a/n Next chapter will be up expeditiously, just fixing a couple errors in previous chapters. I switched up a little who the actual Sacred Twenty Eight are. Replacing Prewett for Potter. Prewett serves no purpose to my story so, poof...vamoose, they're gone. Some bits of prophecy are real Nostradamus prophecies, the man was interesting...
Back at Ministry, the Ministers Cabinet was having a meeting, one laced with a heavy air of uncertainty and doubts. Almost two decades after the fall of the Voldemort, everything was not as it should be. Turmoil was everywhere, war was nowhere close to being finished. However significant the night of the creation of the Department of Ungentlemanly Warfare was in the turn of the tides to the side of the Light, recent events had a ripple effect that was now coming to the forefront.
The facts were coming together now, and now that the pieces were beginning to fit. Kingsley knew that if they did not act soon, the warnings he'd been given would indeed come to pass.
"We know what must be done. The question is, can we do it?" Kingsley said grimly to the Cabinet. "As of a few months ago, the answer is would have been a chilling no. That is why I have brought us together, the DWU and it's head Harry Potter." Skimming a thick file Kingsley read, "Formally Baron Harry Potter, promoted after his defeat of Voldemort by the Queen to Earl Harry Potter of Lennox. From what I hear a Dukedom is being considered. Effectively making him the youngest mage to ever be ennobled by both wizarding and muggle world's in five centuries. An exceptional batttllemaster, rated ultra lethal. Bearing the title of Order of Merlin First class. Impromptu leader of the strike force against Voldemort and his Death Eaters at the Battle of Hogwarts, and probably the least illustrious of his many titles Commander of the DWU.
"It has been happening before our very eyes, in some ways Harry Potter is the most powerful wizard in Britain. This is my old friend, Lord Sullivan Fawley-" there was an audible gasp around the room- "Yes, as in the Fawley of the Sacred Twenty Eight known for their abilities of clairvoyance- has brought before us very dire news. Please, Sullivan, show them the orb of insight." Sullivan Fawley rose to his full height and took out a small globe filled with swirling blue haze and placed it on the center of the table. An odd device, as even though it was round, it did not move a millimeter, sitting perfectly still.
"This- boy, Harry Potter, the Man-Who Conquered, is even more than he seems. This is very complex, Kingsley," Fawley said heavily. "I -er, I don't know if I should…"
"We did not come this far for naught Sullivan, you must show them!" Shacklebolt said urgently. The cabinet stared at one another. The anxiety in the Minister's voice was disturbing. Kingsley Shacklebolt rarely was one to be anything other than calm.
"Yes, I know. I – I ... this prophecy is not something that is new to my family, we've known since the first of my name had the misfortune to run across " Sullivan said with a heavy heart. "Even through generations as my family became more recluse, every member has known of this prediction. Like Potter, my line has been burdened by a dire prophecy. Even the emergence of Voldemort would not change our mind to re-enter the wizarding world and aid. "
It has been foretold that from the isle of Europe a young lion will be born, the young lion will succeed the older. Two of the greatest twenty-eight, allies from before man knew light- and they will reunite as brothers in arms on the field of gore and sand. Secrets of shall break partnerships, the blood of the unjust shall be demanded, and the wizard sovereign will fall from his high place. The once great man shall be struck down that day by a thunderbolt. The blade wielding sandwalker and lion shall bring earthshaking fire to society as is known. Do not shy away from my words, Fawley, first of your name. Your house shall be instrumental in any attempt in preventing the Second Fall of the Régime. The Enchantress shall be the shining beacon of hope amongst in the night. Four signs shall precede the emergence of the lion. Lion shall rise to command the pride, the Sandwalker shall return to the isle, the challengers shall fall to the Sword, and finally – Secrecy shall no longer concern the mighty commanders of revolution.
"Since then it has been the creed of House Fawley that no matter how dire or how important the situation, to not engage itself in wizarding matters until the true time has come. With the Exception of my grandfather, former Minister of Magic Hector Fawley. We were warned that future generations of wizard kind would cease to exist if we fall before our time. We lived in secret until what I have told you came to bear. Knowing that by then we would have already acquired the necessary knowledge to resist them. I found it was kind of fun at first, running - I was a wild one back in my youth. But after the years passed, the loneliness crept in. I needed to be able to socialize so I resorted to instead secretly using my magic in the muggle world as I trained myself."
"No…" they whispered, not believing it. They must have misunderstood
"I'm sorry to say this," Kingsley said softly. "But, that is why we are here. We want to stop this oncoming disaster the prophecy warns us against. We have identified the lion to be none other than Harry Potter. The sandwalker is still unknown to us. Fate has drawn them towards the common goal, but what is certain to us is should this prophecy come to pass they shall, tragically, become very serious threats to our community."
"Our intelligence officers have put together a plausible timeline of events ever since Harry's eleventh birthday that confirms this theory. The Potter crest is a lion with a sword in his mouth. The family has ties to the House of Gryffindor, the only other lions. The Potter family is one of the Sacred Twenty Eight in spite of James marrying Lily. The Thunderbolt, his infamous scar. You can piece together the rest for yourself but there are way to many signs to ignore. We need to put together a plan of action to deal with the Commander should it become necessary. I realize it is a dreadful thing to even speak, but the risk is too great. WE shall stay our hand but should this 'Sandwalker' ever become evident we will have to take action."
"I have come to realize that Potter is like a brother to many of you-" Kingsley looked at most of the adults present, " a stepson to me, and a hero to all of us who were terrorized by the acts of Voldemort and dark elements that tried to rise in his wake. However, the times have changed. What we have here is a choice. The welfare of many future generations will depend on us and select individuals. I am going to lay the facts out plain and simple. These two wizards, primarily Harry Potter, will be extremely dangerous and have the potential to be the most powerful magi since Circe the Greek Sorceress, Sauruman White the Archmage and Modred the Mystic of the fourth century. Harry Potter was always destined to be powerful; his mother's experiments only raised that by several orders of magnitude.
I mean seriously, a wizard able to single handedly execute a destruction class spell at only thirty-four, to many mages that would be the crowning achievement of a lifetime. He has a hidden talent that has only been recognized by learned men. We even went so far as e examining his father's bloodline. Very powerful, we isolated probably the most dangerous magical gene there is in it- the Felix; or in other words: the 'Luck' gene. It is a mixture of extreme luck and excellent timing in dire situations, while on the other hand; it could just as easily bring terrible tragedy and death. In other words, this man is extremely hard to kill, and will win in ninety out of a ten encounters with an opponent".
"Order must be maintained. If it comes to it, I will personally stop him of them before it is too late."
Feb 7, 2015
Pansy had to admit she was feeling excited. She couldn't remember the last time she dressed up, or even felt like dressing up for anyone. But tonight was a good night to go all out. He said he would be here in a little while, and when two minutes past nine reached and he wasn't here as yet she began to worry, even though he did say he was coming for around nine. Hopefully nothing had come up at the office, this was their night. At exactly two minutes and thirty-eight seconds past nine, there was a knock on her door. Composing herself and looking in the mirror one final time, she was pleased that she had done her best and was elegantly fitting for the event. Clearing her throat quietly she made her way and opened the door. Her breath caught.
"Good night, you look exquisite." Harry said easily. "Ready?"
"Hi…thanks and yes," she said, a bit caught off guard. Harry's outfit was not the traditional wizarding dress robe, not that anyone expected him to try and fit the mold any longer, yet he looked good. Dressed in a dashing suit, Pansy knew that it was most probably handcrafted by one of the finest magi's tailors from LVMH's in France. Hanging in the crook of his arm, folded in two, was his commander cloak, looking clean and in immaculate condition. "You look ...lovely," she commented, feeling like a silly little girl, which (she mused) she had been feeling ever since she asked him to take her four days ago.
Harry smiled. She was absolutely gorgeous in a deep blue witches' dress robe. It complimented her dark hair and striking deep blue eyes, almost on the verge of black themselves. It hugged her curves and made one's mind wonder in curiosity to glimpse the fine expanse of her uncovered back. Inwardly, he sighed. He just didn't want to be the focus of attention tonight, as he hated Ministry parties. Now with Pansy as his companion, it was inevitable that he would be the center of it.
"You look, um…nice too. Come, let's get this over with," he said, and Pansy felt a bit disheartened and amused. Obviously he wasn't looking forward to this as she did, she should have known though. Harry Potter's distaste for any Ministry ball, party or ceremony was on the verge of legendary amongst the staff. She locked the door behind her, gripped his arm.
"Here we go," he said, and took her close. Next she knew they were on the top of a flight of wide steps leading to the Queen's Landing ballroom. Queen's Landing was a castle the Ministry of Magic maintained for official functions and to welcome it's foreign dignitaries. In the ballroom there were elegantly dressed wizards, mostly couples, heading up the steps, chatting and greeting other familiar faces as soft ballroom music floated throughout the room. Only a few heads turned at their abrupt appearance. Pansy appreciated how close she was with Harry until he stepped away from her and began to descend the steps. Regaining her composure she hastened up behind him, murmuring in his ear.
"How did you manage that? No one is supposed to be able to get through! Mysteries and the DMLE have been warding this place to kingdom come and back." she questioned.
"I pulled a few strings, stepped on a few necks. Being Commander comes with a lot more pull then most realize. Come on," he said carelessly, not breaking stride. Pansy frowned. Potter had been bending strict ministry rules for there convenience? What? She wasn't sure whether to be angry or pleased. She was about to retort when they reached the main hall, the doorman eyed them intently and moved to Harry whisper their names to him. His eyes flickered once between the both of them in recognition and traces of a grin broke out on his lined face. Turning to face inwards, he lifted his hand towards the live band signaling them. They dipped their melody and the assembled guests turned towards the door to see whose arrival was the cause of interruption.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, our guest of honor; Earl Harry Potter of Lennox, and his escort- the gorgeous Lady Parkinson has arrived! Please, let the festivities begin!" the doorman said energetically, making Harry's squirm slightly in discomfort. The room exploded in the flash of camera lights, and the applause and whispers of guests. The Commander half-heartedly acknowledged the grandiose introduction and hurriedly dragged Pansy away from the spotlight of the main entrance, finding it easier to disappear into the crowd.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Earl Potter. Moving on up in the world are we?" came a voice behind him. "And with Miss Parkinson to boot."
Harry stiffly took a protracted sip of his drink as he heard that long hated voice. Letting him stew a while, getting an iron grip on his emotions before he responded turning slowly. Watching Cormac McLaggen directly in the eye. "McLaggen. Pleasurable as usual to encounter you."
"Lady Pansy," Cormac smirked, prostrating slightly. "It sounds so noble doesn't it?" he said sarcastically.
"McLaggen, your charm is incomparable," she responded in a caustic tone.
"Why thank you. Potter, as you're here and the party is finally on. I'd like you to be amongst the first to know," McLaggen said smugly, pulling Ginny closer to his side. "I would like to officially introduce my new fiancé, Ginny Weasley." Ginny beamed at Harry and Pansy. Harry looked at the duo carefully, looking for a sign of a trick. When he noticed the gleaming engagement ring on her finger, he looked back up at them, genuinely stunned.
"You're serious." It wasn't a question.
"Now tell me, why would I lie about something like that?" McLaggen said, quite amused by Harry's expression. "I recently acquired a stake in the Harpies through my family and we met there, hit it off and the rest led us here."
"Well, congratulations," Harry said, automatically offering his hand. Cormac took it, and both men shook hands for the first time. There was a moment where time stood still, both men feeling each other's strength by that otherwise routine gesture of amity. A camera flashed at them, and the tension vanished, both of them abruptly letting go.
Harry cleared his throat. "Well, this was a surprise." Something about Cormac was disturbing him….
"Yes. Things are changing in this world, it's futile to fight the tide."
"Oh?" Harry probed.
"Just you wait, Potter, you will understand soon enough," he smirked and gave a playful mock salute to Harry and Pansy as he and his fiancé sauntered off. Harry frowned, what was that about? What was he going to understand?
"Hey, isn't that Sebastian and Max?" Pansy remarked, looking across the hall. The two men were in a conversation with each other, their respective wives chitchatting happily, all of them smiling with drinks in their hands. Max spotted them, and both men took their better halves to follow them across the ballroom floor. They came up to them and offered their hands, greeting Harry warmly.
"Commander, nice to see you on! Looking sharp!" Sebastian chuckled, clapping him on his shoulder. Max grinning in endorsement.
"Indeed, both of you look like you would make a good couple." Before Harry could respond, Foucan introduced him to his wife. "Sid, Harry Potter. Harry, my wife, Sidney," he said grinning. Sidney took his hand and curtsied.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, milord." Harry smiled but inwardly he was getting quite annoyed. Again that phrase! Bloody hell, it's not like they didn't know it annoyed him.
"Pleasures mine. Nice meeting you too," Harry said a bit too tensely. Max Martini was on his other side, eager to present his wife as well.
"Elena- Harry, Harry- Elena. She's Spanish," Max added needlessly. Harry shook her presented hand.
"Hola mi señor, it's an honor." She curtsied as well. Harry raised an eyebrow. "It's nice to meet royalty in these times. Max told me a lot about you," she said in an exotic accent. "And who is your beautiful wife?" She asked kindly, looking at Pansy.
"I'm not his wife," yet she thought. "But my name is Pansy," she corrected.
"Pretty name to go along with the face. It nice seeing young people here to liven things up a little," she winked at the both of them.
"Thank you, Sophia," Pansy said, trying not to laugh. Pansy nudged Harry in his side.
"Yes, thank you," Harry said, almost forgetting that she was addressing both of them. A sudden bout of restlessness took over as he observed his surroundings. The ballroom floor was congested with couples waltzing. "Lady Parkinson, may I have this dance?" he asked, bowing chivalrously as he took her hand. She stepped into the circle of his arm, putting her fingers lightly on his shoulder. Without further ado, he swept her off her feet and seamlessly entered the fray. He was laughing at her witty comments and completely enjoying the dance; the pair took full advantage of the rare moment of normalcy in their lives.