Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.
A/N: Merry Christmas!
Chapter Seven:
Remittance Refused
Jamie did his usual morning workout, though his mind and heart weren't in it. He jogged his usual five miles down the beach with his cell phone in hand, listening to the phone's music store as he jogged, wanting to use the phone for its intended primary purpose more than anything else.
He followed his run with forty-five minutes on the weights and another a half hour on the heavy bag, staring at the phone on the wall every few minutes.
Call her, you idiot! His head argued with his heart. It's too soon. She'll think I'm an over eager prat.
I think you're a prat.
Thanks
He wasted a half hour in a cold shower, trying to get his head right- no luck.
Get a grip, Potter. He chided himself as he dressed and realized that his eyes had drifted toward the cell phone lying on his dresser.
He found it ironic that when his conscious mind is in a dilemma, it unfailingly regressed to Harry Bloody Potter.
It isn't going to go anywhere. He argued with himself.
She leaving at the end of summer to return to University and you'll be going back on assignment soon.
You could take promotion, a desk job, training maybe? Yeah, sure. How long before that had you going mental? A week or a month? You're a field operative, Harry. As much as you despise it, you like it that much more- because of the action. It's the only time you feel alive.
I feel alive with, Julia.
Julia can't babysit you 24/7.
Why do I even bother?
Because you want your dream,... don't you?
He thought so; at least that's what he told himself. A family of his own was that so much to ask; A nice house with a wife and a couple of kids?
Most people took that for a given, just part of the natural order of things. To him it sounded like a lot, a whole lot.
It would give him a reason to get up in the morning and something to look forward to when coming home at night. A family would be a light at the end of the tunnel that was his life.
Not for the first time he found himself praying at St. Andrew's for guidance.
He should be bursting with happiness, brimming with self confidence in the wake of his first successful outing on a formal date. But, he was riddled with self doubt.
It wasn't his fault, not really. The Dursley's had never inspired self confidence. You tell anyone that they're essentially 'worthless' long enough, and sooner or later they'll take it to heart and believe it.
You instill the promise that the dreams of a family will come true if he sticks the course and vanquishes evil, then betray him and lock him away while you rob him and plan his death; that's bound to have a negative impact on a person's self image as well.
Years of loneliness had taken their toll. Friends became a rarity; the possibility of something more- a fantasy.
It wasn't supposed to be like this, but it was. It was his own fault, really. He knew there was no one to blame for his lot except himself.
Happiness was out there, just waiting for him to suck up the courage to call and ask for it.
He made his way to the votives, deposited an offering and lit a candle for Hermione. What he wouldn't give to have her here, telling him to not be so stupid, to grab his chance at happiness and never look back.
He'd fought his battle and paid his dues.
Light Strike paid well, very well, though he didn't need the money. The monies he'd recovered from his parent's and Sirius' estates had been substantial- very substantial, and he'd invested well and accrued interest-lots of interest. His children's- children's- children would never have to work a day in their lives, but what would be the point of that. Idleness was its own prison. A gilded cage was still a cage.
He had a nice house with a great location. He could always add on if the need should, er, should arise.
Surprisingly he didn't blush at the implication, if anything he found himself intrigued, very intrigued by the prospect.
It was time to let Harry Potter fall into the annals of history, or infamy, as the case may be. He was Jamie Harrison now. The better part of his life was as Jamie Harrison. His future was as Jamie Harrison, not Harry Potter.
He shifted his eyes toward the statue of Jesus' mom and silently thanked his own mum,… and Hermione.
"I love you, 'Mione." He whispered. "I'll always love you, but it's time to let you go, please understand?"
Harry left the chapel, his step much lighter than when he'd arrived. He'd made his decision to let go the past and look to the future.
He chose happiness.
Jamie activated his cell phone. A smile lit his face when he noted several missed calls from the Taylor residence.
He didn't bother with his voice-mail, just hit the speed dial, grinning broadly.
"Taylor residence, Julia Speaking?" a melodious voice answered. Perfect
"Hey, Julia, It's Jamie. I know it's kind of soon and at the risk of seeming too anxious could we…?"
The date he was about to request was soon forgotten.
"Jamie, thank God!" Julia cut him off before he could finish his question. "Dad's been trying to reach you all morning, didn't you check your voice-mail?"
"No, I,… I've been thinking things over. Why, what's up?"
"I'm not sure, but it sounds like Light Strike is in quite a stir. He said you should call him on a secure line, A.S.A.P., and not to come to the house until he's had a chance to talk to you. What's going on, Jamie?"
"I,.. er, I don't know. I haven't communicated with command since I started my leave. I suppose I better call him, duty and all that?"
He wanted to ask her out, not deal with some emergency in some Godforsaken part of the world. As far as he was concerned, she was his first priority right now.
"Jamie,… I had a wonderful time last night." Julia added softly before he could terminate the call.
That settled it- emergency be damned
" I did too. Can we,…could we …?"
"I'd like that"
"Soon?"
" Even better"
"Tomorrow night- 7p.m.?"
" I'll be waiting."
" Thanks, Julia" He almost sang over the line.
"My pleasure. Bye"
"Bye"
" Mom!" Julia squealed running off to find her mother to break the good news.
" What is it ,dear?" Her mother answered from the top of the stairs.
" Jamie called" Julia blurted ecstatically.
" Did he call your dad?"
" He asked me out again!" She nearly sang.
Gail smiled brightly from the top of the stairs. "Do we need to shop for a new outfit?'
"Definitely!"
Jamie dialed Light Strike's private interoffice line, identified himself and asked for Commander Taylor's office.
"Jamie?" Jeff's voice came hurriedly over the line.
"Yeah, it's me, Jeff. What's the emergency?"
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Jamie, just what the hell did you do over in jolly 'ol England?" He mimicked an English accent at that last, but his tone was anything but humorous.
"I did my damn job, what do you think I did?" Jamie shot back angrily. "I killed his 'almighty darkness' and took a few of his henchmen and dark critters out in the process for good measure."
"A few?" Jeff shot back incredulously before explaining. "Jamie, the damn Brits are in an uproar. They claim that killing Voldemort started a chain reaction that ended up killing nearly two hundred of his followers. I guess anyone he marked joined him in death. Anyway, some of them,.. hell, a lot of them are from wealthy and influential families. Damn it, Jamie,.. two of them were the British minister's own son and son in-law to boot!"
"Well excuse me if I don't cry a damn river if a bunch of terrorist zealots bought it along with their head ass-wipe. I don't suppose the British Ministry is owning up to the fact that their laws clearly state that wearing the dark-mark is considered treason and punishable by death if apprehended, nor I suppose are they admitting that there is a standing order that Ministerial officials may kill on sight ,anyone dressed in Death Eater garb. Entering into a legal contract with 'Light-Strike' to apprehend or kill leader of said subversive organization, grants 'Light Strike' representatives the same powers and privileges of said Ministerial officials, thereby empowering us with the right to kill on-sight any terrorist either dressed as or wearing the mark of one of Voldemort's Death Eaters!" Jamie lectured vehemently.
Despite the tenseness of the situation, Jeff couldn't help but chuckle on the other end of the phone..
"Whew,.. I guess you did you homework on this mission?" He exhaled appreciatively.
"Not really, it's more like I've kept up with things across the pond. I knew the day would come when I'd be pressed into service to deal with Voldedork. I also know what a bunch of jerks the British Ministry is. Let me guess, they're trying to renege on payment for services rendered, citing extenuating damages on our part?"
Jeff chuckled again. "You got that in one. Not only are they trying to refuse payment , but they've actually turned around and had the audacity to demand we make reparations to the tune of , and get this,…. eight million galleons!"
"Eight million galleons? Not a one of those arse buckets was worth a sickle. You couldn't get eight galleons for the lot of them on E-Bay." Jamie returned incredulously before asking,
"Did command tell them to stick it and pay up?"
"Not in so many words, but yeah, that's the gist of it. After a lot of posturing they relented, but get this, they're sending over an envoy to question personally one Lt. Commander Jamie Harrison, before they'll relinquish any payment for supposed services. They wish to determine if said commander, and by association and responsibility; Light Strike command, are criminally negligent in this matter?"
Jamie barked a laugh. "What a crock. I told you lot not to get mixed up with the Brits. Same old, same old. They can't fix it so they want someone else to do the dirty work, then they want to be cheap and not pay up after. No honor among thieves. They haven't changed a bit in the ten years since I left 'Dreary 'ol England'. When's this 'special envoy' arriving?"
"That's the main reason I called. They're already on their way. I wanted to give you a heads up before you walked into a nice legal ambush." Jeff returned worriedly.
"I've got a better idea. I'm more of a 'take the fight to the enemy' kind of guy." Jamie growled pointedly.
'Awe, jees, Jamie. Don't go making things worse like you did that time down in Central America. The Dominican's are still going on about those damn parrots!" Jeff groused.
Jamie snorted a laugh. "So I set a few birds free. I made up for it , didn't I?"
"If you count replacing a bunch of endangered breeding specimens with glamoured homing pigeons?"
"I thought it was inspired. Those idiot breeding specialists never even caught on till after the 'ugly ducklings' hatched. The relocated parrots have bred themselves right off the endangered species list, last I heard. But do I get thanks for my efforts on behalf of their treasured national boid, Nooo!"
"Jamie…?" Jeff began warningly before his young friend cut him off.
"You can't order me around right now, Jeff. I'm on leave pending contractual re-enlistment. Legally speaking, I'm a private citizen at the moment." Jamie reminded him.
"Damn it, Jamie. That's a dual edged sword. You're also not legally protected by 'Light Strike' for any actions you may currently take as a 'private citizen'." Jeff returned in warning.
"That suits me. Do express my regrets to the British Envoy. I'll just pop over to England and offer my condolences to the Minister regarding his loss. I should be back in a day or so. Tell command they can contact me later in the week regarding a time to renegotiate my contract or if they want to reconsider, due to the current climate, I'll understand and resign my commission."
"Come on, Jamie, don't be like that?" Jeff began to recant, but was cut off.
"I'll see you this weekend, Jeff. Bye"
"Wait, Jamie...Jamie…? Damn it all!" Jeff Taylor slammed down his phone in exasperation. Secretly, he wished he was holding all the cards like his young friend.
With an amused grin, he wondered just what kind of splash Jamie was going to make in the international pool.
Another thought occurred after he had a moment to consider his young friends intended rash actions…. Just how was Jamie going to 'POP OVER' to England? Nobody can apparate that far, not in one go. Just how the hell did he take Julia to Paris and back in the span of a few short hours? According to Julia, he transported them nearly instantaneously from California to Paris?
If the Brits thought Harry Potter was a mystery, wait till they get a load of Jamie Harrison.
Jamie glanced at his watch, it was just after one in the afternoon, it would be after nine p.m. back in England.
I guess it's a little late to catch the minister in his office?
Frowning in thought, he realized he'd have to leave about 1a.m. to catch the Minister first thing in the morning around 9am, England time.
He had a date with Julia tomorrow night, which was his first priority right now, the British Ministry was a very distant second, as far as he was concerned.
I could take a late supper, catch a few hours of sleep and then head east? He considered.
The hell with it! I'm on vacation. Why not catch a late movie and a pizza, take a nap, do the England thing and be back in time for breakfast. I can sleep as late as I want and be all refreshed for my date with Julia tomorrow night.
Now that sounds like a plan.
With that plan in mind, Jamie decided to try his hand at a little fishing and drove down to long beach for the afternoon. The sun was beginning to set before Jamie Packed up his fishing gear, giving the day's catch up for a lost cause, though he was really only making a half hearted attempt. He loved the ocean breeze off the peer, the sun, girls in bikinis…
The beach was nearly deserted by the time he left, all the shops along the peer had closed for the evening. A few couples dotted the shore line, enjoying the sunset, hell, most of them were planning to make out as soon as the sun went down.
If he played his cards right, that could be him and Julia in the weeks ahead!
The parking lot's pavement was still warm beneath his sandals as he carefully packed his rod and tackle box in the trunk of his corvette. It was a tight fit, even with his collapsible fishing rod. He headed back to the lonely peer to collect his beach chair. He could have carried it along with the rest of his gear, but he enjoyed the extra walk when it was quiet, and the sunsets were magnificent this time of year.
Jamie lounged on the peer's railing, watching the sun disappear below the horizon, the sky painted rich hues of orange and purple.
He'd just bent to fold his chair when the 'popping' sound of several apparations froze him in place.
" LT. Commander Jamie Harrison ?" A too serious voice inquired from behind.
Jamie didn't bother to reply, he let his instincts take over. He used his beach chair as a spring board to launch himself into a hand stand on the peer's railing, twisted and let himself fall feet first toward the dark waters below casting a solarus charm in the direction of parties unknown, to temporarily blind them.
Once clear of the railing, he blended into the shadows and opened a portal to the twilight realm.
A quick pivot and a moment to shield his hand over his eyes, he stepped out of twilight on the other side of the peer, emerging just as the last vestiges of his solarus charm burnt itself out. He removed his hand and watched in amusement as a half dozen howling idiots swore and stumbled about blindly.
They were wearing British Auror robes.
Apparently the British Ministry's Envoy is taking their investigation to a more personal level.
Jamie tapped his elemental abilities and hit the stunned auror's with a concentrated blast of hurricane force winds before they had a chance to recover from his star burst. Five of the aururs blew head over heels right off the peer. One brave soul managed to snag the railing and was holding on precariously by a single hand whilst his comrades hit the water below. As they were a good quarter mile out, they'd have a nice swim ahead of them as one can't apparate in water without risking a sure splinching.
Jamie summoned the last auror's wand, which almost finished the job of knocking him into the water with the rest of his comrades.
With a grunt of effort the man managed to swing his other arm up and grab the railing, trying desperately to pull himself to safety.
Through the slats of the railing, Jamie could discern captain's bars on his color and ginger hair on his head-A rather familiar shade of hair.
It couldn't be?
Jamie stepped confidently up to the railing. He was holding all the cards and he knew it. He chanced a glance over the railing…
Sure enough- Ron!
Ron Weasley was an auror captain.
No doubt the commander of this bunch of sodden idiots? He surmised, with no little amusement, considering his once friend's current predicament.
Ron was straining to try and get a toe hold on the side of the peer as his fingers slowly inched their way under the railing so that he could hope to pull his torso up onto the railing's shelf.
Should I help him? He half considered.
Nay.
Jamie kept the railing between himself and Ron so that the latter couldn't clearly see his face. He probably wouldn't recognize him with the cosmetic changes he'd made and especially after a ten plus year absence, but why take chances.
"Rough going?" He asked with a chuckle.
Ron swore vehemently below him.
Jamie waited patiently till he got his temper under control- some things never change.
Ron always did swear first and think second.
"A-Are you, H-Harrison?" He gasped out, nearly exhausted from his efforts.
"Could be." Jamie answered guardedly.
" W-We only w-wanted to ask you some q-questions."He defended.
Jamie rolled his eyes. "Sure you did? That's why you waited till I was alone and came in force with wands drawn, right?"
"W-We were only being c-cautious. Y-You're superiors warned us that you c-could b-b-be difficult."Ron gasped in his team's defense.
"My superiors did not tell you where to find me, as they don't know my exact whereabouts, currently. You went to a lot of trouble to find me. Personally, I'm inclined to believe that you already knew where you could find me before you consulted my superiors, which tells me you've had me under surveillance, probably for most of the day. I'm guessing things didn't go as planned with Command, so you took it upon yourselves to make a personal visit. "
" L-Look m-mate…" Ron tried to deflect, but Jamie cut him off.
"No you look, pal. Since you were so kind as to pay me a visit, I think it only fitting that I return the favor. I'll be at your damn Ministry at 0900 their time, tomorrow morning. What idiot runs your ministry these days?"
"W-Weasley…."
Ron gasped out.
"What, Percival Weasley? You've got to be kidding me? No wonder you idiots couldn't handle Voldemort and his goon squad."
" M-My b-brother's dead, you arse. My d-dad, A-Arthur Weasley is m-minister." Ron spat back.
" Sorry about your brother." Jamie returned halfheartedly.
" L-Look, can you give me a hand up so we can talk d-decently?" Ron pleaded.
Jamie smirked and leaned over the railing, deciding to drop all pretenses.
Ron 's eyes immediately shot to his exposed face, but recognition did not light his face at seeing his once friend.
"H-Harrison?" he asked.
"Yes and no." Jamie returned cryptically, earning a puzzled look from below.
"Whadaya m-mean yes and n-no?" He choked out angrily.
"Just what I said."
He thought about spilling the beans. Despite the risk, he was dying to see the look on Ron's face once he knew that Jamie Harrison and Harry Potter were one and the same.
He decided discretion being the better part of valor- who said that anyway?
"Remember to tell your daddy, 0900 England time- your Minister's office. I suggest he meet me alone, but given tonight's treachery, I'm guessing he won't have the balls. You can also warn him that he could fill the place with aurors and it won't make a smidge of difference. We'll still have our chat, either amicably or after a bunch of aurors get some serious oww-wies." He drawled with a smirk.
"You're m-mental, you are. You can't…?"
"You're wet." Jamie returned and kicked Ron off the peer.
"Yuoooo Bastardddddd!" His voice echoed down to a splash, followed by sputtering and more cursing.
Hmm, forms a little shaky and a bit too much splash, not to mention the poor sportsmanship, I'd have to give him about a six on that dive. With that last score, Weasley's out of the medal round.
London, England 0900 hours
Penelope Clearwater had just finished implementing a barrage of orders from her father in-law, and employer, Arthur Weasley- British Minister of Magic. She'd arrived at the office an hour early , after the Minister had floo called her at home and pointedly gave her a list of duties he required implemented without delay.
A detachment of aurors posted in and around his office? Why would he need those with Voldemort dead? He was dead, there was no doubt about that, after all, she'd been the unlucky one to find his head waiting on the Minister's office that morning.
From what she understood, Voldemort's Death Eaters had joined him in death. So why the auror guard?
The answer walked into her office with an American accent and a smile on his face, dressed in the unmistakable uniform of a 'Light Strike' officer. That uniform was well known, and feared, amongst the magical community. Seeing one up close was as rare as Haley's comet.
"Good morning, Miss Clearwater, I believe it is? My name is Lt. Commander Jamie Harrison. I believe your Minister is expecting me?" The man inquired with a rather cheeky grin that was a bit disconcerting.
"It's Mrs. Weasley, now." Penelope corrected pointedly. She scanned her appointment book.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't believe you're expected?"
"Really? The man returned churlishly. "Then why all the aurors scattered about the hallway outside and the pair waiting with wands drawn in his office, this very minute? It seems to me that I was expected." The man smiled innocently, but his eyes were twinkling madly in amusement.
'Er….?" Penelope struggled to reply.
"I'll just see myself in then, shall I?"
Before she had a chance to protest, the commander stepped around her desk and entered the Minister's office with a cheery hello.
"Good morning, gentlemen."
Arthur Weasley startled up from the papers he'd been reading, whilst both aurors leveled their wands at his heart.
"Well, it's not the offer of a cup of coffee that I was hoping for, but, it's a start." Jamie returned churlishly, rubbing his hands together bracingly.
"I suppose that you would be Jamie Harrison?" Arthur Weasley asked drolly, peering over the top of his glasses.
The man had aged in his role as minister, be it a term of several years or several months. His thinning red/grey hair was now mostly grey and mostly gone. His face was gaunt and drawn.
"Lt. Commander Jamie Harrison." He corrected the minister, "But let us dispense with titles. You may call me Jamie, and I'll call you, Mr. Weasley, or sir- okay?"
A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Arthur Weasley's mouth. Despite his trepidation and his youngest son's alarmed warning, over the floo early this morning, he couldn't help but like the way the man carried himself, there was something familiar about the man that Arthur just couldn't quite place.
"My apologies, commander. Please, call me Arthur. Excuse my manners, but,… have we met somewhere before? You seem rather familiar to me." The minister wondered.
"Not in any official capacity that I recall." Jamie answered. "But please, just Jamie, but I feel I must address you as sir, or Mr. Weasley, it's only proper. "
Arthur nodded with an appreciative smile. Despite Ron's opinion on the matter, the man was refreshingly well mannered.
Jamie turned his gaze on the ominously threatening auror presence in the room. "Is this really necessary, sir?" he asked wearily.
Arthur smiled disarmingly. "I'm afraid your reputation preceded you. I believe you met my youngest son, Ronald, yesterday?"
Jamie smirked. "I take it he was able to swim safely to shore, then?"
"Quite." Mr. Weasley verified un-amusedly.
Jamie raised his eyebrows at the tone. "If your son feels he was mistreated, he may of course file a grievance with 'Light Strike' command, or seek me out in person. For my part, I believe I was rather gentle, considering the man and his cohorts never identified themselves and came at me from behind with wands drawn, like now," he pointed out and continued: "without warrant, on American soil where he has no jurisdiction, they proceeded to actually fire upon my person and to top it off, he obviously had the unmitigated gall to whine to daddy after."
Mr. Weasley's expression turned grave. "I see. I assure you that I'll be discussing the matter with Capt. Weasley upon his return to England. I apologize for the overzealous actions of both my aurors and family in this matter. You may, of course, file a grievance with this office. I give you my personal guarantee that the matter will be handled appropriately and expediently. I will not tolerate members of this administration operating outside of established guideline parameters."
Jamie waved him off. "I appreciate the offer, but that won't be necessary. To show that there are no hard feelings, I'll, of course, reimburse the auror team that tried to apprehend me for their inconvenience, new uniforms, time lost ect…"
"That's very gracious, but also, not necessary. I thank you though, for the offer."
Jamie nodded amicably.
Arthur turned his attention to the aurors present. "Snell, Everix, you are dismissed. Please tell the aurors outside to resume their previous duties."
" But sir, the captain's orders…?" Snell tried to argue, still holding his wand on Jamie.
"The captain's orders are superseded by my own." Arthur overruled the man. "Besides, I am in no danger from the good commander am I?' Arthur nodded toward Jamie, pointedly.
"Quite the contrary, sir." Jamie reassured the minister that his intentions were benign.
Mr. Weasley nodded. "Dismissed gentlemen."
Once the aurors had vacated the office, Mr. Weasley asked. "Now then, what can I do for you?"
"Actually, sir, I believe that's a two way question, it's what I can do for you, and you in turn for me? If we can come to an agreement, then I should be on my way within the hour, if not…?" Jamie left off with a dark look that needed no further explanation.
Arthur's smile faltered slightly at that, but he remained positive. "What do you propose?"
"Firstly, I think we can agree that Voldemort is indeed, deceased."
Arthur nodded his agreement.
"His capture or elimination was sanctioned by this Ministry,I have in my possession the order stating such and its contractual agreement with 'Light Strike' to proceed immediately with that directive. The agreed upon sum for satisfactory completion of said contract is one million galleons."
Mr. Weasley made to interject, but Jamie cut him off.
"Rebuttal is not necessary , as I said "satisfactory completion" of said contract. Obviously, your ministry is not satisfied, agreed?"
"Do not misunderstand me, er, Jamie.? We are quite relieved that Voldemort's reign of terror has ended by the destruction of the man himself. It's the collateral damage that resulted which has jeopardized this administration. Firstly, we wish to ascertain for a certainty that 'Light Strike', namely your team is responsible for Voldemort's termination. That being the case, what, if any reparations 'Light Strike ' would be willing to concede?"
"In other words, did I kill him- as we both know I implied in my letter, but if you feel it warranted, I can give you complete details on his termination? Secondly, you'd like us to accept a pat on the back for a job well done, in lieu of payment, whilst your ministry puts it's hand in our pocket looking for loose change to offset the unexpected costs of lawsuits brought by Death Eater families who feel themselves unduly faced with hardship not based upon their family's poor choices, but their own short sightedness in preparing for the eventuality that Voldemort might actually lose in his bid at self appointed dictator. Now before you deny any and all of the above, let me fist ally your fears…. I killed Voldemort, me, myself. My team was not involved in the incident."
Jamie proceeded to divulge the entire event of Voldemort's demise, finishing with…
"If you're interested, his last words were "Oh, Shit!" He quoted.
Mr. Weasley at first looked stunned, but his initial response turned to one of amusement as a grin appeared and he asked… "No dialog about his invincibility? No false offers of power and wealth?"
Jamie rolled his eyes. "I'm sure he might have, had he the time before my blade took his head. It was quick and painless, probably far better than he deserved." Jamie conjectured.
"Quite." Arthur Weasley agreed.
"Can we at least agree at this point that I, in fact, killed Voldemort, that he is dead and his Death Eater collaterally along with him? Let me also point out that by Ministry edict; Anyone bearing the Dark Mark shall be considered a member of a terrorist organization and subsequently, guilty of treason, thereby punishable by apprehension by any and all means including lawful death."
"You've studied our laws." Arthur Weasley surmised with business like regard.
"I've kept abreast of them, yes, and as such, I know for a fact that I have not broken any law within your country."
"I'm inclined to agree, however, our wizengamot, may not see it that way?
Jamie nodded and proceeds with a dangerous undertone in his voice. "No, they probably won't as most of them are probably sympathizers to Voldemort's notion of 'blood superiority'. You've got real problems in this country with bigotry and short sightedness. I've helped eliminate only one such problem for you. An integral part of it, but now that the way is clear, the real work needs to begin and quickly. To make that happen, you wish to first appease those that continue to hold with outdated ideas of blood and class superiority. They sided with Voldemort and rather than let them reap what they have sown, you wish to throw galleons at them, which will only serve to endow and empower them to continue along- sneering at the rest of the populace."
"Some of them are deserving, if misguided individuals. Some are completely innocent and ignorant of their partners and parents past affiliations with the disposed dark lord. A great many others suffer hardships imposed on them by both sides during the war."
Jamie's reaction turned incredulous. "And you expect 'Light Strike 'to play the scapegoat? I'm of the opinion that you're much vaunted 'Unspeakable Division' had some notion that killing Voldemort would result in a domino effect with any and all who bear his mark. That idea amongst others explains why they never eliminated the swine themselves. How many amongst them were found to have bared the mark?"
"If we could have killed him, we would have. Merlin's sake, we could never even ferret out the fiend's location, let alone kill him. The relative ease with which you dispatched him hardly lends you any credit? This entire administration, including the wizengamot has valid concerns regarding this incident. They are suspicious of the fact that you dispatched Voldemort so readily when our own people failed to have done so for want of ten years of trying and failing. They're furthermore speculative regarding the incident as a prophesy was made many years ago that concerns the Dark Lords demise, and clearly states that only one person had the power to destroy him. You, sir,... are not that man. " Arthur defended his Ministry's stance.
Jamie sat back in his chair and contemplated the man coolly for several moments, deciding whether or not to throw caution to the wind. He decided not.
"I came here today to offer you five million galleons. The funds will be placed in an international banking system that is not under goblin control. It shall be available to any and all parties in twenty-five thousand galleon payments, provided they can show proof of actual hardship imposed as a result of damages incurred by Death Eater activity." He stressed the word activity as it could be implied either as a result of Death Eater victimization, or the loss of said Death Eater instilling hardship on the family.
"Have your people draw up an appropriate form for my consideration. Any funds remaining in the account after a period of five years will return to me."
" Y-You're giving us your own funds?" Arthur asked astounded.
" I'm not giving you anything. I'm merely providing relief for those that have truly suffered as a result of your damned war, providing they can justify it. I won't make the funds directly available to this Ministry, or the Gringott's Goblins, as both have historically proven to be untrustworthy on the whole, especially where money and power are concerned. You may take that any way you wish, but I did not mean it as directly offensive to your person. I have found you to be an honorable person."
Arthur Weasley scrutinized the man in front of him closely, but his face gave nothing away.
"You speak as if you know me, yet you claim to have never met me?".
"Not in an official capacity." Jamie reiterated.
"In an unofficial capacity then?"
"Does one need to actually meet someone to have their measure? Your past deeds speak for themselves, sir. Accept the compliment and move on graciously." Jamie suggested in a bored tone.
"We requested the sum of eight million galleons?" He reminded Jamie.
"And would have settled for half that, had you a leg to stand on in international court. I might have actually given you the eight million had you asked nicely and not sent your son and his goon squad over to extort 'Light strike' and subsequently use my apprehension as a tool of leverage along that vein. Just so we understand one another, I still expect that your ministry will pay 'Light Strike' for services rendered.
Arthur Weasley's face soured at that last, but after a moment's consideration, he recanted.
"I agree to your terms.,, however, and please don't take offense, but can you actually afford five million galleons?
"That and many times it, yes. However, my financial concerns are my own. Do not for a moment consider that I am a well to which you can return to sate your thirst. I'll have the appropriate paperwork drawn up that will exonerate myself and 'Light Strike' from any wrongdoing and any further financial responsibility in this matter. That said, do not test me, Minister. Keep in mind the next time you send aurors after me with dubious intentions that I found your Voldemort hardly worth the effort. If it happens again, I'll consider their intentions hostile and respond accordingly to all parties involved."
His implication was quite clear; there would be bloodshed the next time, and most likely on the British side. Light Strike operatives had a reputation the world over. First and foremost, they were a rescue organization. Secondly, a anti-terrorist task force. Third and by no means last; a search and destroy operation. When a job was too tenuous and all other means met with failure, Light Strike was called in. They weren't mercenaries; a brigade of well trained mercenaries wouldn't stand a chance against a single Light Strike team. Light Strike was very selective in what type of assignments they took. They weren't assassins, but if the parties involved warranted an expedient execution, then they were as good as dead.
As well trained and respected as the Ministry's own Unspeakable Division was the world over, it paled by comparison to Light Strike. Light Strike was simply the best of the best and those in positions of command were the elite. To be so elevated to a command level position at such a young age as the man sitting across from him spoke volumes.
Jamie Harrison was undoubtedly one of the most dangerous men in not only the magical, but the entire world over.
Ron and his team had been sent over to negotiate with, not forcibly attempt to seize one of Light Strikes top operatives. As brilliant a chess master as his youngest son is, sometimes Ron had the tendency to impulsively blunder forward in the real world without giving thought to the consequences of his actions.
Sitting before his desk was one such consequence.
Instead of a priceless ally, they now had at best a lost opportunity, at worst; a potentially dangerous adversary.
At hearing his guest's impatient sigh, Arthur turned his direct attention back to his visitor.
"My apologies, Mr. Harrison, I was lost in thought over our present situation. I can't begin to apologize enough for the misunderstanding and can assure that our auror captain will be punished accordingly for his overzealous actions. This office does not condone free lancing. Ronald was not trained to behave in such a fashion, nor was he raised this way. I am most displeased and humbly request that you not judge us entirely by the actions of a few. I can only add that Ron may let his emotions get the better of him in this instance. You see, both his brother and his brother in-law were among those that perished when Voldemort fell and well,… his sisters has been quite over wrought to say the least."
Jamie noted that Mr. Weasley strategically avoided mentioning that his former son-in law must have been by necessity, a marked Death Eater, to have died along with Voldemort.
Still, kindness cost nothing.
Jamie inclined his head in acceptance. "An, er, understandable reaction, given the circumstances. Might I add unfortunate, as well. You have my condolences on your family's loss. I regret my part in this hard ship that has befallen your family. Unfortunately, no matter who wins a war and for whatever reason they fought, all sides ultimately lose. I would that we had met under different circumstances."
"As do I." Mr. Weasley added with sincere regret. "Please, contact me if there's anything this office can do to aid you in future endeavors. I'll have my secretary provide you with my private floo address as well as my private cell number before you leave."
"T-That's very gracious of you, thank you." Jamie accepted gratefully. "I would at least be glad to report back that we have made a potential future ally in this neck of the world?" he asked hopeful that something positive could be salvaged.
Mr. Weasley had always been kind to him. Whatever falling out he'd had with Ron and Ginny, as far he knew, Mr and Mrs. Weasley had not shared in their youngest children's views on Harry Potter.
"I believe you have, yes." Mr. Weasley agreed, rising to take the man's hand in parting.
