Chapter Ten: Taking Aim
The new year had gone by much faster than either Slytherin had anticipated. Having already learned the material did not negate the need to complete reading and essays as Harry especially had a hard time remembering what information he was supposed to know based on where the class was on the subject, as apposed to what he actually knew based on the private tutoring that everyone assumed he hadn't had access to. As a result, he had to be rather diligent in doing the assigned reading so he knew what knowledge to display and what to hide when completing the assignments and exams. Draco, however, was able to show a more extensive grasp of Magical Theory despite it not being taught at the school as had been intended.
Even so, he spent much of his time either helping his friend with the required educational subterfuge, or providing the necessary conduit between his parents, his Godfather, and his friend. It would hardly do for Harry Potter to be in direct contact with a former Death Eater or the professor who was meant to merely tolerate him. This left the blond writing and reading letters and taking meetings with their Head of House and then relaying the information to the other boy in private. They had spent much of the previous night doing that very thing after the Malfoy heir had received a much-anticipated missive from his parents at dinner.
"He said they would be completing the final steps to dispose of the last obstacle," Draco explained excitedly. Neither knew exactly what the obstacles had been but they did know that the Malfoys and Snape had been working diligently to discover and eliminate them since shortly after Harry had arrived at the Manor. They also knew that none of their other plans could proceed without these things being dealt with first, so having that long awaited goal in reach was a heady feeling. "Severus is even going to make an excuse about 'refilling potion stocks before exams' so that he can help during his free periods tomorrow morning," he had continued.
The free periods in question would be just before and during their final DADA class, so neither boy was able to fully concentrate on the year-end review that was taking place that morning. They did not even notice when Professor Quirrell suddenly stopped speaking shortly after he began the lecture. Their attention was not drawn to the front of the room until the man stumbled noticeably and had to catch himself on his desk before stuttering through a few more sentences. Though in truth, physical and verbal clumsiness was hardly out of the ordinary for the man, but his obvious distraction and the way he kept staring at Harry was enough of an oddity to put the friends on their guard.
For some reason he couldn't explain, the brunette found himself mentally reviewing every defensive and offensive spell he had learned from Snape and Lord Malfoy. The instinct proved accurate and the training more than beneficial when less than half an hour into the class period the professor inexplicably lunged at the famous student, wand out. A moment's shock froze the rest of the class in their seats even as Harry and Draco reacted instantly, the way they had been trained.
The blond roughly swept his classmates to the back of the room, desks and all, with a spell designed specifically for crowd management. Directly afterwards, he erected a shield with himself, Harry, and the apparently insane professor, on one side and the other Slytherin and Hufflepuff first-years on the other. He also activated the emergency notification charm in his watch to let Severus know that he was needed immediately, but no one else saw that.
At the same time, Harry threw up a shield of his own to deflect the curse that had been aimed directly at him. In the minutes that followed, the popular belief in the Defense professor's inability to fight off a drunken Doxie was thoroughly dispelled as the wizard tossed lethal hexes and Dark curses left, right, and center, in rapid succession. Likewise, anyone who doubted the magical power or bravery of the Boy-Who-Lived was proven completely and utterly daft. Harry Potter fought with the speed and accuracy of a near-champion dueler. The eleven-year-old shielded against one curse while gracefully dodging a second hex all while firing off spell after spell almost faster than his overwhelmed classmates could follow.
There was no discernable reaction when a slashing hex made it past the boy's shield and spun both him, and an arc of red blood, in a full circle. The young wizard just kept casting. And when another shot from the Professor sent his wand skittering across the floor he simply ducked and lunged, blocking the man's wand arm with one hand while striking out against his opponent's exposed throat with his other hand. The reaction to that was quite easily discernable as both screamed, though Quirrell did so as he turned away and tried to distance himself from his would-be victim. Harry on the other hand, continued to move forward, trying to get the wizard on the ground where his greater size and weight would be less of an advantage.
The movement however, knocked the hideous turban onto the ground and what it revealed stunned everyone. Even Draco froze as he tried to find an opening to shoot another hex at the professor without risking hitting his best friend instead. The shock only lasted a few seconds before the blond was back to aiming his wand and glancing impatiently back to see if his Godfather had arrived yet. It only took minutes for the Potions Master to come rushing down the steps that led to the DADA office and the Floo there. But in that time, the twisted visage on the back of Quirrell's head left no question as to its identity.
"Harry Potter! Did you really think you, a pitiful Half-blood child, had defeated me? I am Lord Voldemort! I will never die! Your mudblood mother is not here to save you this time, boy! This time I will kill you and all who stand with you!"
The frenetic words had screams of terror erupting from behind the shield but served only to direct the young brunette's rage as he leapt towards what was left of his parents' murder. With his wand halfway across the room, still-smoking hands served as his only weapons, one slamming into the shouting face, turning it to the side to disrupt whatever aim the hysterical thing was capable of as it turned to allow Quirrell to face their intended victim. The other had grasped the wand arm as it swung into reach, wrenching it up and away with enough adrenaline-fueled strength to break the bone cleanly in half. The dry snap was drowned out entirely by the tortured screams and the smell of burnt flesh.
Amongst the smoke that rose from the professor wherever Harry touched him, was a darker mist so black it looked solid. It writhed and screeched and flew towards the exhausted Potter heir. But before Harry could react, Draco and Severus were there, the blond shoving his best friend to the ground and covering the smaller body with his own as the Potions Master swiftly captured the mass with his wand and directed it into a charmed vial where it dissolved it into nothing. The dour man let out a mental sigh as the concentrated basilisk venom writhed and then settled within the unbreakable glass. The silence that followed was deafening, before it started to fill with the panicked cries of the still shielded students when they watched the wizard collapse to the floor next to the still prone forms of the blond and brunette.
Neville Longbottom was the first and only one to remain calm as he yelled at his friend to drop his shield. When Draco did so, wand hand shaking from adrenaline, the Hufflepuff stepped forward and checked on the heirs to the two remaining Most Ancient and Noble Houses, and their snarky Head of House. Snape waved him off irritably and regained his feet with little trouble, despite being drained from the powerful spell needed to capture the Dark Lord's wraith. Draco too, was quick to insist he was fine, though the words were somewhat difficult to make out as the blond was much more focused on assessing his best friend than himself.
"Harry, are you all right? Harry?"
The brunette let out a low groan and managed to fix a glare in the appropriate direction. "Next time, try telling me to duck instead of tackling me to the stone floor, yeah?"
Draco and Neville hurried to help when their friend started sitting up, one hand reaching back to rub his head where it had hit the floor. As soon as the appendage brushed his hair, he let out a hiss of pain. The sound prompted all three wizards to focus their attention on his red and blistered hands, though Severus did so with far less frantic speed. And far less volume. Once Harry had been pulled carefully to his feet, Neville stepped back, swept a gaze over the entire front of the classroom, and asked the question everyone was thinking.
"Was that You-Know-Who?"
"What was left of him. Does anyone see my wand?" Neville blinked in shock at the calm response, half the class gasped, and Draco smiled in relief to see that the momentous occasion hadn't damaged his friend's priorities. Snape raised a single brow and then summoned the missing wand with his own.
"Really, Mr. Potter? Driving the Dark Lord from his body twice and destroying his last remnant wasn't attention seeking enough? Now I am expected to fetch your things for you as well?" A first-year class had never been so attentive to a professor as the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs were as the Potions Master handed the wand, handle first, to Harry Potter with a slight nod of his head.
"I'm pretty sure your poison is what actually killed it, sir," the brunette responded without a trace of sarcasm.
Severus Snape let out an aggrieved sigh. "Venom, Mr. Potter, not poison. However you are partially correct. The basilisk venom did, indeed, finish destroying the bastard for you. Though I suppose you will expect us all to hail you the boy-hero for dueling a fully trained opponent more than twice your age and experience that was possessed by the shade of the most powerful Dark Lord in a century. Perhaps you will deign to allow us to forgo kissing the precious hands that finished the deed until they have been properly healed?"
No one in the room was sure whether to be more shocked by the conversation occurring in front of them, or the duel that had preceded it. They were saved from having to decide by the arrival of the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress, trailed by the one student who had thought to flee the room after Draco's shield went up.
"What is going on here?" demanded the stringent tones of Minerva McGonagall. "My word! Is that Professor Quirrell? Mr. Potter?"
"Now, now, let us all remain calm, I am sure we can-" Snape's irritated tone cut off the bearded wizard before Dumbledore could get out a full sentence.
"It is in fact Quirrell," the black eyed wizard shot a quick diagnostic spell at the body, fully aware of what it would show, "though the man is most certainly dead. It appears that he has spent all year carrying around a returned Dark Lord beneath his turban and has-"
McGonagall's sharp "what?" interrupted the Potions Master, causing him to raise a single brow at her as Draco jumped in with the particulars.
"He attacked Harry, ma'am. They dueled and Harry forced Voldemort-" Several screams had sounded at the use of the feared name, prompting the blond to raise his voice as he went on, "to leave the professor's body. Professor Snape froze the wraith and destroyed it with basilisk venom."
"What?" the witch repeated, this time in a lower, more incredulous tone, one hand on her chest.
Neville took his turn with the explanation. "It was quite a duel, Professor, but Draco moved us all out of the way and raised a full defensive shield, so no one was hurt." The tawny-headed wizard left out mention of the bumps and bruises he was sure some of his classmates had gotten when the blond had swept them across the room to safety.
The Malfoy heir, having paid close attention to the Headmaster since he had entered the room, did not miss the rage that flashed briefly behind the half-moon glasses only to immediately be covered by a slightly dimmed twinkle. When he saw the old man opening his mouth to speak, he quickly spoke up himself. "Can we finish this discussion in the infirmary, Professors? Harry's hands are quite badly burned and need to be treated."
Every eye in the room went from the hands in question to the badly charred head and arm of the body on the floor.
Dumbledore was quick to speak up before anyone else could cut him off "Yes, yes. We shall need to let Madame Pomfrey know that she'll have a patient tonight. And I am afraid, my boys, that I will have to contact the Aurors as well, to try and explain Professor's Quirrell's demise. Perhaps I can have a word with-" Harry Potter cut off the illustrious Headmaster before he could regal everyone with how he would single-handedly resolve any problems that might arise.
"They should in fact be called, but I do not think that the Ministry will have a problem with me finishing what my mother and I started ten years ago. Unless you see a problem with me destroying Voldemort, Professor?"
Draco Malfoy struggled to keep his overwhelming pride off his face as his best friend calmly stared down the Headmaster, refocused everyone's attention on the reality of Voldemort's defeat, reminded them of what Lilly Potter had done, and claimed credit for himself all at the same time. Not to mention saying it in such a way that should the Ministry dare accuse him of wrongdoing it would only make them look the villain. The smile nearly broke through as Dumbledore's all-knowing smirk and placating tone soured momentarily before the manipulative old fool tried to regain the upper hand.
"Of course not, dear boy. But things are often more complicated than-" the signature twinkle flickered when he was cut off yet again.
"I'm sure many things are complicated, but the path to the infirmary is not one of them. Or does my preventing another war not entitle me to basic medical care?"
With the trip to Poppy Pomfrey's domain unable to be put off any longer, Dumbledore and Snape accompanied the two Slytherins to the hospital wing while McGonagall magically sealed the classroom until the Aurors arrived. The remainder of the class was sent back to their common rooms, where they would, of course, spread the tale of Harry Potter's epic battle with the possessed DADA professor and the demise of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Again.
The fierce hospital matron herded the adults from the room almost as soon as they entered and Harry had never been more thankful for her inability to tolerate anyone other than a patient in her ward than he was in that moment. At least until she turned to Draco and tried to shoo him out as well. The brunette's pleas for his best friend's presence after his 'ordeal' and the blond's insistence that he was sure to suffer a panic attack if Harry left his sight finally gained them a terse order to both get into beds and stay there. They immediately complied, laying silently under her examinations.
The ward was still silent hours later, though that had more to do with the surreptitious privacy charm than anything else. "I knew I'd probably have to fight the Dark wizard who'd killed my parents and that I should get as much training as I could but I didn't think it would be before the end of bloody first year. Draco, I…"
The breath that he sucked in was long and sharp and not at all steady. The bandaged hands that covered his face were just as shaky. The blond scrambled to extract himself from the uncooperative covers of his cot and climb into Harry's. His arms were around the smaller boy before he completely finished. While it made it slightly easier logistically at times like this, Draco still hated the fact that his friend had still not reached the size of an average eleven-year-old. Severus had said that there were growth potions they could try, but they were dangerous before the Magical Core had settled so it would be another few years before that would be possible. At least the brunette's weight had slowly risen to a healthy level once he'd been able to stomach larger meals.
"I know we weren't expecting it, Harry, but it's over now. He's dead. The wizard who killed your parents, who tried to kill you, he's gone and you are the one responsible for that."
A muffled sound that Draco assumed was supposed to be a laugh made it past the hands covering the Potter heir's face. Draco shook his head, both at the strange sound and the fact that his friend was actually using the swollen and blistered hands. The pain cream and potions the school matron had used must be very effective, which was a relief as she hadn't yet been able to actually heal them.
"You are," he insisted.
Harry actually uncovered his face to respond. "Snape is the one that finished him off, not me."
"You were fantastic, Harry!" He held on tighter when the other boy shook his head. "You held your own against a fully grown, fully trained wizard who had the help of the bloody Dark Lord. At eleven! You were moving so fast even I could hardly follow everything. I certainly couldn't get more than two or three shots off. I'm not even sure the third one landed. And after you lost your wand…"
It was Draco's turn to take a shaky breath, remembering the fear that had shot through him when he'd seen the wand go flying and realized that his best friend was wandless against Voldemort. And the two dueling wizards had been between him and where it had landed, making it impossible for him to even summon it without the risk of Quirrell getting ahold of it on its way past. He'd never been so happy to see his Godfather. Draco let out another breath. If Severus had been even a few moments later, the dark thing could have gotten away and that wasn't even worth thinking about. Like he'd told Harry, it was over now.
"I thought I saw an extra couple spells coming from somewhere, but I was so focused on the Quirrell/Voldemort thing to really pay attention."
"Voldirrell?"
"Vuirrell?"
"Quirremort?" the blond shot back.
"Quirrellmort? Oh, how about Quoldemort?"
The Malfoy heir snorted in amusement. "I like that one. Maybe you should use it with the Aurors tomorrow. Though I'm not sure they'd be able to appreciate the humor. I think you had to see the face under the turban thing to understand it."
Harry groaned at the reminder of the impending visit from the Aurors and what he assumed would be an interrogation of some kind. "It's probably a good thing it happened in front of the class, they can collect memories and stuff to watch it themselves. If it had happened without any witnesses, the Ministry might actually try and say it either hadn't happened or that I did something wrong."
The aristocratic blond sneered at the reminder of the Headmaster's insinuation that Harry might be in trouble and need his help to get out of it. He wanted to say that the Ministry might not be the only one that would try and say that. Hell, the old man had already tried to insinuate it in front of the class. Apparently he thought this was his best opportunity to place Harry in his debt by getting him out of trouble. He must be awfully frustrated that he hadn't had any success with his attempts to spell or potion the famous boy into either trusting him or just doing whatever he said. No one was entirely clear on what the manipulative goat had in mind on that front.
But he didn't say any of that. There was no telling how effective the privacy charm would be at anything other than making it so Pomfrey didn't hear them. They didn't dare use the more complex anti-eavesdropping spells, no first-year would reasonably know, or need to know, those spells. And this was far from their dorm room, nestled safely within Severus' realm in the dungeons. Or even the secluded nook in the library that they routinely swept for listening spells and other magical means of surveillance. Besides, from the scowl on his friend's face he assumed that the other boy was already thinking along the same lines he was. There were other things that he could say, though.
"I've already owled my parents and told them what happened." Harry shot the blond a confused look, knowing neither of them had left the infirmary since they'd arrived, and they'd only been separated for a few minutes during the mediwitch's exam of his hands. "Severus sent a house elf with writing supplies earlier. I sent the letter with the elf. It was delivered to Severus hours ago, so I'm sure he's already sent it to the Manor for me."
The brunette nodded, neither saying that the Potions Master had probably already Floo'd the Manor himself to update the elder Malfoys. They had yet to hear where the Professor had been when the emergency alert spell had been triggered, calling him to the DADA classroom at a dead run. "What do you think they'll say?"
Draco doubted that was exactly the question he'd wanted to ask as the other boy was already fully aware of how the Lord and Lady Malfoy would take the news of the Dark Lord's demise. So he answered the question he figured Harry had wanted to ask. "They probably reacted close to how everyone in the class did, crossed with McGonagall's appalled shock. With some fury and terror knowing I was there when it happened."
He wanted to say 'we' were there, but he didn't dare imply too close a relationship between his parents and his best friend in case anyone was listening. Harry seemed to know anyway, and nodded without any trace of surprise. "How exactly did the rest of the class react? I never even looked to see after Professor Dumbledore arrived."
Yes, Draco thought, the presence of the old man who kept you from your legal guardian, dropped you into an abusive home without a single backwards glance, and then tried repeatedly to spell you into compliance, would in fact give a person something else to focus on. "I don't think they understood what was happening until you and Severus started talking afterwards. They were all horrified that our Professor attacked you of course. And scared they would get hurt, I'm sure, though when they realized the shield would protect them they were more grotesquely entertained. I think your reputation as the best dueler to ever grace a classroom in this place is forever assured. You really were bloody amazing, Harry."
The Boy-Who-Lived looked away uncomfortably at the sincere praise and gestured with a bandaged hand for the other Slytherin to go on. "Horror came back when the turban went flying though. And the burning flesh was pretty gross, I have to admit, so they were most likely a bit freaked out about that."
Both boys looked down at Harry's hands and grimaced before the blond continued again. "When it became clear what had happened with Quirrell being possessed and that wraith thing that Severus caught and basically dissolved, I don't think anyone knew what to think. Aside from Neville, anyway. He seemed to catch on rather quick and be pretty calm about it too. That little speech you gave the Headmaster, though." The grin he'd suppressed in the classroom covered Draco's entire face. "Merlin, Arthur, and Vivien, Harry, that was the best thing I'll hear in a classroom for my entire life. Maybe anywhere. Every eye in the room was on you two, and at least twice their normal size."
The brunette actually winced. That hadn't exactly been planned, it had just come out. He'd been so furious at the old man he'd had to say something. He was just glad it wasn't anything that would have given away the things they'd all been trying so hard to hide. As it was, Draco seemed to think what he'd said would be to their benefit, at least if his devious smirk was anything to go by. He took the time to think it over himself. Perhaps it would work for them after all.
Depending on how well the other students heard and understood what had been said and how accurately it was spread through the gossip mill, he, Severus, and even Draco, could be hailed as heroes. It could help to clear up the stigma Snape had from having taken the Dark Mark. Draco's protecting everyone could only help the Malfoy reputation and position within the Ministry. And he seriously doubted the Boy-Who-Lived would suffer from publically defeating the Dark Lord. Again. It would solidify the view of him as some kind of evil-fighting savior of the Wizarding World. Which could go a long way towards making their plans a reality, perhaps more quickly than they'd anticipated.
Certainly having Voldemort taken care of already would be a huge help to their agenda. When they had talked about it over the summer, none of the adults had been all that sure when they could move on the offensive against the Headmaster, as they had been fairly certain that the Dark Lord should be their first priority. And having Harry defeat said Dark Lord, would help to give his name the kind of influence they could use to make their long-term plans a reality.
Those silent predictions proved correct in the days and weeks that followed. The two Slytherins were followed constantly by either silent staring or furious whispers for the rest of the school year. Even the Aurors who came to interview them just before final exams acted in awe of them. It wasn't until they insisted that they had to study that the four witches and wizards from the Ministry finally left. Though the study sessions they held at that point were peppered with the blond's frequent whinging that year-end exams should have been canceled after the show-down with Voldemort. "I bet if you had been a good little Gryffin-pawn like intended, the Headmaster would have canceled them for you," Draco was heard to say many times. As far as Harry was concerned, the end of exams could not come fast enough.
Even so, the ten days it took after exams to receive their end of year results and then board the train for Kings' Cross felt like they took a lifetime. When the time came, however, sitting in the compartment with Draco and Neville was so eerily similar to the start of term that it felt like they had all been sitting there only yesterday, pretending to meet for the first time. There would be no pretending on the second trip, since the school wasn't technically over until they left Hogsmeade and they were thus allowed to cast anti-eavesdropping charms on their compartment before the train pulled out.
If Narcissa had had her way, however, he wouldn't have been making the trip at all. When Severus had Floo'd the Malfoys to inform them of what had happened with Quirrell, Lucius had been forced to cast a restraining spell to keep her from stepping through the Floo, storming the infirmary, and taking Harry back to the Manor with her right then and there. He kind of wished she had, even if it would have caused them all manner of trouble with the custody situation.
Harry felt safer and yet more on edge than he had on his first trip on the Hogwarts Express. The charms were up, allowing them to talk freely, but the Dark Lord's final death had indeed moved up their timetable and the next stage of their plans was now officially in motion. And as much as he'd been looking forward to that, the next few weeks would reveal most of what they had tried so hard all these years to hide from the powerful elderly wizard so intent on controlling – and ruining – his life.
Cal's annoyed cry brought his attention back to the conversation occurring around him, and Harry carefully stroked the now year-old Excalibur, being careful of the bandages that were still on his hands even after nearly two weeks. The burns there had resisted all magical treatments Madame Pomfrey had used to try and heal them. The Kneazle had not gotten his attention soon enough for his friends to have missed his silence, however, and both were staring at him fixedly despite the fact that they continued to speak to each other. A brief silence fell over the compartment.
Draco didn't have to ask him where his thoughts had wandered; the blond knew exactly what had been on the mind of the Boy-Who-Lived. Without bothering to confirm it, he quietly assured the smaller wizard that everything was in place, and it would all go to plan.
Neville asked what the first step would be now that You-Know-Who was dead and they could focus on Dumbledore. Harry and Draco had discussed the plan several times with the elder Malfoys before leaving for their first year under the fool's thumb, but the Longbottoms had rarely ever been involved in such discussions. He was sure, however, that the Lord and Lady Malfoy had by now explained to the acting Lady Longbottom at least some of what they were going to do, as several steps required her support.
"My father has all the paperwork ready, and the moment Harry is safely behind the Manor wards, he will file for emergency custody of him pending an investigation into the situation. He has a friend in the Ministry that will make sure it all goes through tonight before the old man can even notice it, let alone stop it."
The brunette nodded in agreement with Draco's words before filling the third boy in on the rest of their immediate plans. "We're going to start exposing Dumbledore's crimes without actually accusing him outright. The goal is to ruin his reputation with the public and call the International Confederation of Wizards' attention to his illegal actions. Mainly the fact that he essentially kidnapped me as a baby and arbitrarily decided my placement without the legal right to do so, and then proceeded to ignore me entirely which," Harry swallowed hard before he could go on, trying to think only about the clinical wording Narcissa had used to explain it to him instead of focusing on what it was referring to.
Even so, it took another deep breath before he could finish his statement. "Which allowed me to be criminally neglected and abused by my Muggle relatives. Also, we're hoping to show all the things he's done as Headmaster that have been illegal, dangerous, and downright negligent of his duty to the school and students. But that might have to wait a bit. Lord Malfoy said we should focus on me and my personal situation first, though I can't imagine that everything with Quirrell won't get the other ball rolling as well."
"Dumbledore relies on his fame and reputation and his various positions in the ICW, the school, and the Wizengamot, to get away with whatever he wants and still come out looking like a paragon of virtue. If we can chip away at those one at a time, it will eventually allow us to remove him from his power base and limit, if not end, his political and social influence."
Neville nodded at first the brunette, and then the blond, as they took turns speaking. "Makes sense. How exactly do you plan to get started? I'm sure half the students wrote home about the gossip and everything regarding Harry Potter and the Defense Professor, but I don't imagine that will accomplish very much."
"No, he'll most likely be able to convince most people that the students were exaggerating and ignore all the parents that disagree. He's already gotten the Aurors to stay quiet about it. I'm sure he's gotten good at that type of thing over the years." The Malfoy heir agreed.
"We're going to make sure everything gets out, though. The full truth. Even about… about me and… before." Harry swallowed the lump that wanted to rise at the second reminder of the things he would have to make public in only a few hours' time. He knew it was essential to the plans, but just the thought of it made him sick to his stomach. "Lord Malfoy has arranged for a reporter to be on the platform when we arrive to ostensibly ask about the rumors that did get out. The other students' memories were copied and logged as evidence, and I can always supply mine as well. Once it's out, we're hoping to force the Wizengamot to look into that at least."
"Well," Neville swallowed audibly at the idea of talking to a reporter. He'd shed a lot of his shyness over the years of friendship with the other two boys, but it was still a daunting idea. "Do you know what you're going to say?"
Harry bit his lip, his nerves evident. No matter how many times he and the Malfoys had talked about it the year before, or how many times during the term he and Draco had discussed the idea, it was still one of his main worries. What if the reporter asked something they hadn't thought of and he didn't know what to say? He couldn't ask, or even look to, anyone else during the interview. It had to be clear that he and he alone was responsible for every word. After voicing the concern, the boys all decided to spend the rest of the ride coming up with possible questions and ways to answer them that were truthful and painted the exact picture they wanted everyone to come away with.
They were only half an hour away from the end of the trip when the subject of voting Proxies for the Potter and Peverell titles came up. The Malfoys had ensured that he had been educated quite thoroughly on the topic of the Noble Houses, the Wizengamot, and his duties as a peer. And yet he did not feel at all ready for it.
"You don't have to be ready for the title, Harry. You won't be turning twelve until the end of next month, and even when you take the title at fifteen as the last of your line, you'll still be acting under the supervision of your Proxies until you turn sixteen," Neville reminded him.
"And us too. We will both be Lords and Patriarchs of our Houses, Harry, we're having to learn this too. Just because Neville won't take his on until he's seventeen and I may not take control until father is much older, we can still help you. We've been learning this stuff since we were very young, so maybe that's why we're used to the idea, but you'll get used to it too. And you won't be alone. Not ever. So let's just focus on now. Let's get through the plans for the summer, and deal with everything else after, okay?"
Green met grey and the young hero gave a jerky nod. "Yeah. Okay. This summer. I'm not supposed to specify my Proxies, but how much should I say about it? It's sure to be a question."
The other wizards nodded in acknowledgement. "Well," ventured Neville, "the Gryffindor title won't come up at all since no one really knows and you don't want them to yet. So can you just say something like you'll be doing your best to honor your parents' wishes?"
"You're parents are most likely to have named your godparents as Proxies. That's almost always how it's done, so even if we aren't able to unseal the Will you can go by that and still be taking their advice, so to say. Trusting your title with the one they trusted to take care of you."
Harry let out a small smile. "That sounds good, I really like that wording. I'm stealing that, just so you know."
Draco laughed and soon they were all letting out a few tension-easing chuckles. The advice had merit. Even if he couldn't name the imprisoned Sirius Black a Proxy, Alice Longbottom had also been a godparent. If things had gone through the proper legal channels, he would have been given to her, and then to whomever she and Frank named in the event something happened to them. Which was obviously Augusta Longbottom, as that was where they'd wanted Neville to go.
So he could name his godbrother's grandmother if pressed, and who was to say she wouldn't advise him on the second Proxy? Come to think of it, he was pretty sure he would eventually choose her to oversee one of his titles. As to the others, who better than the people who had taken him in and raised him like one of their own? The Lord and Lady Malfoy were both titled and members of a Most Ancient and Noble House, by birth and by marriage. They fit all the requirements of a noble Proxy.
Harry nodded to himself, resolved, and just in time, as the announcement came minutes later that they were approaching King's Cross. He did his best to put on a confident smile and hide the tremor in his hands as he gently maneuvered Excalibur into his crate. His efforts were only partially successful.
The station was an exercise in endurance. He was so nervous when they arrived that it took both his friends' help to get him, his familiar, and his luggage off the train. The crowds had seemed to swallow him up when he stepped onto the platform and the loud exclamation of his name by the reporter upon spotting him had only made it worse.
Thankfully, as soon as short introductions had been exchanged – including the Longbottoms as Augusta had quickly found Neville with his friends – the reporter had happily cast the requested privacy charm around the seven of them. After all, conducting it on the crowded train platform assured that people would know about the interview, but this way they would have to actually purchase the paper in order to find out what their young hero had said.
The interview itself was a blur to him, and only the presence of his friends and their parents kept his voice mostly steady as he answered the woman's questions. The continued press of the crowd around them was unnerving, even knowing that they couldn't hear what he was saying. They could, and no doubt were, watching as closely as possible. He would have preferred going somewhere else to conduct the interview, but it had been decided that it would only aid their plans to have so many people know that Harry Potter himself had indeed spoken personally and that at no time did anyone answer for him.
When the interview was finally finished, the Malfoys loudly proclaimed that the boys would no doubt want to say good-bye to each other, then the entire group stepped off a little ways. As soon as they were somewhat out of sight, the adults subtly cast shied charms around Harry, and the feel of Lord Malfoy's warm grip on his elbow let him know that the Occlumency shields were also in place around his mind in case one of Dumbledore's little minions were to sneak into the crowd around them. If nothing else, they knew the Weasleys would be there and no one questioned that family's loyalty to the Headmaster.
Harry could only be grateful that Severus had been the staff member assigned to accompany the train and that he had been willing to disillusion himself and provide the shield around Harry during the interview. The Malfoys had not dared to do it themselves as they had been under far too much scrutiny at the time to be confident that they could do so unnoticed. The last thing they needed was additional accusations of the family controlling the Boy-Who-Lived for their own gain. They were all quite positive that Dumbledore would state that loudly enough on his own when he became aware of things.
To hopefully delay that moment as long as possible, they bid the Longbottoms farewell before Narcissa clearly stated that they should set up a time for the boys to get together during the summer before they all accompanied Harry through the barrier as if they intended to go talk to the Dursleys. Hopefully the performance would fool any of Dumbledore's cronies that were watching and preserve the impression that he was still living with his Muggle relatives. At least for one more day. Once between platforms nine and ten of King's Cross, they promptly cast subtle Notice-Me-Not charms and hurried to the unused closet Severus, Narcissa, and Harry had used to arrive back in September. Once there, each of the elder Malfoys took hold of one boy and Side-Alonged straight to the Manor.
Appearing in the private foyer, Harry was struck by the sensation that he was home. It occurred to him that he had never felt that before. He certainly wouldn't feel like this if he were to return to the wreck of a cottage in Godric's Hollow that he couldn't remember, or the nightmare that had been Number Four, Privet Drive. He'd heard a few of the older students say at the beginning of the school year that coming back to Hogwarts had felt like coming home. And since he would, technically, inherit the Hogwarts Trust when he took his titles at fifteen, that castle was the closest thing to his that he had. But it didn't feel like home and probably wouldn't even after Dumbledore was finally gone. Malfoy Manor, however, the intimidating castle-like structure he had accidently invaded at seven years old… this was home. Or as close as he'd probably ever get, considering it wasn't actually his.
Maybe, he thought as Narcissa gently herded the two boys up to their rooms to change out of the traveling robes, maybe someday he would have something that was all his. A real home that belonged to him. The thought was almost dizzying. Or perhaps that was the fact that he had been too eager to leave to eat breakfast at school and too nervous to eat lunch on the train. Either way, he had more important things to think about. Voldemort was gone and as unexpectedly wonderful as that thought was, the end of the Dark Lord was only the beginning of what they had planned.
There was still another enemy out there who was responsible for much of the hell he had gone through in his life. An enemy that, regardless of the now fulfilled prophecy, was most likely still intent on controlling his life without regard to his own wishes. Yes, Dumbledore still needed to be dealt with, and the damage he had done to the Wizarding World still needed to be repaired. But first, he needed a meal, a potion to settle his stomach, and some rest. Not in that order. Because Harry Potter may be the future Lord of three Houses, and the lauded Boy-Who-Lived, but it had been a long day. Plotting the demise of his remaining enemy could wait until tomorrow.
end volume 1