The Prime Minister set aside a rather thick manila file. Hands raised to his temples, which he rubbed in anguish, lips pursed, eyes closed. The public wasn't ready to know about the Wizards. But he had no choice. No sooner had he reached for his two-hour old coffee, a small amount spilt on his tie when he heard a little voice chirp "Please prepare for the arrival of the Minister for Magic".
The damn portrait was talking again, for the third time this week.
He sighed and pulled a tissue from the box, dabbing at his tie, knowing his wife was not going to be pleased with yet again another coffee stain to clean.
James Davidson was rather attractive for his age, the typical tall, dark and handsome while his wife was petite, short and blonde. She was quite the scatterbrain though, but he still loved her very much.
James looked up, spying the sudden arrival of a figure in the middle of his office. It was a new Minister this time, quite short and stumpy with cheeks tinged with a shade of pink. He wore a set of robes with a high collar too close to his chubby neck, and this new Minister made the Prime Minister quite nervous. He swallowed.
"Oh dear me, I am sorry that I am the bearer of bad news". The Minister said with a sigh, as he sat himself down and shook his head, tut tutting under his breath. "Not only are the Death Eaters attacking Muggle London, but a very dangerous Death Eater has vanished from Azkaban".
"Not another one!" The Prime Minister exclaimed. "Don't you people understand security?"
"Oh yes! We do! But he was quite crafty… very crafty indeed…"
"So get on with it. I need to come up with a statement to address to the nation by tonight that is believable and will stop mass panic".
"Just tell them the truth". The Minister said with a sigh of concern. "Tell them about our two worlds. I understand your son is a Wizard…"
"Yes. He is. But Thomas…"
"Is a very gifted young boy. He has been accepted as an Auror. I hope you are proud of him".
"Very… but…"
"The public needs to know what they are up against! A bullet may be faster than a wand, but, for someone who does not own a weapon…"
"These Death Eaters have killed hundreds. They've flooded our subways. I've seen these horrid things floating around making everyone depressed. We need some sort of defence, Minister. If you do not provide it for us then our relationship will not be as rosy as it has been in the past! I've had enough of these constant Azkaban breakouts, the lies I have to tell my people… The QUEEN. She's getting suspicious, you know". He wagged a finger at the Minister who was shocked. "Asking all sorts of questions".
"Well", the Minister mumbled, swallowing, running a finger along his collar to free its grasp from his neck, "She is a squib…"
"A what?"
"Someone meant to be magical but can't be".
"I don't think our Majesty would like to hear that! She finds being called old offensive, imagine what she'd say to THAT".
"But…but… Prime Minister, you need to understand that the public must know what is attacking them. He-who-must-not-be-named will not make a public appearance… he won't negotiate… he can't be stopped…"
"Well surely, there must be someone out there who can at least try?"
"There was one". The Minister wiped at his brow with a handkerchief that he pulled from his sleeve. "But he's missing. He who must… oh… he attacked us, and the boy… we think he's dead…"
"What is his name?" The Prime Minister grumbled.
"Harry Potter".
The taller man stood upright. "You say he's dead?"
"We believe so".
"He can't be. He's been working here for the last year".
"What?"
"Annabel, bring Harry to my office, please". The Prime Minister paged. "See for yourself". He gestured to the door. It opened. In the doorway, was a very smart looking Harry Potter, still bearing that scar, the messy black hair, those glasses, and emerald green eyes.
"Oh no, bugger off…" Harry said quite suddenly and made a break for the door.
"Potter if you leave you're fired!" The Prime Minister shouted after him.
Harry froze in mid step. He turned, glaring at the Minister for Magic who was beside himself with joy. He ran to Harry and gathered him in a big bear hug.
"Oh my boy, my dear boy… you have no idea how pleased I am to see you…"
"Can't say the same about you". Grumbled Harry, pushing himself free from the chubby Minister. "I'm not fighting Voldemort again. Not after what happened last time".
"We need your help, Harry. He's killing hundreds and we don't know how to stop him. Muggle weapons are defenceless. You're the one prophesised…"
"Stuff that. I didn't kill him last time, did I?"
"No. But, you will this time, I can feel it. Please, Harry. Consider it. Watch the news reports. Read the papers. Lucius Malfoy has escaped Azkaban". The Minister paused, waiting for Harry's reaction, knowing how much the boy despised the Malfoy family.
"Fine". Harry said through grit teeth, fists clenched. "But I want to lead the team. I'm not going to have it be messed up and everyone doing their own thing like last time. Half of my friends were killed because of your Aurors and their disrespect".
"Understand Harry, understand. Oh my boy. You're going to save the world. For real".
Harry hated the sound of that, but he looked at the Prime Minister, and then realised he had once again a huge load upon his shoulders.
Draco pulled on the Muggle clothing with lack of interest. The mere sight of it was enough to disgust him, and the Dark Lord had given him permission to obliterate a Muggle memory if things became too heated for him when questioning the whereabouts of his father. Such as, those who avoid the topic.
He hated those types.
Draco looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was rather pleased with how he looked. He had magically changed his hair so it wasn't long, but cut neat and short. He could always change it back. He looked behind him at the bunch of bumbling recruits, even Crabbe and Goyle had followed him like the dumber-than-sheep pair that they were.
"Crabbe, you're eighteen. Do you still require help to dress?"
"Just this tieee…" He whined.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Use a spell you dimwit".
"Oh, right".
"How you managed to pass Hogwarts I never know…" He waited until the group were ready. It took another half hour for Crabbe to figure out where to put his wand. Goyle was busy posing in the mirror. Draco shook his head, and they were soon on the move to Muggle London, hunting around apartments that the Dark Lord had suggested to look at.
"Well, this is it". Charlie said, the same car that had encountered James a month or so ago pulled up outside a block of apartments that were quite old, and a few stories high. "Not much, I know".
James eyed the housing establishment with a sneer, he wasn't the least bit impressed, and he hated thinking of sleeping on some mouldy old mattress with a scratchy old blanket and some slobbery beast licking his face of a morning.
"What'd you expect?" She mumbled. "The four seasons?"
"Considering your father is the Prime Minister…" James said under his breath.
Charlie snapped her head around to face him. "We're estranged, for your valued interest. I pay my own bills from my own wages. I have never asked a cent from him, yet he feeds my brother on a daily basis… because he's a…"
"He's a what?" James pressed.
Charlie took a breath and sighed. "I can't tell you here. You wouldn't believe me. Come on, let's get you inside… don't worry about the lifts, they're a bit rickety. Known to stop on some occasions".
"Looking forward to it". James' tone edging on sarcasm and concern, it's bad enough he was going to share a flat with this woman but to be stuck in a lift with her as well wasn't on the top of his list.
Charlie then drove the car to the back of the apartment block where their parking lot thankfully remained empty. She helped James get out of the car as he was having difficulty extracting the seat belt from its buckle, and opening the door. It was a rather amusing sight.
She led him into the lobby, throwing a wave to the guard at the door. James didn't follow too closely, he wanted to take in as much as he could.
Charlie pushed the button to the lift.
"Everything all right?" She asked him, turning her head a little.
"Swimmingly". James retorted, once again hinting with sarcasm.
The lift doors opened and a few people wandered out. Charlie and James entered the lift, Charlie pressing a button for the third floor, and it took a few moments for the doors to rattle shut.
It was an odd sensation for James, watching the different floors pass as the lift rose. Eventually it came to a halt, and Charlie led him down a grubby, carpeted hall to a door at the end. She shuffled around her purse for her keys, and pulled out one with a long piece of red wool on the end so she wouldn't lose it.
"Well, here it is". She pushed open the door.
Much to James' surprise, the apartment was quite neat. The furniture looked pleasing, a fairly comfy looking lounge in the middle of the lounge room, and another one of those boxes called a television, but it was fairly big and flat. He could see the kitchen to the right, old lino flooring that was peeling, a shiny refrigerator, sink and dishwasher. She had a stove to the left, the kitchen itself was quite small.
James wandered inside and noticed a few family photographs on the walls. He saw two doors down the back of the apartment and to the left. Then he saw a little hallway and a partially open door that looked like the bathroom.
"Like I told you, it's not much but I'm still living". Charlie smiled.
"Where is my bedroom?" James asked, and Charlie gestured with her hand to the room to the far left.
"It's that one. Some of my brother's things are in there as he stays in here sometimes, but his clothes should fit you. I don't think he'd mind. Oh, and he's coming for dinner tonight… so just pretend that you're an old friend or something". Charlie tossed her purse on the lounge and headed to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. "You want anything?"
"No". James was quite eager to meet this brother of hers. "What were you saying about your brother before we came here?"
Charlie frowned, clasping her glass a little tighter. "You better sit down".