort scrutinised his servant, looking for signs of falseness, but there were none. Malfoy was telling him the truth.

"So... Harry Potter was apprehended by the Ministry... On what charges?"

"Underage magic, my lord," Lucius said quickly. "And I was told there was a muggle witness. Fudge is building his case upon the Statute of Secrecy-"

"But why did Potter feel he had to use magic in the first place?"

"Dementors," Lucius explained. "Apparently there is evidence to support his claim, but Fudge will try to blow over it in court. At this time he just wants to destroy Potter's credibility."

"This is a lost cause," Voldemort said. "Potter has Dumbledore on his side and while the old fool's influence has been blunted, it has not been eliminated."

"I've tried telling Fudge as much, my lord, but he won't listen. He hasn't been willing to listen to my advice as of late... He wants both Potter and Dumbledore discredited and he believes this case is his chance to accomplish that."

"Fudge is going to lose. It shall be your responsibility to mitigate any damage, Lucius."

"I understand, my lord."

"I need your puppet Minister in a strong position until we are ready to implement our own candidate. However, there is a positive side to this... for it ensures that Dumbledore will be distracted - perhaps too distracted to pay close attention to Potter himself, at least for a short time," the Voldemort mused. "And that is an opportunity I shall not let go to waste... Anything else, Lucius?"

"Fudge wants to convene the Wizengamot to try Potter."

The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed in anger.

"With the way Fudge is acting, he is going to discredit himself before anyone else," he growled. "We may need to accelerate our plans... Mulciber, what of Azkaban?"

"The have not upgraded security measures in years," the other Death Eater reported. "There is only a base garrison of twenty Aurors present at all times, mostly rookies... Common opinion in the Department is that a few months on guard duty in Azkaban helps toughen up the fresh meat. The Ministry relies on dementors to do the actual guarding. Aurors only do rounds around the lower levels. We can attack at any time."

"You have done well, Mulciber. You may leave."

The tall Death Eater bowed and left the room, leaving Lucius alone with Voldemort.

"If Potter will indeed be tried before the Wizengamot, I want you present at that trial, Lucius - and I shall expect a full report. There is little chance of Fudge winning, but if that should miraculously happen, I will need to know as soon as possible."

"Of course, my lord."

"You are dismissed."

Malfoy bowed, even lower than Mulciber, and quickly exited, leaving Voldemort to his thoughts.

Harry Potter... You have shown more competence than one could expect from a child... But we shall see how you fare when faced with a real challenge.

~~oOo~~

The Head Auror flipped through the thin file rapidly.

"You want my opinion on this, Amelia?" he asked his superior.

"Yes, Rufus."

"There's nothing in here," Scrimgeour declared, throwing the folder back on the desk. "We've already admitted that the Decree for Restrictions doesn't apply and any case build solely upon the Statute will be shoddy at best. The worst we've done to people in breach of it was giving them a fine. Bringing this before the Wizengamot will make Fudge a laughing stock. But you didn't need me to tell you that, Amelia. You knew it before I even got here."

"That's true," she said. "I was just hoping that a trained Auror could offer some unusual insight. Something I might have missed."

"We both know criminal law forwards and backwards. There is no insight to be had. The Minister is trying to build a case when there isn't one. Personally, I think this is just his paranoia acting up. And the interrogation was-"

"You don't need to tell me." Amelia sighed with frustration. "Shacklebolt was specifically requested for it. Then that cow Umbridge gave him a list of questions to ask. She wants to exaggerate the fact that Potter used Dark magic, but who doesn't know a few questionable spells? Fiendfyre is dangerous, but not restricted. And barely legal is still legal."

"Indeed. In short," Scrimgeour added, "they can't touch Potter. Truth is, Fudge would stand a better chance of getting a conviction if he agreed to have this handled by the Department, but he's dragging the boy in front of the Wizengamot - for underage magic! Anyone associated with this case is in for a smear on their record."

"Yes, thank you, Rufus," Amelia said, gritting her teeth. "That's exactly what I needed to hear."

Scrimgeour raised his eyebrows. "Are you..."

"I'm prosecuting."

"Then you have my sympathies. But look on the bright side - with the Prophet pandering to Fudge, it won't get out of the Ministry."

"Wonderful." Amelia snorted. "Makes me feel a little less miserable."

~~oOo~~

After a night spent in the cell, Harry was hardly in the mood to face a panel of judges. He'd had enough of the Prophet mocking him this summer and the trial was the perfect setting for him to strike back.

His watch indicated seven forty-five when a pair of Aurors came in and cuffed his hands behind his back before escorting him out of the cell. The large black man from the day before wasn't one of them.

He was led through a series of corridors into a tiny room - even smaller than the cell - with only one chair in it. Not an ordinary chair, however. This one was made entirely of matte black metal; heavy chains hung from its sides. He was released from the handcuffs and ordered to sit down. As soon as he did, the chains came alive, binding him tightly to the chair. He felt a nauseating sensation when the bonds snapped into place, as if his magic was being dulled out somehow.

"The magic inhibitors are working," he heard one of the Aurors mutter.

"Everything is ready. Let's go."

As soon as the door shut behind them, there was a deep rumble - and the segment of the floor upon which the chair stood started moving upwards into... a cage?

~~oOo~~

Lucius watched, his face blank, as Potter, chained down more securely than a hardened criminal, was lifted into the cage in the center of the chamber. He wanted to walk up to Fudge and shake this ridiculous paranoia out of him. Not that it was unfounded, but it interfered in the Dark Lord's plans.

Potter had been slandered regularly in the Prophet, but that made him more of a running joke than a public enemy. Fudge himself wasn't sure how to have his main propaganda tool portray the boy - as a victim of Dumbledore's manipulation or an accomplice to his schemes. Because of that uncertainty, many tended to ignore the Ministry's ramblings more and more as time went - and that was undesirable.

Fudge was continuing the trend initiated by Skeeter's articles from spring, but with that gossip hag gone - where was she anyway when actually needed? - he was doing a poor job of it. Right now he wanted everyone to see Potter as a criminal. Lucius couldn't count how many times he'd bribed Hopkirk after Draco had had an 'accident' outside the safety of Malfoy Manor. According to the law - which desperately needed updating to more modern standards - his son should have gone to Azkaban a long time ago for breaking the Statute of Secrecy repeatedly.

Caged and in chains, Potter would garner public sympathy rather than contempt. This truly was a lost cause and he would have to deal with the consequences of Fudge's stupidity, because of course that idiot would run to 'his dear friend Lucius' for advice once his popularity started to plummet over this farce.

Lucius barely kept himself from groaning in frustration. The Dark Lord wasn't going to like this.

~~oOo~~

Harry needed every ounce of his willpower to remain aware of what was happening around him. He'd become so adjusted to the flow of magic through his body in the past few years that when it was suddenly blocked, it felt exceedingly unpleasant.

"The disciplinary hearing of thirty-first July of Harry James Potter of Privet Drive Four, Little Whinging, Surrey, brought in on charges of illegal use of Dark magic and violation of the International Statute of Secrecy."

Harry recognized the voice of Cornelius Fudge and looked up to where it was coming from.

The Minister sat surrounded by warlocks of the Wizengamot, wearing a scowling grimace. Below him sat a familiar figure, focused on the Dicta-Quill dancing across the parchment.

What in hell is Percy doing here?

"...prosecutor, Madam Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones. The accused..." Here Fudge glared at Harry. "...is present. Now, let's make this quick. I have no time to waste on criminals. Mr. Potter!"

Harry blinked and reminded himself to breathe steadily. "Yes?"

"Do you deny that yesterday, at approximately seven o'clock in the afternoon, you used Fiendfyre in the presence of a muggle, thus breaking a number of laws, including international law?"

"No."

"And you performed this Dark magic knowingly and in full awareness of the illegality of your actions?"

"Yes."

Fudge looked around with a righteous expression on his face. "Witches and wizards of the Wizengamot, the case is clear. I call for a vote-"

"Not so fast," Harry interrupted.

"Excuse me, Potter?" Fudge snapped. "Did you say something?"

"Where's my legal counsel? Aren't I entitled to an attorney?"

There was a murmur of consent among the warlocks. Harry thought fast what his next words should be, before Fudge had a chance to recover.

"Well, in the absence of one, I'll be my own defender. I would like to present my own version of the events-"

"Your testimony was already taken-"

"And were the members of this court made aware of its contents?" Harry demanded loudly. Fudge was glaring daggers at him.

"I don't have all day to spend on this case, Mr. Potter!"

"Neither do I, so let's move it along, shall we?" Harry retorted. "I used Fiendfyre to drive off dementors. And before someone asks," he added, seeing a few warlocks rising from their seats, "yes, I can perform the Patronus Charm. But it doesn't always work! So I used the next best thing."

"Blatantly boasting about practicing Dark magic-"

"I think when faced with dementors, the very real possibility of having your soul sucked out takes precedence before not using powerful magic in self-defense," Harry said venomously.

"Perhaps," Fudge said, "but there is still the issue of the muggle witness, Potter!"

"The muggle witness? You mean my cousin who was Kissed, right?"

Harry could almost feel the atmosphere of hostility switch from him to Fudge.

"I wasn't informed-" Fudge sputtered.

"Oh come on!" Harry exclaimed. "You're the Minister for Magic and you weren't informed?"

"When you said it was your cousin, Mr. Potter," a new voice rose above the commotion, "did you mean that this person knew of your being a wizard prior to the... prior to yesterday?"

"It would be kind of hard to hide it, considering we lived under one roof," Harry said.

"Minister," Amelia Bones said slowly, "this is a significant piece of information. Family members knowledgeable of our world are excluded from the muggle witness status of the Statute."

"Does it matter, Amelia?" Fudge argued. "The boy still used Dark magic, we can't just let that slide-"

"Why wasn't I informed of this?" The woman's voice could cut steel. "As the prosecutor, I should have been told about all the details of this case."

"I have one more question," Harry interjected. Amelia Bones' gaze snapped to him immediately.

"More revelations, Mr. Potter?"

"That depends. Why were there two dementors in Little Whinging yesterday? Aren't they confined to Azkaban, unless ordered otherwise by the Ministry?"

"This is not about what dementors do or don't, Potter-" Fudge began, but was immediately cut off by Harry.

"I would like to know what grave offense I have committed that someone felt sending them after me was justified."

The courtroom fell into silence.

"It's an interesting question, isn't it? I mean-"

"Hem hem."

All heads turned to a plump witch with a face that could be mistaken for a toad.

"I must have misunderstood you, Mr. Potter."

"Oh? Please clarify."

"The dementors are controlled by the Ministry of Magic. Are you suggesting that someone in the Ministry dispatched two of them to apprehend you?"

"I wouldn't say they were trying to apprehend me."

"Because I think that if someone did send two dementors to Little Whinging, then there would be an appropriate notification in the relevant documents."

"There isn't one?" Harry asked mockingly. "Well, the other possibility is that dementors aren't under the Ministry's control anymore."

There were several audible gasps. "Preposterous!" someone shouted. "Azkaban is secure!"

"As much as Mr. Potter's words worry me," Amelia Bones interrupted, "the Minister is right. This isn't about dementors, but about justice for Mr. Potter."

"Well, Amelia?" Fudge glared at her. "Will there be justice?"

"Certainly. The evidence points to your guilt, young man," she said, looking straight at Harry.

What? he thought. She can't be serious!

"You used a highly dangerous spell, potentially endangering yourself and others. For that, you are penalized with a fine of five hundred galleons."

"Now, the vote-"

"No need, Minister," Amelia said coolly. "Mr. Potter's actions clearly fall under the Self Defense clause of the Decree for Reasonable Restrictions of Underage Sorcery. And since the muggle witness was a family member, there was no violation of the Statute of Secrecy."

"There might have been other witnesses."

"According to the report I received yesterday, there were none. Under the circumstances, prosecution finds Mr. Potter guilty of recklessly casting a dangerous spell for which a fine was already issued. Five hundred galleons, payable to one of the Ministry's Gringotts accounts within a week. Prosecution rescinds the other charges against Mr. Potter."

Fudge must have understood that he was beaten. He struck his desk with the gavel with considerably more force than was necessary. "Case closed. The court may disassemble. Aurors... please release Mr. Potter and escort him out."

The chair then sunk back below the court chamber and the moment it hit the floor in the tiny space below, the chains fell down, restoring the blissful feeling of magic coursing through Harry's body.

He took a deep breath. "Never again. Not this."

"Mr. Potter," one of the Auror guards began, "we will-"

"Escort me out, yes, excellent," Harry said. "I would have my wand back."

"Erm, I-"

"Now."

"I don't have it on me," the Auror said quickly. "It will be returned to you when we pass the security checkpoint."

Harry pushed past the man, shoving him aside. Looking around, he spotted what looked like a lift to his right.

"Is that the way out?" he snapped at the other Auror irritably.

"Yes. Follow me, Mr. Potter."

Within seconds, they were in the lift moving upward and within minutes, back in the lavishly decorated atrium of the Ministry of Magic. At the security checkpoint, Harry snatched his wand from the nervous clerk's hands.

"We have orders to escort you to your residence," one of the Aurors said.

"Just take me where you found me yesterday, thanks," Harry said. "You were one of those who arrested me, right?"

The young Auror nodded. "I can take it from here, sir," he told his superior. "I'll take Mr. Potter back to Little Whinging."

"Very well. Just make it quick."

Not long after, Harry was back at the deserted playground. The Auror looked uncomfortable.

"You know, if you have a question, you can just ask," Harry said. "I don't guarantee an answer though."

"Not a question... I'm just very sorry for your loss. It must be awful-"

"Loss? What loss? I won, didn't I?"

"Uh, I meant your cousin."

Harry blinked rapidly in surprise. I completely forgot. "Oh yes, my... cousin. Well, I'm sure he's… in a better place now."

Vernon and Petunia must already know. I wonder how they took it.

"Well, I'll be going, then," the Auror said with a nod at Harry.

Harry stopped him. "Wait. What's your name?"

He clearly did not expect that. "Dell Grayson, Auror-in-training."

I'll remember that, Auror-in-training Grayson. "Was just curious. Have a nice day."

"You too, Mr. Potter. And again, I'm very sorry."

Grayson's robes swirled around him and he disapparated with a crack. Harry turned on his heel as well, facing the general direction of Privet Drive.

~~oOo~~

"I will not tolerate insubordination from anyone in the Ministry, Amelia!" Fudge roared. "Especially in DMLE! We need to present a united front if we're to make it through the crisis!"

"What crisis, Minister?" Bones asked sceptically. "Do you mean your completely baseless claim that Dumbledore desires your job?"

"How dare you!" Fudge sputtered in rage, his bowler hat flying next to her head and flopping against the wall. "I have done what I must to protect this country from Dumbledore's machinations!"

"Anything you have done since taking up the office was to preserve your position, Cornelius!" Amelia said. "You disgust me."

"Is this how it's going to be?" The Minister's face reddened. "In that case, I shall expect your resignation on my desk tomorrow morning. You can clear out your office. Rufus, you will take over the Department," Fudge snapped at the man in the corner.

"And what about the Auror Office?" Scrimgeour asked. "Besides, I don't think this is a decision to be made hastily, Cor-"

"Shacklebolt," Fudge interrupted. "He's competent, isn't he? And loyal to the Ministry. He's earned this promotion, in any case."

"I shall take that as my cue to leave," Amelia said coolly. "Good day to you, Minister. Rufus." She nodded at her colleague. "Good luck with your new job."

When the door clicked shut behind her, the Minister flew into a spitting rage again.

"Who does she think she is!" he erupted. "I am the Minister for Magic, the leader of this country and she dares-"

"You might have misinterpreted her words, but it's too late now," Rufus commented. "And in all honesty, I'm inclined to agree with her on this one."

"What?"

"Listen, Cornelius!" Scrimgeour urged. "She might have gone against you, but it doesn't make her wrong! You should have given her all the details. And whose idea was it to bring Potter in for trial on charges of underage magic in front of the full Wizengamot? I know you're smarter than this!"

"Dolores suggested it."

"I should have known," Scrimgeour growled. "That woman is a menace, Cornelius, I always said that. You should be kicking her out flat on her face, not Amelia!"

"She build the case against Potter!" the Minister argued. "It was the perfect opportunity to silence him, but no, Amelia had to be righteous-"

"You had no case! It was just a random occurrence, not a golden opportunity! And now you have handed yourself to the Prophet on a silver platter."

"I'll block anything they cook up," Fudge said immediately. "The Prophet-"

"The Prophet is still part of the free media. You can only use it for your propaganda campaign for so long. Don't fool yourself - this will get out and your reputation will suffer."

"What was I supposed to do then, Rufus?" Fudge demanded.

Scrimgeour didn't immediately answer. Personally, he disagreed with Fudge on most things, but he wasn't going to antagonise the man, not now, when he had just been given the Directorship.

"I don't know, Cornelius. You are the Minister, aren't you?"

There was a characteristic 'ping' sound. The Minister turned to his desk and pressed a golden button on the tabletop.

"Yes?"

"Minister, Chief Unspeakable Croaker is here with the report you requested."

"Send him in."

The door opened, revealing a man with neatly groomed gray hair, clad in the nondescript black robes of an Unspeakable.

"Minister. Rufus," he said in greeting.

"Algernon, fancy seeing you here. You're paler than a vampire. Do you go outside at all?" Scrimgeour asked.

"I do, on holidays."

"Algernon, you don't celebrate holidays."

"And that's how often I get out," Croaker said dismissively. "The pulse was nothing unusual, Minister... well, the fact that it came from the boy may seem unusual, but-"

"What's this about?" Scrimgeour asked.

"When Potter's trial ended, there was a surge of magic," Fudge explained quickly. "It looked suspicious, so I had it looked into."

"Like I said, nothing sinister. Just the regular reaction from a person being released from the magic-inhibiting chains."

Fudge's eyes went wide like sickles. "I have been present dozens of times when prisoners were released and I have never felt something like this before!"

"Potter didn't spend much time in that chair, but more than enough for his magic to become stifled. So, when he was released from the chains, his magic was as well."

"Impossible! That would mean-"

"That this boy is a powerful one indeed. Hardly an anomaly, however. Exceptionally magically powerful people emerge from time to time. That's where wizards like Dumbledore come from," Croaker explained, completely unfazed.

"And this doesn't concern you?" Fudge asked.

"Minister, with all due respect, I work with more powerful and sinister magics daily. Will that be all? I'd prefer to get back to work, if you don't mind..."

"Yes, Algernon, thank you."

Once the door closed shut behind the Unspeakable, Fudge gave his subordinate a frightful look. "Rufus," he began, "I really don't need another Dumbledore right now."

Scrimgeour didn't have a simple answer for the man he was quite close to despising.

Perhaps you don't... but this country could use someone to give it a shake.

~~oOo~~

Harry opened the front door to find Privet Drive Four eerily silent. He walked down the hallway, looking around, until he got to the kitchen. Dumbledore was there, sitting at the table with a cup of tea.

"Good morning, Harry."

"Professor," Harry replied, stifling a yawn. He hadn't got much sleep the previous night. No matter how hard he had tried, he couldn't find it in himself to fall asleep in the uncomfortable cell in the middle of what was, as far as he was concerned, enemy territory. "How has your summer been so far?"

"Busy," Dumbledore answered. "I trust you didn't waste time yourself."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry said.

"I'm afraid both our schedules are bound to get even busier."

"So that means I'm leaving? At last."

"Harry," Dumbledore spoke softly, "I regret to inform you that your cousin's body has given out earlier today. He passed away."

He almost fired off some cutting remark, but now that he was back here, the strangeness of this was a lot harder to trivialise. Dudley was dead. As much as he despised his family,the weight of Dumbledore's words brought on a kind of solemnity.

"I understand there is no lost love between you and your family-"

"Right."

"-but I'm afraid that if you want to pay your respects, it shall have to wait until the funeral. You will be exceedingly busy for the next few days."

"Where are Vernon and Petunia anyway?"

"They are currently at a funeral home," Dumbledore explained, "arranging the burial ceremony."

They fell into a brief silence, Harry coming to terms with the reality of Dudley being dead. Fortunately, it was easy enough to do. No great loss. "If at all possible, Headmaster, I'd rather not stay here any longer than it's absolutely necessary, so if you'll excuse me, I'll go pack."

"I've taken care of it," the Headmaster, flicking his wand and Harry's trunk floated up from behind the table. "Now, we really must go. But of course I have informed your friends to give you time to mourn your cousin."

"Professor," Harry said, his expression hardened. "I'm entirely certain you know exactly what my life here was like before this summer. Dursleys are not worth talking about, so please, don't."

"Harry," the Headmaster said quietly. "For what it's worth... I'm very sorry for what you had to endure. And I'm very proud of you that you did."

"Let's just go."

"As you wish." Dumbledore finished his tea and stood up. "Read this and remember."

Harry caught the piece of parchment the Headmaster sent his way. "The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at Grimmauld Place Twelve," he recited. "Is that place really as grim as Sirius claims?"

Dumbledore's eyes glinted with understanding. "Ah, yes. Sirius mentioned you've been corresponding."

"Yes, he wrote me what was going on." 'Which you didn't want to happen' was left unsaid, but his tone spoke for itself. Dumbledore didn't comment on it.

"If you would take my arm."

"I thought we couldn't use trackable methods of transport."

Dumbledore smiled and winked. "Being me has its advantages. Take my arm, Harry."

Harry did and the world dissolved into a myriad of colors.