Chapter 3: Meeting the Politicians

Harry's vision was blurred by the time they got back to the house, his pulse flattening out. The pain was coming back, and he couldn't move his left leg or arm. Dudley hammered on the door, unable to reach his keys. There was activity inside the house, and the door swung open.

"Dudley, Harry – Oh God, what happened? Come on, get inside…" Petunia practically pulled them inside, making Harry grunt in pain as she grabbed his broken arm. "Oh, I'm sorry – come on, sit down. Do you want an ambulance? The police?"

Harry grinned slightly. "I don't think the police would have any idea what to do, if I'm honest. It wasn't exactly a clean crime scene… And no, I don't need an ambulance. I've got books upstairs with the healing charms in, I can do it myself."

"Petunia, what – bloody hell!" Vernon dropped his paper to the floor, hurrying over to them. "What happened to the two of you?"

"Nothing happened to me dad, I don't think so," Dudley reassured them, and Vernon squeezed his shoulder tightly.

Harry shook his head. "You were stunned, but other than that nothing happened to you. It was me they wanted. A witch and two wizards; other than that, I've no idea who they were. They cornered us in the subway, trying to get me to go with them. We ran for it, and then they attacked us on Swinburne Avenue. I knocked out the wizards, but the woman was tougher."

"How'd you get away from her then?" Dudley asked, breathlessly.

"I threw a car at her."

His family stared at him, and he shrugged. "Seriously."

"Well… Is she alright?" Vernon enquired, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, self defence, clearly, but…"

"She was well enough to apparate away, and I don't think she's going to report me, under the circumstances. She'd have to explain why I was attacking her."

"Hold on…" Petunia was looking confused by something. "You were throwing cars around in Swinburne Avenue, at six in the evening, and no-one noticed? That's impossible!"

"Whoever they were, they'd taken precautions. They'd put some kind of spell all over the street; there was no noise when I threw the car, or when they cut one in two. No alarms, no disturbance… It was like they'd stopped time or something, but I'm fairly sure that's impossible."

His aunt looked like she was going to say something about this, but instead, she jumped as someone knocked, hard, against the door. Harry drew his wand in a flash, slipping from his seat. He tried to stretch out with his magic, intending to see if he could recognise the person knocking, but his head started to spin, and he hurriedly abandoned the attempt. He had exerted himself more than he had thought, clearly. The residents of number four looked at each other nervously, and then Harry sighed, sheathing his wand.

"We're at Privet Drive, aren't we? You can't find the house if you want to cause harm to any of us, I think it's probably safe to open the door…"

He left the Dursleys in the lounge, making his way to the front door, which shook as the knock was repeated.

"Harry! Harry, are you in there? Harry!"

Harry grinned, and opened the door, to reveal Remus and Peter, who instantly whipped their wands out, aiming at Harry. He jumped back, drawing his own quickly. Remus replaced his wand, sighing loudly.

"Merlin Harry, be a little more careful; we could have been anybody!"

"I thought nobody could get here unless they meant me no harm?" Harry responded.

"That's the theory – but theoretically, you should be dead several times over by now, shouldn't you?" Peter cut in, turning to look around the neighbourhood cautiously.

"Thanks Pete. Good to see you too," Harry commented sardonically, and Peter flashed him an apologetic look.

"Sorry, but you know what I mean." The two Marauders hurried through the door, and Harry closed it after them. They had gone into the lounge, and were greeting his family swiftly, but pleasantly. Remus turned to Harry as he walked in after them.

"Harry, what the hell happened? Dumbledore's at the Ministry, trying to calm them down – they want to arrest you for breach of the Statute of Secrecy!"

"What? I was defending myself! Dudley and I were attacked by three… Well, I don't know who they were. They didn't dress like Death Eaters or Knights, and they didn't try and kill either of us. And they went out of their way to make sure they wouldn't be noticed, I can't see Death Eaters doing that, they'd revel in the chaos…" Harry trailed off as he mused on his attackers identity.

Remus and Peter looked at each other, clearly worried. The possibility of there being a third side in the war was disturbing, to say the least.

Harry had to admit, the visitor's entrance to the Ministry was wonderfully impressive. The ornate gates were carved into the shape of griffins, rearing up on their hind legs, and when someone approached them, the heads suddenly became animated, turning to look down at them. They almost felt alive, to him. After a moment, the gates swung open, admitting them to the lobby. Harry walked through, with Remus and Peter following him. The lobby was a master-class in ostentation; marble floors and walls, with an enormous fountain as the centrepiece, water shooting from the wands of the witch and wizard seemingly carved from gold. The water bounced as it hit the pool, jumping back up for a moment, before falling down to swirl around the statues. The witch and wizard were surrounded by magical creatures; a house-elf, a centaur, and a goblin – the socially acceptable face of non-human magic. It did not seem accurate to Harry, based on his limited experience. Certainly, the awed expression on the centaur's face did not fit with how Hagrid talked about them, and he would take Hagrid's word over the Ministry's in a heartbeat.

There were huge banners hanging from the ceiling, covering some office windows, which depicted Cornelius Fudge, looking as desperately serious and trustworthy as he could manage, which wasn't that much. He would have been better without his green bowler hat, which just looked ridiculous. Dumbledore was waiting by the fountain, humming patiently to himself. He smiled as the trio approached.

"Good morning Harry, and how are you this fine day? Remus, Peter, good morning to you as well, of course."

The Marauders nodded politely as Harry greeted Dumbledore. "I'm ok sir, I guess. Still a little stiff after the other night, but otherwise ok. That guy from the ministry was an idiot, but he did a good job patching me up, I'll give him that."

"Yes, I was disturbed to hear about that Harry. Are you absolutely certain that you can recall nothing that might help identify your assailants?"

Harry shook his head ruefully. "I'm sorry sir, I told Crais everything I saw. Quite what he'll do with that information, I don't know – it wasn't exactly an intensive questioning. It seemed a little suspicious to me, I have to say."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Harry, you're getting paranoid in your old age! Seeing conspiracies everywhere – Alastor would be proud!"

"Paranoia doesn't have to be inaccurate though, does it?"

"Well, no. And sadly, there is an ulterior reason behind the somewhat tame questioning. Of course, you shouldn't ignore the fact that you were being questioned by Magical Law Enforcement, as opposed to the Aurors, and that is a very different proposition Harry. Also, under-age magic is not quite as serious as possible murder. But yes, they had orders not to be too harsh on you."

"Why?" Harry asked, confused.

"Because you are the Boy-Who-Lived, and we are at war against Voldemort – most of the public, whether consciously or not, views you as his natural nemesis. For the Ministry to arrest you on such a minor charge as under-age sorcery would be political suicide at present. And I'm sure that Fudge will try and get a favour from you in return. Be on your guard."

"Oh, I will sir. Thanks for the warning," Harry responded, scowling. He didn't like the dirty side of politics at the best of times, having been the victim of it before. To be mired in the game, even unwillingly, revolted him. It did clear up the matter of his questioning though. An officer of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad had arrived to investigate, while his colleagues cleared up the debris from the battle. He had taken the information, and a copy of Harry's memory of the fight, and then shrugged the whole thing off, almost as irrelevant. It had been confusing, worrying, and annoying. Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He felt Remus' hand on his shoulder, and he turned slightly, smiling gratefully at the gesture of support.

"He'll be lucky to succeed, Albus," Peter commented, coldly. Ever since Harry had been kidnapped, Peter had been much more protective. Harry wasn't entirely sure whether he would be able to tell the difference between Peter and Mad-Eye Moody these days.

"Oh, I will do everything in my power to prevent him doing so myself, Peter, don't worry about that. But I fear we are running late, and punctuality is always important, wouldn't you say? If you would all follow me…"

Dumbledore stood up, and walked off, his rather vibrant robes sweeping behind him. Harry and his guardians followed him, lingering slightly as they took in the opulence surrounding them. The fountain didn't look any better close up, but Harry felt he could have coped if it hadn't been for the magic pouring off it. It washed over his body like the tide, filling his senses and making his skin tingle. He stumbled, but Peter's quick reflexes saved him from embarrassment, as he grabbed him by the arm.

"You alright Harry?" Peter asked him, looking down in concern. Harry flashed him a quick grin.

"Fine, just tripped over my feet. Wasn't looking where I was going…"

Peter frowned, but didn't say anything. Harry hurried onward, cursing whatever it was that was happening to him. So far, he hadn't explained Dumbledore's theory to Remus or Peter – largely because he hadn't quite accepted it himself yet, although he was working his way towards it. Certainly, he had no other explanation for what was happening. It wasn't totally normal for someone to get absorbed in the essence of the magic coming off a statue, after all.

Dumbledore had come to a halt by a lift door, and was waiting patiently. The doors pinged open as Harry caught up with him, and they trooped in. Immediately, Harry knew that the lift was powered by magic – which was obvious, in the Ministry for Magic – but he could feel the magic that powered it pressing around him, a claustrophobic sense of pressure. He clenched his fists, staring straight ahead and trying to ignore it. He did not need this, not right now. As the lift journeyed downwards, there was a brief shudder, and Harry felt his body compressing, as if he was using the portal from Diagon Alley to muggle London. He could tell that the others felt it too, and that Remus and Peter, certainly, had not been expecting it. Dumbledore, however, remained perfectly serene.

They emerged into a much less elegant part of the Ministry, yet no less impressive. Harry could, once again, feel the magic of the place invading his senses, filling his core with wonderful sensations, but more than that, he could feel the age of the place. He could feel time, swirling around them. This place was old. Older, possibly, than the Ministry itself.

"Welcome to the Department of Mysteries, all of you. We are currently deep underground, deeper even than the Gringotts vault. We have passed out of the 'extension' of Diagon Alley; we are now back in the 'real' world, deeper than the Muggles have ever explored. The Ministry was founded on top of this spot, as one of the oldest magical sights in Britain." Dumbledore led them along, talking as he moved. "It has been used for all kinds of purposes over the centuries. Currently, it is the base of the Unspeakables, who you may know Harry, research obscure branches of magic, and examine magical artefacts. And, of course, the Wizengamot meets here, as and when required."

Harry nodded grimly. He wasn't looking forward to meeting them, but it had to be done. He had heard rumours about the Unspeakables, none of them entirely pleasant. Certainly, Sirius had despised them, mainly because they had constantly been badgering him for access to his family home and vaults, to examine the artefacts contained within. They had been a constant source of difficulty and annoyance to his former godfather.

Actually, thinking about it, perhaps the Unspeakables weren't that bad after all.

After a while though, Harry tuned out Dumbledore's history lesson. He was concentrating on his surroundings – there was something very familiar about them. But he knew that he had never been here before. As they walked through the corridors, the sense of the magic of the place kept encroaching on him, flooding his body. It almost felt like the magic was searching him out. Certainly, it took a great deal more effort of willpower to push it to the back of his head.

They were approaching a vast set of doors, wood with wrought iron designs on them. They hummed with magic, and Harry felt another wave of dizziness as they opened wide.

"You need to get this sorted Harry. Hogwarts will be a nightmare if you don't, you do realise that don't you?"

"Quite well thank you Titus, yes. Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"I don't worry about anything."

"Liar."

Harry did his best to sober up as they walked through the doors. The sight that greeted him did more than he could ever have managed to instil seriousness in him though. The doors came to rest, with a thud, against stands of seats that loomed above the group, casting much of the room into shadow. Opposite the doors, raised above even the tall stands, there was a separate pillar, bathed in light from hundreds of floating lanterns, containing balls of luminescent magic. On top of the pillar were about fifty seats, occupied by wizards and witches in scarlet robes. They were sitting in silence, and they all seemed to be gazing ominously in the direction of Harry and the others.

Dumbledore halted in the middle of the cavernous room, waiting patiently for Harry and the two Marauders to gather around him. When they were all stood together, chairs materialised out of the ground, and Dumbledore sat down gracefully, gesturing for them to follow his example. Harry reclined in the chair, but nearly jumped out of it when the chairs suddenly rose up into the air. He looked down, and clung onto the arms of his chair; they appeared to be floating in the air, although he couldn't see how – even the most advanced levitation spells would result in some kind of wobble, and they were perfectly stationary. Harry wrenched his gaze away from the stomach churning drop, and focused on the people sat in front of him.

The Wizengamot. Ordinarily, Dumbledore would have been sitting with them, but as Remus had explained to him, the headmaster had stood down. He needed to be out in the field, not stuck in the Ministry – and these days, Fudge wouldn't make many decisions without checking Dumbledore's opinion on the matter, so he still held the same power, just unofficially. It worked out best for everyone involved. Harry had assumed that, since Dumbledore had been a key member of the group, they would be a fairly well-balanced organization. A quick scan revealed a familiar face though, which cast his assumptions into doubt. He leant over to whisper to Dumbledore.

"Umbridge? What's she doing here? She's not on the Wizengamot is she?"

"Fortunately not Harry, or the political situation would be very, very different," Dumbledore replied in tones that could, to a careful listener, have contained shades of contempt. "She is still Fudge's Under-Secretary, although of course, that grants her a great deal of power."

Harry sat back, disgruntled. He had almost forgotten about the existence of Delores Umbridge; it had been two years since he had last seen her, after she had 'investigated' the Chamber of Secrets. In reality, she had achieved little except arresting Hagrid, despite his obvious innocence. She had also attempted to tar Ginny as deliberately assisting the Heir of Slytherin, instead of viewing her as a victim. Her fanatical belief in the Light made her dangerous, in her own little way. He was suddenly feeling a little more apprehensive about this meeting.

His thoughts were interrupted by Fudge rising to his feet, drawing everyone's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot, Headmaster Dumbledore, Master Potter… Welcome to this meeting. We are here to review Master Potter's testimony regarding the events of the 20th June, 1994. Before we begin the questioning, we shall examine his memories of the evening."

With a flourish, Fudge cast a spell, the stream of light disappearing into the gloom high above them. Nothing happened for a moment, and then Harry felt as if he was plunging upwards, in defiance of gravity, until he came to a sharp halt. Looking around himself, he found that he was back in the graveyard. This time though, Remus, Peter and Dumbledore were standing around him, and the large crowd of the Wizengamot was also present. This was some variation on the magic of a Pensieve, he realised.

He watched in silence as his memory-self came crashing to the ground, before being thrown into a duel against the Carrows. He watched, unblinking, as Rosier appeared, holding the deformed Lord Voldemort in his arms. He watched, flinching, as Amycus Carrow slashed open his chest with a dagger. He watched, clenching his fists so tightly that he thought he would crack a bone, as Sirius Apparated in, taunting him about Neville's death. He watched, appalled, as Voldemort was reborn, and proceeded to take Harry almost to the brink of death. He watched, fascinated, as his magic clashed with Voldemort's, until something exploded from his body, dramatically altering the balance of power in the memory. He watched, grimly satisfied, as he proceeded to escape with both his life and that of Caradoc Dearborn, Voldemort's prisoner.

As the memory of Harry vanished into the Floo system, they were cast out of the memory, dropping back to the floor. They reappeared in their seats, as if they had never left. The whole process was effective, but rather disorienting. Harry was still recovering when he felt someone squeeze his shoulder tightly. He looked behind him to see Remus, distress written across his face plainly. He had heard the details, of course, but this was the first time that he had seen what had happened in the graveyard. Harry smiled ruefully at him. There wasn't much he could do or say to make it seem more pleasant than it had been.

Amongst the members of the Wizengamot, Fudge stood up, his expression serious. "Before we continue, I would like to take this opportunity to express my admiration for your skill and bravery, Mr Potter. Your efforts that night were in the finest traditions of wizardry, and you are to be commended for them." He started clapping his hands together, and the Wizengamot followed suit, the sound of their applause bouncing off the walls. Harry wriggled in his seat uncomfortably, both flattered and embarrassed by the praise. It wasn't as if he knew what had happened, really.

The applause died away as Fudge sat down, and questions started to pour forth from the mass of politicians. Harry did his best to answer them: No, he did not know if there was any reason beyond power for Voldemort to focus specifically on gaining his blood. No, he did not know how long Barty Crouch Junior had been a spy for Voldemort. No, he did not know how many members there were of the Knights of the Dark Lord. Yes, he knew that Caradoc Dearborn had long been regarded a traitor, but he felt no regret in bringing him back.

"And nor should he, sir." Dumbledore spoke up, reprimanding the last speaker softly. "Mr Dearborn has been exonerated by this very court; we know full well that he was framed by Sirius Black."

Harry felt another twinge of rage and sadness at the mention of his former godfather. He still hadn't fully reconciled his desire for revenge with his reluctance to kill again. He didn't know if he ever would. His thoughts were derailed by Umbridge climbing to her feet, a sickly smile on her face.

"Hem hem… I wonder, Professor Dumbledore, if Master Potter could perhaps explain precisely what he did to dispel the Priori Incantatem effect that we saw? It was no single spell, I know that – most curious."

Harry felt himself tense up instinctively. Based on past experience with her, he knew that Umbridge had a tendency to assume that unfamiliar magic was Dark. If she could view Ginny Weasley as a Dark witch for being possessed, Harry was sure that she would have no problem making the same claim about his unusual magic. Dumbledore turned slightly, placing his hands behind his back as he looked at Harry. If he gave any indication as to what Harry should do, it went over Harry's head. He stood up slowly, walking to the front of their stand, and placed his hands on the rail. He did his best to look honest.

"I'm afraid that I don't really understand what happened Madame Umbridge. Some form of accidental magic, maybe? A wizard's magic does act in self-defence sometimes, after all. Of course, the Headmaster may have some more theories, I don't know." As Harry sat down, Dumbledore winked at him, approvingly.

"I am sorry to say that I am also rather regrettably ignorant about the affair Madame Umbridge – although rest assured, I have been, and will continue, to investigate it thoroughly."

Umbridge sat down, but she did not look happy. The inquisition carried on briefly, but all the major questions seemed to have been asked and answered, and it gradually tapered off. Twenty minutes later, and Harry was making his way out of the chamber, guided by the Minister himself.

"Terribly sorry to inconvenience you like that young Harry, but it had to be done, protocol you know…"

Harry was delighted to note that Remus was unable to stop himself rolling his eyes at this point. Fudge was well known for a lax approach to protocol, when it suited him. Fudge didn't notice this though, and carried on talking, going so far as to place a companionable hand on Harry's back. Harry scowled, but said nothing. He followed Fudge into the lift, Remus, Peter and Dumbledore following them, and it started to rise.

"There is one further thing that I would like to discuss with you, if that's alright? It won't take long, don't worry, just step into my office for a moment."

Harry shot a quick glance around his companions, and shrugged. "If you insist Minister."

"Excellent! Ah, this is our stop…" The floor the doors had opened on was largely empty, but it was glorious. Golden light shimmered from the wall, and runes were carved into the ceiling. There was only one door, which Harry assumed led to Fudge's office. It was guarded by two men in the distinctive blue robes of Aurors, and an attractive young woman sat at a desk just off to the side. She looked up as Fudge approached.

"Minister, the Bulgarian Ministry has been trying to reach you, they want – "

"Not just now Glenda dear, I've got some business to attend to. I'll call them later."

If the bad grace with which this news was greeted was typical, Harry surmised that this was a frequent occurrence. He wondered whether Fudge knew that his secretary didn't like him, or whether he was oblivious to it. As she threw the document to the side, she noticed something, and picked up a note. Her subsequent smile was rather grim and vindictive.

"Oh yes Minister, there was one other thing – Silas Tulliver is on his way up to see you, he wants to discuss something important."

"What?" Fudge snapped irritably. "Oh, fine, but he'll have to wait until I've finished with Master Potter here."

The secretary looked up at Harry's name, and their eyes met. Harry was the first to look away, blushing intensely. Behind him, Remus and Peter sniggered. Glenda winked at him as they trooped into Fudge's office behind him. Fudge sat down, leaning back with his legs crossed, looking very pleased with himself.

"It's good to see you so well Harry, especially after the other night. Let me assure you, the Ministry is doing everything we can to apprehend your attackers."

"That's a great comfort to me Minister," Harry responded, deadpan. Fudge didn't notice.

"However, there have been questions asked about your use of magic… Why you didn't, for instance, summon assistance? You had to use magic, we accept that, but surely it would have been better to have sent a message spell to Mr Lupin, or Mr Pettigrew – even the headmaster, perhaps?"

Harry shrugged. He could see where this was going. "Well minister, as I'm sure you know, you don't always think clearly in such situations. I wasn't really thinking, just reacting. Looking back, of course I realise I could have done things differently, but at the time – well, as I said, you understand, I'm sure"

"Oh, naturally, naturally my boy!" Fudge blustered. "It was, nevertheless, an extensive breach of the Statute for Secrecy, and some people are pushing for repercussions, shall we say?"

"It wasn't a breach of the Statute, Minister. Harry's attackers went to great lengths to ensure that no Muggles would witness the attack; even Harry's cousin, Dudley, was stunned, and he has known of magic for his whole life."

Fudge glared at Dumbledore, who simply smiled serenely. "I know that, Dumbledore, we all know that. But you know what people can be like!" His tone took on a slightly wheedling tone. "They don't understand that the spirit of the law is what's important, not the letter. I've had to do a lot to smooth things over with the hardliners and – well Harry, you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours, hmm?"

Harry quirked his eyebrow, affecting an expression of surprise. "You want me to do a propaganda piece, or something?"

"That was, more or less, the idea, yes." Fudge seemed pleasantly surprised that Harry had caught on so quickly.

Harry shrugged. "The Ministry hasn't yet done anything I'd want to lend my support to, to be perfectly honest. If that changes… Well, then I might reconsider. Now, I'd better get out of your way, wouldn't you say? I know you're very busy."

Fudge glowered, but did nothing to stop them leaving. As they left the office, Harry nearly bumped into an imposing figure; bulky, but he looked powerful. His face was marred by an ugly, pale scar, which ran down his cheek. He thrust his arm out, grabbing Harry's wrist.

"Do watch your step boy, you could cause an accident!" He turned slightly, bending at the waist in a mild bow. "Dumbledore, good to see you, as always."

"Tulliver," was Dumbledore's only reply. But Tulliver was scanning the other two members of the group.

"Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew – that must make you Harry Potter, hmm?"

Harry did not immediately reply. There was something about the man that made him distinctly uncomfortable. But he nodded, slowly. Tulliver smiled humourlessly, and finally let go of Harry's wrist. Something caught Harry's eye. Tulliver had a tattoo of an eye on the back of his hand.

"Nice to meet you Potter. I've been taking an interest in you for a while… Very interesting." Tulliver seemed to lose himself in thought for a moment, and then he shook his head briskly. "Can't stop around here chatting all day though. Good day to you all."

He swept into Fudge's office without waiting to be announced. Dumbledore stared after him, shaking his head. "Not a terribly pleasant person, but he does his job I suppose."

"Who is he Albus?" Remus enquired. "I didn't recognise him at all."

"Silas Tulliver – he's the head of the Department of Mysteries. But don't worry about him. You'll probably never even hear of him again, let alone see him."

A/N: see book 4, chapter 23 if the last section is confusing.